#Space Monster!Reese
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Fic (and nonfic!) Recs for Pride!
In honor of Pride, have some of my favorite F/F and F/NB reads!
Short stories (available online)
Radcliffe Hall by Miyuki Jane Pinckard - 40k word novella, with a Japanese student attending an American women's college in 1908. It's a Gothic novel with the characters encountering the supernatural, which is no less malevolent than systemic racism and homophobia.
The First Stop Is Always the Last by John Wiswell - Short and sweet time loop flirtation!
Scallop by J.L. Akagi - A woman begins growing eyes all over her body, and struggles to hide them. All the warnings for body horror, eye injury, and referenced sexual assault.
The World Ends in Salty Fingers and Sugared Lips by Jen Reese - Time loop story about the end of the world and the ways we try to deal with the crushing uncertainty of the inevitable.
Romance
One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston - Subway time travel romance! August moves to New York and meets Jane, a butch punk from the 70s who’s trapped on the subway. It’s warm and sweet and funny, with all the feels and queer found family goodness.
Fatal Fidelity by Rien Gray - Dark romance/erotic suspense featuring a bi femme fatale and a nonbinary assassin! The series begins with Love Kills Twice, in which Justine hires an assassin to get rid of her abusive husband…unaware that Campbell was also hired to kill her. Absolutely delicious.
Feminine Pursuits series by Olivia Waite - While I’m listing it as a series, each novel is entirely stand-alone! These are a set of historical F/F novels featuring women in arts and science (and beekeeping!) making their way and falling in love with one another!
Mrs. Martin’s Incomparable Adventure by Courtney Milan - Historical romance as two older women (73 and 69 years old, respectively!) plot the downfall of an absolutely Terrible Nephew who deserves everything that happens to him. An absolutely delicious comedic romp.
The Cybernetic Tea Shop by Meredith Katz - An AI repair technician and an autonomous robot who runs a small tea shop, set in a retro-futuristic America. It’s warm and gentle and yearning in very good ways.
Horror/Suspense
Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin - Gender apocalypse featuring trans women! A virus has turned anyone with over a certain level of testosterone into cannibal rape monsters, so we’re following our trans protagonists as they try to survive feral men, murderous TERFs, and a sociopathic bunker brat. This deserves a LOT of content warnings but it’s also been blurbed as a ‘bleeding love letter to trans women’ and it really is.
Blackwater Sister by Zen Cho - A Malaysian-American lesbian moves to Malaysia with her family, where she is haunted by her grandmother’s ghost. Her grandmother is out for supernatural revenge, involving our protagonist with gangsters and a terrifying goddess.
Fingersmith by Sarah Waters - Historical crime novel in which a thief poses as a lady’s maid for a con, and ends up developing feelings for the mark. Except the lady’s not as innocent as she seems, and it’s difficult to add more without spoiling the novel but it’s good!
Science fiction
A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine - Ambassador Mahit Dzmare travels to the capital of the interstellar Teixcalaanli Empire, discovers that her predecessor has died, and must find not only who murdered him, but why—while trying not to get murdered herself, and trying to maintain her small station’s independence from Teixcalaan’s ever-expanding empire. And there is a sequel but that has its own plot and requires you to read this one anyway!
Passing Strange by Ellen Klages - Set in San Francisco, built on artifice and delight as we follow a group of queer women both present and in the 1940s. Central story is a romance, two women trying to navigate both joy and the brutality of the worlds they inhabit.
This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone - An epistolary love story across time and space, in far futures and alternative pasts as two rival agents—post-singularity Red and bio-consciousness Blue—foil and thwart one another.
Fantasy
The Burning Kingdoms by Tasha Suri - Indian-inspired fantasy trilogy (third book coming in 2024!) that follows a captive princess and a maidservant with forbidden magic who navigate the the tension between their different loyalties and the politics of empire. Just! So good!
The Kingston Cycle by C.L. Polk - A fantasy trilogy (that’s actually complete!) set in a world where witches are persecuted and placed in asylums…while secretly, the witches of elite families use that power in service of the crown. The first book (Witchmark) starts with a murder mystery and a doctor with PTSD who follows that mystery to government secrets that force him to confront his estranged family. It’s also M/M, but the sequels (Stormsong and Soulstar) center around F/F and F/NB main pairings, respectively.
The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir - The first book starts with swordjock butches and lesbian necromancers in space going through (essentially) a haunted mansion together, and it just keeps going after that! It’s delightful, deranged, and full of fantastic characters I want to gnaw on!
When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain by Nghi Vo - A beautiful frame story with a very fairytale feel, where the cleric Chih is telling the story of a tiger and her lover, a female scholar, to a trio of hungry tigers who threaten to eat them if Chih tells the story incorrectly!
A Master of Djinn by P. Djeli Clark - Mystery and magic and suspense in a steampunk Cairo, set forty years after magic returned to the world! The first female agent for the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments, and Supernatural Entities is assigned to discover who murdered members of a secret cult. In addition to solving the case, she’s also assigned a rookie partner to train, and navigating the surprise return of her girlfriend, who has her own secrets! This is a really fun romp, full of joy and wonder. (And Fatma’s fabulous suits!)
Nonfiction
In the Dream House by Carmen Machado - A memoir about surviving domestic abuse, with each chapter using a different trope or genre convention to not only explore the way the relationship affected her sense of self, but also about trying (or failing) to find that representation in cultural history. It’s a rough read in places, but absolutely worth it if you’re in a space to handle that sort of content. (And in case it’s not obvious: her ex was another woman. Abuse isn’t limited by gender.)
#pride#book recs#story recs#f/f#f/nb#genre fiction#I wanted to keep this list short'n punchy but if you have questions or want to know about content warnings hmu!
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Psychomanteum / Chapter 7
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader
Chapter 7: Monster
Chapter Summary: With help from your best friend, Dieter sets a trap to confront you.
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Word Count: 7.9k+
Content / Warnings: alternating POV, talk about addiction, grief, communication problems, drag queens, confrontation, argument, nipple play, piv sex, laugh attack
Notes: Chapter title from "Monster" by Lady Gaga. I wavered between this title and two others for longer than I'd like to admit, but I think Monster is fitting of the Halloween theme. Thank you for reading! You are an angel and I appreciate you.
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The backstage dressing room at Barracuda Bar is in complete chaos.
Half a dozen drag queens are getting into costume and character, scurrying around, painting their faces, half-dressed with padding and layers of nylons and wig caps. Loud conversation and raucous laughter fills the crowded space, barely able to fit so many larger-than-life personalities. Everyone is wired with an undercurrent of excitement and nerves. Only adding to the calamity is “Monster Mash” blaring out of a Bluetooth speaker in the corner.
One of those queens is Parker, who is transforming himself into his drag persona Jackie Lantern. He’s leaning over the vanity, face hovering close to the mirror lined with pictures of Harold Perrineau as Mercutio in drag from the 1996 production of Romeo + Juliet. One eye open, the other closed, he applies white glitter to his eyelid. His mouth is gaping wide in concentration.
Trying not to disturb his zen as you approach, you gently set down the bottle of champagne you brought as a gift on the cluttered vanity, then look around the room with a wide grin, gleefully soaking up the effervescent energy that hangs in the air like a thick fog.
Parker turns towards you, eyeshadow brush in hand as he reads the word from the sign hanging around your neck, “ Sorry? ” and frowns, then meets your eyes, “I don’t get it.”
You look down at your fitted tuxedo and hold your hands out at your sides, then spin around in a circle, thinking maybe if he sees the whole thing it will click. But he just blinks. With a sigh, you explain, “I’m a formal apology.”
The gears visibly turn in his head, and then he throws his head back in laughter, “Oh my god, ok, I see you Midwest.”
You smile wide and nod at him, “I love the Mercutio costume. It’s perfect. Are you doing that song from the movie?”
“You know it,” he winks, then turns back to the mirror and starts on the other eye, “Pop that champagne, love, I’m gonna need it ASAP.”
“Should I get some cups?” you ask him while picking the bottle back up and peeling off the foil wrapper.
“Nah fuck that, we can just take pulls,” he mutters.
You shrug in response and untwist the muselet caged over the cork, “Is Reese coming to see the show?”
“Nope,” he responds with an air of annoyance, “I invited him but he never responded. Probably doing something with his wife .”
The word wife comes out with such venom, you wonder if the woman could feel a shiver run down her spine from across Manhattan.
“Mmm,” is all you respond, not wanting to comment further on the touchy subject. It’s not like you have any room to give dating advice. You tug on the cork of the champagne and it comes off with a POP! that garners a howl of celebration from a neighboring queen.
Parker sets the eyeshadow brush down on the vanity and takes the bottle from your hands, raising it to his lips. He drinks it gingerly enough not to spill champagne down the corners of his mouth, but fervently enough to make you raise your eyebrows.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so nervous for a show before,” you comment as he returns the bottle to your grasp.
He lets out a belch, then winces, “That’s so fucking warm, holy shit.”
In the spirit of commiseration, you take a few swallows of the champagne. Your eyes start watering from the carbonation and you burp, nodding in agreement, “That’s fucking gross.”
“One more,” he mumbles and grabs the bottle, taking another long pull before he returns to his makeup.
You eye him suspiciously. Something is up with him, but he obviously doesn’t want to talk to you about it right now. Normally before a show he’s filled with the same raw, confident electricity powering this room, but right now he’s a bundle of nerves.
“Did you invite your flavor of the week?” he asks, words forming around the tight O of concentration on his mouth.
“Who, Kelly?” you respond, but don’t wait for him to answer before you scoff, “No. She asked me to meet her husband. I’m not trying to get involved with their fucking marriage.”
When Parker turns from the mirror to stare at you blankly, as if to say really, bitch? You add, “No offense. Sorry.”
“The shade,” he chides playfully, then returns to the mirror and asks in a casual manner, “Have you talked to Dieter?”
The question gives you whiplash. Your head spins and heart starts pounding in your chest. That name hasn’t come up in conversation in months.
“No…? Why would I?” You push off of the vanity and cross your arms, turning your body to face Parker so you can study his face.
“Considering the luck you’ve had dating,” he shrugs, but avoids looking at you, “I thought maybe you would reconsider.”
A bewildered chuckle huffs from your chest, then you shake your head, “No fucking way. After what he did-“
“And what did he do, exactly, Lou?” Parker finally pulls away from the mirror and turns his attention to you, propping a hand up on his hip, “They both came out and said it was a one-off. Y’all weren’t even exclusive. It was a meaningless hookup. You, of all people, should know a thing or two about how those work.”
You jerk your head back in surprise, blinking at him as his gaze pierces you, then stammer, “I- I can’t date another fucking cokehead-“
“He has been on the wagon since then. People slip up sometimes. Again, something you , of all people, should know,” Parker advises defensively.
It feels like a punch in the gut.
He must recognize this, because his posture softens and he sighs, “I just… I know how much you liked him. And you keep going out with people and making all kinds of excuses for why you don’t want to see them anymore, but I think…” his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, as if he’s contemplating whether or not he really wants to tell you what he thinks. But he searches your face as he lets it rip, “I think it’s just because you still like him.”
Your mouth gapes open as his observation hits you like a freight train. You can feel tears start to burn behind your eyes, but you shove them down. His face melts into a sympathetic pout. He continues.
“I’ve known you since college, Lou. You’re my best friend in the whole world, and I’m gonna be real with you. The only other time you clicked that well with somebody was when you met Ethan.”
This dissolves the dam of resolve you had been building up to keep yourself from crying. Right there in that crowded, joyous room, dressed in a silly Halloween costume, tears start to fall.
“I know that what happened hurt, but I just think it’s something you should think about before writing him off forever,” Parker tells you softly. He places a hand on your shoulder and your face crumples.
Mortification intertwines with the betrayal of your best friend’s honesty and a deep shame starts to percolate in the cords of your neck. They vibrate and tighten your chest until you’re gasping for breath between sobs.
Why right now? Of all the times to talk to me about this, why right fucking now?? When we’re in a crowded room and he knows it’ll make me cry?
Even if he’s right.
The thought grips your stomach and makes you feel squeamish.
“Come here, baby,” he coos and envelops you in a hug, stroking your hair.
“Miss Lantern, are you making your friend cry right now?” someone nearby asks him, but you both ignore it.
“I love you and I don’t want anything to stand between you and happiness. Even if that thing is you,” he tells you.
“I know,” you respond in a shaky voice, returning his hug. The surprise tide of emotion starts to waver as you get a grip on your grief.
Parker grabs your shoulders and holds you out to inspect your face, muttering to himself, “We’re gonna have to fix this shit.”
“Is it bad?” you sniffle and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. He winces in response, so you turn and look in the mirror and groan. Your dramatic makeup is streaked down the sides of your face from your eyes to your jawline. You pout and whine, “God damnit , Parker.”
“Hold on,” he tells you, then peers around the room and scurries off to talk to someone while you take a few pulls off the champagne bottle.
When Parker returns, he has a petite blonde lady in tow, and points to you, “Can you fix it?”
Her mossy green eyes look over your face appraisingly, then she nods and tells him, “Oh absolutely,” she turns back to you and smiles, “Come with me, doll.”
The term of endearment wrenches at your heart, but you follow her out to the hall where she has you sit on a bench. She reapplies your makeup with an expert hand, humming along to the Halloween music still blaring over the speaker from inside the dressing room. The two of you make small talk. You find out her name is Angela and she’s the lighting technician for the show, but is also a part-time makeup artist. She always brings her makeup to shows in case of emergencies.
Not that you’d call your bleeding mascara an emergency or anything, but you’re grateful nonetheless.
Just as she’s showing you the finished product, which is fucking phenomenal, Jackie Lantern comes out of the dressing room.
Her big white afro wig frames her face, showcasing the white glitter cut crease eyeshadow, glossy red lips, and goatee. She turns in a circle, flaunting the rhinestoned white bra and mini skirt. A matching cape flows behind her, shimmering in the light. White garter belts extend down her legs from beneath the skirt, holding up white thigh-high tights. She’s wearing long, white, fingerless gloves that almost reach her armpits. The bright, dazzling white of her outfit contrasts her dark skin beautifully.
She is full Mercutio.
You clap and hoot, bouncing to your feet to prance over and give her a hug. She hugs back and asks, “Are you gonna be ok?”
You assure Jackie with a tight squeeze, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
She pulls back and smiles warmly at you, “I’m sorry for coming at you like that, I just wanted to talk to you about it since- ”
Her mouth snaps shut and her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. But only for a second before she picks up the fumble, “Since it’s been on my mind.”
Your eyes narrow in suspicion again. An awful feeling churns in your guts, and you ask, “Are you talking to him or something?”
“What? No,” she scoffs, then averts her gaze to Angela and tells you, “Hey I have to talk to Ang about something, babe. I’ll see you out there?”
“Jackie-” you warn, searching her face. She brushes you off and walks around you completely, then links arms with Angela and starts off down the hall.
You throw your hands out to your sides in exasperation behind them. As you make your way out of the backstage area to get a drink, you replay the conversation over and over in your head, finding a million ways to interpret the things Parker said. But no matter which way you twist it, his name, even just existing in your brain as a thought, burrows beneath your skin.
Dieter made sure to wait until just before the show started.
He approaches the crowded, red backlit bar and orders a drink for his nerves. From what Parker has told him, this could potentially end in disaster. But he has to try. You’ve blocked him from all forms of electronic communication, and, short of showing up at your apartment unannounced, where you wouldn’t let him in anyway, he doesn’t have many other options but to trap you.
Dieter reached out to Parker a week after you blocked him. Parker (rightfully) reamed into him for breaking your trust.
He confided in Parker, admitting that sex with Katie only confirmed his feelings for you. That he knows there’s something more with you. He asked what he could do to make it up to you. To get you back. Parker, a bit of a closet romantic, agreed to help Dieter on his mission. He told Dieter to stay clean and give you space. That he’d be in touch.
So Dieter did exactly that. Dieter hasn’t used coke since the day of the wrap party.
The fucking wrap party.
If ever he has been filled with disdain for the attention fame brings, it was the fucking wrap party. If ever he has wished that he could wipe his memory fucking clean, it was that goddamn party.
He had been awake for 36 hours straight when they wrapped. For 54 hours when he arrived at the party. It’s like he was outside of himself, a passenger as he watched himself walk into the black tie event wearing no shoes and dirty clothes, wielding aggression towards anyone who looked at him.
Then he saw Katie… and completely lost it.
Every ounce of hurt he felt came spewing from his mouth like acid he hoped would fucking melt her skin to the bone.
He screamed at her for seducing him, telling her that she ruined his fucking life, even though neither of those things are true. Like he has time and time before, he ruined his own fucking life. His part-time hobby of destroying anything that brings him joy.
And in true ruiner fashion, when people came to Katie’s defense, Dieter lashed out at them, hurling insults and tables and really whatever the fuck he could get his hands on. The cast and crew were all present to witness, or fall victim to, his tirade. He was escorted back to his hotel room, where he slept it off for the next few days. A pilgrimage to the land of the living dead.
Once back in LA, Mark and Darlene called a meeting, and made it clear: he’s on thin fucking ice.
It just so happens that the movie they wrapped on tells the story of a drug addict who spirals out of control. Dieter’s meltdown so perfectly paralleled the character’s that they were able to spin it as a publicity stunt. The film is somehow projected to do better because of the incident.
Dieter apologized to everyone involved. When he called Katie and told her that he was deeply sorry for the things he said to her, then admitted that he was on a two-day bender with no sleep, she responded casually that it “got her name in the headlines and press for the movie, so, whatever.”
Which, honestly, didn’t surprise him.
Considering what a fucking fool he made of himself, the sanctions on his acting career have been minimal. The same can’t be said for his mental state, though. He hated himself thoroughly after his actions replayed in his sober mind. Never thought he would be able to face any of the people who received the shrapnel of his emotional explosion.
But, miraculously, all of those people accepted his apology and moved on. Except for the person he finds himself caring about the most: you . And he hasn’t been able to do a goddamn thing about it. The degree to which he pines for your affection, for your favor, is driving him fucking mad.
He can’t figure it out. It makes absolutely no fucking sense. The more that time goes on, the truer it is. He spent a 24-hour stint as your real life lover. Just a taste of your devotion. That’s it.
But it’s like you engrained yourself into his fucking DNA in that 24 hours.
Thoughts of you haunt him every single day. Innocuous shit like his bathtub, soggy paper towels, pancakes, the scent of vanilla, reality TV, the fucking Beatles, and worst of all: literally every single baked good that crosses his path. Every time it’s like you’re whispering in his ear. Memories so vivid, if he closes his eyes and focuses, he can taste them.
From time to time, he wonders if you even think about him anymore. The dark side of him tries to convince him that you’ve moved on. But for some reason he knows, really, that isn’t true. It’s like he can feel your yearning from across the country, deep in his bones.
This knowing intuition comforted him, kept him from giving in to the hunger that threatened to swallow him whole after he quit using coke. But he was patient. When the hunger got deafening, he closed his eyes and tuned into the buzzing in his soul that told him there’s still hope . Then two weeks ago, he got a text.
> PARKER:
> I have a plan.
And it’s certainly a plan. Whether or not it’s a stupid fucking plan has yet to be determined. But Parker confirmed that you’re here in this bar.
“Bugs Bunny?” a stocky Tina Turner asks him, then sips their drink through a straw as their eyes scan his baggy, gray rabbit costume.
He tips his glass to the stranger and corrects them, “Easter bunny.”
“Adorable,” they reach up and tug at one of the floppy ears attached to the upright hood of the onesie.
Dieter smiles and nods at the compliment, “Yours is great too. Tina is-“
The sound system starts to boom, then lights flood the stage, and they both lose interest in the, frankly, dull conversation, turning instead to the start of the show. Dieter drains the remainder of his drink down his throat and sets the glass down on the bar. He sets off towards the side of the stage, angling himself to face the crowd.
A drag queen named Boo Who is up first. Boo Who is wearing a rooty highlighter yellow wig with a side part, an angular mirrored mini dress, and mirrored high heels, a la Lady Gaga at the Monster Ball. Appropriately, she lip-syncs “Monster” by Lady Gaga.
As Dieter scans the crowd, he notices it consists of two types of people: either singing and dancing along, or completely entranced by the performance. Everyone is in costume, which doesn’t really help with the whole “trying to ID you” thing. He checks his phone and sees an unread message from Parker.
> PARKER:
> She's a formal apology
Dieter frowns at the screen and squints back up to the faces in the crowd, wondering what the fuck that means. But then something near the front of the stage catches his eye: a white neck placard that reads SORRY in big, bold letters. The person wearing it is wearing a tuxedo, complete with a black bow tie and white gloves. Their hair is slicked back and shiny with gel. Of course, he recognizes you, even beneath the black pencil mustache painted above your red lips. You’re singing and dancing, your smile wide and taking up your whole face.
The air is sucked from his lungs. Even from here, he can feel your light warming his soul. He can’t help but start grinning at the spectacle.
When the song changes, you turn around and start towards the bar. His heart starts to thud heavy in his chest, feet propelling him after you before he can think twice.
You’re on your tip-toes, stretching across the counter, yelling your order over the music to the bartender when he sits down next to you.
“Vod-ka cran-ber-ry?” you holler, enunciating each syllable as much as you can. The bartender nods in acknowledgement, then his eyes land on the person next to you.
“Whiskey, neat,” the man requests. The timbre of his voice resonates down your spine and into your limbs.
Your head snaps towards it.
The man next to you has the hood of his bunny onesie in the upright position, hiding most of his face. But you can see a shock of messy, dark curls. He’s wringing his hands together, and you can see that on one are two thick-banded rings. And his aquiline nose is poking out from behind the shadow. Soft, musky notes of violet and patchouli.
“I’ll pay for hers, too,” he tells the bartender when he returns, setting a drink down in front of each of you. The man slides a $100 bill across the bar, “Keep the change.”
Blood rushes to your head in a flare of rage when it all falls together.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you bark. He blinks back when he finally turns to meet your eyes. The eye contact feels like he’s reaching through your ribcage and squeezing your heart. Your knees feel wobbly and your stomach drops, but you hold your steel gaze steady.
“I thought this would be better than showing up at your apartment unannounced,” he reasons, pressing his eyebrows together as he searches your face. His eyes flick down to the sign around your neck and the corners of his mouth upturn, “I like your costume. Very handsome.”
Words fail you. All you can do is scoff and turn back towards the stage and walk away from him. But he catches your arm and says, “Please, Lua.”
You spin around and square your shoulders as you spit, “What?!”
Your ferocity doesn’t scare him away. In fact, he comes closer, crowding you until all you can smell is his cologne and you can feel the heat radiating off of his body as he leans in and tells you, “It was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”
He meets your gaze again after he says this. His eyes are soft and sincere and warm and you want to curl up inside them. Then you remember he made a fucking fool of you. He coaxed you out of your emotional hiding spot, then gutted you.
You tried to shove those feelings back in and stitch yourself up months ago. Denied your wound’s existence, even to yourself. Ignored the rotting flesh you couldn’t bear to deal with. Now proof is humming loud in your body. The seams are pulling tight against your swollen belly. You’re so fucking close to splitting open, to spilling your guts, so he can see what he fucking did to you.
“And what did he do, exactly, Lou?”
Parker’s words from earlier nibble away at your brain. And, logically, you understand all of the points he made. You can acknowledge their legitimacy and see the apologetic look on Dieter’s face and know that he’s being honest.
But all the hurt you buried for months has been resurrected. You’re right back where you started: jilted.
“Ok,” is all you respond before shaking his arm off and turning around. In that second between the word leaving your mouth and spinning away, you see his shoulders slump and sadness etch across his face.
You zig zag through the crowd until you’re close to the stage, then don’t look back. But you can feel his gaze glued to you. Like when the mirrors in Ethan’s room come into view, a shiver runs the length of your spine and lingers.
It tingles at the back of your neck until about half way through Jackie Lantern’s set. That’s when Dieter appears in your periphery, just a few feet away. You keep your eyes forward on the stage as you cheer and dance in support. When her last song, “Young Hearts Run Free” by Candi Staton, starts playing, everyone fucking loses it. Dieter extends a few bills up to Jackie, who takes them and stuffs them into her white, rhinestone bra. Her eyes flick from him to you and you resist the urge to flip her off before she gets back into the zone.
She fucking kills it, as always. The crowd loves her, and they continue to cheer after she walks off stage and the intermission music starts. Your eyes dart to where Dieter was standing and find he’s no longer there. Which is your cue to get the fuck out of here.
With your head down, you push your way through the crowd, stopping at the coat check to get your jacket before you hurry out the exit.
Brisk autumn air licks your skin as you step out the door into the night. A thick layer of clouds lay low to the ground, reflecting the artificial golden light from street lamps, making the sky glow. Frost speckles the concrete sidewalk and sparkles as you walk.
You’re plugging your headphones into your phone when you hear Dieter coming up behind you, commanding your attention when he barks your name, “Lou ella! ”
You jump and turn around in surprise.
“Are you fucking serious?” he scoffs, throwing his hands out to his sides as his face twists up with outrage.
The fire in his question ignites your anger. It flashes bright and hot beneath your skin and you respond with vitriol, stepping towards him, but allowing for about two feet of distance, “ What? What, Dieter , what the fuck do you want?”
“I want you to stop fucking running from me,” he answers through gritted teeth. His face is shadowed beneath the hood of his fucking bunny costume, but you can see the cords of his neck standing out and know that he is furious . He continues, taking a step towards you, “Stop fucking holding back. I know you are-“
“You don’t know jackshit about what I’m fucking doing,” you meet his glowering eyes in a challenge.
“No?” he raises his eyebrows and blinks. Looks up at the glowing golden sky and shakes his head. Takes a deep breath. His gaze falls on you again, “So you’re not trying to avoid talking to me?”
“No,” you lie. Neither of you move. The word hangs in the air. It settles like shards of glass in your stomach.
His tongue darts out and licks his bottom lip, then he scoffs, “Fucking coward .”
It comes out of his mouth in a white hot puff when it meets the cool air.
“ Fuck you,” you growl in return.
The corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk and he steps closer. You swallow hard at the dwindling distance between your body and his. That constant, humming electricity that ripples between you is so thick your skin is buzzing.
“That’s it, doll, let me have it,” he purrs, “I wanna hear it. Come on.”
Your nostrils flare and your heart starts pounding, rage bubbling in your chest, “You- You come here to my best friend’s show,” you step closer and jab your finger against his chest, “and you fucking ruin my night-“
“It’s more than that, Lua, come on, you know it is,” he coaxes, “Give it to me.”
“You- you- you- ”
“And what did he do, exactly, Lou?”
“You-” your voice cracks, but you push the words out, “ Hurt me.”
He nods and searches your flushed face. Like this is what he was looking for. You continue.
“You fucked this- this fucking gorgeous woman. You were probably just fucking me on the side while you actually fucking date her. Because she’s not fucking broken like I am-“ a sob catches your throat, “She’s- she’s-“
“She’s not you , Lua. She doesn’t fucking matter to me. She is not the person that’s stuck in my fucking head. She’s not what I think about every goddamn day. That’s you ,” he holds your gaze steady as he tells you this. You start to shake your head and open your mouth, like you could convince him that he’s wrong to think that, but he starts again, “And what about you and your no-fucking-strings-attached? How’s that going for you now?”
You flinch at the mention of your promiscuity. He cups the sides of your face, and studies you carefully as he asks, “It’s not the fucking same, is it?”
Your throat tightens. All you can think of are his hands warming your cheeks. His intense gaze. The huffs of his interrogation against your skin.
“Is it, Lua?” he repeats, softer now, almost a mumble. His eyes are scanning your face, landing on your lips.
You swallow hard and shake your head.
“Why is that?”
Your mouth falls open to answer, but he pulls your lips to his before you can utter the truth that he already knows.
Because it’s not him.
You meet him with a ravenous energy, That spark, that fucking magic, it’s there . It’s in his touch that drops to your waist and pulls you in close. It’s flipping your stomach upside down and rattling those stagnant butterflies loose.
His tongue slides against yours, breaching your mouth, hungry and searching. Your hands rest against his chest for a moment, soaking in the heat of him through your palms. They slide up the surprisingly soft fabric of his costume to the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull his body to yours, and a rumble sounds from the back of his throat.
He pulls back only enough to plead, “Stay with me tonight,” before his lips are back on yours again. Like he needs them to breathe. Like he couldn’t bear to break the contact just to ask this of you. You nod in response, refusing to pause your onslaught of messy kisses.
“Come on,” he mumbles against your mouth, guiding you towards the busy street. You take his hand and follow him a whole three steps to a black town car that’s parked and running. He opens the door to the warm backseat and gestures for you to get in.
This is when you notice two things:
Your red lipstick and painted-on mustache has transferred to his face and he looks fucking ridiculous.
He had a goddamn car waiting here the whole time.
A jolt of obstinacy makes you scoff, “Really?”
He grins sheepishly, but doesn’t respond. As you slide into the leather backseat, you decide not to tell him about the black smudges all over his face. He gets in after you and tells the driver to go to the hotel, then turns to you, “I know you better than you think I do.”
“Is that right?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
He slides closer, leaning in so his breath is hot against your ear, “You think I don’t know you need a little stretching before you open up?”
Heat rises to your face and pools in your belly. Your eyelids flutter as you glance up to meet his eyes. The look in his eyes is full of mischief and lust, but there’s something else there that’s softer, which keeps your gaze locked in place as its meaning steeps in your soul.
“I missed you,” you admit, naming the significance.
He presses his lips to yours and the kiss lingers for a tender moment before he renews it with more urgency. A tingle of want rolls across your body.
You rake your fingers through his hair, pulling his hood down. He pulls back from the kiss and brushes his thumb against your cheek, meeting your eyes again, “I missed you, too.”
“Yeah?” you smile, eyes flicking to his lips.
He shrugs and gives you a boyish grin, “Maybe. I guess. A little bit.”
You shake your head and roll your eyes, smile not fading, “I like your bunny suit, by the way.”
“Thanks,” he looks down at it, then points to you, “I like yours, too. The tuxedo is um,” he licks his lips like he’s searching for the right words, “Really doing it for me. It looks so fucking hot on you,” his eyebrow quirks as his gaze trails down your coat, and he leans in until his nose is nuzzling against your cheek, “I can’t wait to strip it off of you piece by piece.”
Just as your lips part with a gasp, the driver pulls up to the entrance of a hotel and puts the car in park, then calls back “Here, sir.”
The two of you scramble out of the backseat. He grabs your hand and leads you into the hotel. Judgmental looks from the fine patrons of Whatever Fucking Five Star Hotel This Is whiz by as you trail behind him. When you reach the elevator, he punches the UP button impatiently.
The desire that hung thick in the air on the car ride begins to dissipate in the hotel lobby. You catch a glimpse of yourself and Dieter in a mirror. Your lust-fogged mind starts to clear and a strange sense of self-awareness dawns on you. Dieter has his bunny hood upright. Your hair is shiny and hard with hair gel. Smears of red lipstick and black paint coat both your mouths. Damning evidence that you were just making out.
The two of you are incredibly out-of-context in this ritzy place. Plucked off the floor of the Barracuda Bar and dropped in this lobby that seems to be all gleaming white marble and chandeliers.
In the elevator door’s dull reflection, you can see a few people gather behind you. Everyone is silent, all concentrating on the elevator floor countdown.
Dieter raises your clasped hand to his lips and kisses the back of it.
The gesture is so simple, yet so sweet it makes you feel giddy. You look up at him and find he already has eyes on you. He’s studying you with a warm kind of amusement. It brings a wide smile to your face, which spreads to him.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A few people come out before he pulls you inside, pressing the 20 button, and you both nestle into the back corner of the elevator as the remaining guests file in.
“You, um…” your eyes flick to him and you barely stifle a laugh, “You’ve got a little something on your face.”
Completely stone-faced, he glances down at you, then gestures to the general area of his face, “Here?”
You nod and clamp your lips closed. The crowded elevator is hushed except for the whiz of the pulley system and the muted beeps indicating ascent. He hums and frowns, pulling the phone out of his bunny suit pocket and opening the front-facing camera. The display reveals both of your faces as a mess of black and red smears. Your black eye makeup has bled down onto your cheeks, giving you raccoon eyes.
“I think we look fine, don’t you?” he deadpans.
Laughter bubbles up from your belly, bursting through your nose as a snort. The noise ricochets off the walls and earns a few dirty looks. Dieter breaks, his low-pitched laughter rumbling in his throat and shaking his shoulders.
“You’re right,” you squeak, voice cracking into another wave of laughter that you can’t stop when you look back at his phone, “We look really fucking cute.”
The doors slide open at floor 5 and release a couple that looks annoyed by the outburst.
“Wait wait, serious face, I’m gonna take a picture,” he instructs, and you are both able to mold your faces into solemnity for one whole second before the laughter erupts from your throats again. You bury your face against his shoulder and give into the giggles, despite the impatient sighs of your fellow elevator passengers.
The doors slide closed and the ascent begins again.
“Lua, wait, is it,” he nudges you for your attention. You lean back and watch him lick his thumb, then rub the very corner of his mouth, “Right here? Did I get it?”
An involuntary snorting noise sounds from your sinuses, then you squeak, “That- that's it, babe, that’s perfect.”
“Oh thank god,” he sighs with exaggeration, then another stifled laugh rips through his words, “I’d- I’d hate to look like a mess- in- public- ”
The last 3 words come out in breathless wheezes. This has you both doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down your cheeks, unable to breathe, for so long you don’t even notice the other people get out on their floors.
On floor 20, the doors slide open and he pulls you down the hall to his room, the two of you still shaking with giggles. As the door clicks closed, you’re unzipping your coat.
Dieter turns to you with a smoldering smirk. You shrug the jacket off your shoulders and fold it over your forearm. Before you can find a proper resting place for it, he tosses it on the floor and interlaces his fingers with yours.
You let him reel you in and wrap his arms around your shoulders. Your body responds, relaxing against him as you return the embrace. The placard around your neck struggles to conform into this new shape, crinkling in protest.
He nuzzles into your hair and releases a deep sigh, “This fucking sign, Lua, it’s gotta go.”
You snort in response, but don’t go to take it off, or move, or anything. Your joints and ligaments decay into gelatin. His lips press against your forehead and he mumbles, “Do you wanna take a shower?”
Leaning against him like this, you can feel his cock twitch at the thought.
“Lead the way, bunny foo-foo,” you tease, then straighten your spine and return your weight to your feet.
“Easter Bunny,” Dieter corrects you as he pushes off the wall and starts towards the bathroom.
“Whatever you say, Peter Cottontail,” you snicker. From behind, you watch him chuckle and shake his head, so you sing, “Hoppin’ down the bunny trail. Hippity hoppity, Easter’s on its waaaay.”
Dieter shoots you an amused smile over his shoulder as he turns into the bathroom, flipping on the light.
This bathroom, like the one at The Plaza, is as big as your bedroom back home. A large, rectangular, backlit mirror hangs above the white marble double vanity. The floors and walls are also outfitted in white marble. There’s a deep rectangular bathtub on a platform, separate from the shower. The shower itself takes up a third of the room, sectioned off with a frosted glass divider.
Dieter walks over to the shower and cranks the knob to hot, then spins around and stares at you. You pull the SORRY placard off over your head and set it down on the counter, grinning, “What?”
He shakes his head and approaches you, crowding you against the vanity’s countertop. His hands settle at your waist and he meets your eyes as he mutters, “I’m glad you’re here.”
You tuck your hair behind your ear and bat your eyelashes up at him, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
“I am sorry,” he reasserts. You link your hands behind his neck and watch him as he glances up into the mirror, then back to you, “For… everything.”
For a moment, the only noise comes from the shower head spraying water onto the tile floor. It looks like he’s deep in thought. You study his face as he presses his forehead to yours and becomes out of focus.
“I don’t even know how to explain myself,” he admits, “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have-“
“Hey,” you interrupt his spiraling, pulling back to meet his eyes, “I forgive you.”
His shoulders sag and his features relax. You bring a hand to his cheek and brush your thumb against the stubble there. He flutters his eyes closed and leans into the touch.
The tenderness that you both seem to hold hostage within yourselves so well comes into the light and lets itself be seen. Connection swells and throbs within your chest. When you close your eyes and zero in on the sensation, you swear you can feel it radiating between your souls.
An open door. An invitation.
Your lips meet his, soft but urgent. His fingers find the buttons of your tuxedo jacket and undo them, then the buttons of your dress shirt. You untie the black bow. It drops to the floor, followed by your jacket. His lips depart yours and press wet against your neck, then follow the unfastening of your shirt down your torso.
You’re livewired and wanting, letting your eyelids close and your head fall back heavy. Your palms press against the countertop as you arch into the tantalizing sensation. Hushed whimpers escape your throat when he rolls his tongue against the delicate skin of your belly.
Like he’s kissing away the hurt he caused. Licking your wounds.
Dieter unfastens the last button and spreads open the starched white dress shirt. He grips your hips, splaying his fingers around to your back, up to the hooks of your bra. His mouth follows the firm pressure of his hands, leveraging your abdomen against his mouth as he continues to lick and kiss and suck his way up your body.
Pleasure bubbles hot at your center, sending your pulse racing. Each flick of his tongue drips thick down your spine.
A click sounds from your bra being unhooked and brings your attention back to Dieter. You drop your heavy-lidded gaze onto him, meeting his molten dark eyes. The elastic band of your bra slackens as he tugs at the front. You shrug off the shirt, then the bra.
“Fuck, Lua,” Dieter hums, palming each breast, pressing a kiss into your sternum. You bring your fingertips to his hairline and comb your nails through the wild, loose curls. He looks up at you, desire etched into his features, just as obvious as your smeared makeup settling into his skin.
You bite your lip and pull his face against your chest, smothering him between your tits. He groans and digs his fingers into the soft flesh, pressing them hard against each cheek. His thumbs find your nipples and strum them in tandem. The sensation sends waves of ecstasy down to your cunt and makes you moan. Ferocious in his movements, he comes up for air and drags his tongue up the crease of your cleavage. It slides up the slope of your breast and rolls back and forth over your nipple.
The fluid movement makes you gasp and nod. His eyes flick to yours as his teeth catch the sensitive bud. When your jaw falls open and you release a throaty moan, the vocal manifestation of the flames of desire licking your insides, he rumbles, “Fuck, I missed that sound.”
Your pelvis is thrusting forward with a mind of its own, desperately seeking friction. But he doesn’t give it to you. Instead, he pinches and tugs on your nipples, playing with different levels of pressure until he finds one that has you melting like putty in his hands, all the while mumbling, “I think about you all the time, Lua, you know that? You know that not one fucking day goes by where I don’t think about you?”
Too turned on to continue with this torture, you grab handfuls of his bunny suit and pull him to his feet. You kiss him in frenzied bursts, unzipping his costume as he unbuckles your pants and they drop to your ankles.
You slide your hands down his chest, down to the elastic of his boxers, “Dee,” you whine against his mouth, “Please.”
“Tell me what you want, love,” he purrs, plush lips catching yours. His hands slide down your sides and a finger hooks on the black lace of your underwear. An ache of anticipation throbs at your core, body screaming for him to touch you.
“I want you to to bend me over this sink and fuck me,” you breathe, looking up through your lashes to meet his lust-blackened eyes.
Without further question, he turns you around and pulls both your underwear and his to the ground. You meet his eyes in the mirror as his chest presses against your back. His body heat on your skin salves your chapped soul. The way his eyelids flutter tell you the feeling is mutual.
One of his hands settles your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, while the other guides his member to smack lightly against your ass cheeks.
You grin at each other through the mirror, and he hums against your ear, “Is this what you need, baby? Need my fat cock to stretch that sweet little pussy?”
The filthy words slide into your ear canal, down your spine, leaving a trail of charred remains as it fills you with fire. You swallow hard and nod. His cock nudges against your entrance.
“Say it.”
The demand itself makes you whimper. Your lips form a pout and you try to drive yourself back, hoping to spur him into action. But his hand on your hip doesn’t allow for movement. He doesn’t flinch, just keeps his eyes steady on yours and waits.
“I- I need your fat cock to stretch out my sweet little pussy.”
“Good girl,” he coos, then presses a kiss against your pulse. His hips thrust forward, and his cock sinks into you at an excruciatingly slow pace, “Holy fuck-”
You sputter and watch his hot gaze on your contorting face. Both of his hands grip your waist now as he finds a rhythm that makes you writhe and gasp from pleasure. Each thrust sends shockwaves across your body, from the walls of your pussy through the tips of your toes.
“Is that what you need, sweetheart?” he rumbles against your ear.
“Faster,” you plead, pushing back against him at a quicker pace, following the urge tingling at your center. His tempo conforms to yours and you gasp, “Yes, yes, just like that, Dee-“
He groans and his fingertips dig into your skin, “Love it when you say my name, Lua,” his voice trembles with each sharp thrust that melts you from the inside out, “Does it feel good on your lips? Does it feel right? Do you feel that?”
His questions flip your stomach upside down. Because, yes, his name is like powdered sugar on your lips. Because, yes, being with him is like hearing your favorite song. Like warming your chilled hands on a fire. Like climbing into bed at the end of an exhausting day.
“Oh my god, Dee,” you pant, nodding in agreement, “Yes- yes, I feel it.”
The mirror is starting to fog from the shower’s steam. You can barely see the reflection of yourselves anymore. Just blurs of skin moving in time. But your nerve endings are on fire, every square inch of your body doused in ecstasy as he fills you again and again. His lips hum against the crook of your neck, groaning curses with increasing frequency.
Pleasure builds and builds at your center. You chase the sensation, meeting his thrusts in a frenzy, pushing hard against him as you moan, “Fuck, fuck, fuck- Dee, don’t stop, baby.”
“That’s it, Lua, tell me what you need. Such a good girl, Lua. So fucking good,” he purrs into your ear.
A twisting, dizzying static swells inside you, pulling sharp gasps of air in through your mouth. You let out a choked sob as your body fills to the brim with ecstasy, then releases it all at once. Your joints dissolve, arms and legs start to tremble, and your pussy seizes around him.
His hips stutter, whole body going rigid for a moment before he moans and shudders, spilling inside you. He loosens his grip on your waist and wraps his arms around your belly, nuzzling into your neck. You can feel him smiling against you.
Your chests heave in unison, relaxing more with each slowing breath. The two of you soak up all those beautiful post-orgasm happy chemicals, melting against each other more and more with each passing second. Eventually, he mumbles, “Shower?”
[ Next Chapter ]
#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x female reader#dieter bravo x fem!reader#dieter bravo x f!reader#dieter bravo fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fic#psychomanteum
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Take me back to Eden
A Songfic inspired by the song "Take me back to Eden" by Sleep Token.
A/N: I wrote it from the viewpoint of Reese during his quest to fulfill his vengence in "The Devils Share"
@untilthe12ofnever @nuggsmum @plinkitee @sunrise68 @savhcaro @imo126 @imelopsittacus @bonnie131313 @scnewztown @bliphany @caviezeldaily @aragarna @eyesofwitt @follow-voice @heike-251 @detective-fiasco @hellostickerdoodle
Please tag on. I have forgotten a few POI blogs so my apologise
An anchor was what she was to him. She showed him mercy at his lowest point, compassion when he was shot, strength when their foes were hunting them down. She had managed to keep this lone wolf under control, made him feel like he was part of a pack, made him feel loved.
Reese had plenty of chances to drop his guard, let her in and bury the monster he used to be, he could have had something, he could have had everything he desired but he left it too long and now it was too late.
I dream in phosphorescence
Bleed through spaces
See you drifting past the fog
But no one told you where to go
We dive through crystal waters, perfect oceans
But no one told me not to breathe
And now the weightlessness recedes
Returning back to the darkness felt natural. The pain from bleeding wounds were numbed, grief now turned into a burning fire of vengeance and the monster had retaken its seat at the top of the table, its hunger would only be quashed when those involved were slain by his blood soaked hands
He should have allowed Harold to get him treated by one of his contacts but there was no time for back end hospital treatments or for wounds to heal. Those would need patching up on the fly, hatchet job stitches and bandages made from rags. It wasn’t pretty but it would hold for the time being while he walked, once again, down the path of the cold blooded killer. Hoping this time it would be a one way trip, hoping once his bloodlust was quenched, he could finally join her.
My, my, those eyes like fire
I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
Come now, bite through these wires
I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher
Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire
I will travel far beyond the path of reason
Take me back to Eden, take me back to Eden
Take me back to Eden
Simmons was the man to pull the trigger on them but Reese knew he was just the mouthpiece, he knew that order came from above, the man who Carter was putting away. Quinn and he knew where Simmons was going to run to.
Two birds one stone.
For all Reese cared, the wolves that lay in wait could have Simmons but Quinn, Quinn was in his crosshairs and he was determined to remove him permanently. Yet time wasn’t on his side. His wounds were not healing, every day he was popping sutures and patching himself up again, everyday the rags were drenched in blood, blood that his body was struggling to replace.
Porcelain bathroom sinks were tainted with his crimson nectar, a sight he was oh too familiar with but the fire raged within him, there was no time to process the toil he was dragging his body through, his soul growing colder. Carter wanted to take Quinn down the right way, Reese just wanted to take him out, one way or another. Nobody was going to change his mind. Calls were missed and messages ignored.
His mind was set. The cold blooded killer returned.
Well yeah, I spit blood when I wake up
Sink porcelain stained, choking up brain matter and makeup
Just two days since the mainframe went down and I'm still messed up
Room feels like a meat freezer, I dangle in it like cold cuts
Missed calls, answered phones from people I just don't trust
Mirror talk, fake love
But I'll take a pound of your flesh
Before you take a piece of my paystub
White roses, black doves, Godmother, rise up
I need you to see me for what I have become
He knew the US marshals would be protecting him, he knew where they would be holed up and the best ways to remove them from his mission. Plunge them into darkness, blind them and make sure none of them would get up to disrupt his plans. As simple as it was to perform, even that gave Reese a great deal of pain.
He needed a moment to catch his breath, to mask the pain of his wounds and that of his broken heart. Oh how he blamed himself for not being more open towards her, how he left it till that fateful night to drop his guard. He took her being there, ready to put her neck on the line, for granted and now she was gone and that hurt more than the inflamed bullet holes that oozed blood profusely.
My, my, those eyes like fire
I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
Come now, bite through these wires
I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher
Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire
I guess it goes to show, does it not?
That we've no idea what we've got until we lose it
And no amount of love will keep it around
If we don't choose it
As he marched down the corridor, he could feel the flames of fury take hold, the burning rage filling his eyes. He knew Quinn was in the room, he knew that whoever was with him didn’t stand a chance and he knew deep down that this wouldn’t bring her back.
If this was to be his last stand at least it would put him at peace, knowing he took the life of the man who coldly ordered her death.
And I don't know what's got its teeth in me
But I'm about to bite back in anger
No amount of self-sought fury
Will bring back the glory of innocence
He watched as the last remaining guard crept out the room, he moved so that he was hidden and then struck, marching the guard back into the room at gunpoint before knocking them out and turning the gun on Quinn, fighting against himself to not end the man's life instantly, to prolong it, make the man give up information that he needed to relay over. Yet Quinn gave a speech about loyalty, droning on about not wanting to break the loyalty he had with Simmons, even if Reese threatened to kill him.
Magic words.
There was no threat, he was going to kill him even if he got what he wanted and he wouldn’t make it painless, he wouldn’t make it quick, he was going to drag it out and he made certain to tell him that, even if his breathing was becoming more labored and the pain more intense. It worked. He got what he needed from him and Reese was going to deliver on his promise, the gun trained on the man’s head, mere seconds from pulling the trigger before he was stopped, stopped by Harold's gentle voice, reminding him what she had sacrificed to bring down Quinn on her terms.
He didn’t want to undo all that but the urge, the urge was strong. He wouldn’t do it in her name, he would do it to soothe his own soul, to correct his own mistake. He saw the fear flash across Quinn’s eyes as he made one last ditch attempt to put a bullet in his skull, annoyed that he was spared by the gun failing. He looked to Harold for Mercy, an end to the pain he had endured. What he got in return was Shaw hauling him back to the car, getting him into the back before he passed out from blood loss.
That was the moment he was at peace, calm and pain free. His mind put him in a garden, basking in the sun while listening to the birds around him chirping and cheeping. Flowers were bright, colourful and smelling sweet and somewhere in the distance he could hear a stream. He took a deep breath, a smile on his lips as he closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again, seeing a shadow cascade over him and a familiar face peering down at him.
My, my, those eyes like fire
I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
Come now, bite through these wires
I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher
Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire
I have traveled far beyond the path of reason
Take me back to Eden
Take me back to Eden
#the man in the suit#poi#mr reese#John Reese#Jim Caviezel#Joss Carter#Quinn#Harold#Person of Interest#Sleep Token#Take me back to eden#The Devils share
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CHARACTER INFO: POWERS
Characters in purple belong to @jiphenn!
FELIX
Portals
Can create portals varying in size and teleport to pretty much anywhere in the world. He can also mutilate/contort things with these portals.
WINOLA
Geokinesis
Can shape/manipulate earthen materials.
JANUARY
Weight
Changes the gravity around an object, thus making it weigh more. This can be activated by making contact with the object. The timing of the gravity shift can also be delayed.
MADDOX
Aura
Can sense people’s aura. This lets him know their mood, staple personality traits, their powers, as well as sometimes anticipate their next moves. His pupils change shape/glow blue while this is activated.
AKALI
Shadow Creatures
Can create 10-20 shadow creatures out of the cracks of his palms and his jaw. He can also teleport/switch places with these creatures.
AVIL
Water
Can control water from a source. Her water also has healing properties on small-medium injuries an hour after they occur.
ALZENA
Toxic
Can inject/shoot out venom/poison through her canines or nails. When this poison is expelled she can control it as well.
NYSSA
Powerup
The more she repeats an action, the more effective if becomes.
ASTLEY
Limitless
Normal human limitations don’t apply to him, making him immortal.
RORY
Mind Control
Can gain control of a person through eye contact, touch, and simple speech.
KUALI’I
Taskbar
Can do literally anything as long as he completes 3 tasks. These tasks range in difficulty based on the goal he wants to achieve.
WILDER
Fire
Can create and control fire.
GUNTHER
Morph
Can morph his different body parts into different animals/creatures. Can also morph into a giant 50-foot monster.
ENSIO
Shadow Room
Can make shadow animals that invite people into his shadow realm. The shadow realm can hold up to 10 people and can split into individual rooms.
ILONA
Brightness
She can create boxes where she can manipulate the lighting (make it brighter or duller) she can also lock these boxes onto a target/object.
DELLA
Monster
Whenever her skin gets cut/scraped, a big shadow creature emerges to take out any threats
VINCENT
Time
Can rewind and fast forward the state of living and non-living objects.
HAVEN
Paradise
Has a mind space that they can bend and shape to their will. People can travel in and out with authority.
PAISLEY
Shapeshifting
Can shapeshift into animals and any person as long as she knows what the person/animal looks like. She can also change things like her hair colour or some of her physical features without completely replicating another animal/person. Their eyes always stay the same colour.
MANON
Mind Tricks
Can manipulate dreams as well as create hallucinations.
REESE
Healing
Uses energy to speed up healing processes and sooth wounds. This in-turn drains their own energy.
EINAR
Speed Manipulation
Can manipulate the speed at which things move around him. He is unaffected by these changes.
HARU
Cancellation
Can take away people’s powers as long as they’re in his radius. When his power is active his strength is enhanced and he becomes more agitated/violent.
SHEHANI
Blood Control
Can control blood both in and out of the body.
ATIAH
Strings
Can manipulate any string-like material.
BORISLAVA
Telepathy+Telekinesis
Can hear people’s thoughts as well as control inanimate objects.
UNA
Clones
Can clone himself.
HIRAYA
Aim
Can perfectly hit any target she aims for. Her eyes glow purple when her powers are activated.
VENUS
Fox
Has the characteristics and traits of a red fox. (Enhanced strength, speed, hearing, reflexes, sharp claws+canines, tail, ears, etc.)
TINDRA
Feathers
She can control feathers, both from her own body (she has wings) as well as feathers from other birds.
#dioles tag#oc masterlist#my ocs#ocs#writeblr#superhero#writers of tumblr#oc fic#original character#original story#original writing#my writing#writerscommunity#oc writing
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Hi !
Soo, this question is something related to the next arc of the series, ... espasaly whit how interesting it seems to be.
From the moment that this Armageddon games started, we saw something about a horrific looking space shark, that seems to be pretty much ending the turtles world. Later ( in Venus Alliance issue ) we come to know that monster as Armaggon, which, as far as I knew , he was a a lesser known enemy of the turtles , compared to their other enemies at least ,that had the most memorable adaptation in the 2012 show, being a space shark bounty hunter whit armor that made him look like a metal shark that was swiming through the galaxies.
The question is...how did you come up whit the idea to go from that .. to something that reminds me of Galactus from the Marvel universe . Was something to do whit the name by eny chance? Cuz, it dose sound very dangerous and iven world ending if that is the case.
I am just fascinated by how a character like Armaggon ending up becoming such a unstoppable, destructive force of nature , that makes iven Rat King ( along whit the rest of his family ) and his Games looks like children playing .
I would also like to mention how excited I am to see this part of the story developed further , espasaly whit Doni on the case, from the looks of things! If he can't come up whit some solution for this topic, then , I think no one can. Lol.
I've never seen the 2012 Armaggon episodes but I always liked the original Archie version in the Future Shark issues. I'd actually been trying to get Armaggon into the series for a while, the character was originally going to show up in the 113-117 arc as a sort of Terminator-like character who travels from the future to kill Hob in order to prevent a disaster that Hob causes down the line (with Future Lita taking the Kyle Reese role). All that stuff was eventually scrapped for various reasons but I kept Armaggon on deck for a later story.
Two of my favorite things are sharks and time travel so Armaggon, a time-traveling shark, is like catnip to me, haha. When I was looking to figure out a new Armaggon story I was trying to come up with ways to keep him from being just another regular mutant character, and through various sketches I did I decided he should be more like a scary unknowable entity, and being a shark maybe he should EAT spacetime itself like the Langoliers or something. That seemed fun to me, an antagonist that seemingly can't be communicated with or reasoned with, something we hadn't really seen yet in IDW TMNT.
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presuming you also would want oc/canon ask questions.... hows about 5 and 9 for oc/canon ship of ur choice
Sure! Thank you Deaf Prophet! I've updated the ask game (see here), so the questions you want answers to are are now 6. and 10. The OC/Canon pairing I will be answering for is "Emily" (not her real name) and Wayne from Scarlet Hollow.
Why would extremely online fans call them problematic?
Of the two, Wayne is the more problematic character by a country mile. He's an intelligent zombie -- which means this ship is necrophilia -- and a stalker -- which means this ship is romanticizing abusive/criminal behavior. He is at least several decades older than 25-year-old "Emily," so it's an age gap romance. And he attacks Best Boy Reese, so he's just plain evil!
How do they bring out the best in each other?
"Emily" believes that her purpose is to improve the lives of others, even at her own expense. By loving her no matter what she achieves or how she behaves, Wayne gives "Emily" a little space to be "selfish" and "bad" -- to be vulnerable and fallible. She's going to need that in the coming days: you can't save everyone in Scarlet Hollow.
Wayne, like any good cosmic horror monster, is indifferent to the cares of humans. He'd have no reason to intervene in the story if it weren't for his bond with "Emily." "Emily" gives him the motivation to act: to instigate, to exposit, to protect. Where would he be as a character without "Emily?"
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since everyone is confessing their stories and their experience on hellfire, after abit of messing around and laughing at the sheer stupidity of some of these groomers im gonna tell EVERYONE what only a very very small handful of hellfire knows about.
Enviosa, as alot of older members know me and her 'dated' for a little bit, this relationship lasted around 6 months and some people found our relationship cute and super loving which was infact not what was happening, at first i thought it was love at first meet and her seemed to naturally keep finding eachother in game and eventually became friends and now that i look back on it i just feel like i was preyed upon and targeted. i was and am a VERY mentally unstable person i struggle with a multitude of mental disorders and i will admit i was at my lowest point when i met enviosa. at first she gave me all the attention and love i had always craved as a love deprived kid i grew up in a very troubled household and the only way i could ever receive any sort of 'validation' was simply me being groomed by older men online, and of course history repeats itself.
enviosa love bombed me completely trapping me, at first i thought we were simply affectionate friends giving eachother the attention and love we both wanted and needed but i quickly learned i was being stringed along into a very serious relationship being completely wrapped around her finger i did whatever she wanted i did whatever i could to please her and keep her i will admit, my behaviors were toxic but i was extremely mentally troubled 14 yr old and im expected to be the perfect lover? she was 17 going onto 18 she knew the maturity difference she knew what she was doing there is no excuse.
with my toxic traits came extreme jealousy that i still struggle with, i would begin to get to angry my vision would quite literally go white from pure jealousy i remember physically puking from it causing me to lash out at my friends by distancing myself from everyone i knew, i was no longer a member of hellfire i was entirely dedicated to enviosa and her needs and wants and she js happened to play on hellfire.
whenever my jealousy would get bad and i would send her sad paragraphs about how i was feeling actively communicating in a healthy manner instead of trying to help me and find solutions and listen to me i was simply guilt tripped and basically told i was "wrong" and would end up with me apologising for communicating how i felt.
when some close friends found out about our age gap i began to lie and tell people i was 15 turning 16 and it turns out enviosa was already telling people i was 15 turning 16 before i even started doing it, we had literaly conversations about how she wouldnt be able to "touch me for a couple years" once she turned 18 and mentioned "well you consent to everything i say and do" im legally UNABLE to consent? hello?
lets not forget reese, me and envi were having a rough patch (again) and she was either actively STREAMING our conversation to HER FRIENDS a very PRIVATE conversation which was once again about my horrible issues with jealousy and in the midst of believing i was about to lose the 'love of my life' i began to receive very hateful and genuinely horrible dms from reese + another person i will not name. i will be honest and admit enviosa manipulated all three of us making me out to be some monster so i do not entirely blame their actions but they are still accountable for what they said and did.
i would LOVE to also mention how obsessive she was with me communicating how i always had to communicate how i felt and what was making me feel like that ect ect but they would NEVER EVER communicate how they felt till it was the breaking point and would get mad at me cuz she needed space and to js leave her alone perhaps tell me? just mayybbee tell me instead of using INGAME BODY LANGUAGE to tell u how u feel LMAO, in the end of our relationship they began to just treat me like i was nobody the affection was suddenly gone and she was super dry with me i would write literally PARAGRAPHS abt how i feel like our relationship is dying and i feel like u dont care abt me anymore and wanna know what i was met with?? "ok lol…well i do so idk what u want me to do??" she couldnt make time to atleast tell me shes busy or lmk like "hey im gonna be doing this" and would js bascially make me feel bad for missing her.
!!!MASSIVE TW!!!
At the end of it all she was super sudden and said i would never listen to her when she voiced her concerns, she was complaining abt things i had done the ENTIRE relationship so i didnt fully understand why and would often forget these things that bugged her and i will admit, it was toxic on my part. she had me begging and begging since it was just a "break" and not an actual break up and she practically led me on as i would ask her if there was still a chance and all i got was "idk" then claimed she didnt wanna say yes cuz she didnt wanna give me false hope as if a idk isnt giving me false hope? after i met my current best friend who was previously wrapped around her finger like reese and i were, she helped me come to the realization that SHE was the problem and not me being and it sent me into a rage, being an angry teen i sent her a longg text abt how this was all her fault and a lot of not so nice things
which i understand wasnt very mature and was toxic but i was once again guilt tripped as she threatened me with her death, saying "ill have to go clean up the blood" which sent me into a spiral i begged her so much to get help and not to do that, "heh i guess its my fault :]" type shi, im still unsure if she was lying or not but if she was actually trying to end her own life i regret trying to help her and i know wishing death upon someone is horrible but she has traumatized me in numerous ways and put me into one of the LOWESTS points in my life.
but thats my hellfire story, i know many people within hellfire didnt enjoy me and thought i was rude ect ect but to those that were my actual friends and to my one freind (my pookie) thank you for making hellfire enjoyable while it lasted.
DISCLAIMER
i was toxic, i know i was i wasnt entirely in the right but i was and still am just a kid.
reese isnt entirely to blame in that situation it was horrible what they said but again they were lied to.
.
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Scarlet Hollow ask game
Tagged by @cymatile AND @georgiedoesntfloat 🖤TYSM for always including me in these haha
I'll offer up two variants for some of the answers, using my main OC file (Ashe my beloved) and my 2nd one that I use to mess around (Atlas who I have mentioned like... Once-)
TRAITS:
Your "canon" trait combination?
Ashe: Mystical/Hot. I will take any chance I get to use my attractive OC son-
(2nd best to go option tho via) Atlas (maybe I just like 'A' names lol): Mystical/Street Smarts. Let me break all the rules and lie my way thru everything pls-
(basically, I like it if it can help me socially and Street Smarts has its perks there too haha)
What third trait would you add for hardcore mode? For Ashe I'm tied between Talk to Animals and Street Smart. Animals to go down the full something is definitely up with him kind of vibe vs the one he'll actually likely have due to his personality/bad boy roots lmao.
Atlas gets Book Smart, to be deceptively like the type where he doesn't look it.
What trait are you least drawn to? Powerful Build. Strong? My vain bb Ashe who would never chip a nail? I promise you if he looks like he has muscle it's purely for show lol. And Atlas is a stick.
Aside from achievement hunting, I'm also just not down to throwing hands/go for physical strength to solve my problems haha. Nice if you want your MC to lean more to himbo if you pair w/ hot, but if not for that then nah :p
Coolest trait? Mystical. I know I'm not alone on this haha. Aside from enjoying lore and slapping it on almost all my runs for my OC army, I feel like it fits best for SH's setting.
ROMANCE:
Who are you romancing? Reese for Ashe and Wayne for Atlas
(me slapping the two Monster Lover achievements like DO YOU SEE THESE)
What romance are you least interested in? Dr Kelly. I do not hate her per say, I am just emotionally reactive to the *motions to the whole revelations of Episode 4*
Who would you romance if every single character was eligible? Isaacs or Harrison, likely? Like, I know Bo is a popular choice and I do like him, but considering it's 50/50 if he loses his dad, I wanna give the poor guys space to grieve first cause he's a sweet fellow.
MISCELLANEOUS:
What character would hurt you the most if something bad happened to them? Not including Reese who I am deeply hoping is ok on the endings where he's still breathing, I gotta say Kaneeka and Tabitha. For Tabby, I'd put my MC thru hell if I have to (and I legit yelled when she choose to take on those years the first time I played Episode 3 like Tabby NO I'LL DO IT PLS); for Kaneeka, god her whole situation is just shitty I just want the best from her and someplace that she can go very far from her mom p l s I will cry if something happens to her-
Would you stay in Scarlet Hollow when the week is over? It's too early to say. Very likely no because SH rn doesn't strike me like it will let you burn the root of whatever looms and haunts over the holler. If anything, I wanna drag people OUT of Scarlet Hollow by week's end.
Who would you vote for dog mayor? Scraps. I trust Gretchen and I just think Scraps is cool.
Tagging: no one, my SH Tumblr circle is so small anyone I would have thought of tagging has already been tagged on another person's post 😂
#tagging game#(Scarlet Hollow)#maybe I need to seek out more SH moots but I'm such a ???? kind of bean#I'm lucky to have met all u SH moots <3
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The gigantic form of Space stretched seemingly infinite.
A vast number of stars and systems among them.
It’s a shame they were all going to die.
In the vastness of this space stood the one who would end it all.
He gazed upon this expanse and under his metal mask, Victor Von Doom grinned.
Owen Reese popped his eye’s open and sat upright in his hotel bed.
He heard a thunk from outside his door and he quickly got out of bed and got into the closet as loud thuds turned into bangs upon his door.
He didn’t want to kill them but he would, because he knew what he was needed for.
The door crashed open and in strode the two green clad cards with latverian flags on their uniforms.
“Please leave,” he thought to himself but dared not say aloud.
Then in came the thing he hoped never to see again.
Lucia Von Bardas walked through the doorframe smiling her devilish smile.
“We know you are in here Reece, your lord want’s a discussion with you.”
A green light flashed bright and a portal opened in the middle of the hotel room. Through the portal stepped the one figure Owen hoped never to see again.
Doctor Doom lifted his hand and the portal closed behind him.
“My lord you should not be on Earth it’s not sa-
He turned and looked at her causing her to instantly close her mouth.
Doom moved his in the direction of the closet and the doors shot open.
“The time is now Owen,” Doom uttered the terrible metallic sounds through his helmet masquerading as words and Owen felt himself being lifted into the air.
“NO NO! NOT AGAIN PLEASE!” Owen screamed and thrashed as he felt the familiar tickle of Doom’s power.
Doom opened the portal again and he and Lucia went through as it shut behind them.
The Molecule Man had been found.
———
Owen screamed as the tickle moved across his ribs and belly, it had been like this for… he didn’t know he lost track of the time. He wanted it to stop but no matter how many times he said the word it didn’t happen. Doom just stared at him on his throne.
Doom then brought his hand up and the torture stopped and Owen dropped to the ground breathless.
“I don’t want to do this.” He spastically tried to catch his breath.
“You have no choice,” Victor stood from his throne.
“There is always a choice,” Owen looked up at him.
“Not for much longer,” Victor lifted him up and continued again with the tickles as Owen broke into howls of laughter once more.
Doom smiled behind his mask and the white light of The Beyond began to open.
From the light the golden body of the three headed god fell and landed on the meteor.
“Tickled to death.” Doom frowned.
The white light closed once more and faded as the dark of space returned.
Soon, as soon as he could break the molecule man the prophecy could fulfill itself.
———
It didn’t take as long as he thought.
24 hours 12 minutes and 35 seconds to be exact when Owen began to beg.
“OKAHAAAAAAY I WILL DO IT JUST STOHOP!”
Doom stopped.
“Good.” Doom uttered the word with such an evil sinister tone you would have thought it was a monster’s voice.
Doom looked out at the rift in space beginning to form just as he calculated.
This was proof they were all wrong, Reed had been wrong and he was right.
Now they would pay.
Written by, tickle-beans
An M.F.T.B.U. Production
Doctor Doom will return in
Avengers: Secret Tickle Wars
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Event: Monster Masquerade
Closed For: Poppy Reed @moonglowmagic
⁺✦.° ☾ °.✦⁺
It took a little meandering to find the party’s host, but once she found her, it was easy for Reese to make her way over to her friend. For a bit of fun, she teleported to an empty space behind the other witch, like she used to when they were kids. “Hello there, Miss Supreme,” Reese said, leaning over Poppy’s shoulder and whispering in her ear to spook her. She pulled back before Poppy could retaliate and grinned. “Nice party so far. Fancier that I thought it would be. Didn’t think it was your style, Pops. Or did you just want to be princess for the day?”
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Title: Monsters vs Aliens
Rating: PG
Director: Conrad Vernon, Rob Letterman
Cast: Reese Witherspoon, Seth Rogen, Hugh Laurie, Rainn Wilson, Will Arnett, Kiefer Sutherland, Paul Rudd, Stephen Colbert, Julie White, Jeffrey Tambor, Amy Poehler, Ed Helms, Renée Zellweger, Sean Bishop, Rich Dietl, Rob Letterman, Tom McGrath, Chris Miller
Release year: 2009
Genres: science fiction, family, adventure
Blurb: When Susan Murphy is unwillingly clobbered by a meteor full of outer-space gunk on her wedding day, she mysteriously grows to 49 feet and 11 inches. The military jumps into action and captures Susan, secreting her away to a covert government compound, where she is renamed Ginormica and placed in confinement with a ragtag group of monsters.
#monsters vs aliens#pg#conrad vernon#rob letterman#reese witherspoon#seth rogen#hugh laurie#rainn wilson#will arnett#2009#science fiction#family#adventure
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OK, so solo ttrpgs
Turnes out, there are plenty of them! Checked out itch.io and found a couple (10 to be exact), mostly for myself but maybe it'll be useful for others.
1. Headware, where you play as a spy who tries to hijack competitor company.
2. Intergalactic Space Trader (ISP), where you go across space and trade.
3. Quests over Coffee, more card heavy game from what I can gather, comedic tho.
4. Last Tea Shop, more somber game about waiting and talking with rare visitors.
5. Elegy, game about surviving city as a new vampire
6. Her Odyssey, where you go on adventure, just not on very bright one (maybe).
7. Eleventh Beast, where you hunt monsters.
8. Urban Legend Club, where you uncover mysteries.
9. Tales of the Burned Stones, where your corpse comes back to life and now has to pay it's debt by helping other people.
10. Alone on a Map, where you make a map
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Night 3! September 3 2023
Arrival 9:20PM
YETI: Campground Kills 10:30-11
Dueling Dragons: Choose Thy Fate 11:05-11:35
Surfer Boy Pizza
Surfer Boy Hawaiian Pizza(French bread style pizza with crispy Spam®, pineapple chutney, jalapeño, scallions and mozzarella), Surfer Boy Vegan Pizza(French bread style pizza with Gardein�� sausage crumbles, pineapple, jalapeño, and mozzarella), Yuri's Favorite(Chocolate cake with peanut butter mousse and Reese's Pieces), Surfer Boy Tropical Dream Punch (orange, pineapple, lime, passion fruit, and grapefruit juice, with vanilla bean Non- Alcoholic)
Splash down space
Roaming Megan's
Jungle of Doom: Expedition Horror
Universal Monsters: Unmasked 12:20-1:25
Jungle of Doom: Expedition Horror
Dark Zodiac
Bloodmoon: Dark Offerings 1:55-2:05
Left 2:20
Coins: 0
Cup: 1 freestyle
Coin count: 0.82
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Sinful Beasts characters
Eric (lust)
is enthusiastic about everything. Essentially imagine a teenage border collie. That's Eric. He can be rather naive and gullible, but actually is surprisingly book smart (thanks to going down wikipedia rabbit holes far too late at night)
Arthur (Gluttony)
Chilled out and cheerful, and tries to see the best in people (with one major exception). As a Gluttony Beast he has the power to eat anything he wants without negative consequences, so he basically survives off of cheap sweet baked stuff. Arthur likes fixing and building things, basically any hobby that keeps his hands busy
Reese (Greed)
Ah, yes. The afore-mentioned one exception. Reese is a cranky, gambling, hoarding adrenaline-junkie with a lot of ambition that is currently going nowhere. It's hard to move up in the world when you're an inhuman monster representing one of the seven sins, and that's a major factor in why he's so grumpy all the time. It's not hard to see why he clashes with Arthur so much.
Stevie (Sloth)
Unsurprisingly, Stevie is very lazy. When she isn't asleep, she often seems a little bit high, but she's actually just kind of like that. It's difficult to faze her and she very much has a 'go with the flow' sort of philosophy. Stevie's naturally good at thinking outside the box, which allows her to come up with handy ways to do as little as possible. She also has little sense of personal space and anyone who sits still for too long may find themselves being used as a pillow.
Colin (Envy)
Can come across as skittish or overly-cautious, but he's had a pretty tough past few years and he only just met everyone else, so he's got a good excuse. This causes people to coddle him a bit, even though he's a lot tougher than his... everything suggests. Just give him some time to adjust guys! Colin can turn invisible, but isn't good at controlling his power, so he often does it by accident when surprised, scared, embarrassed, etc. He also has big ol' puppy dog eyes that he is comically unaware of. 🥺
Lucille (Pride)
Unwitting mom friend. I don't know how she hasn't figured that out yet. She's confident, always trying to be helpful (even when it might not be needed) and maybe likes to stick her beak into other people's business a bit too much.
Kelsey (Wrath)
THIS MONSTER PUNCHES FACISTS. Or aspires to at least. They're very cautious about their temper, so they often do calming activities like gardening, yoga, or brooding dramatically on the roof of the house in the rain. You're not Batman Kelsey, I'm sorry.
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Look at How Far We've Come
The time has finally come. Will the gremlin and I be able to accomplish this feat that’s set out before us? The remarkable task of creating our aunt’s birthday cake, a double layered princess cake, seemed daunting while we searched for supplies we needed in what would remind a reasonable person of a labyrinth. Pure white crown molding drawer faces and cabinet doors populated the kitchen in such a way it looked like a toddler flicked a 2-foot-long paintbrush dunked in white paint. Navigating this new world whilst attempting to create our tour de force was relatively stressful; similar to the feeling one would get on test day. However, hope came in the form of Reese’s past experiences, grabbing one of the available mini aprons tucked away in one of the many bottom drawers spewed around the kitchen. “Gween Daddy. Gerch. Gerch Daddy,” she said, referencing the Grinch perched upon a snowy mountain pictured on her green Christmas apron. With all the necessary ingredients laid upon the speckled grey granite countertop, the gremlin grab her chair to become wrist level with the surface we’d both eventually become familiar with.
As we readied our newly found stainless-steel bowls for both the dry and wet ingredients and the frosting, we utilized the kitchen’s sound system to listen to the gremlin’s playlist composition: Taylor Swift, Cole Swinton (Heads Carolina is quite catchy), and Lorde. She’s such a little goom when she gets her way, evident through how her smirk develops by way of the left side of her mouth rising as she laughs. The flour, baking soda, and the grainy salt granules went into one, responsible by Reese and her navy-blue measuring cups while I prepared the eggs, vanilla, and the newly melted chocolate in another. After that, I gave the gremlin the flat black stir stick to blend up her powdery mixture. She looked at me and stated, “I hungy, Daddy.” After enquiring where the snack drawer was and finding a Chips Ahoy cookie for the starving monster, we combined the ingredients and whipped the thick consistency. As she added some water to thin the batter out, I set the oven temperature to 350°, filling the space with an amalgamated aroma of the few burned crumbs that were in the bottom of the stove. That soon changed however as the two differently sized pans of cake batter went into their heated prison for 40 minutes. The smell was like warmed sugar and vanilla.
Trying to get a cake out of the pan can sometimes prove to be difficult. Switching between a spatula, fork, and a Kitchen Aid mixing stick, we managed to pop out both circular cakes onto the stainless-steel cooling rack in place without much damage (that came a few seconds later when a lack of patience compelled the monster to grab a corner and toss it in her mouth. “Ooooh, hot Daddy, hot,” she said). While the cakes were cooling with waves of steam dancing from the top of them, we mixed the pink frosting in the unused mixing bowl. Golden butter, velvety icing sugar, aromatic and dark vanilla extract, and just enough milk to thin it out. The goose had control over the food coloring. Holding the tiny bottle over the stainless-steel bowl, she counted the drops. “Du, thwee, pour, pive,” she continued as she bopped her head to some Shaina Twain over the speakers. I chose to handle the stirring of the mixture for fear of another blob on the ceiling occurrence (she didn’t like this at all and it was evident from her bottom lip sticking out as far as her petit nose). With the cakes now cooled, we began to frost the larger one. Both with a red-handled frosting applicator, we fared fairly well with two sets of hands going at it (it was mostly me. She kept on eating what was ever on the applicator). Upon placing the smaller one atop of what now looked like a Barbie platform, we both frosted it to complete the rough look of the cake.
The most difficult aspect was now completed. Though it by no means looks like something Buddy Valastro created, our double stacked princess cake was something we were very proud of. “You want to put on the pearls Reesie?” I asked as her impressed look continued. “Berls! Berls, Daddy,” she said as I got them out. Setting a couple dozen in a bowl, their color reminded me of the silver armour you’d see on Game of Thrones. While she very delicately placed each individual pearl in its place, sticking it in the pink frosting, I put some uncolored frosting in a bag after placing the tip in it to apply it. Happy Birthday Aunt! we wrote with my hands guiding Reese’s to ensure it’s at least mildly readable. It turned out really lovely actually. All our hard work over the last few weeks accumulated in a wonderful fashion. One final high-five with the gremlin than it was clean up time. This was normally where we’d part ways, but since our new environment had a dishwasher, she stayed to load it (both with the dirty dishes and herself at one point being fully inside it). With everything done and clean, I picked up the gremlin, gave her a kiss on the forehead and pointed to the towered cake we just made. “You made that,” I said. She looked into my eyes and with one tiny hand cupping my left cheek while her other hand pointed to the cake, she said, “Reesie and Daddy did.”
Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this and comment!
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Take me to the river movie what is the family secret
with various directors and industry professionals. Movie critic Mary Cox lives in Wood River and studied film at the University of California, Los Angeles. I think this film owes me several stars because I can’t give it any.
go see “Last night in Soho” and avoid this film like the plague. If you like horror movies or psychological thrillers.
The best thing I can say about this film is that it is only 99 minutes long. “Antlers” has more loose ends than fringe on a rug. Generally, a movie is tied together in the denouement (the last 10 minutes of the movie). This piece of nonsense was directed by Scott Cooper and the script was poorly written by Cooper, Nick Antosca, and Henry Chaisson. All I could think of when I watched the film is that they must have been desperate for money to agree to act in “Antlers.” What a waste of an excellent cast of actors. Reese's 9-inch peanut butter cup sells out I would have enjoyed seeing more of them and a lot less of the monster and kids. It would make more sense if they were married instead of siblings.Īcademy Award nominee Amy Madigan is Principal Ellen Booth and Academy Award nominee Graham Greene is Warren Stokes, the retired sheriff. Russell and Plemons are no more alike physically than oranges and bananas. That would be Joe Dantes epic space adventure The Explorers, but the 1986 classic would be the film that initially defined his career and. We have no idea why she came back to Oregon from California and that is totally irrelevant to the story but is never fully explained. Stand By Me was not River Phoenixs first feature film. Three, Julie was abused by her father when she was young and fled her home, but it is just out there. Two, we have no idea why this monster exists and why it eats people. Spoiler alert: This movie does nothing to suspend my disbelief.įirst, the Oregon Child Welfare removes children from their homes at a higher rate and returns them to foster care more often than the national average and they would have been all over this situation where both a teacher and the doctor who examines Lucas recognize physical abuse. Thomas) whose dark secrets lead to encounters with a legendary ancestral creature that eats people. In an isolated Oregon town, a middle-school teacher, Julie Meadows (Keri Russell) and her brother Paul, the local sheriff, (Jesse Plemons) become embroiled with her troubled student, Lucas Weaver, (Jeremy T.
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