dimitri-blackwell - Tumblr blog

[dimitri-blackwell]

hakan & dimitri:

“Me neither.” Hakan admitted as he sat at the bar and gave Dimitri a nod to greet him. He only laughed at the joke because it was easier to and no amusement reached into his eyes. “Perfect, I’ve always liked my drinks without rat piss.” he replied. “You’ve been here a while now, yes?” he asked, mainly wondering if Dimitri could bring him up to speed on the things he had missed in the previous two years. Hakan always preferred to keep everything professional, he wasn’t there to make friends only to find out where money was disappearing to. “Talk to me, what fun has been happening?”

‘then you came to the right place.’ dimitri finalizes, ordering two beers with the bartender he waves over. ‘about a year, so i wouldn’t say i’m the best road map to read.’ he answers, watching hakan closely as he speaks. ‘fun? i don’t know if you can call it all fun.’ it’s an honest enough answer and dimitri isn’t trying to keep any information a secret, after all they’re technically from the same side but he feels more of a connection to the m.c than anybody else. ‘truce has pretty much been kept, until all the shit at the school. guess now it’s a waiting game until there’s a resolve.’ dimitri isn’t stupid, he knows there won’t be a stale mate for long and there will be a reaction. ‘all the kelly ties seem to have their hooks in pretty deep. why’d you get sent over here this time?’

[dimitri-blackwell]

santiago & dimitri

“Not sure it matters if you’re polite or not. That man’ll be proud of his shit-stirrers until the day he dies,” Santi chuckles, thinking that if only Ava was around to see her kids, she’d probably think so too. They were a strong bunch. “It’s a different animal in Lockwood, Blackwell, didn’t I give you enough of a warning before you decided to be an idiot and plant some roots?” He scoffs, pulling two cold beers from the fridge and hands one to Dimitri. He can’t say he’s disappointed his brother decided to settle in his hometown. Sure, Santi has family here, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world, but there’s something about going through hell that can be just as powerful as sharing blood. “Besides, if both Jones girls went to town on the fucker, you can bet they deserved it. Little Nora wouldn’t hurt a fly. I bet Elijah gets into his fair share of trouble, just knows better than to make a scene. Kinda like you,” he snorts, cracking open his can and taking a sip. 

‘i suppose we’d be the same if anybody said something about us.’ he chuckles, knowing the feeling of protectiveness and loyalty so there’s no judgement. even if the jones kids could run riot through the city if they chose to, dimitri knows better than to stop them. besides, it’s an amusing time at boots when they show up together like a gang within a gang. ‘i was brooklyn born and raised, silva. how the fuck was i supposed to take that seriously? quaint little city with trouble, figured it was you just being needy and wanting me around.’ he takes the beer as he chides his brother, toasting to him in the same motion too. ‘yeah i think they were bothering them. just two gals out on the town, punching guys in the dick. normal at boots.’ he’s seen a lot in the previous year and he’s sure there’s more to come. ‘how you feeling about little logan being back? not so little huh?’ he asks, feeling a reminder of his own son drifting through life without him. it doesn’t overshadow the happiness he feels on santi’s behalf, but it’s there.

[dimitri-blackwell]

del & dimitri

-

“Great, we got Mr. Funny guy over here.” Del scoffed, shoving her pale hands into her pockets as she eyed him. Who even was he? Some line-cook trying to be a smartass? Please. “Usually there’s no one back here, so yeah. I did like ‘em.” Del remarked, tilting their head slightly to watch him. “Do I look like someone who even has internet? Don’t just say yeah, actually look at me.” they jolted a pale finger to their face. “I look like I was born before electricity.” Del added. “You know what’s always been good for people? Shutting up.”

‘i’m glad you noticed.’ dimitri dazzles a smile followed by a lengthy nod at the self-proclaimed anti-social alley-dweller. ‘not a people person, huh? you must hate this then.’ he chides as his hand signals the space between them. he takes a sweeping look when she invites him to, laughing again at the abruptness before agreeing wholeheartedly. ‘look like you were born before a lotta things. fire. the wheel.’ he bares a grin and then slides his thumb and finger across his lips. ‘ohh gotcha, i’m talking too much, right? not been told that much, i have to say.’

[dimitri-blackwell]

JON BERNTHAL in THE PUNISHER (2017-2019)

[dimitri-blackwell]

some more bearded bernthal.

[dimitri-blackwell]

JON BERNTHAL as Shane Walsh in The Walking Dead - 1.06

[dimitri-blackwell]

del & dimitri

- 

Usually Del would be enjoying a sweet intoxication within the confines of The Phoenix, but they didn’t need Stevie’s watchful concern getting in their business. Or mentioning their drinking habits to Blaze, who’d then mention them to Millie. Every other bar Downtown seemed like dog shit in comparison to the dive bar Del preferred, so they ended up meandering through the alleyways. She didn’t even realize she was being spoken to, but stopped walking to glare at the man for a moment. “Me?” Del did a double take over their shoulder, wrinkling their nose. “I’m not fucking homeless, dickhead. I just wanted some fresh air.” Among trashcans and the backs of buildings. “Jesus. Can’t take a walk without someone wanting to tax you.”

dimitri looks over the stranger’s shoulder as they do, waiting for them to turn back to him before he responds. ‘nah, was talking to the walls.’ he replies in a dry tone, only smirking with one corner of his mouth. dimitri doesn’t express any reaction to the bite back from the shadowy alley-dweller, he continues with his cigarette as his eyes study them for a moment. ‘you like nice walks next to trash cans?’ he asks carefully, hiding another grin quickly and forcing it to a thoughtful frown. ‘i can’t keep up with these mental health quirks from the internet, first it was walks in nature and now downtown rats are meant to be good for you?’

[dimitri-blackwell]

closed with @del-stanley​ outside neon boots -

sometimes, dimitri isn’t required to show his face at the bar but he decides to regardless. usually when the insomnia kicks in or when the ragged memories piece together behind his closed eyes. he doesn’t do any work, just tucks himself in the small back office and frequently escapes to the back of the bar for a cigarette, waiting for his eyes to get heavy naturally. during one of these breaks, a scuffle of shoes across the ground makes him turn his head and he sees a tall and dark figure swaying. ‘if you’re looking for a doorway to sleep in, you’re better off nowhere near here.’ he warns, assuming it’s someone to try and get warm for the night. ‘not because i wouldn’t let you, but because this is usually where some of the regulars come to throw up.’ 

[dimitri-blackwell]

closed with @santiagoxsilva​ silver spur ranch  -

dimitri exists in a small grey area, not exactly mc but close enough to be one but he gave up participating in earning titles or patches or medals. that world was nothing but damning and he feels more secure knowing he has one clear objective as and when he’s needed. ‘how do we politely tell ethan that the only one of his kids i haven’t pulled off somebody at boots is elijah?’ he laughs to santi, taking a seat at the kitchen table. friend is too weak of a word and brother has always fitted their closeness. ‘i thought afgan was bad but god damn, seeing those two jones girls smack a dude in his dick really made me reconsider coming here.’

[dimitri-blackwell]

closed with @hakan-nacar​ neon boots -

he doesn’t hate the man, after all they’re on the same team which by all accounts means dimitri has to at the very least trust him. but there’s something easy to dislike about hakan, perhaps the way he yields his power through little or no hard work. the exact opposite of what dimitri was taught. ‘didn’t think you’d be caught dead in a honky tonk.’ dimitri laughs because truthfully, neither did he. his thick brooklyn accent proves that he’s far from home too. ‘hate to break it to you kan, but only top shelf here is drinks the rats ain’t pissed on.’ he grins, joking with a serious demeanor. 

[dimitri-blackwell]

eye crinkles.

[dimitri-blackwell]

del & dimitri​:

-

“Yeah.” Del answered briefly, hiding a smug grin because they weren’t ready to admit the real reason as to why. That was to come when they felt a bit less…wobbly. Del’s eyes actually struggled to remain open as Dimitri blew his own trumpet, yet a-damn-gain. Dumbass was full of his own importance. “Oh yeah, real master of your craft.” Del jived, knowing it would be obvious now that she was trying to goad him into something. The water bottle, however, made Del’s face contort. “As opposed to you who never looks or smells like shit.” they mused. “Oh, while we’re here. I uh…” they tapped around their leather jacket for a moment, wriggling their pale fingers into an inside pocket and retrieving a few bits of paper. They had been very, very sure to grab it when Blaze collected them. “I found a few plot holes. Thought it might be worth going through them.” she said proudly, grinning a little wider. This was truly the best moment about being in this fucking high school right now. “First, we have the fact that the character D. El is referred to as manic and crazy. Love that, by the way. Definitely shows your creativity. But in the fourth episode, D. El actually suggests an actual idea that would’ve worked. So kinda was confused what you were doing there.” Del cleared their throat and had no sign of stopping. “Ready for the others? I got a bunch, I mean…it goes on and on. Here, see for yourself.” they offered out the papers lazily.

if dimitri counts the years he has annoyed and been annoyed by cordelia stanley, he knows he will run out of fingers. their so called friendship is the perfect example of how habits are formed, and how familiarity of a cycle becomes impossible to break. the writer grunts to the other in response, without a single care blowing through his brain for del’s quips. it’s the apparent list that makes him perk up, sitting up slightly straighter. ‘i’m sure you’ll tell me them even if i say not to.’ dimitri mumbles into his palm that rubs over his face before he looks to del. he isn’t surprised by their notice of his not so subtle character placements. the producers and editors alike told him plenty of times to change it, but perhaps dimitri was hoping for a reaction. even if he hates it all the same. ‘just something to make the fans tweet about. you know how it is.’ he grins. ‘it’s nothing personal, del. you should get that chip off your shoulder.’ dimitri takes in a large breath and he eyes the papers that del offers to him first before his hand snakes up to take them. ‘probably a god damn court serve.’ he grumbles to himself, opening up the papers and sure enough there it is. the familiar letter headings of the stanley lawyers he has dealt with on more than one occasion. he can’t be angry at it, because the execution is so flawless on del’s part, so he laughs. just one scoff at first before the chuckles take over. ‘i ever told you that i fucking hate you?’

[dimitri-blackwell]

del & dimitri​:

@dimitri-blackwell​ at: gymnasium 

-

Once Del had found her footing, albeit wobbly and careful, they decided to stalk around the gymnasium in a bid to find a quiet corner. Obviously chance would be a fine thing. The place was packed, reminding Del how solitude and darkness was always her preferred surroundings. Normally, the writer would burrow themself in their study to ride out the blackout but now they had to face the entire town with the alcohol still working it’s magic. What was the point in being drunk and awake? That wasn’t why they did it. Del’s erratic thought pattern didn’t give her the chance to see who she had sat next to, a loud sigh shaking out when Dimitri’s atmosphere soaked over them. “I watched your shitty show.” they commented, slurring but not caring. A beat passed as Del glanced away, already regretting the words getting ready on the tip of their tongue. “Kind of liked the sly jab at King in the second episode. Your idea?” Fuck, words were hard right now and all of Del’s sentences were choppy and short.

​

‘i knew you would.’ dimitri says with an air of confidence, watching del maneuver herself like a newly born fawn. he’s seen them like this before, plenty of times and it always takes him right back to being a young boy. watching his father stumble over words, find it impossible to stand. the compliment is not what he expects, making dimitri glance to del and take a moment to appreciate it. with sarcasm. ‘of course it was my idea, you think you’re the only author who hates that asshole?’ he goads her effortlessly but can’t avoid the elephant in the room. silently, he passes over the water bottle he’s holding hoping they will take it without a fuss. their friendship is not conventional, but despite the tussles and courtcases it was still a friendship somehow. ‘you look like shit.’ he comments simply, looking elsewhere in the auditorium. ‘and smell like it.’ 

[dimitri-blackwell]

del & dimitri:

-

“Since when did you like small town vibes, Dimitri? What, you thought the citizens of Lockwood would bow down the moment they have a star living with them?” Del scoffed arrogantly at him, before their eyes rolled yet again. They turned to the coffee shop, pointing to Dimitri as they cleared their throat. “Hey look, it’s Dimitri Blackwell.” they announced flatly before turning back to him. “See nobody cares. Which is precisely why I live here and you need to get the fuck out.” What even was this conversation? Even as Del watched Dimitri scribble away on his paper, her feeble hand quickly snatched at the page to rip it away. “Hating someone doesn’t have to derive from anything but hatred, and if you actually read books that weren’t just teen-horrors, you’d probably be able to verbalize more complex human emotions. Shocking, right?” they retorted back to him, scrunching up the paper into the ball to throw it at his head. “I hate you for existing, does me admitting that make you feel better? Am I meant to be ashamed of that? Because I’m not. You literally suck.”

“i like small town vibes because the likelihood of being recognized is lower, del. same reason as you.” dimitri replies blandly, looking around the stunned coffee shop as del announces to the world that he’s there. crickets, as expected but equally welcomed. “feel better now?” dimitri asks the other writer with a sarcastic hum to his tone as he sits back further in his seat. “you checked your blood pressure recently? you seem like you got a lot on, did you hit a writer’s block? run out of words for ‘ghost’?” he smirks, gesturing to the free seat opposite him. “come on, relax. take a load off, i’m sure we can talk about it like adults. plan our next court date, maybe without dinner this time, huh?” his sarcasm is growing by the second, wondering how long it will take for del to blow a fuse and embarrassing themself. “you don’t hate me for existing, del. you hate that we exist at the same time and that our paths keep crossing. can’t kid a kidder, sweetcheeks.”

[dimitri-blackwell]

kieran & dimitri 

•

Kieran shakes his head at the question, a grin spreading across his lips. “Would you believe me if I said it finds me?” Not quite the truth but he doesn’t think it’s a lie. Even in New York, he didn’t necessarily go somewhere thinking he was going to end up in a fist fight. But if trouble happened to find him, if he was bored or if he’d had enough drinks…well, Kieran didn’t exactly shrink away from any of it either. He finishes cleaning up his face and snickers at the other’s words. 

“No, Nonna’s are strictly off limits. I’m not heartless.” He shakes his head, as if the very idea offends him, even though he picks up on the levity of tone.  “You know what? Just because I’m actually really fucking polite, sure.”  The Kelly doesn’t blink as he pulls a crisp $100 bill from his wallet, handing it over to the stranger. If he’s anything to go by, it seems that money doesn’t buy contentment, not when Kieran’s been chasing chaos his entire life. “Kieran,” he introduces himself, jerking his chin at the bearded man, “how bout you?” asked in turn as the bartender retreats with two orders of beer and a wary look at Kieran, as if waiting for him to start another fight. Even though he technically hadn’t started that one. 

“you know, i think i would believe you.” dimitri laughs low, offering a friendly grin to the other man. “is that what you’re saying then? it always finds you? not even a hint of you wanting it to find you?” maybe it’s too soon for dimitri’s attempts at opening up the stranger’s brainwaves, but it doesn’t make it any less fun to try.

“thank god.” he jokes back, enjoying the well-enjoyed tension breaking comments between them. his eyeline travels through the bar, noticing a woman behind it looking through the crowd perhaps to find any other troublemakers, or ensuring they’ve left. dimitri scoffs to the money, not rudely but waving his hand nonetheless. “yeah, you’re a damn delight.” he jokes again. “keep it, kid. might need it for your bail.” he laughs, getting comfortable at the bar even if his jeans feel a little too damp to truly relax. “blackwell, dimitri.” he nods, giving his name like james bond as he clicks his tongue and winks while raising his drink. “you carry a hundred bucks around and drink in dive bars often, kieran? seems like an oxymoron.”

[dimitri-blackwell]

closed with @blazethompscn​ a dog park -

“freddy, jason!” dimitri calls after his two labs who have made a friend at first sight in a doberman. there’s no worry in dimitri’s tone as he closes to the other dog walker, hands in pockets as he nods. “they’re real friendly. too friendly. still working on their recall, whole reason why i got labs was because i thought they were meant to be easy to train. that’ll teach me getting two.” he laughs, leashing up the horror themed labradors once he was close enough. “now that’s a dog.” he adds, looking to the elegant doberman as all the dogs bundle together in a sniff frenzy. 

[dimitri-blackwell]

kieran & dimitri:

•

Kieran wipes a hand over his face, “I let him get in a hit, figured he clearly doesn’t have anything going for him otherwise. I mean, look at the bastard,” he snickers, unbothered by the tone in other man’s voice. If the Kelly listened to every small jab thrown his way in his life…well, he’s not sure what would happen because he never did. Impervious to criticism. That’s what his teachers had told his parents, though they never said it like a good thing, even if Kieran chose to take it that way. Goddamn right he was. Why would he give a flying fuck what other people thought of him? They weren’t living his life, were they? 

He pivots slightly back towards the bar, grabbing a napkin as the asshole is hauled off (and, truthfully, he’s surprised he’s not but doesn’t question it) and instead hands the man a napkin, a bit of blood staining the corner from his fingers. “Where’s the fun in that? S’pose you’ll say calling someone an ugly son of a bitch is off limits now too?” He grabs the nearest bottle and takes a swig, lip twitching at the sting of beer against a cut flesh before gesturing at beardy, “what’re you having?” he pats his jacket pocket for his wallet, pulling it out with a self-satisfied flourish. “It’s on me.”

dimitri does just that, glancing to the opposition who looks like the real life embodiment of stars around a cartoon’s head. he laughs slightly, looking back to his new ‘friend’. “mighty kind of you, i guess.” dimitri decides to comment and move his attention back to his beer soaked shirt, as if palming over the material will be any use. “you always out and about looking for some sort of trouble?” he asks laughing, but this time with kindness. he heard the words dive bar being used to describe the phoenix but didn’t once think it would be literal. maybe that was his first mistake, along with thinking the beer wouldn’t be watered down a smidgen. 

“wouldn’t call it off limits, i guess i always fail to see what someone’s mother had to do with it. what’s next? people’s nonna’s? come on. who raised you?” dimitri assumes his words will fall on deaf or ignorant ears, and perhaps the playfulness in his tone isn’t quite obvious enough despite his smile. he wonders if it won’t be long until his ‘friend’ of his is insulting his mother, or throwing some punches his way. “sure, i won’t say no. think you can replace my shirt while you’re at it?” he jokes, pointing to the sodden material before waving his hand. “kidding, before you spit blood in my beer. you have a name, kid?”