#also this is my first time doing blood patterns like that and WOW does it look better than I thought it would

[whatsnewalycat]

Psychomanteum / Chapter 12

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 12: Ghost in the Machine

Chapter Summary: You and Dieter go on a date while grappling with the past, present, and future.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 8.7k+

Content / Warnings: alternating pov, insecurities, mirror, angst, fluff, acting career things idk, awkward/nervous speech patterns, cocaine use, past infidelity, suspicion, dissociation, argument, abuse mention

Notes: Chapter title from "Ghost in the Machine" by SZA featuring Phoebe Bridgers. Howdy! If you want the taglist, or AO3 link, head on down to the masterlist. If you want a link to the spotify playlist for this chapter, let me know and I'll send it to ya.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Every window in the house sits ajar, welcoming a warm cross-breeze that tickles your skin. It carries an earthy scent from further up the hill, giving faint whiffs of sage and dirt. 

Dieter moseys around the house in his boxers, voyaging between his kitchen sink and potted plants, watering can in hand. He mumbles sweet little affirmations to his green dependents, checking in with each in a hushed voice, saying shit like, “Now, how are we doing here? Thirsty?” or “Looking great today,” or “Wow, someone needs a haircut.” 

From your place nestled into the couch, you alternate between watching him and studying the white wisps of steam that swirl off the surface of your coffee cup. 

This morning, while peaceful, has you feeling off-kilter. Your mind keeps wandering to the interview with DIRT. To your mom. To Dieter. 

Overnight, the dust began to settle in your mind, providing more clarity. Details started to surface shortly after you woke. Things you heard yesterday, but didn’t understand or deem important in the moment. 

Like David’s statement: “Dieter has had a lot of big changes in his personal life this past year as well, with his divorce to Anika, and the scandals surrounding it.”

Like your mother saying: “He had a problem with drugs, you know, big problem, had other women, too,“ and, “I know he has a cocaine habit, and that he cheated on his wife, does that sound like anyone else?”

Like Dieter saying: “No, I definitely deserved that.”

In each still, calm moment, they replay. Every time you look at Dieter and your heart aches with love and adoration, your memory blindsides you with this information. 

Is your mom right? Did he cheat on Anika? 

Or is she just trying to drive a wedge between you?

Wouldn’t he have told you when he had the chance?

You know you could do a web search to look into it, do your own research into the matter. Hell, you could even just fucking ask him. But the prospect makes you itch. 

Because what if she’s wrong and he thinks you don’t trust him? Or, worse, what if she’s right? 

Fuck, what if she’s right? 

Your blood starts to buzz hot and rapid through your veins. You look around for an escape hatch and see a bookshelf, then set your coffee cup down to approach it. 

Among knickknacks and a few small plants housed on the solid oak shelves, you find titles you expect to see, like 1984 by George Orwell, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann, and at least a dozen art reference books. You also find a few things you weren’t expecting, like Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, half a dozen Julia Quinn novels, and, most importantly, a first edition of Betty Crocker’s Picture Cook Book. 

You pull the cookbook out and examine it, running your fingertips along the frayed corners of the faded red hardcover, then flip it open, asking, “Why do you have this?”

Dieter looks up from an unruly Monstera, “Have what?”

“This cookbook,” you answer, padding across the living room’s black and white striped rug to show him. 

He frowns as you hold it up, shaking his head, “Must’ve been Annie’s. She left some stuff behind when she moved out.” 

“My grandma had this one,” you murmur, glancing up at him, “Is—is it ok if I look through it?”

He scoffs and shrugs, “Not like she’s coming to get it,” then returns his attention to the Monstera. 

You settle into the couch, thumbing through the yellowed pages, reading recipes, tips, and instructions compiled for housewives of the 1950’s. Dieter finishes grooming his plants and plops down at your side, curling an arm around your shoulders, “Betty giving you any inspiration?”

“Fun fact: Betty Crocker isn’t an actual person,” you smirk, turn the page to the section on custard pies, and inform him, “In the 1920’s, a flour company noticed they got a lot of homemakers requesting baking advice, so they adopted the moniker Betty Crocker as a pen name for the people who answered the questions.”

“Huh,” he blinks, “Interesting.” 

“Listen to this,” you flip to a dog-eared page towards the back of the book and start reading from it, “If you’re tired from overwork, house chores you’re bound to shirk, read these pointers tried and true, and discover what to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Tips for housewives who are fucking miserable,” you tell him, then read another excerpt, “Get outdoors every day. Take a walk, do some gardening, take the children for an outing, or pay your neighbor a short visit,” and another, “Harbor pleasant thoughts while working. It will make every task lighter and pleasanter. Notice humorous and interesting incidents to relate at dinnertime, etc.”

“Jesus,” he mutters.

You want to tell him that the page was bookmarked. Its connection to the spine, well-creased. Referenced often. The comment lingers at the back of your throat. 

When you backtrack your place in the book, trying to resume your study on custard pies, a white index card slides from between two pages.

“Oh,” you pluck it out and furrow your brow at the ingredients, measurements, instructions printed in a precise script, “It’s a recipe for banitsa. You ever had this?” 

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s like a flaky cheese pastry… phyllo, feta, yogurt,” you murmur, then glance up at him, “What do we have going on today?”

“Reservations at 7, and Darlene’s gonna stop by later, but other than that,” he grins and shakes his head, “Nada.”

So, the two of you smoke a joint on the patio while Lincoln picks up the called-for ingredients Dieter doesn’t have on hand. After Lincoln drops them off, you sanitize the sun-drenched quartz of Dieter’s kitchen countertop, all sparkling rainbows in the light. Dieter spreads a paint-splattered drop cloth across the no-man’s land between the dining room and kitchen, sets up an easel, equips it with a canvas, then rolls a little yellow file cabinet out next to it. 

He puts on a mix of music described as roller-rink 1978. As the funky tunes play over the sound system wired throughout his house, you attach a bread hook to his matte black stand mixer and sift bread flour into its 7-qt bowl. 

Then you go to work. 

You concentrate on the task at hand in each given moment, taking it step-by-step. Measuring, mixing, and kneading. Trying not to think too long about the romance novels lining the bookshelf, or the recipe’s delicate handwriting, or the dog-eared page, or Dieter’s baited breath after he recounted why he and Anika split, or your mother saying, “I know he has a cocaine habit, and that he cheated on his wife, does that sound like anyone else?” Or David Alterman asking, “Do you worry that those patterns are bound to repeat themselves?”

Instead of these things, you try your hardest to occupy your hazy, pot-laced brain by separating the dough into equal pieces while humming along to ABBA and Elton John and Electric Light Orchestra. 

When the recipe calls for the dough to rest for an hour, you clean your workspace, throw together the banitsa filling, and wash the dishes. 

Then the timer tells you: seventeen minutes left. 

You turn your attention to Dieter. His bare feet move fluid from side-to-side, paintbrush flitting between the palette and canvas as he lip-syncs along to “Hollywood Swinging” by Kool & The Gang. A grin stretches across your face. 

They cannot be right about him. This is not the kind of man who has affairs. No fucking way. This man is an angel. 

I’ve been fooled before. 

You banish the thought with a quick shake of your head, then try to distract yourself by asking, “Do you still see ghosts?”

He looks up at you, then back at his work-in-progress with a shrug, “I don’t usually see them per se, it’s more like a, uhh… an understanding. Or a knowing, I guess. Like a picture in my head with a feeling attached to it.”

His features twitch animatedly as he talks, accenting his words, dark eyes glancing between the canvas and your face. 

“It’s like… have you ever had intrusive thoughts?” 

“Have I ever,” you snort.

“It’s like that,” he explains, “Like a flash of something. Not like that kid in the Sixth Sense, seeing them fuckin’ uhh… walking around and shit.” 

You hop up onto the kitchen counter and inquire, “Where’s the most haunted place you’ve been?” 

Dieter pauses mid-brushstroke and scrunches his face up as he thinks about this, resuming when he says, “Well, hotels are always the worst. They’re so transitive, you know, all this energy coming and going constantly. And the people stuck there… they usually went intending to have a good time, a vacation or party or whatever, and something happened to them. That, or… they went in with an intention not to come out and succeeded.”

The implication unfolds in your brain, and you nod. 

“Either way they seem to have unfinished business,” he shrugs and squints at the canvas, smudging paint with his thumb, “Usually they’re harmless, so it’s pretty easy to ignore,” he pauses here, clears his throat, then continues, “But in terms of the worst vibes I got, like, uhh… how scared it made me feel, it was definitely Ethan.”

Blood drains from your face and extremities, leaving you cold and dizzy. 

“I—I thought—wait, really?”

He squints up at the ceiling, like he’s re-evaluating his statement, then levels his eyes with yours with a nod, “Yeah. At first, at least. Like the first night I was there, I felt him and it was,” he furrows his brow and drops his gaze to the floor, “Dark. Really fucking dark. And I was already in a bad way, y’know, I went to your place straight from the airport and you were—”

“A fucking disaster?”

“A beautiful trainwreck,” he corrects with a persuasive smile. It falters as soon as he continues, “And I just had this big fight with Annie about the divorce and, uhh, stuff, and hadn’t used blow in a day or two, just… not great,” he swallows, then shakes his head, “I think maybe… he could sense that about me. It was a warning. I remember knowing that’s what it was.”

“Oh,” you breathe. Look down at your hands. Start picking at your cuticles.  

“It was hard to stay. So… I left.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad. I’m sorry. I mean, he told me that he liked you—”

“It got better, really, love. It’s fine,” he assures you, then frowns, “Wait, he told you he likes me? Did you ask him about me or something?”

“Well, yeah,” you drop your gaze to the floor, “I just wanted to—I don’t know, see if he approved, I guess.” 

His head jerks back and he blinks, “Oh.” 

“Yeah—he, um, told me that he always liked you,” you tilt your head at your dangling legs and chuckle, “Told me you were a triangle guy.” 

Dieter lets out a light puff of laughter. 

“He asked if you make me happy,” you tell him, so quiet it’s almost a whisper, then look up to study his reaction. 

He pulls his paintbrush from the canvas and stares at you, his eyes soft and searching, “And?”

A soft scoff flees your lips, and you say, “Of course you do, Dee.”

“Yeah?” 

This crooked smile spreads across his face and makes your heart ache. 

“Obviously,” you chuckle, grinning in return. 

Dieter seems to think about this, pink tongue rolling along his bottom lip as his eyebrow quirks. He sets his palette down on the little yellow file cabinet, drops his paintbrush into a cup of water, then crosses the room towards you. 

The way he looks at you seems to take a physical presence on your skin, making you shiver before he even reaches you. When he does, his hands slide up your bare legs, fingertips dipping under the hem of your jean shorts. His hips nudge your knees apart. 

You hook your arms around his neck as he tugs you closer, brushing his nose against yours, “You make me happy, too.” 

He kisses you, gentle for only a moment before your tongues meet. 

It’s so soft and wet it makes you gasp. A rumble sounds from his throat and his grip tightens. You arch your back, balling his shirt in your fist

He guides your hand to the bulge in his sweatpants, “Do you feel that? How happy you make me?” 

“That’s pretty fucking happy,” you grin, wrapping your fingers around his girth, over the soft fabric. You start to work him and he tosses his head back with a moan. 

Your lips meet his again, finding depth. It’s a slow heat, the way you take your time with his cock in your grip and your tongue in his mouth. Drives him crazy. His breaths carry strained groans that tickle your throat and make your cunt throb. 

When you roll your thumb against the damp spot in his sweatpants, he gasps, “Fuck–”

You hook a finger under his waistband, “I wanna see it.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, pausing to drag his tongue against yours, earning a whimper from you, then says, “Any time, any place, he’s all yours, baby.”

And right when he starts to pull down his pants, the front door swings open. 

You both jump and look towards the noise. 

In walks Darlene, cell phone pinched between her ear and shoulder, talking to someone on the other line, “Yeah, I just got to Dieter’s house, I’m going to tell him—Yeah, I will—Ok. Ok.”

Dieter rearranges himself and meets your eyes, murmuring, “To be continued,” before turning to approach her. 

“Yep, bye,” she tosses her phone in her designer bag and sighs, looking between the two of you, “Did I interrupt something?”

Your mouth gapes open. You shake your head and hop down off the counter, “We, um–we–”

Dieter cuts in, thank fucking god, responding, “No. What's the news?” 

Darlene raises an eyebrow at him, then you. She leans back against the dining room table and crosses her arms, “Well, I raised hell at DIRT. David Alterman is on disciplinary leave. The interview will be published without the phone call tomorrow. So… we will see what happens.” 

“Oh, that’s good!” you grin, glancing at the back of Dieter’s head, then to Darlene, “Thank you so much. And—and I’m sorry, you know, you had to deal with that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Darlene nods, flashing you a wane smile, then looks to Dieter, “Can I steal you for a sec? I have to talk to you about something.” 

He clears his throat and nods, “Yeah,” then follows her outside. 

You release a little chuckle and smile to yourself. 

The timer goes off. 

Dieter slides the door closed behind him, following Darlene around the centerpiece of his patio: a sprawling oak tree. He looks up into it as he trails behind, admiring all the twisted innards of the beast. When they step out of its shade and into the hot afternoon sun, he grimaces. 

She plugs a cigarette between her lips and lights it, asking him on the exhale, “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” he takes a step forward and leans against the steel railing, peaking over the edge to look down the cliffside. 

“How’s she doing since yesterday? That was a fucking mess,” Darlene leans on the railing beside him. 

Dieter scrunches his nose up, shrugging, “Kind of hard to read, I guess. She seems fine. But–but I don’t know, she’s just,” he pauses here and frowns, “I think I would be freaking out if I were her, you know? But she’s not? And I don’t know what to do about that.” 

She flicks her cigarette and raises her eyebrows, then sighs, “Actually, Dieter, that’s what I wanted to talk about with you.” 

“About what? Lua? What about her?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you serious about this girl?” 

“Jesus Christ, Darlene,” he groans, dropping his head, “Yes, I’m fucking serious. I wouldn’t be doing all this bullshit for just anyone.” 

“It just seems like there’s a lot you haven’t figured out. Maybe some things you haven’t discussed,” she takes a drag and looks him up and down, “What if I got some intel that says she’s still selling drugs?”

He plays along, inquiring, “What kind of drugs?”

“Edibles. Pot brownies, shit like that.”

“I’d say your intel is bunk. She’s straight.”

“Well, I looked into it,” she blows a plume of blue smoke out into the canyon, “She has no online presence, no license, sells out of her apartment—I mean, it fucking reeks, Dieter. How’s she able to make enough to live in that area with no marketing?”

“She doesn’t make a huge profit. I mean, this month I helped her with rent—”

“You’re fucking kidding me. So she’s using you—”

“No, she’s not. I had to beg her to let me help. It’s not like that,” he maintains, shaking his head, “I mean, who’s your source? Why are you even looking into this?” 

“I don’t trust her, Dieter! Something isn’t right, it’s not adding up.”

He pushes off the railing and pushes non-existent sleeves up his forearms, “Let’s say you’re right, and she’s selling edibles,” he stops for a beat, then scoffs, “Who fucking cares? Fucking pot brownies? Who gives a shit.”

“Movie studios care. The public cares. Doesn’t matter if it’s crack or pot, she’s a fucking drug dealer.”

“She’s not a fucking drug dealer, Darlene,” he snaps.

She stares at him. Takes a drag off her cigarette. 

He kneads his neck, shifting his weight from one foot, to the other, before throwing his hands out in exasperation, “I need you to just believe that, for once, someone loves me and is good for me. Please.” 

Darlene’s lips purse, “That’s what you said about Anika.”

“That—that’s different,” Dieter drops his gaze to the ground. 

“Is it, though?” she blinks at him, “You swore that was it, that she wasn’t a gold digger, and yet… now she’s ex-Mrs. Dieter Bravo. Walked away with almost half your estate in return for not selling your secrets. She’s a rich woman now.”

“Yep,” Dieter sighs, skidding his toes against the mahogany deckboards, “I’m just a big fuck up, you got me there.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she asserts, “I just want you to really think about this before doing anything… rash.” 

“I’m not going to run away and fucking marry her the first chance I get, ok?” he sneers, “Just—chill the fuck out.” 

“Dieter, let me be perfectly honest with you,” she drops her cigarette and crushes it with the toe of her beige pump, “I worry it’s more than you just being cunt-struck again.”

His head jerks back and he scoffs. 

She lowers her voice to a pleading tone, “Look, you’re falling headfirst into a serious relationship with this girl, she used to deal drugs, there’s all this shady stuff with her business, and… I just—I worry, are you, you know… are you ok?” 

“Am I ok?” he repeats the question, drenching it with incredulity, “What the fuck do you mean, am I ok?”

She studies his face, crossing her arms. A meaningful tilt of her head tells him everything he needs to know. 

His jaw gnashes from side-to-side and he shakes his head, “I’ve been clean for months, Darlene, because of her.” 

“Alright,” she raises her eyebrows and blinks, “Good.”

“Do you believe me?”

Darlene shrugs, “If you say you’re ok, you’re ok.” 

Bullshit.

“I am,” he confirms, his voice firm and final. 

“Great,” she nods, then pulls out her phone and looks at the screen, “Alright, well, I’ll keep an eye on things after the interview drops and let you know how it goes.” 

She stomps past him, the click-clack of her heels echoing out behind her, and exits out the side gate. 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, shaking his hands out at his sides, rolling his neck as he starts towards the glass patio door.

Dieter walks beside you as the hostess leads the way through the busy restaurant. Everything around him is white noise. It doesn’t matter at all. 

All that exists is his palm on the small of your back. His whole universe has boiled down to you, right now, draped in this white, flowing chiffon dress that Kelly picked out for tonight. You, all starry-eyed and dolled up, gawking at your surroundings because you’re just so damn excited to be at another fancy-schmancy restaurant.

Earlier today, while wrapped up in his sheets, you told him all about the menu, and haute cuisine, and French culinary history, and Escoffier. He closed his eyes and held your warm body in place next to his, content to listen to you chatter on as long as you’d allow him.

He loves that about you. How passionate you are in everything you do. How you slow to appreciate beauty in things like snowstorms, and layers in croissants, and even the subtle timbre of a cello woven into his favorite song. 

“Listen close,” you told him when you pointed it out, “It’s fucking incredible.” 

He did. 

He felt the chords vibrate through him, resolute and melodic. It gave the music new meaning, and he couldn’t believe he’d never noticed it before. He notices every time he hears it now. 

But that’s what you do. 

Everything seemed so fucking boring before you. Meaningless. You opened his eyes to what was right in front of him and gave it new life. Gave him new life. 

The hostess comes to a stop and gestures to a square table, laying a menu on either side of the white linen. You sit across from him and meet his gaze, face all lit up with that gorgeous fucking smile that makes his chest tighten. 

“Do you have a strategy in mind here?” he asks, leaning forward onto the table, rubbing his hands together, “Food, wine, dessert, the whole nine yards?”

“I love that movie,” you comment mildly, “Bruce Willis is hot.” 

He raises his eyebrows. 

“What?” you laugh.

“Bruce Willis, really?”

You study him, clearly very entertained, “Why, are you jealous?”

He scoffs at this, “No—I’m just saying, though, he’s never even been nominated for an Oscar—”

“Oh, well in that case,” you roll your eyes and let out this dramatic sigh. 

Dieter laughs and shakes his head, “Wow.”

“Ok, but really,” you turn your attention back to the menu. As you survey it, you tilt your head back and forth thoughtfully, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. A mischievous smirk plays on your lips and you ask, “Did Darlene say we were allowed one glass or one bottle of wine?”

Dieter taps an index finger to his chin and grins, “I recall her saying bottle, don’t you?”

“Mmmm, yep, now that you mention it, I’m like… 99% sure she said bottle,” you agree conspiratorially. 

He smiles up at you, but his breath hitches when something behind you catches his eye. 

Or, someone, rather. 

A bright tangerine dress tight around her petite, curvy frame. Loose chestnut curls flowing down her back. Glowing brown eyes locked onto his. A small smirk plays on her plump, shiny lips. 

His spine straightens and he mutters under his breath, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

You frown and follow his gaze to Lilly Stokes just as she pushes her chair back and starts towards the table. 

“Dieter, hiiii,” Lilly croons, squeezing his forearm, “How are you, Pookie? It’s been a minute.” 

Dieter watches your eyes flick between Lilly’s hand on his suit jacket, and her face, and Dieter’s face. He watches the gears turn. The light bulb turns on. Your eyebrows shoot up and you meet his gaze, then immediately drop your eyes to the tablecloth. 

“Fine,” he answers and leans back in his chair, pulling his arm from her grasp.  

Lilly glances back at her table, then to Dieter, “I’m here with Jay—you remember Jay, right?” 

Dieter blinks at her, thinking, “We’ve been inside you at the same time, of fucking course I remember Jay.”

But what he says is, “Yeah.” 

“Oh, duh,” Lilly waves off the obvious, then wets the seam of her mouth, eyes dragging along Dieter’s body, “We should merge tables so we can catch up.” 

“Oh, no—” Dieter shakes his head and gestures to you, “We’re—”

Lilly finally seems to notice your presence and turns towards you, “Oh my god, Dieter, she’s so cute, are you two on a date?”

“Yeah,” he meets your eyes for a moment before telling Lilly, “This is Louella.”

“Lou-el-la,“ Lilly repeats, enunciating each syllable like she’s trying to commit it to memory, “You don’t mind, do you, beautiful?” 

You stare at her for a beat like you’re trying to figure out what she’s asking, then stammer, “Me? Wh—I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s ok if we join you?” Lilly nods, batting her false eyelashes. She asks this in a condescending way, slowing her words down like she’s asking a toddler. 

Your throat croaks as you look from her, to Dieter, who’s mentally pleading, “Please no,” then back to Lilly, “Uhh—I mean, sure?”

He deflates as Lilly calls Jay over and pulls out a chair. You mouth, “Sorry.”

Jay Blackburn, who looks like a poor man’s Alexander Skarsgård but six inches shorter, saunters over, a lopsided grin plastered on his smug face, “Bravo. Long time no see.” 

“Yeah,” Dieter responds, shifting in his seat at the reminder. 

Across the table, you gnaw away at your bottom lip, eyes downcast, your bubbling excitement replaced with this raw, nervous energy. He soaks it up like a sponge. It trickles down his backbone and seeps into his bloodstream as he wrings his hands together. 

“Who do we have here?” Jay asks, dragging his eyes along your body, drinking in your beauty with zero fucking shame. 

Dieter’s jaw clenches and cocks to one side. His leg starts to bounce. 

“I’m Louella.”

A warm smile crosses your face and you extend a hand to him. 

Jay takes it in his like a baby bird and presses a kiss into your knuckles, then releases you, “Jay Blackburn.”

“Oh—um, nice to meet you,” you say, glancing at Dieter, then at Lilly, “And you are?”

Lilly bristles at this, huffing a little before her mask of sweetness goes back up and she responds, “Lilly Stokes.” 

“So nice to meet you,” you look from her to Jay, “Are you guys actors, too?” 

“Um, no,” Lilly lets out this half-chuckle, half-scoff, “That’s so funny. No. Well, maybe someday. But for now I’m just a makeup artist, content creator, brand ambassador for Wowie Zowie Cosmetics, and model,” she counts each role on her fingers, then adds as an afterthought, “Jay is a wellness guru.”

You furrow your brow, “Wellness… guru?”

“Lifestyle coach,” Jay corrects, “Shepherding people to wellness through mindfulness, yoga, and nutrition.”

Dieter rolls his eyes. 

“Ohhh,” you nod, “Wow, you’re both, like, really popular on the internet?” 

“I have over 10 million followers,” Lilly advises, “So, yeah.”

“She didn’t know who I was, either, if that makes you feel better,” Dieter teases, casting a smirk your way. 

You wince and shrug, “Yeah, I, umm… live under a rock, I guess. Sorry.” 

“I like that,” Jay says, still eyeing you up like you’re a piece of fucking meat, “It’s refreshing. We should all be so lucky to be sheltered from the world in such a digital age.”

You raise your eyebrows, “I mean, I read the newspaper every day, so I’m very much aware of what’s going on in the world—“

“Right, but,” Jay starts.

“—Just, you know, stuff that matters.” 

A stunned sort of silence falls over the table for a moment, then laughter erupts from Dieter’s throat. You grin at him, and Jay must think you were kidding, because he joins in on the laughter. 

“You’re funny,” Lilly flashes this smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, then lets out an exasperated sigh and looks around, “Are we going to get some fucking service here or what?” 

Throughout the meal, you remain quiet. 

You don’t share your thoughts on the cuisine, or the wine, or the world-renowned chef. Your face stays painfully neutral as Lilly and Jay dominate the conversation, going on and on in a masturbatory fashion about their busy lives. 

More than anything, Dieter wants to tell them to fuck off. He wants to tell them that neither of you fucking care about subscribers or algorithms or sponsorships. He wants to comment on the restaurant’s heavy-handed use of bear décor and kiss you and tell you he loves you. 

But Darlene’s warning to be on his best behavior rings in his head. 

Despite this, the one bottle of wine you agreed upon is easily negotiated up to two. 

After the plat principal is cleared from the table, Lilly leans towards Dieter and asks “So, what’s new with you? We haven’t heard from you in, what,” she turns to Jay for confirmation, “Months?”

“Summer, I think?” Jay supplies. 

“Yeah,” Dieter nods and looks up at you, watching the way you wiggle in your chair and look down at your lap. He shrugs, “I’ve been keeping busy.”

“I see how it is,” Lilly pouts, glancing between his eyes and mouth, “Pookie gets a girlfriend and forgets all about us.”

Heat rises to his face. Every muscle in his body clenches. A hundred violent images flash through his head. The words shut the fuck up wrestle their way up his throat. 

“How did you all meet?” you ask, plastering on this polite smile. 

Lilly combs her long fingernails through her hair, “I met Dieter at some fundraising gala last year.”

Dieter’s leg starts bouncing. He leans his elbows into the table and presses his closed fist against his lips, watching you absorb this information. But he can’t get a read on you. 

“She introduced us,” Jay nods to Lilly, “Yeah, we were at this party, it was fucking wild—”

“Lua doesn’t wanna hear about that,” Dieter cuts in, dropping a hand to the table.

“It’s fine, Dee,” you chuckle, then take a big swallow from your wine glass. Unconvincing. 

Jay ignores Dieter’s protest, “It was one of those nights where everyone got very well acquainted with one another, if you know what I mean.” 

Your fake smile twitches. 

“Sounds… hot,” you offer. You empty the remaining pinot grigio in your glass down your throat. Dieter mirrors the action, taking the wine like a shot of hard liquor. 

Lilly sips her martini and lets out this wistful little sigh, “Soooo hot.” 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you announce as you push your chair back, then hurry away from the table before anyone else can respond. 

His blood boils. 

He glares between Jay and Lilly, well aware of the slew of insults percolating at the tip of his tongue, held back by his awareness of the public eye surrounding them.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Lilly says.

Dieter grits his teeth and warns, “Lillith—”

She waves him off and starts towards the bathroom. 

“Dieter,” Jay smirks, tilting his head, “You seem upset.” 

“What an astute observation,” Dieter mutters, crossing his arms over his chest, “Fucking incredible.“ 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Oh, fuck off.”

Jay raises his eyebrows, “So we’re touchy, ok. Is it because I told the story?” 

Dieter says nothing, just grinds his teeth together. 

“She doesn’t know about your more salacious hobbies, I take it?” 

“She sure as fuck does now,” Dieter grumbles, “Thank you for that.” 

Jay scoffs, “What, is this your first date or something?”

“No.”

Jay hums and takes a sip from his cocktail. 

Dieter shakes his head. Scrubs a hand over his face. 

Then he sits up and points at your empty seat, “If she’s going to hear about that shit from anyone, it should be me. Not some fucking ghouls just trying to get a rise out of her.” 

“Then why didn’t she hear it from you?” Jay questions, pausing a beat before he sighs, “You know, you gotta own your demons, man. It’s not my fault you didn’t tell her—”

“Yeah, I fucking know, ok?” Dieter snips. He leans his elbows against the table, looking towards the women’s bathroom, “What’s taking them so goddamn long?”

Behind the roar of the flushing toilet, you hear the bathroom door open, followed by the sharp click of stilettos against ceramic tile. You open the stall door to find Lilly leaned up against the marble slab countertop, pulling a tiny silver canister from her clutch. 

She looks up at the mirror and makes eye contact with you, “Hey, girl.” 

“Hi,” you smile politely and approach the sink. 

While you wash your hands, you watch Lilly through the mirror as she cuts two thin lines of coke right on the countertop. She fishes a short straw out of her purse and holds it out to you, “Do you want any?”

The ghost of cocaine’s allure sends your heart racing. It’s tempting, but you decline. She shrugs and leans over the counter. You look away and hear the two deep, short breaths through the straw. You swear you can feel the rush vicariously. 

She sits up straight and keeps one nostril plugged closed, taking a few sharp inhales, making sure she got it all to the brain. Her eyes flutter and throat hums with contentment, “Fuck, that’s good. You sure you don’t want any? 

“I’m fine,” you assure her, but don’t go to leave. You lean one hip against the sink and cross your arms, “Did you and Dieter, like… date?” 

Lilly releases a chuckle, a sniffle, then rubs a fingertip against the white marble countertop where her blow was cut, “Oh, no. We fucked, like, a lot. But no, we never dated per se. It was more of a fuck buddy arrangement. No biggie.” 

She scrubs her finger against her gums, then turns to the mirror to assess her appearance. 

“Was that while he was still with Anika?” 

“Well, yeah, that’s how it started. He asked if I could be their third,” she sniffles a few times as she examines her nostrils, “I know Kate Ridley was seeing them for a while, but that must’ve fallen through. Anyway, we all fucked around and it was fun. I brought Jay with a few times. Then Anika got turned off or something, she didn’t wanna get together anymore. Jealous I think, probably. He reached out to me for some one-on-one time.” 

The information hits you like a slap in the face. A kick in the gut. A fist closed around your windpipe, squeezing tighter and tighter.  

You can’t breathe. 

“And of course I said yes. It doesn’t hurt to cozy up to a guy like him, with his connections and all. Good career move. Plus, he’s so good in bed. Fucks like an animal,” Lilly giggles, “Not that I have to tell you, right?”

Your face heats and lips part to respond, but she continues without regard. 

“If you ever wanted a third, I’d be happy to step in. Jay, too, I’m sure of it. He was checking you out. You’re hot, you know, in a non-traditional kind of way. How long have the two of you been going out?”

She stares at you, waiting. Your throat croaks and you hear yourself say, “A few months, officially.”

“Oh, are you two, like, serious?” 

You bring your hand to your throat and nod, “Yeah.”

“Weird,” she murmurs, “After what happened with Anika, I thought he was done trying to pretend he was like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… monogamous, you know. He told me he’s a free spirit, doesn’t want to be tied down by one person ever again, all that. Then he disappears and re-emerges in a supposedly serious relationship, no offense, but it’s just confusing.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, frowning down at the floor, “Well, maybe he changed?” 

“The man is almost 50, I doubt that,” she scoffs, checking herself out in the mirror, then glances over at you, “Or, I mean, maybe? Hopefully?” 

You nod solemnly and swallow the knot in your throat, “Should we go back?” 

“Sure,” she shrugs, then leads the way out of the bathroom, into the dining room. 

When you meet Dieter’s eyes, his annoyed expression goes slack. You lay one hand flat, palm facing the ceiling, balling the other into a thumbs up on top, and raise both hands. The signal he taught you back in your apartment before this clusterfuck started: Help. 

Once seated, you keep your eyes low, trying to keep the steady hum in your chest from amplifying. Everything seems fuzzy and out-of-focus.

It’s too much. Too much noise. Too much information. Too much change at one time. You want off this fucking ride. You want to be home in bed, hidden under the covers where no one can reach you. 

“We should go,” Dieter announces from far away. 

Your body is cement. Limbs frozen. Lilly’s words play on repeat at a deafening volume: 

I thought he was done trying to pretend he was like that.

He’s a free spirit, doesn’t want to be tied down by one person ever again. 

“Oh, come on, Pookie–”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” he growls, then softer, in your direction, “Are you ready, love?”

You nod, then look from Lilly to Jay, your smile wavering, ��It was nice to meet you both.”

Dieter leads you past blurry tables of shiny, well-to-do patrons, his hand at the small of your back, burning through your dress. You can feel his gaze glued to your profile, trying to assess the damage. You can hear the words queued up behind his closed lips. 

A restaurant employee holds the door open for you. The cool night air kisses your heated, buzzing skin. 

“Hey, are you ok?” Dieter asks, his thumb working against your spine. 

You look down at the sidewalk and open your mouth to tell him, but it’s all a jumbled mess at the base of your tongue. Fire rises up your throat and tingles behind your eyes. You just shake your head and smother the sob in your chest. 

Tears bloom in your eyes and drop to the cement. You croak out, “I’m fine.”

He scoffs. 

The valet rolls up in Dieter’s cartoonish, pea soup-colored two-seater and tosses him the keys. 

Once inside, you clasp the seatbelt. Grip the leather upholstery. Stare out the side window as the landscape starts to move. 

“Louella” he coos, glancing between you and the road. 

The car clunks a little as he shifts gears. You grip the seat tighter. Watch the city lights fly by. 

He tries every once and a while to talk to you, but you can’t make yourself respond. 

You’ve been here before. 

You know what happens if you make a sound. If you vocalize the protest in your lungs.

What happens next is acceleration. 

Car horns. 

Impact. 

Those vacant black eyes. 

Darkness.

The second the car pulls into Dieter’s garage, you’re unfastening the seat belt. 

When he shifts to park, you yank on the door handle and scramble from the vehicle. 

The entryway door slams in Dieter’s face as you kick off the stupid high heels you never would have picked out for yourself. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” his voice booms through the house when he opens the door. 

By now, you’re halfway down the hall, making a beeline to his en suite bathroom, leaving a trail of jewelry behind you like breadcrumbs: the left earring, the right earring, bracelets, a necklace. All these brilliant ornaments Kelly loaned you to make you look more refined.

Dieter’s footsteps sound from a few paces behind as you turn into his bedroom. 

“Louella, come on. Why won’t you talk to me?”

The edge his words carry make your heart jump and your feet move faster. You hurry into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.  

He jiggles the handle, “What the fuck is this? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask. 

“That I slept with Lilly and Jay?“ he scoffs, “I didn’t think it mattered who I fucked before you—”

“That’s not what I mean. You know that’s not what I mean,” you press your forehead against the door and squeeze your eyes closed, “When I asked you what happened with you and Anika, you said the two of you grew apart. That—that she was resentful—like it was her fault–”

“Open the door so we can talk about this,” he says in a low voice, “Please, baby.”

You shake your head, whimpering, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The door handle jiggles again, “Come on, Lua, open the door.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, just unlock it—”

“Answer me.”

“GodDAMNIT–” 

A hard thud shakes the doorframe. 

You jump back and yelp. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” he seethes, “Lock yourself in my fucking bathroom instead of talking to me. You realize how fucking stupid that is, right?” 

He hits the door again. You scramble away from it, watching the doorknob rattle. 

“Stop it, Dieter,” you cry out, backing yourself up to the wall, “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you?” he scoffs, his words still steeped in red, “Do you really think I would fucking hurt you?”

You slide down the wall and collapse into a pile, covering your head. All you can hear are your own shattered breaths. 

A few quiet moments go by. 

When his voice comes again, it’s a plea. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You look up at the door and sniffle, wiping your eyes. 

“I—I wanted to tell you. I mean, I was going to tell you. I swear to god. It’s just,” there’s a soft thump against the door, and you can picture him on the other side, forehead pressed up against it, “Do you know how hard it is to admit that you’re a piece of shit?”

You don’t say anything, just watch his still shadow beneath the door. 

“Do you know how hard it is for me to willingly show you that? I mean, fuck. How–how are you supposed to trust me now?” 

What follows is silence. Broken up by occasional sniffles and wet, labored breaths. Your chest aches.

Slowly, you rise to your feet and pad across the cool tile floor. 

When you reach the door, you don’t say anything, just press your palm against the barrier where you think his heart is. And you swear, if you concentrate hard enough, you can feel its steady rhythm.

“How are you supposed to love me now?” he whispers, “You won’t even look at me, Louella.”

Your eyelids clamp shut and you take a deep breath. Then you step back and turn the doorknob, pulling the door open. 

And there he is. 

Dieter Bravo. The man you love. 

His eyes all puffed-up and red-rimmed, cheeks streaked with tears. Every handsome feature laced with remorse. 

You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his suit jacket. He envelops you in a warm embrace and squeezes you tight. 

“I’m–I’m sorry for yelling,” he tells you in a hoarse whisper, petting your hair, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I lost it.”

You swallow hard and rub his back, a silent kind of reassurance. 

“I would never hurt you, Lua,” his voice cracks, “I’m not him. I’m not him.”

Instantly, tears flood your eyes. 

“I know, love,” you croak out, pulling him closer, “I know.”

Dieter kisses the crown of your head with reverence. Then your forehead. He tilts your chin to face him dead on, grazing his nose against yours, “Wanna talk about this more in the bath?”

You nod and weave your fingers through the curls at the back of his head. His lips meet yours, lingering for a tender moment before he pulls back and makes his way over to the soaking tub. 

While you wash the makeup off your face, he fiddles with the water temperature and crumbles a magenta bubble bar in the stream. The sweet scent of blackcurrant fills the air. You glance up in the mirror and see him shucking off his suit jacket, eyes trailing down your spine. His breath heats the nape of your neck when he draws close and unzips your dress, his movements gentle and slow as he slides it off your shoulders. 

The dress falls at your feet. You turn to face him, murmuring, “Look up.”

He does, and you set to work on his shirt buttons. When you’re halfway down his chest, he asks, “Will you tell me what she said?”

“She, um,” you pause to bite down on your bottom lip, then sigh, “She told me you and Anika would fuck around with her and sometimes Jay. Then, you know, just her.”

He hums in acknowledgment. 

You reach the end of his button-down, then spread the shirt apart. As he takes over tugging it off, you ask, “Was that something that you wanted, or…?”

“We both wanted to try it,” he shrugs. Your hands move to his belt buckle and you unfasten it. He continues, “Thought it would reignite that passion. It was fucking stupid because it just made us both jealous.”

He pauses to kick off his slacks, then ushers you face the mirror again. You watch him unclasp your bra and toss it aside, glancing up when you recount, “She said you didn’t want to be tied down by one person ever again.“

He nods, diverting his gaze, “Yeah. Well, that’s true. I didn’t,” then his eyes return to yours, “But then you came along. Fucked up all my big plans to be lonely and miserable forever.” 

You can’t help but grin. 

He casts a backwards glance at the tub, “I think it’s ready.” 

Dieter gets in first, groaning as he lowers himself into the bubbles. You sit on the opposite side and tip your face to the ceiling, stretching your legs across him, then sink down to your shoulders. 

The water burns your skin a little, but you like it. It feels real. 

“Hey,” Dieter rumbles. 

You swivel your head down to look at him, but can only see bubbles.

“Holy shit,” you giggle, then sit up and meet his eyes, “What?”

“Come here, doll,” he reaches out to you.

You slide your feet under the water and crawl over to him, closing your eyes as you lay your cheek on his shoulder and relax against his body. He wraps his arms around your waist, snuggling you like you’re his favorite teddy bear. 

One of your hands occupies itself by absentmindedly tracing the edges of his jaw. The shell of his ear. That one silver hoop earring he refuses to part with. Your nails work into his hairline and play with his damp curls. 

“Were there others?” you ask him. 

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, then he admits, “Yeah. A few. Just hookups, really. Lilly was the most consistent, and that was still, you know…”

“No strings attached?” you smirk. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why did you do it?” 

Your spine arches as he draws a big breath in, then releases it, “All the reasons I said it didn’t work. That was true, you know. I was gone a lot. Filming, meetings, press stuff. A few days here, a week there. There was one stretch where I was gone for two months. I’m not drowning in work or anything, but it adds up. I don’t think she realized that being with me meant being away from me that often. And. Yeah. 

“At first, it upset me a lot. I thought she would be supportive and loving. Compassionate, you know. But she turned so cold when she was mad. Completely ignored me. Acted like I didn’t exist. Even when I begged for her reassurance, for her to show me she still cared and noticed me, but she wouldn’t react. I felt like a ghost. It-it kind of reminded me—”

He pauses here for a moment, holding his breath, then releases a soft, sad chuckle. His Adam’s apple bobs. When he starts again, his voice is watery. 

“It reminded me of what it was like for me growing up. If I didn’t please my dad, he would ignore me completely. I would act out, be loud, push him until he exploded. Because then… then at least I knew he could see me. It was something, you know?”

You blindly cup his cheek and graze your thumb against his beard to let him know you’re listening. He nuzzles into the touch, a small rumble sounding from his throat. 

“Maybe I was acting out with Annie? Or maybe just trying to… fill that emptiness, loneliness. Or numb out. Forget that my wife didn’t love me anymore. I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter. I started using again. Heroin, oxy, bars, morphine, adderall, booze. Whatever I could get my hands on, really. But blow has always been my favorite. It makes me feel…”

“Powerful?”

“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah. Powerful. And with other people I actually felt… desired. Plus, they were both a rush. I felt alive. When I was home I was hollow. I stopped groveling for her affection when I started fucking around. Neither of us wanted to work on the hard things. The whole fucking thing, you know, it metastasized. And—and our relationship died.” 

“Fuck,” you grimace. 

Dieter cranes his neck to look at you, “Too bleak?”

“No, it’s not that,” you tell him, “It’s just… familiar.”

Adrenaline spikes your bloodstream. Your mouth opens to say more, then you close it and hold your breath. 

He rests his cheek on your head. Squeezes you a little tighter. Like he’s prodding you so say more. 

“Do I make you happy?” you ask him. 

“Do you make me happy?” he repeats, disbelief raising his voice an octave. 

You nod.

“I told you earlier,” he kisses your hairline, “You make me so happy, Louella.” 

“But will you feel the same tomorrow?” 

“Obviously,” he lets out a little snort of laughter like he thinks you’re kidding. Silence settles. His body seems to tense and he adds, “Really, love, I mean it.”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip. Brows lace together. Then you ask, “What about a month from now?”

“Don’t do that, come on—”

“A year from now? Or—or longer, even—”

“Lua,” he huffs, then pulls you up to face him. His eyes are soft and pleading. He brushes his knuckles against your cheek, “Look, we won’t be happy every second of every day. You know why?”

A sharp pain radiates across your chest. You wince and shake your head. 

He tilts your chin up to meet his eyes and says, “Because it’s fucking impossible. If we do this thing right, which I fully intend to, sometimes we’re going to be scared, and frustrated, and–and we might want to take an easy way out. But I’m telling you that I will not do that. Because I love you.” 

You search his face and only find sincerity. Your stomach flips in a freefall so violent it makes you gasp, “Fuck, I love you.”

He smirks, gaze flicking between your eyes and lips, “And I’m going to love you tomorrow.” 

Your heart skips. Heat creeps up your neck. 

He cups your cheeks and locks his eyes onto yours, “And the next day, and ten years from now, and all the way until my next fucking life, ok?” 

“Ok,” you nod. Tension liquifies and drains from your body. The corners of your mouth upturn and you ask, “What then?” 

“What then?” he snorts, shaking his head with amusement, “What do you think? Hmm?”

You grin and shrug, pressing the tip of your tongue to your front teeth. 

His eyes drop to your mouth and he pulls you in for a kiss. When you part, he murmurs, “I’ll fucking find you in the next life and fall in love with you all over again.”

The words electrify you. You hook your hands behind his head and press your forehead against his, “Promise?” 

“Cross my heart,” he murmurs, and kisses you again.

#psychomanteum #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo angst #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble fic

[beanghostprincess]

I have a rant regarding Usopp in the live action, one thing I noticed (and infuriated me) is the many many new fans that inmediatly "clocked" Usopp as the Straight Character™ and are therefore like "well I don't care about straight characters, so im going to ignore him, teehee" and AHHHH FIRST OF ALL IF YOU KNEW THE BISEXUAL VIBES THIS MAN EXUDES, and I don't even want to blame the Kaya kiss because it was cute and they're lovely together 😭 (tho I also see the pattern of which Character the Fandom decides are Straight™ and therefore ignored...)

But I also feel like maybe the Live Action didnt really give Usopp enough moments to shine, here's hoping for more (San)Usopp moments in the second season, they really underuse him in the first one

Okay, first of all, if you think Usopp is straight you're definitely reading his character wrong because look at him. Just look at him.

Yeah, no. This guy doesn't care about gender in the slightest.

And people assuming a guy is straight because he,,, Has a girlfriend,,, Wow,,, A bisexual man who kisses a woman,,, Who would've thought that bisexual people could fall in love with anyone,,, As if that wasn't the literal fucking definition of bisexual. And you could also headcanon him as gay or any other sexuality! Why does he have to be the straight character for having a girlfriend in canon? You can do whatever the fuck you want with it. Fuck canon. People make my blood boil. Also, the whole "I don't care about straight characters" thing is something SO common and it makes me so angry because-- First of all, who said he's straight? He's a fictional character, do whatever the fuck you want with him. And second, it's alright to like specifically queer characters because they give you comfort and representation, but instantly ignoring a character just because they are not queer? Uh. Like, I understand, but it gives me the ick. It's just weird. Off-putting. Because there's a thin line between focusing on the characters you think are queer for comfort and reducing them only to their sexuality and ignoring everything that matters in the show. But you know? I don't think that's exactly the issue here and we both know what it is. Like. Between you and me, anon, we both know.

I am white by the way and I'm not used to analyzing black characters in terms of how the fandom views them and stuff, but isn't it quite curious how Usopp is always the ignored character from the East Blue Crew, and he's often used as a comedy relief in OPLA? "He has a girlfriend and he's straight so we don't care abou-" Sanji has flirted with Nami. Visibly. In front of your fucking screen. And you don't say that about him. Or any other character, really. That's just an excuse and we know and everyone knows and you don't have to analyze shit to know this because it's obvious. And if somebody comes at me saying "oh! But it's just because his personality is softer and he's a coward and most people hate that in shonens so he's a boring character" I am going to fucking combust because everyone knows that if Usopp were white EVERYBODY would be calling him a baby boy and a soft boy and a cutie pie and he'd be one of the favorites (cofcof Koby cofcof) (<- I love him too btw but you know what I mean).

That being said, OPLA doesn't even give Usopp enough screen time to be a character because his personality there is used to crack a few jokes and have THE romance in the show. That's it. He's the comedy relief character and the one who gets the girl because Netflix would cancel the show first before not doing any romance. God forbid people read between the lines, oh my God (<- I love Usokaya and everyone knows btw I am not complaining I cried when they kissed. I'm just saying that that's quite literally all he does. But Usokaya my beloved).

His OWN arc in OPLA is stolen by the screentime used for the Marines and Luffy is the one doing the work. They don't let Usopp follow through with what he actually does in the manga and it's very frustrating not being able to see him shine IN HIS OWN ARC. They barely give him any important scenes in comparison to the other characters. It's incredibly infuriating. See? I am now infuriated.

And now a lot of people watching OPLA have said they prefer OPLA Usopp rather than Manga!Anime!Usopp or that the live-action has made them like him better. I don't know what bothers me the most, really. People literally don't care about the characters, they just want them if they're hot. Which, by the way, it's insulting because if you don't find Manga!Anime!Usopp hot ?????? Please, go to the ophthalmologist because I think you need glasses.

I really hope we get more Usopp moments (hehe and Sanuso moments. My beloveds. They got their four cute short scenes in OPLA and I was the happiest person alive) next season because otherwise, I am going to fucking lose it.

#if somebody calls usopp ugly i will have to become violent and i am a very chill peaceful lovely person #like seriously i hate conflict i think the only thing that makes me this angry is usopp haters #i am so nice for not throwing rocks at usopp haters i should get rewarded for my self-control #one piece #usopp #opla #one piece live action

[vaguely-concerned]

the previews of nona the ninth have started a full on brainworm rave within my cranium by just like... laser focusing in on my mercymorn & augustine feels. and since I have several of their main scenes bookmarked on my audio book app (I am normal), I started going over some of them again and like... wow they’re fucking me up from their very first scene together.   

what really stood out to me this time is that augustine goes up to hold the eulogy for cytherea specifically to lessen john’s pain; in response to god’s grief augustine takes on the task/responsibility of easing it as he doesn’t for either mercy’s or his own. while mercy talks he mostly just listens, respectfully, even (for the first and last time don’t worry lol). I think he probably did care about cytherea in herself too, as much as his motheaten hollowed-out heart allows for at this point (he seems to be quite upset by someone messing around with her body, even aside from thinking it’s mercy doing it), but when you read how the scene goes down augustine only takes an active part in response to john’s distress. he rests his hand on john’s shoulder in comfort and he gets up ‘like it hurts’ to say the words for cytherea. this pattern they apparently set up from the very beginning where mercy confronts john with the harsh truths he doesn’t want to acknowledge -- “There they go, John“, “She said, ‘We had the choice to stop’” -- and augustine smoothes things over in the wake of it, removes discomforts; still does the board meetings he hates for him, as it were.

like. holy shit. imagine having eldest daughter trauma (gender neutral) with god himself for ten thousand years. “Come, swear your loyalty, my son—my brother—beloved—Lyctor—saint.” no boundaries buddy you can only be something in relation to me!!! ‘he could have gone anywhere, but he stuck with me’. what a mess! what an absolute mess, especially knowing it’s been like that right from the beginning. he gave john (and john’s dreams -- his empire) everything: his life, his time, his loyalty, his brother, and john took it. john took it all, including mercy at the end, like she was just another... thing no one would miss. what a brilliant dark mirror of what gideon thinks she wants harrow to do to her but which a) harrow has the soul and sense not to do or want and b) would doom them both if it actually happened. the subtexual/implicit mirrors of the process of lyctorhood just aaaaallll over this empire john has built around him, even & especially with those closest to him. NO normal vibes on this haunted fucking space station I’m going to create an interpersonal dynamic that is so incredibly toxic and insidious it takes you thousands of years to figure out something’s very very off and by then it’s waaaaay too late, we’ve all got rivers of blood on our hands by now and no clean water left anywhere 

(also “Ten thousand years, and I never heard her say an unkind word, except when it was very funny. She loved us unguardedly, all of us, which showed both her patience and her enormous capacity.”

the ‘my bones will rest easy next to your bones’ speech deservedly gets a lot of recognition but I’m always struck by the dry mundane loveliness of that description, the resigned rotted fondness. and he immediately undercuts it by kind of dunking on loveday too which is soooo... *tirls hair around my finger* ahaha nooo stop you’re such a shitty human being you’ll make me completely obsessed with you ;) )

augustine will be like... *turns up to not be the worst person in the room only because john and mercy are also in said room and they’ve got a pretty level playing field going now after all these years, has a moment where after a whole book of a sort of glib mean-spirited ennui he suddenly says something so hauntingly beautiful and profound you get dizzy, goes back to being the worst person in the room again like nothing ever happened* and then you just have to live with ‘Bury me next to you in that unmarked grave, Joy’ forevermore. 

augustine and mercy praying only for their own cessation at the end and not even getting that. their best friend and dad and spouse and boss and king and god... is god. and they couldn’t even get that unmarked grave together. I just. hello darkness my old friend etc.

tl;dr: someone on the internet had to be an augustine stan by sheer law of averages and I am devastated again and again to find that it is me. I am that person.

#the locked tomb #the locked tomb spoilers #nona the ninth spoilers #harrow the ninth #augustine the first #mercymorn the first #john gaius #please understand that I am unhinged about this #seeing the john prologue and being like 'hm. have I misjudged him?' #and then looking alllllllll around him for how he affects those he 'loves' and going 'no. no probably not' lmao #I cannot explain to you the strange surge of joy I got just seeing mercy's dialogue in the preview. you could feel the... herness of it all #just from that #god why did I have to get attached to the horrible old war criminals there's not going to be anything good for anyone here fhksjdas

[noxnthea]

I WANT TO HEAR ABOUT SO MANY OF THESE.

um, more rancher/werewolf? is that what I think it is?

"racoon" is... very intriguing?!

BUT. you know I want to hear about Point/Counterpoint!!!

THANK YOU LOU I LOVE YOU!

MORE RANCHER/WEREWOLF! (omg wow my energy is off the charts tonight) Sequel to Giddup Partner, It's Time to Hide Ourselves a Werewolf. Since that fic is centered on a single moment of discovery, the sequel starts to delve into what it's like for Clint to have a werewolf on his ranch, one who happens to also be the Winter Soldier. It's fun and very, very cracky.

RACCOON oh my god so i actually read this super serious and beautifully written JayDick fic where Jason Todd is turned into a raccoon and was like: okay. But what if it was Bucky instead? Because, you know, the whole winter soldier makeup thing? So this fic features bed-stuy Avenger Clint and a racoonified winter soldier. And as cracky as it sounds, the premise allows for a lot of think-aloud verbal introspection, so I would dive into Clint's depressive, self-isolating tendencies and insecurities.

POINT/COUNTERPOINT!! See, Lou, I titled this wip in jan of 2021, long before we ever talked about amtsoyf; you and I were fated to be friends. UGH this is my like...white whale? I think of it every time I hear any Streetlight Manifesto song, I stare at my 15k of brainstorming and wip approx once a week. This is a Jason/Clint fic that features baby mercenary!Clint in gotham, hunting down the traces of his old Carson's crew, and a recently Red Hood-ified Jason, on his typical Joker revenge plot. There is identity porn! violence! collaboration! competence! emotions! UGH I love it so much.

snip:

Seriously, he was counting on being in Gotham for at least a month before running into one of the city’s notorious vigilantes. Maybe he should’ve taken those warnings from the guys at Carson’s a little more seriously, but as performers and conmen, he’d learned long ago to take everything they said as an exaggeration.

Well, he thought they had been exaggerating about leaving him for dead, and he had been wrong then, too. 

The Red Hood stalks to the edge of his shipping container, hands resting on the butts of his guns. His gaze swings down over the massacre site, clocking each of the bodies, and then he jumps into action, leaping off the container to the ground in a move that looks entirely too delicate for a man his size. 

He strides across the bay, unobservant, or perhaps just uncaring, of the way his heavy boots track through slick blood. He crouches low next to the leader of the prospective sellers, rifling through his coat pocket to pull out a small container. He pockets it, then begins to walk around the rest of the site, systematically checking each of the mens’ guns for ammo, which, when found, he empties into a bag that he takes off from under the rifle strapped across his back. 

Clint watches as he does a check of each of the cars on the scene. 

Red Hood is a unique vigilante, and not that Clint wants to get involved with any of them yet, but he’s pretty sure that Red Hood is the kind of vigilante you need to warm up to. Give Clint a Robin or a Batgirl for his first run in —  they’re the training wheels of vigilantes for new mercs like him. They’ve got clear cut morals and an obvious pattern for mercy. 

Interacting with Red Hood is more like jumping right into the deep end, trying to do a trick unicycle routine through a flaming hoop before you’ve even learned how to ride a bicycle. 

these wip titles are from this ask game!!

#ask game!! #winterhawk #jason todd/clint barton #jason todd #GOD I AM SO EMOTIONAL THINKING ABOUT POINT COUNTER POINT WHY DO I LOVE IT SO MUCH #I JUST WANT IT TO EXIST ALREADY PLEASE

[talk-it-out-outsiders-smp]

Time has passed so now, I share because wow I have thoughts! I'll make another post for au things after cause I've been eagerly awaiting the final to see how you get out of the Maze.

So first off the fact that all of this was just a show is so heartbreaking because it's unsatisfing for the characters. As an audience it is shocking and heart breaking and so so good but, for the characters there's no satisfying end. They got out and in the end its hollow because they expected them to get out! The followed a path, puppets on a string to an ending written out for them and their lives were entertainment, a joke. Even in their greatest victory they're still laughing stocks to all the normal people, Outsiders indeed how can they ever live normal lives now knowing that they're most personal intimate moments both alone and with others were viewed by hundreds if not more? Was it viewed by a select few? Or does everyone in the world know, could they go anywhere and not be recognized?

Also I hope Krow bit at least one person in anger like, it just had it' life projected in front of everyone! Talking about Krow, wow, just when you think its life can't get any more messed up.

Soup! I'll miss you forever, you deserved to make it! Even if who you were was bad who you had become deserved to see the world.

We were robbed of Bekyamons reaction to walking out on that stage in front of that audience. How very bitter sweet it would have been. (Also everyone yelling for Bek because she had that sword at the start was so funny, like a bunch of little kids yelling for mom

Kyle committing crimes to protect Apo is a pattern I fully respect, the soft boy needs protection. He was right there, Acho was still covered in his blood when he got pushed on the stage. If they had the time to wrap his wounds would he have survived? They'll never know because they weren't given the chance to even try to help him.

MAGIC! Your dad sucks and I hope you murder him for what he put you through. She would never, never take over this show. Not after what she's seen and had to do. Will she ever get to see the others again, Gracie who must have been heart broken as she was dragged away from the rest of them?

SPIDEY OH MY GOD I ALMOST FORGOT SPIDEY, I went back to watch just her POV and the ending screaming out her anger, grieving her friends who all died for people's entertainment, realizing that she can't do anything about what happened, amazing. She just such a sad character and her only chance at happiness comes from accepting she's lost the ones she cared about for nothing and having to let it go.

Ah I just have so many questions about what happens now? Are they free to fo after a few interviews? Will Magic ever be free? Why are people just so ok with everything that happened? I want all the details about this world (Is there any chance those people aren't dead? Too hopeful probably but... wouldn't it be nice?)

#outsiders smp #nottalkitoutau #krowfang #graecie #magicsings #bekyamon #soupforeloise #kyleeff #acho #it was so good guys #they've crafted such an iteresting world #outsidersblr

[simmonsized]

🌟

(for the fanfic writer’s director cut meme)

alright so i made a joke post about this already, so i may as well go full in

I'm going to talk about Chapter 31 [S] Lazarus. Rise up. Or try to. It's kind of long, they all get long after I realized no one cared if I posted my whole heart one chunk at a time. So i'll do my best to cover some of the stuff I've been thinking of!

To start, obviously this one has an honest to god [S] file, which. i mean. C'mon, how could I not.

The rest is going under a cut lol.

Okay first thing about 31 you have to know is, it is actually one of the oldest chapters of RnG! back when I thought this fic was going to be 45k at most and didn't think I'd ever post it anywhere. Well, the first half. All the way up to him kicking down the door and hugging Dirk, that part was kind of always built in. Everything else had to kind of shuffle and arrange to fit what had become the narrative at that point, but I'm still pretty happy that was like, originally kind of weirdly the fifth chapter I ever wrote.

(also, funnily enough, chapter 30 was the first thing I ever wrote for rng, though it was going to be part of a very different au that centered around dave leaving and dirk being left holding the bag as it were, and it was just an exploration of him and bro as a pair of dirks. if that tells you anything about me lol.)

Also, as you may remember, if you were here from the Before Times, the run and go used to be rated T. lol i know, i think so too. "how did you get away with all that blood and vomit, ao3 user deserts" and the thing about that is, i didn't really think about it until freak mcnasty introduced himself.

i've said this before i think but as for "resurrection's one helluva drug" that sure is. a thing. i mention. i really patterned out his chapter to be like something between being an extended anxiety attack and that feeling you get when you've had too much caffeine or y'know, maybe something a bit stronger, where everything is too much too shiny, too fast, and basically what i was aiming for was just. "Manic," in a word.

i will not be fielding any questions about-- lets call him David. I hate D as a nickname it pains me every time i have to write it. I'm calling him David. forgive me. I will not be fielding any questions about David's freudian slips. He is an adult, first of all, and I have already spent enough time waving my hand at canon for you to know better than to ask. Not that you are asking, I am just cutting you off at the pass.

The same way I consider Chapter 6 to be a Blood and Vomit Trial by Fire, I consider Ch 31 to be a Trial of Dave's Most Embarrassingly Mortifying Freudian Slips, and i worry perhaps my own indifference and even delight in the cringe factor is contributing to the way people sometimes tell me they have to look away. I'm actually okay with that. Yes, he IS the reason I changed the Rating to M. Literally. lol!

I'm not gonna talk about Dirk and David here, because I think he's trying his best, and will continue, in his own way, to try his best -- though he tends to be quite selfish, as someone who has never had children and thus has never had to dedicate his life to something outside himself or his career, or the perceived "fight for humanity." It's kind of hard to explain what parenthood does to the way you think. but David doesn't have that. In a weird way, he desperately wants it, the same way -- wow i really said i wasn't gonna talk about it and then talked about it huh anyway -- the same way that Dirk wants to be his kid, but doesn't know how to be ANYONE'S kid, because he's always been alone.

What I wanted to talk about was the fact that Alpha Dave, David, and Bro, Dirk (Dietrich, if we're being funny) have the most fucked up, hilarious relationship in the world to me.

To start, there is absolutely this initial moment where they are both like "Oh this person is a threat," before this quickly dissolves into this kind of weird, double-dad reacharound (insert mobius double reacharound virus joke).

David perceives Bro to be a "Dirk" and also, in a way a "kid" because from his perspective, he is (at least) 30 years older than Bro, and clearly Something is going on here, which is concerning. His alarm bells are ringing, he just does not know what to do about the fact they are coming from inside the house.

From Bro's perspective, this is just Another Dave. He is not Bro's Dave, and obviously, he is an older Dave, who needs him even less than he already perceives both Daves to need him, but who is, somehow, ten times more annoying, and also, he is So Fucking Uncomfortable. Who wouldn't be, when you're seeing what your kid will look like, when he's your age? Possibly older? Bro never thought he'd live that long. He's probably a little freaked out, understandably.

Also yes, Alpha Dave almost walked off the edge of the roof, and yes, this is the first time Bro realizes "oh I think this guy would kill me maybe, if I caught him unaware enough" and thus the beginning of their fucked up little game of chicken. it is hard to know exactly what bro wants from that. i think it's a bit interpretive.

Just some more little things:

Because I saw someone ask, but American Spirits are like, The Old Hipster Cigarette, so the joke is of course, that Bro is a giant douchebag completely and totally on purpose. he doesn't lIKE them it's part of the joke. etc. Irony and forms of sincerity, stupid bullshit homestuck jokes, etc. If Bro was really dedicated, he'd drink Pabst Blue Ribbon, but he's a Lone Star loyalist. That's a joke transferred from my rvb days, but i don't feel the urge to explain it.

Bro's guilty pleasure is the Hallmark channel. All the movies are terrible but he doesn't have to pay attention and it's background noise, something that fills the empty space where uh. yeah anyway not quiet.

Dave's ringtone for Jade English is Taylor Swift's "You Belong With Me". He could never bear to delete her number from his phone, not even after she died. He put it into each new model he got from then on, until the day he died.

the real reason that the guardians have the same handles as the kids until like, the "later" times is because it's too exhausting to come up with fake handles. that's it that's the secret. sorry. one day i'll come up with real handles for them.

Dave, as we find out later, has not been in the apartment since he left it ready for Dirk, some years after he was supposed to have come down to earth. Talk about devastating.

Anyway that is all I can think of to talk about!

#this is??????????? long lol #long post yes it's long yes it's homestuck yes it's fanfic god sorry #the run and go fic #i'm so sorry anyway uhhhh #the star asks make me panic

[nachitoesmuybonito]

10 films I love

Tagged by @chocopinda <3

I'm gonna do my best! Because, here's a secret: I watch a lot of stuff, but half the time it ends up being background noise because my attention span is often shit when watching things alone; with some exceptions, of course. Blame that gamer brain!

The Ritual (2017) I’ve watched this several times on my own and once or twice with friends. I really, really like it! It’s a short horror film that does something I really enjoy: saves the creature for the very end. So, throughout the film you get a lot of strange and creepy moments, but you’re kept on edge wondering exactly what the cause is. So good. Definitely recommend it.

The Green Mile (1999) I read the book for this and, while often movies don’t live up to the book, this was still an amazing film adaptation. It focuses on a group of prison guards and the day to day life of working on death row, though the heart of the tale truly revolves around a new prisoner with a very special, and quite mysterious gift. I don’t want to spoil anything, but it’s a really powerful story

In The Tall Grass (2019) It’s strange, it’s a little creepy and it can be really confusing on the first watch. I’ve watched it twice so far and I’ve picked up on things I missed from the first viewing. It’s another of those movies that really keeps you guessing all throughout, and the twists along the way alone make for an interesting experience!

Dreamcatcher (2003) You might be seeing a bit of a pattern, huh? I like Stephen King stuff, haha. In this case, the book was definitely better (just my opinion), but I still enjoyed the movie! With this one you get some humor (and dark humor), horror, body horror and aliens. I’m a fan of the weird, and if you are too it might be one worth checking out.

It (2017) I hate clowns and this right here is one of the biggest reasons why. I remember seeing the original, so of course I jumped on this as soon as it came out and, wow. You see the killer clown in this version a whole lot more. This will give you a full dose of horror, and a whole lot of blood, but following the lives of the teenagers deemed outcasts is some pretty powerful stuff, too.

It Chapter 2 (2019) Another go around with the killer clown and the outcasts, except now the outcasts are all grown up. It’s kind of more of the same, horror and blood, and to me also highlights that things that terrified you as a kid sometimes remain with you as an adult.

The Mist (2007) Okay, this one had a short story, movie and a series (that only got one season, ugh). We’re obviously focusing on the movie for this. If you like weird creatures and government experiments gone wrong, give it a look! You get glimpses of the creatures or parts of them throughout the movie, but a lot of it is left to the imagination and I always find that fun. I will say, the story has a better ending; the movie ending killed me, so fair warning.

Dragonheart (1996) Going back a ways now! This is one of those films that I’ve adored for years. I’ve always liked dragons and knights and all that kind of stuff, so it was right up my alley. You get a pretty good mix of fun moments and serious moments, and a good adventure to follow. Just prepare yourself for a dose of sadness at the end; still powerful, and still gets me to this day.

Fractured (2019) This one popped up as a Netflix suggestion and the premise seemed good: a man brings his wife and daughter to the ER, but they seemingly disappear, and you’re left to follow him on his search as he believes the hospital is hiding something. Pretty early in I had a feeling I knew what was going on, but even when expecting the twist it was a good watch that kept me gripped!

The Labyrinth (1986) I don’t even know what to say here, haha. It’s just one of those movies I’ve always enjoyed, though I haven’t watched it in years. I mean, come on, it’s got David Bowie! And it’s really kind of weird, so I guess that’s just more reason I enjoy it.

And, there you go. There are others, for sure (@chocopinda hit on a few of my favorites with Donnie Darko and Fargo <3) but the list called for ten, so here we are. I also have no idea who to tag so, uh: @8choloko, @xtakeitisisx, @michaelmandog, @ignaciosalamanca

#i hate formatting #forgive me

[brainlicking]

❤ Blood & Guts❤

Fun fact I listened to Angelspit music the entire time I worked on this.

(open in new tab to get all those juicy details)

#Remus Sanders #ts Remus #Sanders Sides #gore #guro #blood #guts #intestines #tentacles #for the record I DID try and keep his green colours in at first #but it didn't look NEARLY as good as simple greyscale #also this is my first time doing blood patterns like that and WOW does it look better than I thought it would #having a screen tablet has once again saved my life #Fanart

[zackcrazyvalentine]

Saw requests were open so here I am! 😊

I’d love to request headcannons of the Demon Brothers + Undatables (If you can, if not you can just do the Brothers) from Obey Me reacting to an MC that has Galaxy eyes. Their eyes are a glossy purple-blue, they have star-like pupils that changes patterns everytime they blink, and rather than blush red; They blush purple and get mini constellations across their face and ears. If they cry, their tears are hella sparkly too! MC has baby pictures/family photos to prove their eyes are natural and run in the family.

YOOOO!! As someone who has zodiac sign related OCs, and that loves the stars, this is such a wonderful prompt~❤️

Since this involves many characters, it’ll be under the cut and slightly shorter per character than previous hcs, but hopefully still enjoyable

HEADS UP! This includes spoilers for lessons ~14-15 (and has yandere themes in someone's belphie's part)

Here you go, luv!

-- -- --

OVERVIEW

Alright, so it’s a little obvious all the character are surprised with the looks of this human

Some are easier to convince it’s natural, while others think it’s a product of permanent magic/demon contracts

Needless to say, all of them get lost in MC’s eyes

All of them try to make them blush or cry, in their own special ways, to see their full beauty

💙👿 Lucifer 🖋️

“Apologies if my stare unsettles you.” He took their hand and placed a kiss upon their knuckles, “Your eyes are simply magnificent. I find myself unable to look away.”

The first thing that crosses Luci’s mind when he meets them is  “Which demon did they sign a contract with to look like that?”

I think this one will try to fight back the urge to stare at them and be mesmerized by their beauty

Eventually, he just gives up and lets his eyes wander to their face and examine the sparkling stars

Whether he does it on purpose or not, Lucifer makes MC blush that lovely shade of wine purple. Always a gift to see the constellations that show up in their dark flush

Likes to stroke their face, especially run his thumb along their cheek and try to feel the shining lights on their skin

Will try to point out the constellations and stars he recognizes

💛😈 Mammon 💰💸

“Whu-? Huh?! No, no! Absolutely not! I-I wasn’t looking at ya because of the shining stars in your eyes… but, uh… Could ya maybe look into my eyes for a moment? Please?”

Oh god… when Mammon meets them, one and only one thought crosses his mind: If human limbs were already sought after in the Devildom market… How much money would this LIVE human with stars in their eyes cost?

(yup, let’s face it, folks… Mammon may be one of the very first sweethearts we see in game, but he’s still a demon, one very greedy demon)

Just let him see their tears. Boy, may any omnipotent force help them because he WILL try to make them cry just to see how much demons, witches and wizards pay for their sparkly tears

But then~ Whatever was left of his tender angel heart crumbled when he succeeded the first time. Never did it again and never collected any tears to sell

Mammon likes to explore their skin for more constellations. Arms, hands, shoulders, legs, feet, neck, anything they allow to touch!

What he loves most? Making them cry out of laughter and seeing little glittering drops roll down their cheeks, which he then proceeds to wipe away

Always gets lost in their eyes, but denies he was staring

🧡👿 Leviathan 🎮

“You’re just like an anime character! Wait, could it be that.. the author was inspired by your ancestor?!”

BOY OH BOY LEVI’S ELATED

Seriously, once his contract’s done and he accepts them into his room, he won’t ever stop examining their cheeks and eyes (with respect, of course, he knows how weird and uncomfortable it is to be observed so intently) 

You know the first thing he did was introduce them to his anime characters that have features similar to them

GUESS WHAT??? HE ADORES WHEN THEY LIGHT UP HIS ROOM WITH THEIR CONSTELLATIONS!

Makes sure to watch super cheesy lovely shoujo, romantic, and cute anime/movies just so he can see how the blush darkens their cheeks and ears

Levi already zoned out when watching Henry’s big aquarium, he 100% does so too when watching the patterns in their eyes shift with each blink

The otaku musters all his courage, when feeling brave enough, to place a kiss on their cheeks bc they’re just too adorable (both proceed to flush deep red/purple)

💚 Satan 👿📖

“Wonderful… Thank you for showing me the night sky. It’s even more breathtaking when through your eyes.”

Alright, there are pictures that prove it’s all natural… but, where are the written records of space-filled humans? He gets to researching (if he finds proof or not, I leave it up to you)

Regardless, they’re an enigma to him, and he’d love to keep observing you up close

Oh, if only he could read and look at their face at the same time~

Satan may or may not have a secret notebook in which he records different occurrences that happened with MC and how he would describe their unique beauty in that moment 

Many of his books and encyclopedias have maps of the sky, he’s taken up some constellations (which he points out, just like Lucifer pls don’t k word me satan)

I swear, this boy… Wants to see their beauty immortalized in writing, described in only the most wonderful ways by his favorite authors (“An honest opinion, your allure deserves to be eternally portrayed in books so every living being can imagine what splendor the world holds.”)

Hard for him to pick a favorite aspect of theirs, but he certainly is very curious what genes caused such phenotype

💗😈 Asmodeus 💋🦂

“That’s not fair! How am I to compete with someone with galaxy eyes?! S-Surely, we’re both ethereal in our own ways? ...But I’m clearly still #1!”

B O Y 

One would think his first instinct was to try and seduce them… but oh no, no! For a moment there, Asmo thought he was Levi, feeling pure raw jealousy and envy at their magnificent eyes and glowing skin

He acted sweet and flirty just so his brothers wouldn’t suspect anything, but he felt terrible boiling magma in his stomach (why was he, a former angel, not blessed with looks as mesmerizing as theirs?)

It all changed once Asmo saw them awkwardly walk through RAD’s halls, littered with demons staring at their peculiar skin. Unwanted looks, intense stares, all of them varying in degrees of judgement. He remembered his first days as a demon, as a lust demon, how he disliked the stares at first. (“Looks like we’re not so different after all…”)

He went to their side, making light talk to take their attention off the stares. A human’s blush was never this beautiful before.

It was then when he became a little obsessed with throwing compliments their way to see the tips of their ears turn purple with little glittering spots

Asmodeus would adore to explore their entire body. Like, really, he wonders if their other… parts prone to blood rushes have the same purple tint

Allow him and he’ll cover every single little star on their skin with kisses

Asmo went from despising them to adoring every bit of them, but if he has to pick, their skin is his favorite

❤️👿 Beelzebub 🍔🤤

“Blink… Blink again… Once more... “ A very tender smile graced his lips, “Belphie would definitely adore your eyes.”

“But for me,” He wrapped his arms around them and lifted them up the ground, “Your blush whenever I hold you close is my favorite!” 

Like, really peeps, Beel immediately remembers his twin’s fascination with stars and the night sky when his eyes land on MC

It’s strange, but he feels at peace whenever this star filled human is with him

Beel isn't much to care for looks, but wow… this is one very interesting human

When you guys were helping Luke, he definitely stared at the flickering lights on their cheeks and ears to find sleep (and in that moment, he felt Belphie's and Lilith's calming presence with him once more)

They once cried of laughter due to some food incident, and WOW that is so pretty

May or may not have asked them if he could taste their tears asdfgjdi "They look tasty"

Always tries to surprise them with food and hugs once he noticed they blush constellations

Probably the only thing able to make him eat slower is watching the shifting starts in their eyes

💜👿 Belphegor 🛏️💤

"I...uhm…" He blushed lightly, "[Name], could you please look at me? Stars are my favorite...and you, your eyes..." Belphegor is at a total loss of words at the magic in their stare.

I'm going to delve into that before we get to the fluff so

SPOILERS FOR LESSON 16 / YANDERE BELPHIE AHEAD

Sure, he loved their eyes once he saw stars in them...but they are human

Boy, oh boy, did he ENJOY wholeheartedly seeing those glittering tears roll down their face as he took their life

"Say… Would you mind me taking your eyes out to keep as mine? They'll surely look nice hanging from my headboard"

"Is your blood star filled too? Let us see!"

Such a shame that it was a human who was blessed with such wonderful features~

END OF YANDERE (spoilers for other lessons continue)

After learning they're Lilith's descendant, he wonders if their stars are product of her angelic lineage

"Sister… is this your way of telling me to be happy? Bringing a human that is so kind and pretty into my life?"   "You filled them with the stars I love so much… Thank you"

What DOESN'T he love about them? Eyes, cheeks, skin, all the flickering stars and shades of blue-purple they blush in, their pupils and eye color

But out of it all, he adores looking at their eyes as he falls asleep

Also likes to trace the stars on their skin, be it forming constellations or in random patterns

Tickle wars happen with him, Beel and MC to see the glittering liquid from how hard they're laughing

I seriously cannot express how much Belphie's in love with this whole human    Fun, caring, intelligent, kind, adventurous, and just… plain perfect

😈 Lord Diavolo 👑

"I was not 'blessed' like the brothers to see clear skies in the Celestial Realm, and it's uncommon for me to go up into the human world." Diavolo sat close to them as Barbatos left after serving tea. "But I can say I'm far more blessed with you here to show me the stars." A handsome smile shaped his lips, widening after they blushed.

Honestly, Diavolo is hard to pin for me

Sure, he gets surprised by the human's looks, but welcomes them with open arms regardless

Actually enjoys their company because he gets to see a little piece of the night sky he gets to see very few times

When they show him their baby pictures to prove it's all natural and real, the Prince will take to share some of his own (just ‘cuz, to bond)

He likes to make them laugh, if not to see the small shining tears, to see their face flush dark purple and show constellations

Their presence is calming

He sometimes comes with the request of sitting together so he can see their starry eyes to help him settle down and relax

😈 Barbatos ☕

"These are very particular features… Perhaps I should visit the past to know what led to this?" The butler pondered. "No, I certainly wouldn't like my actions to alter timelines and prevent you from being here." A polite, yet teasing, smirk came to his face.

Like Satan, Barbatos would want to find written records of the existence of other starry humans

Very curious what caused this in a human, but he himself hypothesizes it's due to the angelic lineage

Likes to say flirty things to make them flush, he chuckles every time

Is very interested to see the magical potential their tears have for potions and protection charms

Curious to see if their tears can be used in food preparations (thinks his special tea would look even better with some of their tears added to it)

With how his ability is time travel, Barbatos likes to (privately) call himself Time while he dubs MC Space

He likes their blushes most

😇 Simeon 📖

"If only I had met you sooner, I would've included you in my books. Your character would've been adored by many; not just because of appearance, but also due to your kind heart."

Simeon likes that there's a little piece of sky here with him

He's also one to wonder if their looks are due to Lilith's blood, will have to do some research back in the Celestial Realm

Is always complimenting their eyes

Half expected their eyes to reflect the actual sky at different hours (dawn, evening, dusk, sundown, etc.)

Whenever he stumbles upon a cute star or moon shaped accessory or sweater, he buys it as a gift for them

Likes their eyes the most. He's an angel and has seen many interesting pairs of eyes in his heavenly siblings, but none as breathtaking as theirs

His time writing TSL may be coming to an end, but poetry is always an option to share his admiration for MC with the world~

😇 Luke 🧁🎂

"Hey hey! Michael used to say my eyes look like sunrise!" The small one exclaimed with a big smile, "I'm dawn and you're the night!" Luke giggled.

OMG, THIS CUTIE 🥺💕

Forgive him for staring longer than is welcomed, he's just very amazed by their looks!

He's seen angels with sparkles in their hair and wings, but to see a human with stars and night sky on their skin!!! Is fascinating!

Luke is very grateful to have met MC, he just feels super blessed to know someone as unique as them!

Will use them as inspiration for cookie and cake decorating

Another one curious about what their tears can add to desserts

But don't worry! So long as MC is in his line of sight, he will not allow a single tear to be shed!

To make sure no demon endangers them, this little angel will do his best to protect MC!

He adores their eyes and always asks to look at them ("You can look at mine in return! And see the daybreak Michael sees in them!")

🧙🏻‍♂️ Solomon 🔮

"Oh? What is this I see, a rival?" The wizard chuckled, "We can share the starry sky aesthetic, I don't mind."

SPACE 🤝 AESTHETIC 🤝🤝🤝

He immediately fires a lot of questions their way to find as much information as he can about their looks, magical power, and magical properties of their peculiar features

While the rest just wonder what their tears can do, Solomon is the fearless soul to actually ask for a sample to conduct tests with

If they become close, Solomon will find a way to preserve one of their tears to carry with him at all times

Yup, you guessed it! His favorite feature is their tears

...he makes them shed quite the handful with the cooking he gives as thanks for the samples lol

This one wonders if they are also star filled on the inside...as in, their tissues and organs (and blood)

But worry not, unless he’s given permission, Solomon will keep his hands to himself 

-- -- --

Sorry if this is so short Dx

And aah...sorry for including yandere themes, but it just fit and was interesting to think of~

Still, hope this was enjoyable

Thank you for the request!!

#march 2021 special #obey me #swd #obey me! #obey me x reader #lucifer obey me #om lucifer #lucifer #mammon #om mammon #mammon obey me #leviathan #levi #om leviathan #leviathan obey me #satan #satan obey me #om satan #asmodeus #asmo #om asmodeus #asmodeus obey me #beelzebub #beezebub obey me #om beelzebub #belphegor #belphie #om belphegor #belphegor obey me #request pavilion

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter twelve - “it’s hovercraft time, bucky barnes”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: neither bucky nor y/n can sleep... until they do. and the next day brings them an unexpected, but pleasant surprise.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

It was four in the morning when the psychologist and the super soldier got in their respective beds after the nightmare. Y/N laid on her side in the bunk across from Bucky, facing away from him and staring at the wall. Her body wanted to sleep but her mind kept whirring on and on, worrying about him.

It wouldn't be that bad if she could just ignore it. It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't wide awake also thinking about how it would be utterly impossible for him to have any eye color other than blue.

She sighed. Christ almighty, just go to sleep.

About twenty minutes passed before she heard it.

"Why are you still up?" he mumbled.

She turned over to her other side, dramatically, staring at his silhouette in the dark.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I'm a trained assassin," he said, as a matter of fact. "I can recognize breath patterns."

"Yeah, well I know for a fact that you aren't even trying to fall back asleep."

"How could you possibly know that?" he repeated her question.

"I just do," she stated before turning on her back and staring straight up.

He scoffed playfully.

"What?" she asked.

Her tone wasn't as playful. It wasn't angry or annoyed; she could never be with him. But, it was void of emotion and her usual sarcastic cadence. She didn't enjoy people reading her like that. She knew he wasn't, but it felt like she was being called out for caring so much. She wanted to rein in her own compassion, but she couldn't help the way he softened her.

"That's just code for 'I'm a trained psychologist and I know how you're gonna react to nightmares.'"

She replied with silence, desperately trying to end the conversation so she could try to sleep and leave this night behind.

"Sorry, did I- did I say something?" he asked.

"No, you're good."

Part of her felt bad for being short with him, but she needed it to be over. She needed to somehow distance herself from her own feelings.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up with the nightmare and messed with you being able to fall back asleep. I know it's... a lot."

He's sorry. He's sorry?

"Don't you dare apologize. It's not your fault, and it's not even why I can't fall back asleep."

"What's the problem then?"

"It's nothing. Just try and get some sleep."

"Yeah... about that..."

"Will you have another?"

"Not  sure. I don't wanna find out."

"I know. And I'm sorry. Sleep shouldn't be this menacing, but you should still try anyway. Your body needs it."

"So does yours."

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh. There she went caring again and he kept deflecting. Her frustrations about her own emotions came out in stubborn defiance.

"I'm not sleeping until you do."

"Guess we're both stayin' up then."

"Bucky," she gently admonished.

"Y/N I can't- that... was the worst one I've had in a while."

That was it. Any and all aggravation faded to nothing, and her cheeks were hot with guilt. To hell with it; she refused to leave him to pain. She then got out of her bunk. Carefully, she maneuvered out and kneeled on the floor, facing him. She felt bad; she didn't mean to push him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I should know better."

He mirrored her actions, slipping out of his own bunk and kneeling on the floor in front of her

"It's okay," he didn't miss a beat. His voice was as soft of hers. "Thank you."

He was closer now, so she could see a more detailed outline of him. She never really noticed just how large he was. Just his arm looked as big as her head. He was supposed to look frightening, but... she just couldn't see it.

"If you don't wanna sleep that's okay. I'll stay up with you so you don't have to be alone."

"Y/N..."

"I'm already up, I don't mind," she countered. "Seriously. I'm wide awake now. Honestly, I don't even know if I could fall back asleep if I tried."

"I can't ask you to stay up and babysit just 'cause you feel bad."

She scooted forward, determined not to lose to deflection again. Babysit? and Cause you feel bad? How could he truly think so little of himself?

"I am definitely not babysitting. I just happened to be awake at the same time you are... and not because I feel bad."

He scooted forward a couple inches, squinting, trying to decipher her facial expressions. "I can't tell if you're joking or not just from your tone of voice."

In the very back of her head it returned: that hazy enchantment feeling that swelled from her lungs through her brain stem every time she was this close to him. It is important to note - it was in the very back of her brain, and if you ignore something long enough, you can convince yourself it's not there.

"James Buchanan, I am awake and there's not a thing you can do about it."

"Alright," he sighed. "I don't know if you're expecting some kind of entertainment, but I can't really juggle with one arm..."

"I can't juggle with two."

"Ever been to the circus?"

"No."

He laughed. "Oh man, you're missin' out."

"No, I got the clown right here."

"Wow, is that how it is?"

"Depends. You got face paint and a rainbow wig?"

"Smartass."

The air was quiet after their breathy laughs fizzled out. A few moments of awkwardness quietly passed, both unsure of what to say next.

"You know when you're in the dark, your pupils dilate to take in as much light as they can in order to see better?" Y/N asked.

"I think I knew that? I'm not sure, I might've heard it somewhere. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I can't see your face super well, so it made me think of it. I can barely even see your eyes."

"Maybe that's better," he chuckled. "I don't know if they're still blood shot from earlier."

"Like I'd care."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"What?"

"Why wouldn't you care? I feel like seeing someone's puffy face and post-cry eyes would be kinda gross."

"You really think I care if your eyes are red or puffy?" she questioned. "Buck, I know I'm probably not supposed to say this because technically I'm your doctor, but I honestly consider you a really good friend. I'd be more worried to see that you've been crying than be aversive to it."

He scoffed in honest disbelief.

"What?"

"I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you think that way about me..."

"What do you mean?"

"...the person I am, the things I've done, the..." he shook his head, "the horrors I've committed..."

"The horrors you've committed are not who you are. I know you see yourself in a lot of different ways because it's hard to un-learn what other people have decided you are: a monster, a ghost, an asset, a machine, an assassin, a weapon, whatever. But have you ever considered that you're just human after all? You're a man who got dealt a shit hand in life. But there is still light in him... light that never left, no matter how hard they tried to beat it out of you. You're a survivor, Buck."

Bucky took a deep breath in, contemplating, before turning and laying on his back. They both remained on the floor, Y/N kneeling a few inches away from the side of Bucky's supine figure. He stared straight up at the ceiling.

"Sometimes I think I'm a better 'ghost' than I am a human being. My mind's a mess, and even though I'm trying, I still can't help but feel like I've lost who I am."

"You haven't lost who you are. You're just different now, and that's okay."

He looked up at her. "How do you always know what to say?"

"I know everything."

Y/N smiled, following Bucky's laugh, allowing the somber atmosphere to lighten up a bit. They so easily slipped in and out of the therapy dynamic, but now it seemed more like a heartfelt conversation between friends rather than treatment between doctor and patient.

"I consider you a really good friend too by the way - closest one I've had since Steve."

"Wow, really? That's an honor."

"Not really," he chuckled. "Steve's a punk."

And there she went laughing again. In one way or another she always found herself laughing around him.

However, she found it more confusing than funny when she woke up the following morning to find herself sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the beds with Bucky's head in her lap. She found her hands resting on his head protectively, fingers slightly carded through his long hair. She woke up before him... That's a first.

Y/N looked down at him. He was fast asleep; he looked peaceful and so relaxed. It was such a rare state to see him in, so she gave herself a few more seconds to study how his face looked when it was completely tranquil before she smoothed her hand along the back of his head and replaced her lap with a pillow.

-

"Hey," a raspy voice called out.

Y/N turned around from her seat at the table, hands still wrapped around the cup of tea she made herself a few minutes prior.

Bucky was awake, sitting up, but still in his previous spot on the floor.

"Hey. You want some tea?"

He stood up, nodding and stretching his back. "Did I fall back asleep?"

"You did," she smiled. "I'm pleased. I told you you needed the rest."

He seemed pleasantly surprised. "And on the floor too. Very classy."

She raised her mug to him, as if to make a toast. "Classiest man I know."

He laughed before grabbing the kettle and realizing it was empty.

"Shoot. We're outta water."

"It's alright. We know where to find the waterfall. You want to go get more?"

"Mm hm."

"Alright, I'll just finish my tea and go out in a few minutes."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm coming too."

"You sure? You just woke up. You can take some time to just relax if you want."

"No. I'm going."

"Stubborn. I can go myself, you know. I know the way."

"Would you let me go by myself?"

Y/N was silent for a moment before sighing.

"Get your shoes."

-

"You know, there was really no reason to almost push me into the water," Bucky commented as they were making their way back to the shelter after restocking their water supply.

"I wasn't actually going to!"

"You might as well have! My life flashed before my eyes!"

"Bet that took forever. You wanna backtrack? I can do it for real this time."

"I'm throwin' you in next time."

"You couldn't throw me," she challenged.

"Like a football," he countered, smirking.

"I don't wanna test that theory."

Their banter continued as they continued walking, making sure they were in the tree line and not out in the open. Bucky was always cautious. He was able to laugh with her while still making sure they were safe. That was until his arm was suddenly around the front of her shoulders, and holding her against his chest as his back was flush against a tree, effectively hiding them both from sight. She just stared forward, barely registering how fast he swiveled both of them around.

"There's someone at the bunker. I'm sorry- didn't want us to be seen."

He removed his arm, but her feet were stuck. She had never been close to him like this before; she didn't know what to think of it. She stepped forward a bit, breaking the contact but still facing away from him. She was hyperaware of their proximity but that quickly dissipated as she registered what he said.

"What did you see?"

"There were a couple people, but I didn't get a great look 'cause I moved out of sight fast. One woman, two men? I think."

His tone and demeanor reminded her of that day Shuri told them they had to go in hiding. He was so calm and collected. She forgot situations like these were practically muscle memory to him.

"Do you think someone found us? What were they doing?"

"I only saw 'em for a second, I'm not sure. Stay still, I'm gonna look."

As soon as his head peaked around the tree, so did Y/N's, ignoring his order.

"Wait, I think that's Shuri."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I don't know if I'd bet my life on it."

"What's that other thing?"

"The hovercraft?"

"Hovercraft? God, I love this place."

"Wait, see the crest on the hovercraft - that's the one only Shuri can unlock."

"Alright, just... stay behind me. Okay?"

"Okay."

The two slowly made their way towards the three Wakandans. Y/N actually listened this time and stayed behind Bucky. As soon as they were in sight, Shuri came running up to them.

"Y/N!" she exclaimed, immediately throwing herself into the psychologist, embracing her.

She was startled at first, arms awkwardly hanging by her sides before her brain finally caught up to her and she brought her arms up lightly, returning the hug.

"Shuri! What happened?"

"We won!" Shuri grinned. "It's a long and complicated story, but the rightful King never died. My brother has reclaimed his place on the throne. Wakanda is ours once again!"

A monumental weight was lifted from Y/N's shoulders. She sighed in relief, knowing she was no longer in danger, knowing Bucky was no longer in danger.

"That's incredible. I'm so glad everything's okay, and I'm so glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you too, my partner," Shuri hugged her once more before addressing Bucky. "Sergeant Barnes. I'm sorry for all the trouble. I hope everything was alright?"

"We've been getting along just fine," he nodded. "Thank you."

Shuri called over the two other men - royal guards that came with her - before turning back to Y/N and Bucky.

"You've been camped out here in hiding long enough. Let us go home."

As they walked behind the Wakandan princess, Y/N nudged Bucky with her elbow.

"It's hovercraft time, Bucky Barnes," she managed to say through a face numbing smile.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #steve rogers #marvel #bucky fic #bucky reader insert #bucky blurb #bucky drabble #marvel fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes delicate #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #james bucky barnes #astro rain #astro-rain #delicate

[shieldofrohan]

I don't think GRRM explores the flaws in Arya's characterisation rather he explores how the world is unfair to her. Whenever I read Jon, Sansa, Dany , Robb and Bran, I feel they behave as their age requires them to be. They show capabilities yet are not exempted from bad choices which a character at their age can easily commit. With Arya, sometimes it feels like I am not reading a 11 year old kid but a grown up 25 year old woman who never messes up things or has any characterisation flaws which are not inherent within like the other child characters but those failings are primarily influenced by the society.

Hello Anon,

I have to agree and disagree with you.

I agree with that Martin writes Jon, Sansa and Dany better- MUCH BETTER.

I am obviously not a Daenerys fan but I enjoyed her character more than I did with Arya. I said it many times but I am going to say it again: Daenerys is the best written character in the series. She is much more interesting villain than man-pain Tyrion [looking at you Martin.. really, Tyrion?].

Objectively I find her character well written and interesting. But my problem with her is that her cult like fans who completely ignore her true position and characterization in the books. Hopefully in the future people will enjoy Dany character for the right reasons.

I felt like I need to explain my thoughts about Dany first to show my problems with the way of Arya was written by the author.

Arya is the WORST written main character. TRULY. Everything about her is so FAKE/FORCED/CLICHE/UNREALISTIC…

Author says that Arya is the underdog/outcast of the family. Does the writing show this?

NO!

She is literally her father's favorite child. We see Ned constantly favoring her, letting her do what she likes, he never scolds her, he makes time to talk with her about her traumas like losing a friend, he fcking finds a Water Dancer for her [but not a harp teacher for Sansa]. I have a great dad but jeez, even he never showed me this kind of devotion.

Catelyn seems like she knows her daughter well… we don’t see her abusing or ignoring her. She even acknowledges her struggles.

Her siblings love her. Even Sansa tries to keep include her into her own circle to enjoy things together, she covers for her against Septa Mordane.

As we can see, she seems doing fine as a tomboy girl in the family of 5 men/boys and 2 women/girls.

BUT SHE COULDN’T SEW SO SHE WAS BEING ABUSED.

Really? Wow she must be the only special snowflake who wasn’t good at sewing. I am sure rest of the girls in North were all experts. Arya is the only one who lacks some skill people and it made her super sad.

Fans tried to paint this as some "omg anti-feminism/sexism in society" thing and it feels absurd because Arya was bad at history and heraldy too..

A tomboy is not good at some female-coded skill is so fcking cliche for character building and I am not buying it. And this is BAD/LAZY WRITING.

Did Martin try to make her look like an underdog with this??

Well Sansa is not good at math? I am sure she had bad days because of this too but we didn’t read it. If you ask me Sansa (girly girl) being bad at math (male-coded subject) was more sexist than sewing and Arya thing [considering Sansa was good at music and playing instruments which require math but whatever.]

Arya is an outcast because she is not like other girls… WOW, it has never been written before, how did George come up with this idea? Meanwhile we have girls like Mormont girls so obviously she is not the only "NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS MARY SUE".

Evil Mordane bullied poor Arya. Mordane is totally not good for her BUT Arya literally never listens HER TEACHER. I am not talking about her lack of skill in sewing. Arya simply NEVER listens anyone. She disobeys her septa, she declines QUEEN’s invitations rudely, she talks sh*t about CROWN PRINCE while princess is next to them.

Girly lessons like sewing weren’t the only lessons she was not into it…

Sansa would have known who he was, and the fat one too, but Arya had never taken much interest in titles and sigils. Whenever Septa Mordane had gone on about the history of this house and that house, she was inclined to drift and dream and wonder when the lesson would be done.

[ACOK; Arya VII]

She simply never cares about any lessons and she simply refuses to learn basic DECORUM. Yeah I am sorry that she had to learn things she didn’t want to but welcome to real world.

MY POINT IS: all these are so weak points to make her look like an outcast/underdog.

Don’t even let me start with Jeyne Poole calling her HORSERACE nonsense. I said it before so I repeat it: This feels so forced in the story considering Arya is the daughter of Warden of the North and Jeyne is some simple daughter of a simple man who works for Starks.

This is what author himself says about class system:

Q: What was the hardest thing in writing about such an alien world?

GRRM: The vast majority of fantasy is middle agey time wise, and he himself finds the period fascinating; glad to adopt it for novel writing - likes knights and castles and such. He objects to bad fantasy practice which adopts a time setting without accepting the culture - imposing 20th century values like the cheeky stableboy telling off the princess (in reality cheeky stableboy would lose his tongue - look what happend to Mycah); the class system was not just and ornament and these people truly belived in blood, and the rank and priviledge that came with "good" blood. [2006]

But Jeyne somehow had no fear when she was “bullying” a princess. Does this make sense to you or does it feel forced to make Arya look like a victim. And this bad writing keeps repeating itself while author writes Arya and when you realize this pattern you can’t unsee it and it ruins the books a little.

I wrote all these to explain what is ACTUALLY wrong with Arya as a character. I don’t blame Arya for the bad writing, I blame the author.

And I disagree with you a little when you said: "With Arya, sometimes it feels like I am not reading a 11 year old kid but a grown up 25 year old woman who never messes up things or has any characterisation flaws which are not inherent within like the other child characters but those failings are primarily influenced by the society.”

[I explained the her failings in society’s eyes part already.. that thing is a cliche and unrealistic writing]

I don’t agree with that reading Arya feels like reading an older woman. No it feels like reading a VERY UNREALISTIC AND DISTURBING CHILD. She totally makes mistakes:

Talking bad about prince in a room full of people, declining Queen’s invitations, not listening her septa and Sansa, making prince angry, hiding for 4 days while she should have gone to her father to deal with the mess so maybe Mycah and Lady wouldn’t be dead, attacking her sister, killing a stableboy, killing many other people, joining a assassin cult, killing a Black brother because she thinks she has the right etc..

She makes mistakes but we didn’t see her face any consequences. Will we see her face them?? When it comes to Arya I don’t trust GRRM. GRRM covers for her all the time. GRRM = Ned Stark. He favors her. I mean look at this:

Sansa saves Dontos who later molests her and he works for Baeslish who also molests her.

Arya saves Jaqen H’ghar and he turns out to be a Faceless Man who kills THREE people for her.

Sandor sexually assaults Sansa but not Arya [I am not saying he should!! But why is it always Sansa? Does the author punish Sansa for her beauty… ANSWER IS YES because I am done!]

Sansa trusts Joffrey and Cersei ends up the most hated character in the books [even author says she had a part in her father’s death and he is ok with fans hating her]

Meanwhile Arya’s spider senses tell her to not trust Roose Bolton or anyone etc.

Arya runs into people like Yoren or Harwin meanwhile Sansa… you got it.

Basically this is a simple case of author favoring a character and it happens in all books.

The only thing that indicates author knows she is not perfect is that him calling her a “psycho” or not disagreeing when fans call her a psycho [I know I usually make fun of this but actually this is not some good take about a child character especially if you say Starks- including Arya- are the heroes]

In conclusion: I think she is written terribly, she is the weakest part in the story and character building. I simply hate the way author deals with her character. I think she is not interesting. She turned out to be a very dark and disturbing child character and I have no idea what is GRRM trying to tell with her.

Thanks for the ask. Have a nice day.

#anti grrm #anti arya stark #anti arya stans #ask #answered #reply #anon #grrm critical #mine

[pregnant-piggy]

Summer Games - one

Blaise Zabini x reader

masterlist

warnings: mentions of food, no pronouns used

A/N: because apparently I can’t write short fics anymore, i turned his idea into a short series! different from the last series, this one is fluffy and light-hearted. I hope you like it!

written for @omgrachwrites​ writing challenge with the prompts: ‘I can’t have this argument with you again.’ ‘But—’ ‘No, I’m done.’ and ‘Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought  I should move it so I could see you better.’

word count: 5.4k

Rain was pouring down from the skies outside, and had been all week. Dark grey heavens had been the ceiling to the world for seven days already and it didn’t seem like it would get any better anytime soon. For May the weather was dull and grim—the complete opposite of the year before when the sun had been out already in March.

Not that many seventh year students were outside anyway. With the exams approaching fast, most time beside classes was spent in the library or in the dark common rooms. To get the students outside after all, the school had decided that despite the rain all outside classes would continue.

Hence you were slipping and sliding over the soggy grass on your way back from Herbology to the castle for lunch, trying to keep up with Pansy who seemed to have less trouble than you. That, however, was not what was bothering you.

‘Come on, Pansy. You know it would be fun! It’s our final year, it’ll be nice!’

Pansy sighed as she caught your arm and pulled you back to your feet after you’d nearly slipped. Nevertheless there was a small smile on her face and you felt like doing a dance, had you not been standing so weakly on your feet.

‘Fine,’ she gave in and you cheered. ‘But good luck trying to convince the guys, if you mention “Summer Games” once more they’ll ignore you for the rest of the day.’

The Summer Games were the annual week-long festival in your grandparents’ hometown. You had been begging your friends to come along with you for years now, but they always found reasons  to not come—the most used one being ‘it’s stupid’. Every year when the end of the school year was approaching your friends would feel it coming and never intentionally brought up the subject of the summer vacation. However this year you wouldn’t just leave it there. You really wanted your friends to come and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

‘I’ll just use my charming personality,’ you smirked as you followed Pansy to the big table in the Great Hall. ‘They can’t resist that.’

‘Well, Blaise for sure can’t.’

‘Shut up,’ you mumbled as you sat down next to Pansy and she shot you a sly grin.

You chatted with Pansy for a while as you waited for Draco and Blaise to return from their potions class. Meanwhile you tried to come up with ways to convince them, but when they finally arrived you hadn’t many more thoughts than before.

‘Merlin, I’m starving,’ Blaise grumbled as he slumped down on the bench and immediately reached for the food in front of him.

Draco took the seat next to him and shook his head disapprovingly. ‘You don’t know how much I’ve heard that in the past hour. He’s terrible.’

‘Not as annoying as y/n was trying to get me to come with them to their grandparents in the summer,’ Pansy sighed, spooning sugar into her tea.

‘Oh not this again,’ Draco whined and you shot him a mad look.

‘I’ll have you know that Pansy agreed with me actually,’ you said, triumphantly smiling at your friend. ‘So now all you have to do is stop being so stubborn and agree to come.’

‘Never,’ Draco swore, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘Draco, please! It will be fun! It’s our final school year; don’t you think we should do something together?’

‘I can’t have this argument with you again!’ Draco cried out exasperated, throwing his arms up in the air.

‘But—’

‘No, I’m done,’ Draco said and he raised his hand to stop you from talking.

You whimpered sadly and desperately turned to your other friend, who had been solely focused on his lunch and hadn’t joined in the argument. You put up puppy eyes and pouted your lips as you looked at Blaise. ‘Blaise?’

He looked up and you could have sworn something flickered in his eyes when he looked at you. Slowly he lowered his fork and turned from you to Draco and back to you. You were still pouting and Blaise chuckled at your face, making your cheeks burn.

‘Please, Blaise? You wouldn’t turn me down, would you?’ you asked sweetly and tilted your head to the side a little. Next to you, Pansy scoffed softly and you kicked her shin, causing her to hiss in pain.

Blaise stayed silent for a while as he contemplated what to say, but eventually he shot you a small smile and shrugged. ‘I guess it wouldn’t be too bad…’

/\/\/\

The sun was shining fiercely down on the roof of the bus shelter and the beams were even hotter through the glass. Trees were nowhere to be seen on the side of the road so shadow was a scarce thing.

Draco stood next to you and even though he had arrived ten minutes earlier, you still weren’t done laughing. In all the years that you had known Draco not once had you seen him in shorts, so when he had crossed the street to the bus shelter at first you hadn’t even recognised him. Then when you had noticed Draco’s face you had started to laugh so hard that your backpack had slipped from your shoulder and you had nearly fallen to your knees.

Draco was wearing black shorts and underneath stuck two very pale legs that you thought had never seen daylight before. But that wasn’t what was so bad about it; after all pale legs were just a natural thing. The bad thing about it was that above it Draco was wearing an orange, flower-patterned shirt that clashed terribly with his skin colour and on top of it all a bucket hat, something that surprised you Draco even had it, let alone wear it.

It was such a difference from the always neat Draco you knew that you hadn’t even heard his explanation over your laughter. And now he was scowling at you as you picked up your bag from the ground.

‘It’s hot, y/n,’ Draco tried. ‘You seriously don’t expect me to wear black pants in the summer, do you?’

‘Is this what you wear at home too? Does your dad dress this way as well?’ you snickered and sat down on the little bench in the bus shelter.

‘Oh, shut it,’ Draco said and he turned away from you.

Next to arrive was Blaise. You waved at him as he walked into the street and a big smile formed on his face when he recognised your figure. You blushed and quickly averted your eyes, but Draco had already seen it and he was laughing at you.

‘Did the other seniors enjoy the cruise as much as you?’ you shot back and Draco turned red, grumbling something as he turned away.

Blaise walked up to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder—something he usually never did. Blood rushed to your head and you could only smile giddily while trying to not let your heart explode.

‘Am I the first one to arri—’ Blaise started but his eyes widened when he saw Draco in his orange shirt. ‘Wow, where’d you get that shirt? You look like an orange threw up on you.’

You chortled and slapped your hand over your mouth, while Draco looked angrily at his friend. Blaise’s chest moved up and down as he laughed and you felt his low chuckle in your bones. Before you could do anything embarrassing you disentangled from Blaise’s arm and looked into the street, seeing if Pansy was there to save you.

However it took another five minutes before Pansy arrived and in those five minutes you listened to Blaise coming up with more jokes about Draco’s shirt. You laughed when Blaise started to attack the bucket hat and when Pansy finally joined the group you were wiping the tears from your eyes. Blaise was looking at you with an exultant smile and you blushed, shaking your head lightly at the terrible jokes.

‘Oh Merlin, why are you wearing that, Draco?’ Pansy cried out as soon as she stood at the bus shelter. ‘Is that why we never get pictures of you in the summer?’

‘It’s a perfectly fine shirt!’ Draco scoffed. ‘Why aren’t we attacking Blaise on his green shirt?’

‘Because he looks good in it,’ you said without thinking, receiving two surprised stares from Pansy and Draco and a thankful smile from Blaise. ‘You don’t, Draco, like really not.’

‘Alright, alright,’ Draco said, throwing his hands up in defence. ‘I won’t wear this shirt anymore. Is that what you want?’

‘I’d rather you throw that shirt away, but alright,’ Pansy said and she took her bag as the bus arrived. ‘That will do for now.’

The four of you got on the bus with all your bags and you shot the driver an apologetic smile as Draco entered the bus swearing behind Pansy, trying to get back at her. You followed after him and pushed him in his back, forcing him further into the bus.

Pansy took place in a seat at the end of the bus and Draco quickly sat down next to her and started to talk to her, but you didn’t miss Pansy’s mischievous smile as you sat down and had to make place for Blaise. He sat down next to you with a sigh and placed his backpack on the ground at his feet.

You weren’t not used to sit next to Blaise or be in close proximity, but every time it happened you felt your heartbeat pick up and your cheeks get hotter. Sometimes you wished to go back to a time when that didn’t happen, though if you were honest you also liked the way Blaise made you feel. It was a dangerous game, but you enjoyed playing it.

‘How long to your grandparents?’ Blaise asked as he stared at the board above the exit of the bus that showed the route and the stops of the bus.

‘It’s one of the last stops,’ you said, leaning back in your seat. ‘If there isn’t too much traffic I think we’ll be there in two and a half, maybe three hours.’

‘Hmm,’ Blaise hummed and he took his backpack from the floor, unzipping it. ‘Good thing I brought these then.’ And he pulled out a box with your favourite cookies, shaking them in front of you.

‘Oh, Blaise you are amazing!’ you exclaimed and wrapped your arms around him. ‘Did you get these for me?’

Blaise chuckled as you let him go and opened the box. ‘Well, actually they’re for Draco, but then he decided to wear that ugly shirt.’

‘You know, just because I am not sitting next to you, doesn’t mean I don’t hear what you say,’ Draco said and you looked past Blaise to the angry blond.

‘I know,’ Blaise said drily and he gave you a cookie.

You spent the bus ride talking with Blaise and playing travel scrabble. Pansy had finally let go on Draco’s shirt and after a while he lost his grumpiness and joined Blaise to destroy you in the scrabble game. You shared sweets and stories; Draco told how he had applied for a job at the store that sold potions ingredients in Hogsmeade, Pansy had an elaborate story on how she had gotten into a fight with her sister because she had refused to help her with her homework and after your friends had begged, you told how you had seen Neville Longbottom throw up before he had had to give a speech at the graduation at the end of the school year.

‘Poor kid,’ Pansy said and she shook her head. ‘I hope he overcomes his insecurities. It is no life he lives.’

After almost two and a half hours, the bus drove off the main road into the green countryside of the town your grandparents lived in. The sun was setting lower in the sky and it shone through the window on your left, illuminating Blaise’s face with a golden light. He was leaning his head back and had his eyes closed. The sunlight lay as a feather light blanket over the features of his face.

You couldn’t look away. Entranced by the beauty of the boy next to you, you fell into a haze. Your surroundings disappeared into a blur of colours and soft sounds and all you could focus on was Blaise’s sun-kissed face. It costed all the strength in your body to not reach out and brush your fingers over his cheeks.

‘y/n?’

You shot up from your daze and shook your head. If you couldn’t keep yourself together this would be a difficult trip.

‘Aren’t we near our stop?’ Draco asked and you looked past Blaise at him.

Outside the plain meadows with cows and sheep had changed for the cobblestone roads. The bus was approaching a little village that was coming nearer with the minute. The first lonely farmhouses stood next to the road, with front yards full of blooming flowers and colourful curtains behind the windows.

The bus stopped before entering the village, where the streets were so narrow it wouldn’t fit. There was a little square where the vehicle made a turn to leave in the way it came later. With a shock the bus came to a halt and Blaise’s eyes fluttered open.

‘We’re here, sleepy head,’ you said and nudged him with your elbow.

Blaise shot you a sleepy smile and he got up from his seat. He took your and his bag from above the seats and as he had his hands above his head, his shirt lifted and you could see his stomach and a small part of the waistband of his boxers. Taking a deep breath, you averted your eyes and busied yourself with the fabric on the bus seats.

All packed with your bags you stepped from the bus onto the square at the beginning of the village your grandparents lived. A warm sense of familiarity washed over you at seeing the houses. You only came here once a year in the summer, but all the memories you had of the village were ones you were fond of. The old houses and little streets always made you feel welcome, no matter how long you had been away.

‘Let’s go,’ you said and took your bag on your shoulders. ‘They’re waiting for us.’

/\/\/\

Sunlight peaked through the crack between the curtains, lighting up the bedroom. Blaise groaned and he turned around in his bed, blocking out the light by pulling his pillow over his face. The darkness pleasantly fell over his face and he would have fallen asleep again had it not been for Malfoy.

In the bed next to him, Draco was whirling and kicking against his bedsheets. Blaise had shared a room with Draco for seven years so he was used to the sounds of the boy in the morning, but that was when they were at school. Blaise wasn’t so fond of getting woken this early by Draco in the summer.

‘Shut up, idiot,’ Blaise grumbled from under his pillow and Malfoy’s movements silenced.

‘I can’t help it,’ Draco shot back, his grumpy tone laced with sleep. ‘These sheets are so uncomfortable!’

He started to move again and Blaise let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Spoiled little brat you are,’ he muttered. ‘These sheets are fine.’

‘Ugh, I guess they are “fine” but I’m just used to silk,’ Draco went on, still not lying still. ‘You don’t think they have those here, do you?’

Blaise lifted his head from under his pillow and shot Draco an angry look. ‘No they don’t and don’t you dare ask for it. y/n’s grandparents are so nice to let us stay here and you won’t be an ungrateful guest. Didn’t your mommy teach you manners?’

‘Fine,’ Draco said and he rolled his eyes.

After that Draco stopped moving around so much and content Blaise dropped his head back on his mattress. He pulled his pillow back over his head again, but before he could even let it go, the door opened and you burst inside. Draco squealed and pulled the sheets up to his neck as if he had something to hide.

‘Draco, please,’ you snickered. ‘I’ve seen much more from you.’

It was as if the sun itself had entered the room now you were here and Blaise turned on his back, putting the pillow under his head. You were still laughing at Draco who was grumbling and trying to pull his pyjama shirt straight. With a sleepy smile on his face Blaise watched as you rolled your eyes at Draco and then turned to Blaise.

‘Come on, guys! Breakfast is waiting!’ you exclaimed and smiled at Blaise before you left the room.

When you were out of sight, Blaise’s smile faltered and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Slowly and grunting he sat up in bed, stretching his arms over his head. The wooden floor squeaked under his feet as he got up and went to search for his clothes.

‘If I had known all those years that it just takes y/n to get you up in the morning…’ Draco started but a yawn interrupted his comment.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Blaise muttered as he pulled his shirt over his head. Fully dressed he made his bed neatly and felt Draco’s eyes on him as he did. ‘What?’

‘Are you wearing green again because y/n said that you looked good in it yesterday?’ Draco asked, tilting his head to the side as he watched Blaise intently.

Blaise pulled the sheets over the bed and looked up at Draco. He was still sitting in bed, wearing his satin pyjamas and his hair was a mess. Chuckling Blaise walked to the door and before he disappeared he said: ‘It doesn’t matter what I wear, next to you I always look good.’

Your grandparents’ house wasn’t as big as the farmhouses the bus had passed, but it was still big enough for the company. Draco and Blaise slept in one bedroom and you and Pansy slept in the one next to it. Your grandparents had a room on the floor above so you weren’t of any trouble to them at night.

Your grandparents were very friendly people. Yesterday they had welcomed their grandchild lovingly and after you had introduced everyone they had welcomed Blaise, Pansy and Draco with just as much love. Dinner had been ready already and Blaise hadn’t known what was better; the food at Hogwarts or your grandparents’ food. During dinner Blaise had talked with your grandmother and he had learned that your craziness for the Summer Games wasn’t just you; it was the whole village.

‘Good morning!’ you cheered from the kitchen counter when Blaise entered the kitchen.

He smiled at you and sat down next to Pansy, who was wearing a sly grin as she looked at Blaise and then at you. He grimaced and shook his head. Apparently his little crush on you hadn’t gone completely unnoticed.

‘Coffee?’ you asked as you got to the table with a pitcher of coffee.

‘Yes, please,’ Blaise said and he pushed the mug near his plate to you.

You filled it and then placed the pitcher on the table. While you sat down, Blaise took a sip of his coffee and welcomed the warm liquid in his body. Slowly he felt himself waking more and more and he could actually appreciate waking up this early for once.

‘Where are your grandparents?’ Blaise asked over his coffee.

‘My grandfather is in the garden and grandma is part of the organisation of the festival so she’s at the fields already.’

A silence fell over the breakfast table and the three of you drank your coffee and tea quietly, letting the sleep fade from your system. After five minutes the floors squeaked and Draco entered the kitchen with a grumpy look on his face.

‘Oh dear Merlin, we’ve awoken the monster,’ Pansy mumbled as Draco sat down at the table. She filled Draco’s cup with coffee and pressed it in his hands. ‘Drink this, it’ll keep the demons at bay.’

Breakfast went on silently and only when you were putting away the dishes after, Draco had got over his grumpiness. Blaise was helping you cleaning out the table and stood with his back towards to table when Draco spoke his first words of the morning.

‘Why so early?’

Blaise placed the plates next to the sink and turned around to you. You shrugged and collected the empty coffee cups while you answered. ‘The festival doesn’t start until twelve, so I thought I’d show you the village. Was it too early?’

‘No, of course not,’ Blaise answered quickly before Draco could open his mouth and this one shot him an angry look. Blaise chuckled and took the cups from your hands, placing them next to the plates.

You shot him a grateful look and then turned around to Pansy and Draco who were still sitting at the table. ‘Go on then,’ you said. ‘Let’s get going!’

/\/\/\

Out in the fields around the village the festival of the Summer Games had been built. The meadows that belonged to the farmers and were used for their cows turned into quite the happening in the summer. For a week the whole village would slow down their work and put most of their attention in the Summer Games.

It was nearing noon when Blaise and his friends got to the fields. All around were little booths with products of the people in the village, such as jars of honey, paintings of the hills and handmade wooden ornaments. The stalls were decorated with colourful garlands around the edges and handwritten signs. During your tour through the village Blaise had wondered why it had been so quiet, but now it was clear that everyone had been at the fields already—all the booths were occupied by at least one person behind them, arranging the final things before the festival would start.

At the back of the meadow a small stage had been placed. It was just enough for a little band to perform on and indeed there stood two men and a woman next to the stage, talking to who seemed to be the stage-manager. In front of the stage space for a dancefloor had been created and behind that stood a couple picnic tables.

‘Welcome to the festival!’ you exclaimed and turned around to your three friends. ‘Signing up starts in a few minutes I think, so we have some time to look around.’

Blaise looked aside to Draco and was surprised to find his friend actually interested by everything around him. This all wasn’t very Draco, but he seemed to enjoy it.

‘What do we need to sign up for?’ Pansy asked, as she linked her arm with yours.

‘The Games are played in teams,’ you explained, walking towards one of the stands with Blaise and Draco trailing behind you. ‘You play the games in the next days as part of a team and earn points for winning. The team that has the most points at the end of the week wins.’

You led your friends to one of the nearby booths that sold cherries and all things made of that. On the other side of the table stood a man in his early fifties, wearing a straw hat over his red, sunburned face. A wide smile spread on his face when he saw you.

‘y/n! How great to see you!’ the man greeted you and you smiled at him. ‘How are you?’

‘It’s good to see you too, Hank,’ you said. ‘I’m great! We arrived yesterday evening and we’re staying for the whole week.’

Hank looked past you at Blaise, Draco and Pansy and through his smile Blaise could see a golden tooth.

‘You finally convinced them to come?’ Hank asked you and he leaned back.

Pansy raised her eyebrow at Blaise and Draco and turned to you. ‘You talk about us here?’

‘Of course,’ you said and turned to your friends. ‘Everyone here knows I’ve been trying to get you here for years now.’

‘Well, that doesn’t make us look good,’ Draco mumbled and he held his hand over his eyes as he looked out on the field, like he was searching for people that were commenting on him.

Hank either didn’t hear or ignored Draco’s comment and he brushed away a wasp from his cherry pastries. ‘So you’re done now at that… Scottish boarding school of yours?’

You laughed softly and as you answered, Blaise’s stomach started to growl loud enough for everyone, including Hank, to hear it. They turned to him and he shot an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry, can’t really help it.’

‘Don’t worry, boy,’ Hank said and reached for the plate with cherry pastries. ‘Take one on the house.’

Blaise wanted to decline out of courtesy but his stomach didn’t allow for him to be kind. He took a pastry of the plate and his friends followed after him. It was silent as you all took a bite, but after the first bite the silence was swapped for satisfied moans. The pastry was light and sweet, but a little sour from the cherries and Blaise swore it was one of the best things he had ever eaten.

‘This is amazing!’ Pansy moaned loudly and a passer-by shot her a weird look. She winked at them suggestively and they walked on quickly.

Blaise laughed at Pansy, but he couldn’t deny that he didn’t feel the same. The cherry pastries were a bit of heaven. He closed his eyes as he took another bite and when he opened them, he was met with your gaze. Immediately the blood rushed to his cheeks and he looked away.

‘Glad to know they are liked,’ Hank said. ‘My husband will be happy to hear that.’

From the stage something incomprehensible was said and you looked up. ‘Say hi to him from me!’ you said, while you made your way to the stage, waving at Hank behind you. ‘I’ll catch up with you later!’

Blaise followed you to the picnic tables near the stage and sat down next to you. His arm was pressed against yours as someone else sat next to him and he could feel his heart beating in his throat. He wasn’t a stranger from being close to you, but that didn’t mean that it did nothing to him. Every time he was touching you or sitting close to you his heart would leap and a strange sense of comfort washed over him.

Slowly the tables started to fill with people until there were no empty spaces left. It surprised Blaise to see how many people there were when the village hadn’t seemed that big at all. And it surprised him even more to see how many of those people knew you. Some came up to make a little chat and others just waved at you from their spot. You answered everyone with a big smile and Blaise grew happier the longer he looked at your smile.

Eventually you turned to your friends and explained what was going on. ‘It will start soon. The head of the organisation will shortly say something and then we have till six this evening to sign up for the teams.’

On the stage a tall, dark woman stepped behind the microphone and the chatter from the people at the picnic table fell silent. The woman tapped on the mike to make sure it worked and then said: ‘Hello and welcome to the fifty-sixth Summer Games!’

Blaise turned his head to you. ‘Fifty-sixth?’

‘Yeah, it’s been going for quite a while,’ you nodded and then a smile formed on your lips as you looked at Blaise.

‘What?’ he asked, afraid he had done something.

‘This year too has been organised by some of the greatest of our village,’ the woman on the stage went on, but the names were lost on Blaise as he watched you in anticipation.

‘It’s nothing,’ you chuckled softly. ‘You just—you got something on your cheek…’

Blaise’s hand immediately shot up to his cheek but he felt nothing. You were still looking at him and a cute giggle fell from your lips while Blaise attempted to clean his cheek.

‘Here, let me,’ you said and pushed Blaise’s hand away. You brought your hand closer to his cheek and cupped his jaw. Your fingers were light on his skin and once again that familiar feeling of comfort fell over Blaise.

Sooner than Blaise liked you pulled your hand back. On your finger was a dark red smudge from the cherry jam on the pastry. Blaise smiled sheepishly and shook his head a little embarrassed.

‘Thanks,’ he mumbled, feeling like his cheeks were on fire.

‘No problem,’ you said and you licked the jam off your finger without giving it a second thought before you turned back to the woman on stage.

‘Choose your team wisely,’ she said. ‘Tonight at seven we will announce the teams and tomorrow the first games will begin. For now I wish you a happy time at our festival!’

/\/\/\

There were four teams competing in the Summer Games. Each team had their own team captain, usually someone who had been playing in the Games for an extended period of time and knew how the games worked. For as long as you had been playing the Games you had been part of the Red Titans, a team led by Wyatt Holm, the town’s baker. Your team’s strongest opponents were the Sly Foxes. For the past ten years the point-difference between the Titans and the Foxes was minimal and it was always a neck-and-neck race. The rivalry between Wyatt and Alysia Gemeti, the Foxes’ team captain since three years, ran high during the week of the festival.

The other two teams were the Raging Angels and the Oiled Machines. You didn’t know where the names had come from, but they had been like that since the beginning and no one wanted to change them.

They had announced the teams an hour ago and you were walking back with your friends to your grandparents’ house. You and Pansy had signed up for the Red Titans, like you did every year, and you had figured the boys had too.

Only you had been wrong.

‘The Foxes?! Seriously?’ you cried incredulously. ‘You signed up for the Foxes? Why?’

Draco looked at you and shrugged like he didn’t really care. Blaise avoided your eyes as he was staring at his feet. You stared at your friends with faked anger. Although you had wanted all of you to be in the same team so you could play together, you guessed it wouldn’t be too bad to play against them. Plus, that would make winning even better.

‘It was Blaise’s idea really,’ Draco then said to which Blaise scowled.

‘No it wasn’t! You’re the one that blindly followed that girl!’

Curiosity got the better of you and you forgot to be angry for a moment. ‘What girl?’

Draco’s cheeks immediately changed colour and he looked away from you. He stammered something incomprehensible and started to walk a bit faster. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back, but Draco wouldn’t open his mouth again.

Pleadingly you looked at Blaise.

‘I didn’t catch her name but I guess she’s a little older than us. Light brown skin, dark hair and I wanna say dark eyes, but I’m not sure about that,’ Blaise said.

‘Alysia,’ you mumbled as you matched Blaise’s description with the picture of the Foxes’ team captain in your mind.

‘She was clearly interested in Blaise,’ Draco pointed out, his cheeks still red but seemingly more confident now.

‘Really?’ Pansy asked, shooting you a glare.

‘She wasn’t interested in me!’ Blaise shook his head. ‘She asked if we’d signed up for a team already. Then Draco started to stammer and turned red as a beet. He would’ve given her all his money if she’d asked.’

‘I would not!’ Draco cried out. ‘Now can we please change the subject?’

You chuckled at Draco’s exasperated face and looked past him at Blaise. He was watching you with a small smile and you felt butterflies erupting in your stomach. Quickly you turned away and stared at the pavement tiles under your feet.

‘So now we’re competing against each other?’ Pansy asked and you nodded. ‘That’s gonna be fun. We’re gonna demolish you guys.’

- - - - - - - 

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MASTERLIST

#summer games #rach's1kcelebration #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #blaise zabini imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #dm #pp #bz #blaise zabini x y/n #blaise x reader

[script-nef]

Presents (and other things)

Category: fluff

2k words; Shopping date [3/6]

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

Out of everyone in the whole world, the person you love most in the world is Nanami Kento, your brother. He was the one who saved you from the cursed spirit that haunted you and took your parents’ lives. He was the one who took you in so that you wouldn’t be put in the system since you were still a minor. He made sure every day that you were safe and healthy even if he was injured or exhausted after a fight.

That's why in the weeks nearing his birthday, you made sure that he would have a relaxing time. He said you didn’t have to and he’d rather have you not fret over him, but that is unacceptable. He needs to have a good birthday. If you could, you would make the whole month just about him. But the last time you tried that he sat you down for a long, scolding lecture about how it’s unnecessary. So that’s out of the option.

Right now, just a few days shy of his actual birthday, you have a problem. Because you were buried in work and have a terrible memory.

His present.

You forgot to buy a present. 

“I forgot to buy a present! Why am I so dumb… Why am I like this, Gojou? It’s literally one of the most important things with birthdays and I forgot it. Because I’m an idiot. I wish the ground would swallow me up… I deserve it…” Thuds reverberate through the room as your head makes contact with the table. Repeatedly. Hard.

Wallowing in self-hate is great but your brain starts spitting out all viable present options. 

Shopping for Ken-chan is hard because he’s not materialistic in the least. He also doesn’t have a lot of hobbies. “I don’t need presents.” is a regular phrase every time his birthday or holidays come up, but then he gives presents to you and you end up feeling worse. This is all while your brain is getting thrown around. 

A hand comes between your forehead and the desk, gently bringing it up. Gojou has a small pout as his cold fingers try to soothe the burning sensation. 

“You still have a couple of days left! Don’t bang your head against the table, your brain doesn’t work enough as it is.” He easily moves out away from your slap. But returns in time to stop your head from falling again.

“I should have remembered this weeks ago. There’s no use trying to make me feel better, Gojou. I’m a terrible sister. I deserve this pain.” His fingers poke against your cheeks and he smooshes and stretches them. It’s uncomfortable but you let him.

“I haven’t bought a present either.”

“You’ve never given him a present.”

“This is the year to start! I have to get on his good side!” That’s weird since he never cared about what Ken-chan thought of him.

 “Why?”

“We can shop together!” Classic ignoring. His face comes to level with yours. “Let’s go to Shinjuku, I’m sure there are things even Nanami will like. Also, I found a new sweets shop.” You stare at him. “But I will focus on the present for today! C’mon, I can fly us there. You’ve never flown before, right? I think it’ll help.”

For some inexplicable reason, floating in mid-air with nothing to save you other than Gojou is amazing. Adrenaline pumps through your veins at the thought of crashing down to Earth if Gojou lets go. You know he won’t though. 

The air is chilly up here and there’s constant wind makes your hair whip everywhere, getting in your mouth and eyes. It doesn’t dampen your mood.

Your arms tighten around Gojou’s neck, watching the city blink with life way underneath your feet. Well, his feet, since you’re bunched up in his embrace. 

“This is so cool! Do you do this every day?”

“Yup.” He pops the p and slowly walks closer to your destination. The world looks like a child’s playhouse. 

“No wonder you’re constantly in an amazing mood! I would do this every time I’m feeling down!” Gojou’s chuckle reverberates through his chest and into your body. 

“I can take you out again when you’re sad.” A buzz takes over your body at the thought sparkles come to life in your wide eyes.

“You would do that for me?” Gojou is an incredibly important asset and therefore also very busy, needing to take care of special-grade curses that others can’t while also teaching and looking after his three students. He couldn’t be at your beck and call, you can’t ask that from him. But the gentle smile he gives is so warm and sure, assuring you that his words are true.

“Of course I would. Any day.” His grip around your body tightens.

Something weird fuzzes in your chest. It’s not uncomfortable or bad but… unique. And foreign. You got a good report back from your physical evaluation last month so it’s not something physical. Questions about what the cause could be takes over your mind but the sudden sensation of zero gravity makes all of them fly out the window. Burying your face into Gojou’s neck, you prepare for the worst.

“And we have arrived! M’lady.” Chipper as ever, Gojou’s feet touch the ground with a light plop and he lets you down gently. You look at him in confusion until realisation kicks in. And you kick him.

“Don’t do that! I think my heart stopped!” He cackles at that, finishing with a “Won’t do it next time.” If there is a next time. The probability is reduced significantly because of what he just did. 

Taking your hand in his, he escorts you down the stairs from the rooftop and into a department store. The people who couldn’t see mere moments ago high up in the sky.

As expected, it’s loud and crowded. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of people shuffling about and sweeping everyone to move even if they wanted to. It’s fortunate that Gojou has a firm grip on your hand because otherwise you’d be completely lost. Still, it’s nice to be buried in the commotion of everyday lives. It helps you forget about the whole war that’s looming over everyone.

“Any ideas on what to get?” The question you’ve been asking yourself for the past hour or so is echoed by Gojou. “We have all the time in the world, so don’t worry. I’ll keep you company for as long as you want.” 

Blisters form on the back of your feet thanks to the amount of times you walked around the huge place. Gojou bought you bandaids even though you said Shouko can fix you up. It hurts a lot less thanks to that. Finding a present is still a challenge. Every time you think you have one, your brain comes up with a rebuttal for why Ken-chan won’t like it. Two hours and nothing to show for it, you’re on the verge of collapse. Even a quick snack break didn’t help.

Gojou sets you down on a bench, letting your head roll on the backrest. The sight of thousands of coats and jackets running around upside down makes you giggle. Maybe the stress is finally getting to your head. The mantra of “I’m a terrible sister” tries to sneak in and wreak havoc. You’re just about to let it when the upside-down brand of a designer clothing shop catches your attention. 

“Gojou.”

“Yup?” His head comes into view as he copies your posture. It must look really weird to passersby but you don’t care at all. “Got an idea?” You point to the brand. Or at least you think you do. The lack of blood in your brain is making everything dizzy. “Clothes?”

“I wanna buy him a good suit.” Standing up, swaying a little from the sudden oxygen influx, you try to drag him towards the shop. He tries to make your attempt harder by using his weight and height, but a firm glare makes him concede.

“I thought he said he doesn’t want suits.” Oh yeah, you told him that when it was rejected. Ken-chan did say that, years ago, when you bought him one for your first present. While incredibly appreciated, he reasoned that there is a high chance of it being ruined since he has to fight in them. And this was around the time when you started getting paid. It was his way of saying that you should invest it in something more durable and preferably for yourself. How does Gojou remember this when it was just a fleeting complaint that you barely remember?

“He said it’s because there’s no point in spending so much money on something that might be damaged so quickly. But I’m going to buy it for a different reason.”

Collections of suits, varied by colour and pattern, line the huge shop. Skimming over a lot of them, especially ones with questionable designs, you turn to the monochromatic area. Simple is best when it comes to Ken-chan’s taste. Shuffling through the shades, you contemplate between either beige or blue.

“What’s the reason?” Gojou’s voice calls from the change room. You wonder when he got there. 

“For him to wear it if he goes back to work in an office after the war has ended. Or just when he goes out, without the worry of getting attacked and ruined. It’ll be like a promise! That he’ll do his best to survive the war to wear it.” 

Gojou is silent in response. It drags out and now you’re sort of embarrassed about what you said. Your partner loves taking advantage of others’ sappy moments, teasing them mercilessly over it. That little speech is basically perfect ammunition against you. You expect his high voice to make fun of you.

What you don’t expect is for him to pat your head, slowly and softly, like he won’t ever get to do it again.

“Nanami must have used all his luck when he became your guardian.” Voice low, bringing shivers down your body, he cards his fingers through your hair. Like he’s combing them. Seconds tick by and it feels sort of nice, telling you to relax, but your body’s on high alert for some reason.

“I think he’d like the blue one. Since he already has a brown suit, beige is too close.” A black suit adorns his body when he comes into view. Even the shirt is black. It fits him perfectly and he looks really good in it, courtesy of a good body proportion. He could possibly pull off the hideous suits you elected to shy away from at the front of the display. You clear your throat.

“Wow, you look really good in that.” His hands smooth down the creases on the jacket, preening at your compliment. “You should buy that. Wear it to dates or whatever. Ladies will fall to your feet if you show up with that.” Holding up two blue suits, your eyes scrutinize them and you try to imagine which shade will look better on your brother.

“Ladies will fall to my feet? Really?” Amusement tinges his words. The left one looks better.

“Yeah, probably. Girls love guys in suits. Well at least, I do. If they wear the right one for them, it’s really hot. Left one is better, right?” He gives a nod, a wide grin playing on his face. “Alright, this one then. Are you buying the suit?”

“Yeah. I think it’ll be put to good use.”

The checkout is quick, and it’s night when you step out. 

“You wanna go back by flying? We can try doing the Howl thing.” That’s really tempting, being able to reenact one of the most iconic scenes in the movie. But not today. 

“No, I prefer being in your arms.” Gojou stares at you with such intensity that you can feel it even with the blindfold. Then he immediately barks out a laugh, one so loud that people nearby flinch at the sudden noise. You flinch at the sudden noise.

“Ah… You really keep me on my toes, you know.” Before you can ask what that means, he takes your hand again and starts walking to the stairs. His steps are faster than usual.

Next chapter →

#gojou x reader #gojou imagine #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru imagine #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojou #gojou satoru #fluff #series #female reader

[thorniest-rose]

I'm so torn about where I want Daniel and Silver's reunion to take place. Do I want it back at Miyagi-do for the parallels to their first meeting, with Silver's appearance poisoning this place of safety for Daniel once again? Maybe Silver makes a nod to a detail of the house he would only know if he's ever been inside (Daniel and Miyagi never find out about the break-in!), which flares up Daniel's paranoia exponentially. Or do I want it at the country club, a place where Daniel thinks he has "earned" his way in with his money and charm, having grown past that initial teenage humiliation? That all falls away though when Silver, similarly armed, waltzes in and turns the crowd there into his weapons ("Oh Mr. Silver you are so funny!" "You know karate too Mr. Silver? Well I'm sure you would have a lot to talk about with Daniel LaRusso!"). Daniel trying his best to find a lull in the conversation so he can sprint to the bathroom to have a panic attack in peace. I guess I just want to see Daniel's sense of safety be rattled and how he ends up dealing with that.

Oh wow, I absolutely loved reading this, and it's so well thought out too! I'm also really intrigued how they'll introduce Silver in S4. The CK writers love making call-backs and mirroring events from the films, so I wouldn't be surprised if Silver was introduced in a similar way. Silver's interesting because he has moments in the film where he's clownish and over the top, and then moments where he's genuinely unsettling and quietly insidious, and it's hard to know which side of him the CK writers will lean into more.

If it's the latter (which I'm hoping), I'd love to see him introduced in a way that truly rattles Daniel, like you said. Silver so obviously loved messing with Daniel's head and his sense of equilibrium in KK3, so I'd love to see him turn up somewhere where Daniel least expects him. I can see him stalking Daniel like he did in the film, or having his henchmen do it for him: to study him, his patterns, his family life, where he goes, and then plan accordingly. You're so right that Daniel never found out about Silver's break-in, which is kinda chilling. It would be horrible to see him spying on Daniel again, because it destroys the perception of the home as a haven. Silver would love the thought of taking that away from Daniel, and to taint every space that Daniel believes to be safe.

Ugh god, but now you've said the thing about the country club, that keeps going around in my head. I've always loved the reading of CK Daniel as a man who has faked it to the top. Someone who denies his working class roots and has bought his way into high society. But it's just a mask, a cover for who he really is. Which is also why he wears clothes that are too big for him, it's to hide how small he really is. How vulnerable. Having Silver snake his way into a setting like that would shatter the illusion for Daniel. It would be like Silver saying, "You can pretend, but I know who you really are. You're still that scared, scrappy New Jersey boy who was so starved for love you fell into the lap of every man who showed you a bit of attention."

If Daniel saw Silver somewhere like the country club, he'd have to try to keep things together in front of his family and his friends. Which Silver would love. He's such a sadist, so he'd really get a kick out of seeing Daniel suffer like that. Ah, and the thought of Daniel having to get away to find an empty room and suffer through a panic attack makes me ache! I do wonder if the show will tackle anything like that, like remnants of PTSD that cling to Daniel because of what Silver did to him. And if there'll be a tangible reaction when Daniel sees him again for the first time. Like I want Daniel to be hit with it, to have such a visceral reaction when he sees Silver and hears his voice that he feels physically sick. I want to see the damage that he's tried to hide over the years rush to the surface like blood under a bandage.

I also can't wait to see how Silver talks to Daniel when they're alone. The marketing today seemed to lean heavily into BDSM imagery and language (whether intentional or not), so imagine when they're alone for the first time, if Silver tells Daniel to call him sir, and taunts him with the things he taught Daniel when he was a teenager. When their clandestine relationship played out in the shadows of the Cobra Kai dojo. I can't wait to see if he does things like that, and also see how Daniel will react. I guess what I want is a small sliver of a psychosexual dynamic. If CK gives me that, I'll be happy.

#asks #terry silver #cobra kai #i really loved reading this so thank you for sending it to me!

[variousqueerthings]

Tom Hardy Movies rated least to most queer

I made a list of some Tom Hardy movies and I rated them based on my own, non-specific criteria about what makes a movie queer. Results below the cut.

(Some films not included, because I haven’t watched them yet, because Mr Hardy’s only in them for a few minutes, because the subject matter doesn’t lend itself to this list, or because I just don’t want’em here. TV series also not included. The list is organised into both groups and ratings, because I’m doing The Most.)

Movies are divided into four groups and rated from 0 – 10 on the Queer-Scale, scroll down to the bottom if you want the ratings without the commentary.

Disclaimer: This list is subjective. Don’t come at me because I didn’t rate Inception higher, Nolan himself is as queer as cargo shorts. 

1. This movie would make more sense if it were queer

If this movie were queer it… might not become a perfect film all of a sudden, but it’d make a hell of a lot more sense than what’s actually going on. With an occasional dose of “are the cis-straights okay?”

This Means War (2012): So Chris Pine and Tom Hardy are ostensibly both in love with Reese Witherspoon, but say “I love you” to each other pretty much constantly throughout the movie and their friendship is often presented as a domestic partnership. Cool, cool, cooool.

Queer Rating: 2 out of 10. This movie hate-crimed me by having Tom Hardy literally spell out his relationship with Chris Pine, only for the script to then have him say… “can you imagine all that… but with a woman…” Later on the movie explicitly denies polyamory is possible. Fuck this film.

The Dark Knight Rises (2012): Batman movies should always be queer. Mr. Hardy’s the only one who acceptably camps it up, despite Nolan’s best attempts to make him “acceptably gruff.” No matter what you do, Bane is a massive daddy in a mask and thanks to Mr Hardy’s honestly iconic fucking speech pattern in this film, it goes from pretty atrociously straight to just queer enough to imagine a future where Robert Pattinson plays batman and maybe adopts a bunch of kids.

(the only truly decent mask in this franchise tbh)

Queer Rating: 3 out of 10. Mr Hardy’s back is the one that’s actually broken carrying any semblance of fun in this overly long movie all on his own.

Lawless (2012): Wow, this really was the year of the not-queer-enough, wasn’t it? Look, it’s “based on a real story,” but it’s also a movie and movies don’t need to stick to the truth, and this one certainly doesn’t. Was the guy queer in real life? I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that it’s just kind of an eh movie and maybe being queer would add something to it. One of those “but why make someone queer? because it’s always more interesting to do so,” movies.

Queer Rating: 3 out of 10. It’s just not queer. But Tom Hardy wears cardigans and described his character as a “mother figure,” which adds an interesting dynamic to him.

2. Actually Queer but in a homophobic way

Tom Hardy plays a canonically queer character, yaaay. The whole movie contains a strange sense of the director being too not-queer to actually engage with that and everything around him is almost aggressively straight, noooo.

RocknRolla (2008): Honestly this movie has the funniest coming out scene ever + that familiar undertone of “all these manly men secretly want to fuck each other” is only heightened by one of them actually being gay and in love with his best friend. It’s such a fucking… it’s such a movie. Personally I find Mark Strong, Idris Elba, Thandie Newton, and, of course, Tom Hardy to be really hot in it, so that’s a plus. There’s a scene in which Strong’s character teaches another gangster how to do a proper backhand. It’s really gay of him. Also slow-dancing at a gay club. Butler’s character needs to get himself together, you really don’t think 2008 Tom Hardy is hot? Mate.

(left to right: functional queer, disaster queer, distinguished queer)

Queer Rating: 6 out of 10, for having an actual gay character who is played by Tom Hardy doing a sexy phonecall voice to another guy, but then there’s that feeling you can’t shake that the whole movie is vaguely uncomfortable about it, like a family member awkwardly patting you on the shoulder after they found out you were queer second-hand, but they’ve still got 50 years of bias to unlearn. Also Thandie Newton is killed, fuck that noise. 

Legend (2015): If I had a nickle for the amount of times Tom Hardy’s played a gay gangster, I’d have two nickles. Which isn’t a lot, but weird that it happened twice (looks at Peaky Blinders and thinks it ought to be three times). I’ve watched Legend three times and every time it just… loses me. And because this is a biased list, I’ll only specifically mention that it fails to make Ron’s queerness anything but a way for him to shock others. Gangsters could be gay? Gasp! On the upside Tom Hardy has so much sexual tension with everyone in this movie, including himself (why would you do that? Asks Ron, bemused. Because I can’t kill you, no matter how much I fucking want to, hisses a blood-soaked Reggie right into his ear. It’s hot).

Queer rating: 5 out of 10 because the film is just not very queer for a movie with several queer men in it.

3. Straight as a forced family dinner

It’s straight.

Locke (2013): He’s a married man who had an affair and trying to deal with the fallout of it. This isn’t a spoiler for most of the movie, it’s a pretty neat movie where we look at Tom Hardy having a bit of a mental breakdown and taking lots of phonecalls (my personal hell). Is it queer? Not in the slightest.

Queer Rating: 2 out of 10 for Hardy’s face being in almost every shot.

The Revenant (2015): Yeah, yeah, DeCaprio’s and Hardy’s characters are obsessed with each other, yeah it’s a man’s world where the only women are dead wife, kidnapped sexually assaulted native princess, or background whore, yeah, they fight each other and there’s a ton of grunting, but also… I just fucking don’t like this movie. The thin line where a storyline like this one becomes queer might be crossed for others, but not for me. Fuck these guys and their stupid  bear fights.

Queer rating: 3 out of 10 for it being about dirty men in the middle of nowhere (but you could just watch Brokeback Mountain or The Lighthouse or God’s Own Country or any Mad Max, or, or, or…)

4. Queer? Queer. Queer? … Queer…

The plots, aesthetics and/or characters played by Tom Hardy lend themselves to a queer reading, even if there is no overt intention towards queerness. Often this is because of a deliberate lack of heterosexual and/or cisgender writing, which in this day and age is still pretty uncommon not to include within a plot.

Inception (2010): Okay, I don’t even need to write about the added “darling,” or the “go to sleep Mr Eames.” I don’t need to go on about the absolutely bonkers amount of fanfiction written for Eames and Arthur, based on a few minutes of film and a boatload of chemistry. It’s queer.

Queer Rating: 7 out of 10, because the actual plot of the film isn’t very queer, but between the Arthur/Eames dynamic and Elliot Page, Nolan was really given a gift he didn’t deserve.

Warrior (2011): Okay, so first off, this might be my favourite Tom Hardy film, at least some part of my brain is fixated on it at almost all times and I’m considering watching it for the third time in two weeks. I don’t only consider it queer based on Mr. Hardy’s character, although he has no romantic or sexual interest and could be read as aroace, but because of the themes, especially those surrounding said character, who is coded as a caregiver to women and through close emotional connections to men. It’s got possibly unintentional deconstructions of masculinity and two men (brothers) who need to forgive each other and can only do so through the catharsis of violence. It speaks to me as a transmasc with several cis brothers, struggling with my own masculinity. It’s not at all written for me, but I find myself all over it. I could talk about this movie forever.

Queer Rating: 8 out of 10. I’m not allowed to say any more or I’ll never stop writing about it. I love you Tommy…

The Drop (2014): Bob’s lack of sexual and/or romantic interest in Naomi is so strange to her that she doesn’t know what he would want from her otherwise. Bob really just wants to raise a dog with her (and also forgiveness for past sins). Bob is such a rare ace and possibly aro coded character, it really throws me every time I watch this film how obvious it is. Bonus points for also being autistic-coded and not in the stereotypical ways.

(Tom Hardy’s most challenging role: pretending he doesn’t know dogs)

Queer Rating: 9 out of 10 because it’s so fucking rare to see ace and aro coded characters that aren’t, you know…. serial killers. Also Tom Hardy adopts a puppy and has a very cute, kinda lispy voice. How often does Tom Hardy play softer men like this?

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015): Very deliberately no sexual or romantic writing included in Max’s and Furiosa’s relationship. Sure, there’s not a lot of time for that in the post-apocalyptic wasteland, but it was also done with a purpose! “It was always going to be two warriors on par, starting off with very little respect for each other and ending up with a massive respect for each other.” - Charlize Theron. “So of course they meet, of course there’s a relationship, an unspoken understanding. A recognition.” - Tom Hardy.

Queer Rating: 9 out of 10. It’s not just the characters, but the world and it’s apocalyptic BDSM leather scene, the questions it asks about sustainability and about people as tools, and the found family. It’s about overcoming violence through multiple kinds of love. And it’s about watching a guy playing flame-thrower guitar. What could be queerer?

Venom (2018): Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same… No, but Eddie is queer. The only question is whether the sequel will acknowledge that aspect or not, but even if not. Even if it manages to straightly bypass the reality of a symbiotic relationship with a genderless? genderfluid? being from another world that is linked to you down to your very cells and understands you more intimately than any other person possibly could… even if all that: Eddie is queer. Venom and Eddie are in a relationship. Any relationship Eddie ever enters into will automatically become a thrupple. He makes out with Venom in the movie! Eddie is queer.

(aw yeah that tongue is going down his throat)

Queer Rating: 9.5 out of 10, because it’s still coded by the creators in the language of bromance (hey, bro, is it gay if we’re physically and emotionally closer than any other people on earth?), but the movie is so, so camp and Mr Hardy’s acting choices are beautiful – the screaming? The lispy soft voice and lack of taking up space? The lobster tank? The only people who don’t know how queer this is are the people making it apparently. Fingers crossed for that sequel!

Hon. mentions:

Star Trek: Nemesis (2002): Star Trek – even at it’s worst (especially at its worst?) – is camp af + Hardy is a straight-up baby in this film.

Bronson (2008): It’s about a real person who’s still alive, so I won’t comment on the actual man. However the film seems to code the character Bronson along an ace line and also has genderqueering Vaudeville. Someone let Tom Hardy do more of whatever was going on in those stage-bits.

(this right here: this the good shit)

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011): Another ensemble piece not massively about Hardy’s character, but it’s a movie that centers around queerness in a strange, depressing way. Tom Hardy’s character isn’t queer. Colin Firth and Mark Strong are though. The book makes me cry.

Peaky Blinders (2013-): Because it’s a TV series I left it out. There’s a lot of straight nonsense going on there, but Alfie Solomens is gay. There’s nothing in the series that disputes that and plenty that lends itself to the reading.

Dunkirk (2017): Tom Hardy plays an RAF pilot in a deep emotional connection with the other main RAF pilot. That’s immediately gay. However he’s not in the movie much because of the way it’s constructed, so I left it off.

Queer Ratings (least to most)

No queer to be found here traveller:

This Means War: 2 out of 10 - illegal movie, Tom Hardy swore he wouldn’t do another rom-com after

Locke: 2 out of 10 - straight Welshman and his straight problems. He pretty though

Lawless: 3 out of 10 - cardigan-Hardy being a mother-hen, but very straight for all that

The Dark Knight Rises: 3 out of 10 - a superhero movie that doesn’t deserve Mr Hardy’s camp talents (unlike Venom)

The Revenant: 3 out of 10 - doesn’t give me what I want out of a movie full of dirty, bearded men

Queer but we deserve more:

Legend: 5 out of 10 - timid homosexuality, considering the source material. 

RocknRolla: 6 out of 10 - hey bro, is it gay if we kill the only female lead in our massive ensemble cast

The queerest of Hardy’s:

Inception: 7 out of 10 - Elliot Page and JGL kissing was an all-around terrible choice that made no sense, we know the truth, Nolan

Warrior: 8 out of 10 - I’m still crying, Edgerton’s crying, Hardy’s crying, we’re all crying, and I think that’s really emotionally healthy and queer of us

Mad Max: Fury Road: 9 out of 10 - non-romantic love in the time of BDSM post-apocalyptic wastelands is something that can actually be so personal

The Drop: 9 out of 10 - “Fucking punk. Go out to dinner dressed like you're still in you living room! You wear those big hippity-hoppity clown shoes! You speak to women terribly! You treat them despicably! You hurt harmless dogs that can't defend themselves! I'm tired of you man. I'm tired of you. You embarrass me!”

Venom: 9.5 out of 10 - Sometimes a relationship is an anxious reporter, the sentient goo inhabiting his body, his kinda-ex-girlfriend and her new doctor boyfriend, and I think that’s beautiful

#tom hardy #mad max: fury road #venom 2018 #inception #rocknrolla #warrior 2011 #legend 2015 #the drop 2014 #the revenant #the dark knight rises #lawless 2012 #locke #this means war

[charliedawn]

Pennywise 1990 X Reader X Pennywise 2017 "The Joke's On You" part 1

Part 2: https://charliedawn.tumblr.com/post/648205835225415680/the-jokes-on-them-part-2

"Ssssooooo..Why clowns ?"

Both of them look at you with a frown of incomprehension on their faces..

" Because of the fear."

They answer at the same time. Funny, its the first time you see them act so..alike. You mean, of course, they are big scary child-eating monsters..But they never seemed to be agreeing on anything, so when you ask the question, their looks and answers are so similar that it makes you think of another question.

" Also..Are you like brothers or something ? Related ? Father and son, or that can't happen with your kind ? You just eat children and do not produce them ?"

Penny, the tall ginger clown only crouches like a frog while the other one only looks at him with disgust.

" Yeah..Right..As if I would ever be related to that one..Nah. We're just hunting together now..Normally, he would not wake up at the same time as me, so we wouldn't really meet. But the idiot messed up his schedule while overstaying in order to kill some dumb kids and he woke up the same time I did !"

He glares at Penny who doesn't seem concerned at all by the way the other one is describing the situation. Even though it's quite offensive..The older one continues and looks at me with a repulsive snare at the idea.

" We don't produce children. Although, we never tried. We are mostly made of pure fear materialized only by the decaying flesh of our victims..We're supposed to be impossible to kill and we don't even know when we were born nor where. But, I remember that the first time I saw a human, many centuries ago, people mostly called us "Wendigos".."

You open your eyes wide in surprise at the news.

"Wendigos ?! So, that means you were humans before ?!"

The young one snickers and his yellow eyes glare at me.

" Humans ?! Ah ! What a joke ! They cry, love, betray, they only crawl on an endless path until they become old, ugly and die. This is why we eat them..They are of no use..They are dancing on a ball of dirt that they squeezed so much that it has no more to give..And you know what is the most ironic ? Is that they prefer to blind themselves more than face the truth..There is no beauty or originality in humans..Doves fly, dogs bark, dears run and even dolphins are more intelligent than you..Now tell me, why would the world need you, when we have the exact same talents in every animal that comes with the letter D ? I didn't even have to go out of my favorite letter to find every good thing you've ever done in animals that are not destroying their own habitat. What makes you so special ? What makes you think that you deserve living when all you do is destroy and hide the truth ?!"

It is the most you have ever heard Penny speak and even Pennywise seems shocked by his sudden outburst. Penny is so close to you that you can see his anger reflecting in his eyes. You try to not let fear show but, it's hard. You gulp and look at the ground in shame. He was right..What did you bring that no other living being ever did ? Humans were parasites and he smirks before returning at his crouching position.

" That's what I thought."

He whispers and Pennywise smiles almost proudly before hitting him in the back a little too hard since Penny growls.

" Wow. Didn't know you had it in you ! In all honesty, I never even thought about why I eat humans..I mean, we both know that human and animal food taste the same..But, for some reason, I always hated humans..Never really knew why and never cared enough to ask !"

He answers with a grin.

You frown then gasp in horror which both of them seem to notice since they turn their heads towards you in frightening synchronization.

" Wait ! Does that mean..You chose to eat humans ?! That you can perfectly live without their meat and just eat like normal people?!"

Pennywise answers with a grin.

" Come on..You should have figured it out by now..We don't really care about what we're eating, as long as it has flesh and fear : which animals and humans both have in common. But, as he said before, why choose them over you ?"

He looks at you up and down before adding with a large grin.

" Now that I think about it, if it wasn't for your rare quality of blood, you would already be a past meal.."

You shiver and he bursts out laughing.

Yeah..You remember..The only thing that kept you alive was you blood type..O- was, from what you had understood, sweeter ? Like some kind of cake or candy..This is why they wanted to keep you alive.."Saving best for last" as they had said.

Ah ! How lucky am I ?! You think.

You sigh and turn the other way to face anything else but the two clowns. At that moment, your foot hits something. You look down at the ground and are surprised to see some pencils. You glance behind you, but the other two don't seem to care about you anymore..for now. You get the pencils and look around for a surface to try them on and when you've finally decided, you walk towards it. You stop and close your eyes to visualise what you want to draw..Then, inspiration hits you and it's like your hands are dancing on the hard surface. You're so concentrated that you don't even notice the two creatures stopping whatever they were doing to look at you with confusion written all over their faces. You continue and seconds, minutes, hours pass. The two clowns, curious of what you are doing, now stand next to you silently, as to not break your concentration. They just look at your drawing from each side of you, their eyes wide, surprised and unable to find words to describe it. You are breathless, exhausted, but don't want to stop. If it was the last thing you would do, then let it be beautiful..Even if the only living things that would ever see it would be two nightmarish clowns that didn't give two shits about art or expression of oneself. When you finish, you are surprised to find two gloved hands on you drawing..You look at each side of yourself and see the two clowns, weirdly still and their eyes glued to your work. For a moment, you almost laugh at their, surprisingly, childish faces. They look like your young Art and Crafts students that you teach, always awed by whatever you would do.

But, what makes you smile the most, is that the first reaction they had was to touch it with their hands, as if the drawing had called them in. You sometimes had students like that, that could only understand Art by touching it. This is why whenever you would bring one of your works, you told the kids to do the first thing that came to their mind with it (as long as it wasn't tearing it apart or painting on it of course) Everyone had different reactions. Some liked to look from a far, some liked a closer angle and, as you had witnessed, some preferred touching it..But, what surprises you next is your own reaction. You grab one of the pencils and trace the shadow of your own hand on your drawing, as a proof. Then, you gently take Penny's hand that looks almost frightened by your touch, but he lets you hold onto his hand and do the same thing that you just did with your own. He giggles slightly as the pencil lightly "tickles" him and, to your surprise, his claws get out. He wants to retract them, nearly in shame, but you make it clear that it doesn't bother you while tracing the contour of his claws as well. When you are finished with him, you turn towards the older one that had already taken his hand off with a snicker.

" If it is a trick to impress us, it will not work, your hocus-pocus will not stop us from eating you..Anyway, I'm sure you have a knife hidden somewhere and only wait for me to let my guard down to stab me in the back."

You only answer with a sad smile of silent resolve while reaching for his hand.

" No trick. No hocus-pocus. No knife. Only me, your hand and a way to make you remember that, for a minute, I managed to make you feel something else than anger, hate or hurt.."

He frowns, visibly hesitant, before finally giving in with a childish grumble.

You finally trace his fingers on your colorful drawing, mixing the color of the rainbow and the greyish color that composed the colors of their suits. And, at the middle, all those colors forming one gigantic tree, that tree being your own personal touch..A tree that, maybe, will learn Penny that, even though humans destroy, they also create and Pennywise that, even though he lost any hopes concerning humanity, the particularity of the humans, the thing that makes them truly special are their hope. Because, even if animals are better than you in every aspect, they do not hope..And they do not have the imagination to create any other outcomes than eat or be eaten. This is maybe why the two clowns seem much more appreciative of those creatures than the humans ? Because they are much easier to understand ? You smile proudly at your little discovery. Like this tree, humans are made of so many different colors that it is difficult to find a pattern..Both of them said that they hated Humanity, but if it is true then..

" I may have understood why you chose to be clowns.."

They turn towards you : Penny with a side smile and Pennywise with an arked eyebrow.

" Oh ? And why is that ? You're gonna tell us that it's because we liked making people laugh when we were "humans" ?!"

The older one says, putting humans between brackets mockingly while the other one is cackling behind him. You smile again and shake your head while they come down to a sitting position; one on his favorite worn out leather chair and the other one on the dirty floor. They both look up at you expectantly, as if they are expecting you to read them a bedtime story..

" Well..I don't think it is about the form in itself, it is more about the colors and the fact that it symbolizes things that you never had when you were "humans".."

You say between brackets as to imitate Pennywise that is looking at you with another one of his signature mocking smile.

" What are you talking about ?! I am funny ! The funniest in town if you ask me !"

He says proudly, while Penny only rolls his eyes at his comment.

You shake your head again with a smile and even answer with a little laugh.

" No. Not that. You feed only from fear..Correct ?"

They both nod in unison and then, you ask a question that they had never even asked themselves before.

" Why only fear ?"

They want to answer that it is obvious, that it is stupid to even ask. But they have to admit it at the end, they do not know themselves. After a while, you answer for them.

" You do not feed on fear. But on faith."

They frown and Pennywise asks, confused.

" What do you mean ?"

You try to find words to explain your thinking and finally sigh, as it is no easy task.

" You feed on the only thing that you do not have, and that humans are the only ones to possess..Our faith and beliefs. We believe that there are monsters under our beds, then you take their appearance. In fact, I don't even know if you can transform in anything else than scary things, can you ?"

They look at each other before looking back at you and Penny is the first one to answer you.

" We never tried..and what for even ?"

You smile and get up, dusting your knees.

" Humans are afraid, but what they fear the most is losing their most cherished things. Try with me. Try to guess my most cherished thing on Earth.."

The two clowns seem interested by the idea and you can feel them trying to find your most precious memories. They already know your biggest fear..And in all honesty, after having seen it so many times, you aren't that scared of insects anymore. Now, let's see if they are as powerful as they say they are..

Penny transforms into a puppy and you smile tenderly while extending your arms in order to take him in your arms. But then, another head appears, then another, then another..

He returns to his normal appearance, almost as out of breath as you were before.

" I..I can't..stay in this form very long."

You nod understandingly and then, turn towards the oldest that only shrugs at the odd reaction of the young one. Pennywise seems to look at you with a little bit more seriousness, his hand scratching his chin in silent observation. You know that he is trying to figure you out and is taking the dare to heart. And, suddenly, his smile widens and his eyes brighten as he has a sudden epiphany and you frown in worry. What did he see ? Suddenly, he gets up and slowly walks towards you with a weird crooked smile, looking more smug than usual.

" If I have learned something about your kind is that you have one thing that you always bring up.."

You frown in incomprehension, what does he mean ? Suddenly, Penny smiles creepily and you shiver, he must have understood some kind of hidden message because you sure as hell didn't get the memo ! You smile awkwardly, your pulse racing and cold sweat start to form on your skin. Whatever he has in mind..You sure as Hell didn't know what it is, and that scares you more than anything..Pennywise backs you up against the wall of your drawing and smirks.

" I..I think we played enough..I'm tired..We can maybe continue tomorrow..?"

You ask, your heartbeats quickening and both clowns looking at you with bright yellow eyes. However, suddenly, both of them shout at the same time.

" Money !"

" Food !"

You open your eyes wide at Pennywise that gets out some coins from his pocket and you then turn towards Penny that just shouted food like it was some kind of good answer at a test. Tears start building up at the corner of your eyes and you sigh in relief before biting your lips shut, trying to contain your laughter.

Penny frowns at your expression and says in a small, almost childish, voice.

" Wasn't the point of the game to say one of the things you cherish the most ? Don't you cherish food ? Why are you crying ? Did I win ?!"

Suddenly, you start laughing uncontrollably and Pennywise answers him in a really angry voice.

" No! You didn't, big dummy! The game was transform, not yelling the answer at the top of you lungs like an idiot!"

Penny frowns and crosses his arms while pouting. But you answer through each giggle.

" You're wrong! Both of you!"

They look at you with wide eyes before growling.

" Then, what is the answer ?! "

Pennywise yells, frustrated and you answer.

" Love ! We value love ! Family, friends.."

Penny frowns and scoffs.

" Well, you're funny ! How do you transform into something you don't even know ?!"

You gasp, this is why he couldn't stay in the form of a puppy ! He didn't know how they truly acted towards affection ! You could have almost felt sorry for them if it didn't mean alerting their fear senses for food..But, you could try to find a way to get them to learn more about the true meaning of love. 

Pennywise lets you go and sighs in defeat while turning towards Penny.

" Boy ! You don't have to transform into love ! You just had to take the appearance of something she wanted to love, dumbass ! Like I don't know, a human she know ?!"

You suddenly open your arms wide and they both look at you with widened eyes.

" What the heck are you doing ?"

Pennywise asks with a scowl and Penny only frowns, his eyes diverting on strange angles. You try not to think about the fact that you're going to try to hug two interdimensional demons and just wrap your arms around them. At first, you really thought one of them was going to shred you to pieces, but they become as still as statues.

" This is what humans call a hug. It's super effective and it is the first thing in affection."

Penny is still as a rock, and you even ask yourself if he is even breathing..Before remembering that he surely doesn't even have a heart. Pennywise is the first one to move and gets you off harshly. His eyes are of a wild red color and he looks in pain. He clutches his heart and growls animalistically at you. He then runs towards the exit and glances at you one last time.

" I am hungry. I'm going hunting..Penny, keep an eye on her ! If she even moves a muscle, eat her."

Penny seems to get back from his shock and only nods quietly.

When Pennywise is gone, your focus comes back on Penny that, you had noticed, had taken more distance between himself and you after your attempt at affection. As if he was..scared ? You try to approach him, talk or even apologize, but he only growls warningly at you and shows you his really sharp teethes..making you reconsider.

You tried to make them look at humanity from a different perspective, like at your drawing, but looks like nothing could be done..You'd die here. Anyway, the joke's on you since you were the one who thought you could change them..Silly you. Monsters will always remain monsters..Hope ? Who are you kidding ?! You lost that the moment you ended up in that damned sewer ! You start crying and, for some reason, your sobs catch the attention of Penny. He looks at you, then at his pile of toys, then back at you. He then begins climbing it and that makes you wonder what he is doing ? Is he leaving you ? Eat a rotten piece of child ? You have no time to wonder more as he quickly gets back on the ground and, with measured steps, approaches you with the same wariness as a wild animal. He then throws you something and gets back into his corner with a piece of a child's leg in his other hand.

He starts chomping on it and you look at what he threw at you..A music box ? You look at him quizzically and, after swallowing, he answers your silent question.

" Don't read anything into it. Your tears make me uncomfortable, so I got you something to keep you from doing that..If I eat you now, Pennywise would be angry at me for not sharing, and I have had enough of his loud voice for one day. Now, make this thing work. I want to listen to it, it has a nice sound and you have nothing else to do.."

You stay still for a moment before smiling softly at him.

" Sure..Thanks.."

You start playing the little music box and are surprised to see that it is the moonlight sonata of Beethoven..A beautiful music that invades the whole sewer with its melody echoing on the walls. You smile widely, at least something to remind you of the outside world.

Outside, Pennywise has his mind set on finding his next meal, but, suddenly stops in the forest and, weirdly enough, hears the song..Then, the pang in his chest that he felt before comes back and he can suddenly hear the words that an idiotic turtle called Maturin once told him before dying..

" Just because you bury something, that doesn’t mean it stops existing, Robert Gray. You can hide your heart, but someone will one day dig far enough to find it.."

Robert Gray..It had been such a long time that he had heard this name. At the time, he had only laughed mockingly at the old senile turtle..But now..Even Bob had felt it. No..Not Bob..Penny. They had chosen to never speak of those disgusting human names again. But then, she had showed up..They could eat her, never talk about it again, continue hunting children and living until the end of the world..She was human..They both knew that, she would grow old..tired..cumbersome and then die. But then, something else that the bothersome turtle had said comes back in his mind. One time, Pennywise had dared ask why the turtle loved humanity so much ? And he had answered something strange that Pennywise had not expected.

" Humanity has only scratched the surface of its real potential. Someday, you will understand why Humanity is so important, Robert.."

" My name is Pennywise ! The destroyer ! The eater of Worlds ! I have no sympathy for humans ! Whoever they are or whatever they do !"

He kept telling himself that, trying to convince himself but then..Why can't he believe his own words ? What was bothering him ?! Why did he feel this way after only talking for a few days to a simple human ?! Or..was it the tree ? The tree she had drawn ? Yes, there should have been some kind of trick behind it ?! She had tricked them as he had firstly assumed ! But then, why did he feel so out of control ? As if he was wrong ? Did the words of the turtle, for once, really made sense ? He closes his eyes and sighs before punching a tree and making it fall..No ! He wouldn't allow it ! He wouldn't allow the old turtle to make a fool out of him even after death ! He was going to kill her ! And that was a promise ! He was not going to let her question everything anymore ! He would shut her up ! No more idiotic questions: no more opportunities to manipulate his feelings ! Yes ! That would be it ! The idea of going hunting out of his head, he walks back to the sewer with a determined smirk. Yeah..We'll see who'll be the fool at the end..Maturin..

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