#Paydirt

[blueeyeddarkknight]

Val being the most adorable bby girl on movie sets 😭😂😍

[jp-hunsecker]

Paydirt is ostensibly a heist movie; more specifically, the kind wherein several of the main characters get a quick freeze frame labeled with their nicknames.

[wine-porn]

California or Bust

Here’s a fun wine. Garish label notwithstanding, I knew these guys when they were in Paso and they have since moved production–and sourcing–into a wider area: it’s *California* now but the theme in the bottle has not changed. It’s still a beautiful, inexpensive bottle of Zin, staying true to California instincts. Clear medium ruby in the glass with a razor’s rim of clear. A perfunctory nose of…

[coolchevistianofficialsite]

Paydirt Park (2021) - Animated Series Pitch by Charlie Gavin ("Clarence","Harvey Beaks","Big City Greens","Jellystone!")

Pitched and passed by Disney Television Animation,Cartoon Network Studios, Dreamworks Animation Television Animation, Netflix Animation & Nickelodeon Animation Studios

[neverleaveyourwingman]

No, I haven’t been watching through Val Kilmer’s filmography, why do you ask?

Next up: Real Genius, Top Secret and Kiss Kiss Bang Bang probably.

[coquelicoq]

we've moved on to the clue-writing stage of the construction of my best friend's wedding crossword! i'm feeling very accomplished because i found the setting in my crossword software that allows me to put circles in some of the squares 🥰💪 i am a genius (who knows how to open and search the help file)!! now i'm just asking my friend a bunch of random questions about her fiancé in an effort to make sure some of the clues are specific to him. apparently he doesn't have any relatives named alice, which is too bad. but i am going to find a way to make some of these words relevant to this guy i don't know very well. manifesting this ✨

[blueeyeddarkknight]

Have you seen Paydirt? I wasn’t a huge fan of the plot (literally only watched it for Val 😅), but the two scenes with Val and Mercedes were 🥺🥺

I saw the two scenes with Val and Mercedes but my attention span couldn't take watching a movie with hardly any Val or any of my favorite actors in it 😂 i mostly skip to Val's scenes if the plot doesn't interest me especially when he's hardly in the movie. And yes.. Val and his kids are so wholesome 🥺😍 he's an amazing father and Mercedes and Jack are the best kids.. Well raised 🥺🤧

[feralego]

@exspiritment sent: five calls

1.

          Spirit helps him get a phone and puts her number into the device, but she does not show him how to make a call, and he does not think to ask. It isn’t until much later, when Reldriz has discovered that the wild geese gathered around the pond in the park are not friendly creatures, and he’s somehow tangled himself up in a volleyball net, that he realizes he should have asked for a tutorial.

          He gets as far as unlocking the phone before someone comes along to help him free himself.

2.

          Driz discovers the wonders of a splash pad, and very nearly forgets to take the device out of his pocket before he runs out to partake in the fun. But when he sees others taking their phones out of their pockets and leaving them in their hand bags, he decides to leave his on a bench by his shoes. In the hot, direct sun.

          By the time he has had his fill of the watery playground, his phone has overheated, and he thinks he’s broken it when it refuses to unlock. 

          Putting his boots back on, he’s upset that he can’t relay the fun he had to Spirit, nor can he ask her to join him in round two.

3. 

          He gets lost, pushed by the stream of the crowd into a subway car and off of it at some other station, however far away. A gruff looking man eyes him up and down when he notices just how out of place the prince looks, and after a little chat, he hands him a fistful of change and points him in the direction of a payphone.

          But Reldriz does not know Spirit’s number; only that he has it in the still-hot device tucked into his breastpocket.          

          Driz tries to give the money back to the man, but he refuses to take it and instead helps the prince find his way back onto a train that would get him back to the previous station. And sure enough, following his instructions gets him back to slightly more familiar territory.

4.

          She’s not where they’d met. It shouldn’t surprise him, but he’d been hopeful to see her as he’d confidently strode around the corner to what he’s begun to refer to as his arrival site. He pulls out the phone again to fiddle with it, and he’s surprised to find it in working order once more.

          But he still doesn’t know how to use it correctly and winds up discovering YouTube.

          He’s begun down a rabbithole of new and bizarre information, and by the time he remembers what he was trying to do when he sat down, a notification pops up on his screen decrying the status of the battery.

          Remembering the cord that had come with the phone, he looks for something to plug it into, and sees what looks to be a suitable port. He’s proud of himself for figuring it out, but disappointed with how long it takes to charge.

          While it charges, however, he takes the time to tap into each of the little squares on the homescreen, and eventually finds the address book and the one contact he has stored inside.

5.

          He’s getting strange looks. Looks that are not matched with the kindness and concern shown to him by the man who’d been sitting against the wall of the subway station. They are sharp and stern, accompanied by an angry voice and a demand to leave the establishment if he’s not going to purchase anything.

          Spooked by this treatment, he very nearly forgets to take his phone and the charging cable with him when he leaves.

6.

          Sitting by a fountain out in front of a tall glass building that reminds him an awful lot of his home, Reldriz dips his fingers into the cool water, and looks down into its depths at all the coins in the water. They look like the money that the man from the subway tunnel had given him, and Driz happily plunges his arm even farther into the chlorinated water to fish handfuls of them out to fill his pockets.

          When his hands dry, he finally calls Spirit to tell her all about his day, and to tell her about the small fortune that he’d stumbled upon.

[chiriwritesstuff]

The New Girl in Tinseltown; Chapter 3 - Fake Smile

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: It's the weekend after, and it's back to reality for Doll and Dieter. Of course, the public is loving their sudden nuptials, but what about the important people in Doll's inner circle? Will they believe her through her lies? Meanwhile, Dieter will stop at nothing to prove that what they have between the two of them is real...

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut lite, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Dieter and his fucking paintbrush, A hell of a lot of dirty banter, is that yearning?, mentions of devious deeds by sleazy people in show business, we introduce a few more characters, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, Someone gets a name reveal, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 7.3K (it seems like I can just go on and on and on...)

Song Inspo: ‘Fake Smile’ - Ariana Grande

The first time you found yourself in hot water with the media, it was all because of a little misunderstanding.

A stupid one, yes, but in Hollywood, things like simple misunderstandings were paydirt in the world of the paparazzi. What was even more fucked up was the more stupid the situation, the more they ate it up, and the more money they could make from you making a complete ass of yourself. 

TMZ News Flash: Up and-coming starlet arrested for assault of a homeless woman, maintains that it was a misunderstanding-

It was a few months into your career, and you found yourself recovering from a harsh casting call that left you feeling defeated. With your cap pulled low and sunglasses shielding your eyes, you dodged the paparazzi lurking outside the building where the audition was being held. Being labeled Hollywood's newest darling had thrust you into the spotlight faster than you could prepare for, and it felt like everyone was just waiting for you to slip up. It was only a matter of time...

“Look, Alex,” you whisper into your phone, pulling your sweater tight around you, and looking at your surroundings nervously. “I’m not going to land every role I audition for, it was just a bad case of nerves… anyway, give Mum and Dad my love, I’m about to head into the next audition-“ you tell your sister, checking your watch as you hurriedly make your way towards your destination a few buildings down. “… I love you, too. Speak soon, alright? Tell Zoe I love her.” 

Lost in your thoughts and the frustration of the day, you hurried along the sidewalk, oblivious to the world around you, when, suddenly, you are accosted by a homeless woman, her cup outstretched, her plea for spare change hanging in the air.

"Some change?" she asks, her cup dangerously close to your face. "I'm cold and hungry-"

You reach into your purse, fumbling for some coins. "Here you go," you offer, dropping them into her cup without a second thought.  

Instead of the dull thud of the change hitting the bottom of the cup, you're met with the tell-tell sound of a tiny splash, the homeless woman's eyes widening in shock and tiny horror.

"What the fuck, lady?" she screams, looking at her ruined cup of coffee. "Just because I'm out here begging for money doesn't mean you can be an asshole about it!"

"Oh shit, I am so sorry... wait, let me just run to Starbucks and get you a new one-" you stammer, your eyes scanning for the nearest coffee shop. You pull your sunglasses down slightly, squinting as you spot a café on the corner.

The woman tsks at you, her expression shifting as she suddenly recognizes you. "Hey, aren't you that actress from that movie-"

Your heart sinks as you freeze, the knot in your throat tightening. "Uh, yeah, that's me," you admit, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you. "I really didn't mean to, I thought the cup was empty-"

"No way!" she exclaims, her voice drawing attention as she gestures wildly. "You're one of those celebs with the paparazzi on your tail, aren't you? Hey, you there!" She points to a man hiding nearby with a camera, catching his attention. "She just dumped her change in my coffee cup!"

"No, please," you whisper urgently to the woman, ducking as the man approaches, camera poised. "I just lost them, please, I can't deal with-"

"Doll! Doll!" he shouts, snapping pictures rapidly as you try to shield yourself. "How'd the audition go? What movie was it for?"

"No comment," you respond curtly, raising your arms to block the shots, the homeless woman's protests growing louder in the background.

"She just tossed her coins in my cup, what a clueless bimbo!" she shouts, gripping your hand and pulling you closer. "Hey, where do you think you're going? You still owe me a coffee!"

"Please, I don't want to make a scene-" You struggle to break free, but in the chaos, your purse swings out, accidentally smacking the woman across the face as you tumble to the ground.

"You bitch!" she screams, clutching her cheek. "Did you see that? She attacked me-"

"No, it was an accident, I swear!" you plead, but your voice is drowned out by the relentless clicks of the cameras.

Later, at the police station on La Cienega.  

"Doll," your publicist murmurs as he guides you out the back entrance of the police station, shielding your face from the frenzy of paparazzi. With a protective arm around you, he ushers you into the waiting car, pushing aside the relentless onslaught of cameras.

Once safely inside the Lincoln Continental, you both exhale in relief as Nathan orders the driver to go, the sound of the engine drowning out the chaos outside.

"I warned you about this," Nathan sighs, glancing at his buzzing phone. "I told you things would get crazy after 'Little Star' hit theaters. You can't afford to be careless now. What were you thinking, getting yourself into a situation like that?"

"I don't know, Nate," you sigh, "... maybe I wasn't thinking," you admit, frustration evident in your voice. "How was I supposed to know that trying to do a good deed was going to backfire like this? It's not like I approached her, she took me by surprise!"

"But did you need to assault the poor woman?" he exclaims, his brow raised in disbelief.  

You give him a look, crossing your arms across your chest as you gaze outside the car window. 'I apologized, alright? It's not like she's the one suffering from all of this, I missed the audition, only because I thought I was doing her a favor! Fuck!"

Nathan shakes his head, his expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. "Look. I get it, but you're not just anyone anymore, Doll. Every move you make is under a microscope. We need damage control, fast... and maybe some media training while we're at it. It's like trying to tame a fucking feral cat or something-"

You nod, feeling the weight of his words. "Yeah, I know. We'll figure it out. But for now, let's just get out of here."

As the car pulls away from the chaos outside, you sink back into your seat, feeling the exhaustion seeping into your bones. This was just the beginning of a long battle against public scrutiny, and you knew it was going to be a tough fight.

The next time you found yourself in the headlines for a scandal, it was when the tiny part of your mind decided that it was a good idea to get eloped with a man you barely even know.

Present Day. 8a - Meeting with your Publicist (Nathan 'The Shark' Smith)

WhatsApp Message from Dieter:  Are you there yet? Doll: Just parked. Sitting in my car outside of the studio. What are you doing up so early? I swear, you sleep like the dead. Dieter: Woke up to a cold bed. Maybe fuck the meeting with the Shark and come home. My cock misses you. I miss you.  Dieter: (Sends a picture of said cock, fully erect and the mushroom tip bright red and angry, with Dieter's face in a frown). Doll: I can't keep avoiding him, D. Plus, I have my screen test today. Your cock is just going to have to wait, sorry baby. Dieter: Could you just send me a photo of your tits at least?  

"What the fuck were you thinking, Doll?"

You roll your eyes as you flop onto your publicist's couch, crossing your arms around your chest. "Spare me the theatrics, Nathan. What's done is done, there's no point in dwelling in the past-"

"Do you have any idea just how much your little stunt is going to cost you? We were so close to landing Disney, and now I don't know how I'm going to convince them that you haven't lost your goddamn mind!" Nathan's voice reverberates through the room as he rips his glasses off his face.

"You pay me to protect you, to guide you down the right path, and you go and hook up with the first guy who winks at you? At a goddamn In-N-Out?! And let's not even talk about this sham of a marriage-"

"I was drunk, Nathan! I did what a normal person would have done if they drank as much as I did! And marrying Dieter isn't the end of the world! Maybe you need to loosen up a bit!"

"You don't even know him, Doll! This is as close to career suicide as it gets, and I'm not sure I want to try to salvage this mess!"

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. The damage is done! we just have to deal with it," you say defiantly, pulling out your phone.

"Maybe he roofied you or something," he mutters to himself, pacing back and forth. "If you want, we could take a drug test, maybe prove that somehow... he manipulated you into marrying him. Maybe, we could get the police involved, and you won't have to go through with this shit show! "

"There was no manipulation!" you retort, "these things happen all the damn time! how do you think these 24-hour drive-thru wedding chapels survive? I don't see the problem of two consenting adults agreeing to marry each other!"

"Have you seen what the news outlets have been saying about you? Half of them are already calling it a sham, while the other half thinks that you're knocked up!" he throws a stack of newspaper off his desk, the pages fluttering in the air as they land near where you sit. 

You reach for the top gossip magazine in the towering stack, and your heart sinks as you're greeted by a blown-up photo of you and Dieter in Marcus's convertible. Both of you have flushed faces, yet there's an undeniable spark of happiness in your eyes.  

Hollywood Sweetheart marries Hollywood Lothario Dieter Bravo at a Las Vegas Wedding Chapel after being caught having public sex at popular fast food spot In N Out...

You shake your head at that, tossing it back onto the table, not wanting to think of the implications and emotions behind the photo.  

"I don't give a damn about the news outlets!" you snap back, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Let them speculate all they want. I'm not going to let some gossip rags dictate my life."

Nathan sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Doll, you're playing with fire here. You're on the verge of ruining your career, and for what? A drunken mistake?"

"It's not just about that," you argue, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you. "There's more to it than you realize."

"Then enlighten me," Nathan challenges, his tone softer now, a hint of concern seeping through his frustration. "Help me understand why you're willing to risk everything for someone you barely know."

"It's like he sees through all the bullshit," you murmur to Nathan, a pang of melancholy coloring your words. "While everyone else is busy painting me as this flawless figure, Dieter's the one who looks beyond the facade. He's not afraid to acknowledge the messy, imperfect parts of me, the ones I try to keep hidden."

With a sigh, you retrieve a cigarette from your purse and light it, the smoke swirling around you in the dimly lit room. "He's seen and experienced things most people shy away from, yet he's still unapologetically himself. There's a raw honesty to him that I find... refreshing."

 He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Maybe it's best to give it a few months, let people think it wasn't a mistake, and just..." His voice trails off, the unspoken suggestion hanging in the air.

"Why do you think I'm in this industry? I am good at what I do, and besides... I don't think it would be that hard, pretending to be with him. He's... different, like a completely different person when he's with me. He has this way of making me feel-"

"Objectified? Like a good little slut for daddy?"

"Understood, Nathan," you reply sharply, stubbing the cigarette in the ashtray. "He makes me feel seen," you add with a sigh, a hint of vulnerability seeping into your tone. "Do you think we could wrap this up? I've got a screen test to prepare for."

"You sound like you're smitten with something," he snarks, typing away at his computer. "I don't know what to tell you, Doll," Nathan says, his tone laden with concern. "I just can't see this ending well. Dieter's like a disease, spreading toxicity wherever he goes. It's only a matter of time before he poisons you too."

9a. Trailer. 

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in, Mrs. Dieter Bravo, in the flesh!"

You put on the best fake smile you could muster, pulling your shades off as you enter your trailer, your 'glam squad' already waiting to help you prep for your screen test. "Good morning to you too, ladies," you reply, taking a sip of your coffee. "Shall we get started?"

"That's it, Doll? you're not gonna give us the scoop?" Your hairstylist teases, "You're just going to pretend like you didn't do something so fucking insane like getting hitched in Vegas? To Dieter Bravo of all people? Are we nothing to you?!" she exclaims, taking you by the shoulders as she playfully shoves you onto her chair.  

"I don't know what else I could tell you besides that yes, I got married over the weekend, I mean, it was all over TMZ for everyone to see-"

"I have to ask," Sofia chimes in, giving you a sly smile as she looks at you through the mirror, combing your hair back into a low ponytail. "Is he as big as they say he is?"

"You know, a normal person would say congratulations to someone who just got married."

"I mean, why waste time with congratulations when we can get down to the nitty-gritty? The people don't give a shit about the pleasantries, we wanna know about the good stuff. So, Spill: is he packing or not?"

"Sorry, Sof, a lady doesn't fuck and tell," you say with a saccharine smile, rolling your eyes.

"I'm shocked, honestly," your PA slash childhood best friend Daisy muses, typing away on her phone as she settles on the chair next to yours. "I had no idea you were seeing Dieter before this past weekend," she says with a hint of what someone could perceive as suspicion. "I'm glued to your side 24-7. Surely, I would have noticed that you were fucking him. Dieter Bravo isn't known for being subtle."

"Just because I live under a microscope doesn't mean I don't know how to keep things on the down low, Daisy. I can have a relationship and keep it secret from the world, celebrities do it all the time."

"What I don't understand is if you were so hell-bent on keeping your relationship with Dieter under wraps in the first place, why have such a shitshow of a wedding?" Daisy challenges, throwing her phone on the workspace in front of you as she turns to look at you, an unimpressed look on her face. "Something doesn't add up."

"What are you trying to say, Dais?" 

"I'm saying, you were seen sucking face with Adam Patterson at Sundance not even two weeks ago, so I think I'm trying to say that you're full of shit," she retorts, her eyes narrowed as she stares you down.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb, Doll. I know everything about your life, I'm your best friend, for fucks sake! If you were with Dieter Bravo, I would've known. I live right next door to you!"

"Well, maybe I just wanted something that was mine, Daisy. Don't I deserve that?"

She scoffs incredulously. "Does Alex know?"

"Of course Alex knows, she's my sister!" you counter, hoping she doesn't catch the slight waver in your voice, your tell when you're not telling the whole truth.

"BUT I'M YOUR BEST FRIEND! I COME FIRST!"

You're taken aback by Daisy's sudden outburst, Sofia and Poppy exchanging uncomfortable glances as the tension escalates. 

"So that's what this is about, then? You're just pissed because you found out like everyone else on TMZ? I'm entitled to privacy, Daisy! I have secrets. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but a relationship involves two people, and we both agreed to keep it quiet-"

"Oh spare me with that self-righteous bullshit, Doll!" she spits, rising from her seat. "This isn't you! It's like I'm talking to a fucking stranger right now!" She pushes past you as she makes her way out of the trailer. "You can have your secrets, but just remember, I know the ones that COUNT, remember that."

"Dais, come on, I said I'm sorry!" you call out after her, feeling a pang of guilt as she flicks you off and slams the trailer door shut.

"That went well," Sofia observes dryly as she starts working on your hair again. You wince a little as she smooths out the strands, already dreading what might come next.

"Hey Sof, instead of the braid, do you think we could leave my hair down? Maybe add some curls and give it that messy-but-sexy vibe?" you suggest, hoping for a change from the usual routine.

"I mean, yeah, that could look really hot, but Nate told me we were going for a more virginal look-" Sofia begins, her hesitation evident.

"Seriously? My character's supposed to be around my age, not some naive teenager," you argue, feeling exasperated. "Surely she wouldn't still be a virgin."

"You know what? You're right," Sofia concedes, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Sometimes us girlies just have a tough time finding love, right? That doesn't mean we can't look hot in the process! Wow Doll, look at you, spicing it up a bit! Finally! Should I send my gratitude to your new beau?"

You recall the way Dieter looked at you during the gala, his fingers gently brushing your hair back as he smiled warmly. "I love it when you wear your hair like this," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "It's so sexy, it's more you, you know?"

"Yeah, maybe," you breathe, smiling. "He likes it when my hair is down, but I think I like it, too." 

Sofia nods in agreement, smiling at you through the mirror. "I think I like it, too. Look at you," she teases. "Little miss sweetheart, growing up."

Later, after the screen test.

"Are you out of your mind?" Nathan's screams reverberate through the confines of your car, causing you to wince as you pull out of the parking lot. "I specifically told you we were going for a girl-next-door vibe, and you show up looking like a slut?! I swear, the next time I see Dieter Bravo, I'm wringing his neck!"

"I don't see how this is his fault, though. I told Sofie and Poppy about the edits, and they seemed to be on board," you retort defensively. "I have a mind of my own, Nate, no one is influencing me in my decisions, how many times do I have to tell you that?! I'm not some fucking doll you can play with!"

"Well, the Doll I knew before wouldn't be acting like this! It's like you were body snatched or something!"

"I'll have you know, Favreau loved the change, and thought it made sense for the character!"

"I don't give a damn what Favreau thinks!" Nathan snaps, his voice rising in frustration. "You're letting Dieter run your life, and it's ruining your career, Doll. I won't stand by and watch you throw everything away for some fling!"

"I'm hanging up now, Nathan," you declare firmly, your grip tightening on the steering wheel. "I don't need this right now."

Without waiting for a response, you end the call and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The weight of Nathan's words lingers, but you push them aside, focusing on the road ahead as you navigate through the winding streets back to Dieter's house.

As you navigate the winding roads back to the Hollywood Hills, the argument with Nathan still ringing in your ears, you can feel your frustration mounting. The car ride is tense, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

Nathan's accusations replay in your mind, his anger leaving you feeling both defensive and conflicted. You glance at your reflection in the rearview mirror, taking in your appearance. Your outfit, chosen in haste, suddenly feels like a glaring mistake.

The sight of Dieter's house coming into view offers a small sense of relief. You pull into the driveway, noticing the moving boxes scattered across the lawn. The realization hits you that this is now your home, too.

Stepping out of the car, you're greeted by the chaos of movers bustling about, carrying boxes and furniture into the house. Dieter appears in the doorway, concern etched on his face as he approaches you.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, reaching out to touch your arm gently. "You look upset."

"Nathan," you sigh, shaking your head. "He's convinced that everything is your fault."

Dieter's expression darkens, his jaw tightening. "I'll have a word with him," he mutters, his tone laced with frustration.

You offer him a weak smile, appreciating his support. As you follow him into the house, the weight of the day's events begins to lift. You walk into the massive living room, a far cry from your own modest LA flat in Silver Lake. Your eyes widen as you take in your knickknacks amongst Dieter’s gothic decor, your collection of Sonny Angels and their smiling faces alongside Dieter’s collection of what you think are first editions of every Edgar Allen Poe book imaginable, in pristine condition, you might add. You chuckle at the juxtaposition, two very different personalities coming together that shouldn’t work in theory, but look harmonious together anyway. You can't help but smile at the sight, touched by Dieter's thoughtful gesture. Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you turn to him, feeling a rush of gratitude and emotion that you can't quite place. "Dieter..."

"Do you like it?" He asks eagerly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You find yourself sinking into the embrace, comforted by his warmth as he pulls you onto the sofa beside him. "I thought you might need a little sanctuary after your meeting with The Shark," he continues, shooting you a playful look. "Marcus did most of the unpacking, but I pitched in! It's like you've always been here, doesn't it feel like home?" His words touch you deeply, and you can't help but wonder if maybe there's some truth to the idea that you belong here with him, despite the unconventional circumstances of your marriage.

You sink into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "I love it," you confess softly, snuggling closer to him as he strokes your hair. "It's cozy, it's... us." You pause, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice. "But what if someone sees through our little charade? What if they start asking questions again?"

"I'm glad you love it," he murmurs, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "And trust me, with this setup, no one will doubt us for a second. It's like our little secret hideaway," he adds with a chuckle. "But hey, if anyone tries to interrogate you again, just send them my way. I'll handle them." He flashes you a reassuring smile, his eyes full of warmth.

"Hopefully it doesn't get to that point, but Nate surely thinks I'm close to killing my career," you say, a touch of worry creeping into your voice.

"So I'm guessing your meeting with Nathan didn't go too well then?"

"Oh, he accused you of drugging me at the gala and threatened to go to the police-" you tease, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm pretty sure he thinks that I've been body snatched or lobotomized-"

"No, you've made a pact with the devil, and now... it seems he's come to collect," he breathes into your ear, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path down to the waistband of your jeans, sending shivers down your spine as they caress your skin. You gasp as he unbuckles your jeans, sliding your zipper down slowly as his hands make their way to your center.

He hums in appreciation as his fingers graze the edge of your panties, a smirk playing on his lips as he feels how wet you are. "What do you say, Mrs. Bravo? Are you gonna let your husband take care of you?"

"... and just how are you planning to take care of me, D?" you moan as his fingers push your panties aside, squirming as they slowly start to part your folds.

"I can think of a few ways, but there's something specific I had in mind," Dieter says with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What's that?" you ask, intrigued by his sudden excitement.

"I want to show you something," he announces, springing off the couch and grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet.

Dieter leads you through the spacious home, his steps purposeful and eager. As you approach what seems to be a nondescript door, he turns to you with a smile that hints at anticipation. With a theatrical flourish, he swings the door open, revealing a room bathed in natural light, filled with the scent of paint and creativity.

"This is my sanctuary," he says softly, his eyes gleaming with pride as he gestures for you to enter.

Your heart flutters with excitement and curiosity as you step into the room. Your eyes widen at the sight before you—a massive canvas dominating one wall, covered in vibrant colors and intricate brushstrokes.

"It's breathtaking," you murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from the masterpiece before you.

Dieter steps beside you, his presence comforting yet electrifying. "I painted it for you," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

You're speechless, your heart pounding with a mixture of awe and gratitude. As you take in the details of the painting—a stunning array of orchids in hues of crimson, violet, and gold—you feel a warmth spreading through you.

"It's... it's incredible," you finally manage to say, your voice filled with emotion.

Dieter's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense yet tender. "I wanted to capture the essence of your beauty, the depth of your spirit," he explains softly. "Every stroke, every color—it's all for you."

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you reach out to touch the canvas, feeling the texture of the paint beneath your fingertips. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of his creation, you realize just how deeply he sees you, how much he understands.

"I don't know what to say," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

"You don't have to say anything," Dieter replies, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers. "Just know that this painting is a reflection of my budding love for you, a testament to the beauty I see in you every day."

"When did you have the time to even paint this? This must have taken months-"

Dieter chuckles softly, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he watches your reaction to the painting.

"I've poured my heart and soul into this piece," he admits, his voice tinged with pride. "But it's not quite finished yet."

"What more could you possibly add? It looks perfect to me," you reply, admiring the intricate details of the painting.

"Have you heard of the artist Georgia O'Keeffe?" Dieter asks, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "She had a way of painting flowers up close and personal, in a style that some found suggestive."

"You mean the whole 'vagina flower' controversy?" you chuckle, recalling the scandal. "People always read too much into things. Sometimes a flower is just a flower."

"Yes, but you're more than just a beautiful flower to me," Dieter murmurs as he approaches you from behind, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt one by one.

His touch sends a shiver down your spine as you feel the warmth of his breath against your neck. You lean back into him, feeling his presence enveloping you like a comforting embrace. As your shirt falls to the ground, forgotten, you turn to face him, the intensity of his gaze drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

"Beautiful," he rasps, his hand blindly grabbing a clean paintbrush from his workstation. "What a fucking masterpiece you are, my darling girl."

He rests the paintbrush at the hollow of your neck, his gaze tracing a path down your body as he delicately sweeps it along your clavicle, then down to your sternum. The pressure is just right, sending a shiver down your spine and raising goosebumps across your skin.  

"I've painted many things in my life, but never on a canvas as perfect as you," he murmurs, a small smirk playing on his lips as he trails the brush along the curve of your breasts, flicking it teasingly against your nipple.

You let out a soft moan, your head tilting back as his mouth hovers over the sensitive tip. "Dieter," you plead, your eyes locking with his in desperation. "Please, paint me with your tongue."

Meanwhile, at the LAX baggage claim...

"Eddie! Focus!" Alex screams into her phone as she grabs her luggage at the carousel at LAX. "Do you think she would still be at her flat?"

"I would assume that since she's married the bloke, she would be living with him, surely, as her sister you would know this?" he croons, groaning.  

"Well, I thought she told me everything, but my obvious shock of her being bloody married should tell you why I'm even in LA in the first place! What if she's gotten into those drugs that this Bravo character is into? Did you hear about that rumor with the ferret?"

"Okay, point taken," Eddie replies, clearing his throat. "Tell me why you felt like it was necessary to book the first flight out of Heathrow for this again? Doesn't Daisy live next door to her flat? Why are you asking me when you could just ask her?"

"Ugh, don't even get me started on that twat," Alex moans, rolling her luggage, walking in circles anxiously. "I seriously think she's a lost cause, just mooching off of my poor sister who is too sweet to know better. Do you know that she pays for her flat? Doll already pays her a good salary, I don't see how she has to also pay for her rent-"

Eddie chuckles. "Is that bitterness I sense, my pearl? She is her best friend, it's not completely out of the ordinary. Besides, it's not like your sister didn't set us up with these sweet digs in the city, London isn't exactly cheap, baby. Don't be an ungrateful cunt, honey. Your ugliness is show-"

"Eddie! For fucks sake, focus!" Your sister cuts her boyfriend off, almost bumping into a family as she tries to navigate her way out of the LAX terminal. She winces as a group of tired eyes glare back at her, shrugging her shoulders and mouthing an apology as she walks past. "How in the hell am I going to find out where this Dieter lives? It's not like I could ask the first person I see if they know where Oscar Winner Dieter Bravo lives-"

"Actually," Eddie chuckles through the phone, "That's not a bad idea, Alex. Maybe you should head downtown and grab one of those 'Maps of the Stars' things and catch a ride on a tour bus. Don't they use those double-decker buses? It'll be like you're back in merry ol' London!"

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" he deadpans, the sounds of the latest football match blaring on the TV. "You could always give Daisy a ring, I'm sure she would love to chauffeur the princess' sister around Los Angeles like the entitled queen she thinks she is-"

"Oh, Piss off Eddie. I'll talk to you later. Say goodnight to Zoe for me, alright? and don't forget to take the trash out in the morning!" 

"I'm not going to tell your fucking dog goodnight, Alex. Just go find your stupid sister, give her a piece of your mind, have her give you some "sorry" money, and then come back home, you know how cranky I get when the laundry piles up-"

"GoodBYE, Eddie." Alex rolls her eyes as she hangs up on her boyfriend of seven years, muttering fucking asshole under her breath as she rifles through her purse for her ciggies. She takes a long drag as she looks out into the sunny sky of Los Angeles, a welcome change to the dreariness of London. She checks her phone once more, a photo of two smiling teenage girls smiling back at her.  

She smiles at the memory of the day when the photo was taken, the day of your adoption into her family after what happened before your abrupt removal from your family home.  "We're officially sisters, Baby Doll! You're finally free!" Alex exclaims, her arms around your shoulders as you laugh in glee "I'm so grateful for everything, Alex! For you and your family… taking me in after what happened at the chur-" She shakes out of the memory, checking the time. Taking another drag, she presses on your contact and takes a deep breath, the line trilling in her ear.  

The person you're trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone-

"Fucking hell, Doll," she groans, shoving her sunglasses onto her face as she turns to the man that is looking at his phone next to her. 

"Excuse me, Sir-"

"Those things will kill you, you know," the man replies, not bothering to look up from his screen. 

"Haha, yeah, listen- would it be easier to catch a cab, or is there some sort of rail system I could take into the city from here?" she asks, adjusting her tote bag on her shoulder.

"I could tell you, but I honestly don't care to," the man retorts, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. He pockets his phone into his pocket and walks away, shaking his head in annoyance. "Fucking tourists-"

"Oi! Go fuck yourself!" Alex screams back at the man, giving him the bird as he jumps into an Uber. Her eyes widen at the sight of a cherry red double-decker bus, 'Tour of the Stars!' emblazoned off the side of it.  

"Holy fuck, Eddie- you're a fucking genius!" she exclaims to herself, hurriedly pulling her luggage to the back of the line of excited tourists. "Who would have thought that bastard could think of something so brilliant?!"

"Do you think we'll get a glimpse of Doll now that she married Dieter Bravo?" a man asks his friend as they wait in line. "Did you see that video of the two of them at the In n Out? her tits looked so massive in his hands!"

"What a lucky bastard, right? I bet she's such a dirty girl under that sweet fucking exterior of hers, what I would do to be able to tap that!" his friend replies, chuckling at himself, smiling like he's said something so fucking profound. "Bravo must live in that sweet pussy of hers, she must taste so fucking sweet, maybe we should go up to his front door and ask to see if he was interested in a gang bang, it's not like he hasn't been caught in one before-"

"Oi!" Alex exclaims, her face red with frustration as she points at the group of men. "Watch your fucking mouth! That's my fucking sister you're talking about!"

"Yeah, and I'm the President of the United States," the man replies, sneering at her. "Doesn't your mommy teach you it's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations?" he scoffs, high-fiving his friend. "If she was your sister, why are you in line for 'Tour of the Stars'? I know girls can be crazy, but you're living in la-la-land, lady!"

"Yeah? Well, I wanted to surprise her," Alex retorts, her demeanor growing flustered under the scrutiny of the group of men.

"Well, hate to break it to you, but I don't quite see the resemblance, sweetheart. Maybe if you got some plastic surgery, and I squint my eyes just right, maybe it could happen for you."

As they board the bus, Marty, the tour guide, announces enthusiastically, "Alright folks, buckle up! We're about to embark on a star-studded adventure, touring the homes of Hollywood's elite!"

The men who had been teasing Alex hoot and holler in excitement, egging Marty on with raucous cheers.

"We'll be swinging by Dieter Bravo's estate up in the Hills," Marty continues, adjusting his microphone. "It's one of the hottest properties in town, folks! Who knows, maybe we'll catch a glimpse of the man himself or even his famous wife! They just got married in Las Vegas over the weekend, how exciting, right?"

Alex rolls her eyes at the mention of Doll, already dreading the attention her sister's marriage attracts. But she stays silent, focusing on keeping her composure amid the rowdy crowd.

As the bus winds its way through the glamorous streets of Hollywood, Marty regales the passengers with tales of celebrity scandals and triumphs. An hour into the tour, they finally stop in front of a lavish mansion nestled among the hills.

"This is it, folks! The home of the one and only Dieter Bravo!" Marty announces, his voice filled with excitement.

Alex's heart skips a beat as she recognizes your BMW X4 behind the gates and manicured hedges. With a surge of adrenaline, she jumps to her feet, shouting over the din of the other passengers, "Stop the bus!"

"No can do, lady. Don't want to risk another lawsuit," Marty replies with a chuckle.

"But she's my sister! Please, just for a moment, I need to see her."

But Marty remains firm, his tone unwavering. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't make any exceptions. And even if she were your sister, why would you be on this tour bus?"

He glances at Alex skeptically, a furrow forming on his brow. "Seems like we're attracting all sorts of characters today," he muttered under his breath. "Crazier by the minute."

Feeling frustrated and desperate, Alex makes a split-second decision. "Oh, fuck this-" She lunges for the door handle and, without hesitation, jumps out of the bus.

"Hey!" Marty screams, the bus grinding to a halt. "Get back in here!" he yells as she slams onto the hot asphalt.  

"No, can't, shant!" she screams back at the bus, "I won't tell it was you if you just drive away, no harm no foul?"

"... good enough for me!" Marty yells back, motioning to the tour bus driver. "onto the next one!" 

The group of men who had teased her earlier chuckled. "Good luck finding your 'sister,'" one of them jeered sarcastically as the bus pulled away.

"Fuck, why do I keep putting myself through this?" Alex groans, wincing as she tries to steady herself, her scraped knees and wrists a testament to her rough landing. With determination in her stride, she approaches the gates, her heart pounding in her chest. Surprisingly, she finds them slightly ajar, allowing her to slip through the heavy iron. Wheeling her luggage along, she heads toward what she hopes is the front door and tentatively knocks. "Hello?"

Growing impatient, Alex begins to pound on the door. "Hey, I know you're in there! Open the damn door!" she screams, frustration evident in her voice. As the door suddenly swings open, she's met with the sight of a handsome man, his annoyance matching her own.

Marcus narrowed his eyes at her, his arms crossed over his chest. "Can I help you?"

"Oh—" Alex gasped, clearly flustered and embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sir," She glanced back at the map, her eyes darting around her surroundings. "I thought this was the residence of Dieter Bravo. I must be mistaken—"

"Listen, lady, are you in need of medical assistance? Do you need me to call the rehab center that you clearly looked like you escaped from?"

"I beg your pardon?" Alex snaps, her frustration evident in her clenched fists as she strides back up to the man in front of her, her patience wearing thin. She takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to deal with this arrogant jerk. It's such a shame such a beautiful man like him is such a tool, she thinks to herself through her annoyance.

"Look, I've just had a grueling flight from Heathrow after a massive row with my boyfriend. He can't fathom why I needed to fly thousands of miles to LA to see my sister, who's apparently decided to get married by some Elvis impersonator on a whim. Clearly, she's lost her mind, and I've come all the way here to figure out just what the hell has gotten into her! So, if you're not Doll—"

"You're Doll's sister?" Marcus asks incredulously, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes, I'm Doll's sister. What does it look like?"

Marcus scoffs, his eyes disbelieving as they roam over her figure, his smirk growing wider. "Sure, if you're her sister, then I'm the queen of England."

"What is that supposed to mean, you prick?"

"Listen, don't get me wrong, you are a gorgeous woman, but I don't see the family resemblance."

"She's my adoptive sister, you moron!"

"That's what they all say, sweetheart."

"OH!" Your voice pierces the silence of the mansion, both Alex and Marcus startled by the sudden outburst. "Fuck Dieter, just like THAT!"

"Oh bugger this!" Alex exclaims, pushing Marcus aside as she storms through the mansion. "For fucks sake! Christabella!" she shouts, opening up every door she comes across. "BELLA! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" She shouts, making her way towards Dieter's studio. "BELLA! I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE!"

"Hey!" Marcus shouts back at Alex, his composure barely hanging on by a thread. "You can't just enter someone's private property, I could have you arrested!"

"Yeah, well just call my lawyer, then. He is on my sister's payroll, after all!" she sing-songs, making her way up to the door leading to Dieter's studio. "BELLA!" she shouts as she opens the door, gasping at the sudden sight of the both of you stark naked on the floor, with Dieter railing you from behind. You scream at the sudden intrusion, scrambling to cover yourself.

"Dieter," Marcus huffs, "I am so sorry, she just came storming in, saying that shes-"

"Alex!" you squeak, "What are you doing here?"

Dieter looks back at the angry face of your sister, his own expression shifting to confusion. "Who the hell are you?"

"Christa-fuck-abella Martin," Alex seethes, "What on earth has gotten into you?"

"... and who the hell is Christabella?" Dieter asks out loud, rolling himself on the floor in exhaustion.

You grimace as your sister rolls her eyes, throwing Dieter's discarded robe at the both of you. "Please don't tell me you married my sister in that hell hole and you don't even know her real name, mate."

Taglist:@yxtkiwiyxt @skysmiller @picketniffler @readingiskeepingmegoing @islacharlotte

@drewharrisonwriter@missladym1981@amyispxnk@thespookywookies@stevie75

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings@daydream-believer19@survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @gobaaby-blog-blog

[mylittleredgirl]

Hello friend! A friend of mine is doing a Stargate SG-1 rewatch and lamenting the slim pickings of fic on AO3. Do you know where she can find fic that perhaps is still on some old archive of yore? Or have any recs? She's mostly interested in Jack/Daniel and Jack/Sam. Ty!!

oh my. with all the love in the world to your friend visiting us from a very different fandom tax bracket than i have ever had the fortune to participate in (those two pairings have well over 6k fics each on ao3), i'll see what i can do!

[several hours of looking around later] bad news!! not much!

most of vintage sg-1 fandom was wiped out by expired domains, struck-through livejournals, ff.net's porn ban, yahoo lists, etc. some pages are still preserved in the wayback machine for heliopolis, the massive het-and-gen archive, and area52, the slash counterpart, but with the search and directory functions pretty much toast, they're almost impossible to navigate.

fanlore has an old list of archives (including plenty of jack/daniel ones). some smaller archives might yield wayback paydirt, especially if they were hand-coded. samandjack.net is still alive!

and, hate to say it, this was peak era for ff.net and they have like 30k fics over there... but all the explicit fic is gone.

i recently learned some people are still doing het-reccers (user-submitted fanfic recommendations, LJ archive is here). i don't know if any slash equivalents are still around (and i haven't looked at this site for genuinely fifteen years, so i can't speak to the quality of recs).

some sam/jack recs of mine; some of these authors multi-ship:

nanda: her resolution series especially should not be missed and i can't stress that enough. smut and action. fics great fics across the board.

it's kind of difficult to express how popular Salr323's fics were (under a different name) back in the day. i'm told that archive servers would crash when she posted something new. low on smut, high on PINING. rec: it was admittedly 1 am but as i recall this one made me feel like i'd just seen the fanfiction mona lisa

there are quite a few multifandom wonders who cut their teeth in this fandom, including missparker (rec: a small crime)

this cassandra fraiser fic dealt me some damage: nobody dies tonight by isawet

someone who's still in touch with her please harass splash_the_cat for writing 99 sg-1 fics and then walking away without cracking 100. lots of fun little snacks in there including this one

everything anr touches is gold <3

starting to get stressed out about who i'm missing!!!!

if your friend likes D/s this one is fun by tremontaine

lol read my stuff (i never wrote smut for sg-1 though)

hey everyone, please add recs in the notes/reblogs, especially jack/daniel recs because that's out of my wheelhouse but we aim to serve

[grandlinedreams]

hi hi i really love your writing!! if you don't mind a request i was thinking about reader having devil fruit powers, specifically the nagi nagi no mi, and law's reaction to it. he and the reader were apart for some time and in that time she acquired the fruit! thank you!

hiya! aah, that's such a good request, of course I can!! I hope that i've done it justice for you!!

[heads up!: brief mention of Law's light novel, Dressrosa arc spoilers]

“Silent.” 

Despite the low thrum of energy that the murky purple aura emits, you still tense as you slip into the room from the open window, glancing towards the door. Outside, it’s dark and still ㅡ perfect. Turning, you refocus on the task at hand, knowing that you have to be quick. 

Approaching the mahogany desk in the center of the room, your gaze sweeps over the stacks of paper, the neatly lined pens and carefully angled photograph. At first glance, it suggests the presence of a man who’s dedicated to his work, using his family as a motivation. 

Your eyes narrow. What a joke. You’re tempted to swipe the photo and dispose of it, but you also know that it’ll cause more problems than it solves as you crouch behind the desk. The bottom drawer is locked, though it’s a temporary problem solved by the quick work of a hairpin before you slide it open.

The contents at the top are carefully innocent, manila folders with titles scrawled across them, but it’s not what you’re after. It takes a minute of prying around the edges with your fingernails but the false bottom finally pops free, and you stare at the stack of envelopes, the names on them ㅡ and you smirk.

Paydirt. 

The stack of letters are carefully inserted into the satchel slung across your body, false bottom pressed carefully back into place before everything is put back and the lock re-done. You take a couple minutes to make sure absolutely everything is as it was before you entered the room before you approach the window, slipping out of it and making sure to shut it.

It’s a short drop to the ground below, and you glance up at the window, then to the satchel before you turn and slip away like a thief into the night. 

ㅡ

The man before him is an idiot. An influential one, but an idiot nevertheless ㅡ and as Law watches him fluster and attempt to cater to the warlord despite not having said a word yet beyond a greeting, he makes a mental addition of kiss-ass to his assessment. 

“It’s not every day we have one of the warlords here, what an honor!” Shorter than Law by almost a foot and sweating profusely, the man has to take two steps to every one of Law’s in order to keep ahead of him. “You’ll have the finest accommodations here in my estate!”

“Generous of you.” Law glances out one of the many ornate windows, the disparage between the lush, sprawling green of this idiot’s estate and the dull, dusty spider web of town roads beyond it making his eyes narrow. “Especially given that your people seem to be struggling to make ends meet.” 

“It’s nothing to worry about, I assure you.” The mayor blots his face with a handkerchief before stuffing it back into his sleeve. “We’ve been having issues with the locals, but I’m sure we’ll come to an agreement soon.”

Law is far from the biggest fan of the navy even though he now technically “works” for them ㅡ a concession that still makes his mood sour every time he thinks about it ㅡ, but he’ll have no qualms in reporting the blatant corruption when he gets a chance. If they’d even listen, that is. For the difference to be as vast as it is, he wonders if they know and simply don’t care. 

“Ah, just who I was looking for.” The mayor ㅡ whose name Law hasn’t bothered to remember ㅡ comes to a halt, and Law doesn’t look away from his silent observation of the view outside the windows. “Show our guest to his quarters, will you please?”

“Of course, Mayor Tamago.” The newcomer’s voice is vaguely familiar, and it prompts Law to look over, eyes widening a fraction as he realizes he   recognizes the speaker. You stare back, the only sign that you share his surprise being the brief flicker in your eyes, there and gone as you smile at the mayor, who turns to Law.

“This is my assistant, [Name]. They’ll make sure you have what you need.” 

“Right this way,” you say, gesturing for him to follow you down the hall.Once you’re around the corner, you snatch Law’s arm and yank him into the closest room in one fluid movement. Letting go of him, you make sure that the door is locked before rounding on him. “What are you doing here?”

Law raises an eyebrow, arms folded across his chest. “I could ask you the same. You work for that man?"

Your eyes narrow. "No, Iㅡ" You still, turning to eye the door warily. You can't talk here, too risky to use your ability where others can see. "Give me a second."

Law watches as you fish a piece of paper from your pocket as well as a pen, scribbling something down before you hand it to him. "Here. Meet me here tonight." Your eyes flick over him, assessing how he's changed since you last saw him. "We both have explaining to do."

ㅡ 

You've changed a lot since Law last saw you. Leaning against a wall, your arms are folded across your chest, expression contemplative as you stare up at the moon, seemingly unaware of his approach. 

Gone is the gangly teenager who'd glared at him from behind Wolf's back, loud with their fists when sparring and even louder with their words ㅡ but you're still you, just far from what he remembers. 

"Thought you got lost," you say as he approaches, pushing off from where you'd been resting. You've changed out of the outfit from before, wide bands of dark leather braced at your elbows and your knees, along with gloves and boots a shade or two lighter. 

It's in his silent observation that Law becomes abruptly aware that you aren't alone, tensing as someone steps from the shadows. Your expression doesn't change, however, even as you pivot to gesture to your companion. "Law, this is Sabo."

Law isn't dumb. The news coo and word of mouth keep him well informed, and the man standing next to you is familiar only in name and face, printed on the occasional page. 

Sabo is second in command within the Revolutionary Army. His expression is friendly if not a little guarded, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. "[Name] told me they ran into an old friend, but I wasn't expecting it to be a warlord." 

"It's still a new development," Law replies, then glances at you. "I wasn't aware you'd joined the rebels. Is that why you're here?"

You nod. He waits for you to say more, but you're looking around before you glance at Sabo, who debates for a moment before he nods. You lift a hand and snap your fingers before uttering a phrase that Law never thought he'd ever hear again. "Silent."

And suddenly he's ten again, watching that murky purple aura encompass him. But this time he's not standing in an alley, and you're not Corazon. 

"We're taking a big risk telling you all of this," Sabo says, pulling Law's attention from you. "But [Name] trusts you, so I'll trust their judgment." 

ㅡ 

"That devil fruit…" Law trails off as he walks in step with you. He's tried to think of how to broach the subject with you over the last ten minutes in any way that doesn't involve grabbing you and demanding you tell him how and where you came across that particular devil fruit. 

"Surprised, huh?" Your tone is softer now. "I stumbled upon it by accident. I had every intention of letting you know somehow, but…” Your right hand comes up, pressing against the front of your left shoulder. “I landed myself in something of a desperate situation right after, so I…”

“It’s fine.” It’s not, it really isn’t ㅡ but Law tells himself that it is, because there’s nothing he can do about it now. And somehow, he has the feeling that if Corazon knew that it’s you who has his power now, he’d approve. “So you’re done here?”

“Mm. Sabo’s going to turn in that information I stole to the appropriate people, and things should fall into place after. I’ll stay here to make sure, but it shouldn’t take long.” You glance at him, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Why, that eager to get rid of me?”

He smirks. “You’re more tolerable than you used to be. I was going to ask if you’d want to come with me instead. I could use someone with your talents.”

“Yeah, yeah, just admit you missed me already.” Your tone is teasing, though your expression sobers. “As tempting as that offer is, I can’t just abandon the rebels.” You reach for his hand, ignoring the way he tenses as your gloved fingers brush over the stamped letters on his knuckles. “You’ll see me again, Law. Sooner than you think.” It’s a rejection at worst and cryptic at best, and you temper your words with a grin that’s entirely the you of his memories. “Try not to miss me too much until then, okay?”

ㅡ

The next time that Law sees you, it’s after everything that’s unfolded in Dressrosa. It’s far from somewhere that he wants to see you, but when he catches wind from Luffy that Sabo (who’s his brother, of all things) is here, he suspects (read: hopes) that you’re lurking around somewhere as well. 

And he ends up being right, because you accompany Sabo in visiting while they’re tending to various injuries in Kyros’ old house. “Glad you didn’t lose your arm,” you remark when you settle next to him, studying the neat bandaging that covers the healing stitches. “But you did what you set out to do, didn’t you? So congratulations are in order.” 

“It wasn’t how I planned,” Law says flatly and all you do is laugh. You’d gotten the impression from your brief interactions with the Strawhat crew that they weren’t fond of following plans ㅡ and Law’s frustrated expression only hammers that home. He tries not to let himself enjoy your presence, knowing that it’s fleeting ㅡ you’ve been set on a different path than him, ever since you parted ways the first time. 

When Sabo moves to leave after handing Zoro the vivre card he’s had made for Luffy, he expects you to get up and join him ㅡ and when you don’t, Law nudges you. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“Do you want me to? And here I thought you said I was tolerable now.” There’s more than amusement gleaming in your eyes and when he frowns, you roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Sabo and I are parting ways for now. He has business regarding the summit and I’m being sent to deal with the fallout of this fiasco, however it pans out.” You get to your feet, stretching. “And as I recall, a friend of mine made an offer to me a while ago.” You pause. “Does that offer still stand?”

Shooting star that you are, you’ve seen fit to linger for him ㅡ how long, Law isn’t sure. But you’re smiling at him, and it means more to him than he cares to admit.

“Of course it does.”

[coolchevistianofficialsite]

Oh oh it happen again found another rejected Disney TVA pilot/pitch who will become my next hyperfixation until it gets greenlight, no matter how long it takes.... sorry 🥴👋

[gnpwdrnwhiskey]

Conversations with a Movie Star

Chapter 3 - And HBO

Pairing- Dieter Bravo x ofc!Ava

Word Count- 2.1K-ish

Warnings- I'm really not aware of any for this chapter? A little bit of foul language, one food mention, let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note- Technically still on hiatus but surprise!!, I finished something lol! I struggled a lot looking for connective tissue writing this and decided screw it, I'm just gonna put a bunch of scenes together and hope they still flow.....if this chapter had a theme song, it would be Myrtle Beach by Sunny Ledfurd and it would deserve it's own warnings, so I leave it to you to decide if you want to look it up, lol! Big thanks as always to @wildemaven for listening to me whine and supporting me as I figure out what I'm doing 💕

Ava falls into a routine over the next few days, one that as best as Dieter can tell is designed solely to drive him nuts. She's up early and over to the lobby, banging on the inner office door and yelling at him that the coffee's ready. When he manages to get off the couch- he really needs to stop crashing down here- and stumbles out to the lobby, she nags him about the whole lack of breakfast options situation.

And then she disappears for a few hours every day and Dieter goes back to sleep. Like a normal human being. It's like the goddamn Energizer bunny has infiltrated his space. She's just always doing something. It's exhausting.

He has brief moments where he misses the way Anika just worked around him and let him be and even if that was less tiring, he realizes it probably wasn't very healthy either. Ava is slowly breaking him out of the funk he's wasted the last two years of his life in and he'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit that part of him, a larger part than he maybe realized, enjoys having a purpose again. Even a small one.

She's already bullied him into cleaning up the back office, moving furniture and desks and filing cabinets for fucks sake, like he's used to this kind of manual labor all because she thinks it should be a functional space and not just his own personal little man cave.

"You can keep your big squishy sofa and your precious tv and your absolutely ridiculous hippo coffee table. But we're gonna keep them over there," gesturing to one half of the room. "And then over here, people can work."

And then she'd proceeded to go through all seven million filing cabinets she'd made him move- full of old tax records, and licenses and invoices and God only knows what else and then she hit paydirt, if you're into that kinda thing, which apparently she is. Scrapbooks and photographs and the original blueprints for the hotel.

"They always wanted a pool," Dieter muses, looking at the blueprints. "It was never in the budget. And they wouldn't take my money."

"You could do it now. In the off season if you wanted. Nothing stopping you," Ava shrugs.

She's right. He could. He tucks that thought away for later.

"Hey, Miss Rose?" Dieter asks from the doorway of Ava's room. "That woman staying here, the reporter, she bothering you?"

"No, baby, she just asked me some questions and took my picture. Said she's writing a book."

"A book?"

"Not about you, baby. She called it slice of life. Whatever that means," Rose laughs.

"Oh," Dieter relaxes a little bit but makes a mental note to ask Ava about that later. "What do you think of her?"

"You know the rules, baby. You wanna talk, you have to help me work."

Dieter does know the rules. Rose has been working at the motel since before his mom dumped him here and it's always been the same, if he wanted to hang around and pester her or any of the other housekeeping staff, he had to make himself useful.

Dieter sighs but he dutifully steps into the room and grabs the other side of the sheet she's just tossed on the bed.

"So, Ava?"

"You like her, baby?" Rose grins. She's always been able to read him like an open book and this time is no exception.

"Maybe," he admits sheepishly as they finish making the bed. "Which is just dumb right? It's not like she's staying, she's only here a couple weeks."

"Oh, I think you could sway her if you wanted to. That girl's looking for roots. She'd be a good fit for you, baby. Keep you on your toes."

"You think so?" He asks absently as he picks up various perfume bottles and lotions on her dresser, giving them all a sniff before sitting them back down and moving on to the next thing. He opens a drawer full of silky lacy underthings and his brain short circuits. Is this the kind of thing she's wearing under those tiny shorts he spends way too much time imagining peeling her out of? Good Lord.

"I did," Rose says, reaching over him to slam the drawer closed, barely giving him time to get his fingers out of the way. "But if you don't stop going through her underwear, I'm going to tell her you're a creep and she should stay away from you. What is wrong with you, Dieter Anthony! I swear you were raised better than to snoop through a guests things."

Dieter holds his hands up in surrender and starts backing out of the room, he knows when he's been beaten.

"Hey, DB, come play tourist with me."

"What?"

"You never leave the hotel, come play tourist with me. It'll be fun. We'll go to Peaches, get some hot dogs first."

"I was getting ready to watch Harvey," he whines.

"We can watch Harvey tonight. For the seven thousandth time. Please, Dieter?"

"We can't just leave the place unattended."

"It won't be unattended, Austin's here."

"Who the fuck is Austin?"

"Your new afternoon front desk help. You're welcome."

Dieter scrambles off the sofa and peeks out at the reservation desk and the scrawny sun-bleached blonde currently chilling with his feet up on the counter before turning back to Ava.

"You can't just go around hiring people and he looks like a bum!" He stage whispers.

"You're one to talk," Ava snorts. "He's not a bum. He's a lifeguard. And someone has to hire people around here."

"What do you even know about this person?"

"A lot. We hang out. He's saving up so he can go work at a ski resort this winter. Teach kids how to snowboard. He's cool. And smarter than he looks." Ava grabs Dieter's hand and drags him out of the office. "Now let's go."

Dieter reluctantly shuffles along behind her, glaring at Austin the whole time and the kid offers him a big bright white smile.

"Hey, Ava, check it!" Austin yells as they pass, pointing at the computer screen. "Spider solitaire! I can play, right?"

"Myrtle Beach, Myrtle Beach, Myrtle Beach. Goddamn, I love Myrtle Beach!" Ava sings as they walk along the boardwalk and Dieter laughs.

"No, do not get that stuck in my head, Ava. I'm begging you."

"Ha! But you know it, don't you? C'mon. It's so appropriate. You might've passed on the airbrushed tee-shirt but I saw you grab the saltwater taffy and it's bike week and we're missing the Pavilion."

"Everyone will always miss the Pavilion," Dieter agrees, looking towards the empty space that his mind's eye still fills in with the large sand-colored building that had stood there for most of his life. The shade and cool relief it offered from the scorching sun, the sounds of the arcade and the million games of skeeball played, tickets won and traded in for silly trinkets.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Dieter asks and Ava nods, leaning against the boardwalk railing and giving him her full attention. "I flew in to watch the demolition and cried like a baby the whole flight back to LA. No one knows that, I didn't tell anyone I was here. Not even my grandparents. I just....I didn't have a lot of friends growing up here, I was always the weird kid. But the couple I did have, we spent so much time at the arcade or the amusement park. The rickety ass roller coasters and the ancient carousel. Even just sitting at the fucking organ shooting the shit. I know they moved some of it, but it's not the same. It'll never be the same."

Ava studies him, lost in his thoughts, staring at an empty lot and seeing only the past. She likes this side of him. She likes how real he's been with her about things, not just today, but his willingness in general to humor her and answer all her questions about himself and his family and the motel and she impulsively leans in and kisses his cheek bringing his attention back to her.

"What was that for?" He grins.

"Just a thank you. For sharing that with me. So one secret deserves another, right?" She laces her fingers through his and pulls him a little ways down the boardwalk, stopping in front of the Gay Dolphin. "Behold- my most favorite place at the beach."

"Ava, no," he laughs. "Why here?"

"It's an institution, right? A testament to all that is cheap and tacky. The ultimate tourist trap," she smiles at him as they walk inside and Dieter swears his knees actually go weak. "It's cluttered and messy and an absolutely delightful maze of levels to get lost in and you never know what's around the next corner. Will it be novelty ashtrays shaped like sandcastles or porcelain clown figurines for some insane reason? You just never know! It's an adventure!"

Dieter's toying with the shark tooth necklace Ava insisted he just had to have- one of many "treasures" they left the Gay Dolphin loaded down with- running his fingers along the soft leather cord, feeling the rough edges and point of the tooth and then back up the cord while the credits for Harvey play out on the television screen and he knows any second now Ava will lift her head off his shoulder, stretch, and tell him she should go and he realizes he doesn't want her to.

He never really does, but it's different today, it's more than not wanting to be alone, left to his own devices. It's her. He wants her company. He wants her bright eyes and warm laughter, the way she teases him and banters without giving a shit about who he is, or who the rest of the world thinks he is. This whole ridiculous day of playing tourist with her has been the best day he's had in a long time and he's not ready for it to end.

"Hey, Ava, do you wanna have sex with me?" He blurts it out of a long ingrained habit but it's not really what he means and he struggles to explain. "I mean....just like you don't have to go....do you want to stay?"

Ava picks her head up to study him and then she grins, turning to slide a leg over him and settling herself squarely in his lap. Dieter trails his hands up her thighs, the way he's imagined countless times, tucking his fingertips right under the ragged hem of her shorts while she wraps her arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair and holy shit, he didn't ever imagine that would actually work on her.

"I really had a lot of fun today, but not tonight, movie star," Ava laughs. And then she kisses him. Soft. Sweet. Testing the waters. And God yes, is he receptive. And then she's pulling away way entirely too soon to suit him and he kinda hates the groan of disappointment that escapes him as she gathers her things and leaves the office.

Seems like she's always walking away and he's just sitting here like a dumb ass watching her.

"That's not a hard no?" He yells after her and the sound of her laughter floats back to him. He'll take it.

[milkeyedmender2004]

Commissions, starting at $5

Hi all!! My name is Ezra! I'm a 22 year old trans recent grad school... graduate? I think I'm coming close to hitting paydirt on a job, but for now I am still searching and living off my savings.

My prices start at $5 for a black and white sketch (like the bottom two), $10 for a sketch with simple/flat colors, or $15 dollars for a painted sketch, with fees for additional characters. For more information, see my Commissions Page.

Thank you for reading!

[lovely-lavender-doll]

((CWs for this story include drug use and implied death))

“Any questions?”

Your handler’s voice snaps you back to the briefing room, her tone making it obvious which way she hopes you’ll answer.

You smartly shake your head. Every aspiring pilot knows about the incentives programs, the only difference with this one seems to be how they’re metering it out. A proprietary mix of oxytocin, endorphins, and dopamine, squeezed through the neural link between you and your mech.

You blanked on the exact numbers your handler went over, but the gist is simple. A millisecond of sensation for every 10,000 dollars in employer revenue earned by a target destruction. Or maybe 1,000. More likely 10,000 if this is a cost-saving measure. Just enough to keep you right on the edge of juiced through an outing without causing distractions.

Your first high-value target sends you reeling, thighs jamming together in your cockpit as your vision swims and your voice bleeds from you in a strained whimper. The algorithm on the overlay still isn’t perfect, but you could swear the feelings last far longer than the little numbers on the reticle indicated. The kill leaves you trembling and sweating and needy and it is over as quickly as it arrives. The kill leaves you hungry.

You get good at your job. You get really good at your job.

Your outings are a dance from one line of zeroes to the next. Your vision zeroes in on whatever happens to be the biggest payday on the field as you try to string together explosions quickly enough to keep riding the wave of sensations flooding you. There is no feeling worse than the dip between kills, so you simply ensure the dip doesn’t have time to arrive. The end of each mission leaves you a shaking mess, your handler flashing you looks of what might even be concern as she peels you off the field every day.

If you had much rational brain left, you would assume this is where the problem began. But you have very little remaining beyond the feelings of frustration as days without work sometimes bleed into weeks without. You want so desperately to find a way to place that overlay into your field of vision even outside the cockpit, to find which trash cans in the hallway or which pilots in the mess you could empty out for a sliver of feeling, for a slight uptick in your employer’s bottom line.

“They’ve asked for my feedback, you know.”

Her tone is soft over the whirr of the carrier as you make your way to the next drop zone.

“I’m going to recommend the program be terminated.”

A crack in her voice as her eyes try desperately to hold yours before she leads you by the hand to your mech. Her fingers close around yours a little tighter than usual.

You register none of it.

The overlay pops up as your legs hit the ground with a puff of dust. On a whim, maybe because of your handler’s attempt to pull you back up, you turn your gaze up to the retreating transport and the algorithm analyzes it.

There are more zeroes in your field of vision than you can ever remember seeing. A horrible grind of metal on metal as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand to clear away the drool forming. It would equate to hours. Days, maybe.

Paydirt.