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#i was thinking in here they are around 3 years actually
wannab-urs · 3 days
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Scandal
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader
Prompt: Forced Proximity + “You’re going to get us arrested” / “I always wanted to see you in handcuffs.”
Summary: You get locked in a closet with Dieter at the Oscars
Warnings: semi public smut; forced proximity; reader has hair that can have bobby pins in it, is able bodied, is wearing a dress, and is an actress; the barest hint of enemies to lovers, but not really. WC: 1.6k
A/N: Written for a Dieter Bravo Brainrot Server event. Thanks to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @atinylittlepain, and @pr0ximamidnight for reading it for me <3
Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
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You just need to take a breather, that’s all. The Oscars can be a lot for an actress with social anxiety – there’s a million directors, former costars, and producers all vying for a conversation with you, not to mention the cameras catching you from every angle. And to make matters worse, they’ve allowed paparazzi into the lobby this year. 
There’s a coat closet just down this hallway, if you can just remember which door it is. You walk down the ornate hallway and find a door cracked open just slightly, the smell of weed emanating from the gap. You push the door open and step in, closing it tightly behind you. And you should have known from the smell alone who you’d find on the other side. 
None other than Dieter Bravo. 
“Shouldn’t have closed the door.” 
“And you shouldn’t be smoking in here. You’re stinking up everyone’s coats.”
“No, you really shouldn’t have closed the door. We’re locked in now.” 
“What?” Your voice hits a high frequency. You do not want to be locked in a closet with this particular former costar. You try the door anyway and find that he’s telling the truth. 
“I told you.” 
“Fuck, Dieter. You could have warned me!”
He chooses not to respond, taking another hit of his joint instead. He holds his hand out in offering, but you shake your head. Being high and trapped sounds like a recipe for paranoid disaster. 
You slump to the floor, pouting, but grateful they gave you a dress you can actually move around in this year. Dieter sits cross legged across the closet from you. There are coats lining either side of the walls. 
His usually fluffy curls are slicked back and styled to perfection. His nasty green bathrobe and pajama pants have been replaced by a billowing white shirt and fitted black pants. He’s even wearing real shoes. He looks… good. And he’s surprisingly clear eyed for someone smoking an entire joint. 
“You look nice,” Dieter comments. You look down at your dress – the color was chosen specifically to contrast well with your skin tone. The cut shows just enough bust and highlights your body shape. It’s a good dress. 
“Thanks, Dee. I was just thinking the same about you.”
“Oh were you now?” 
You roll your eyes. “Not like that, Dieter. You just clean up nice, is all.”
“I’m not um…” he trails off. 
“Not on coke anymore? I can tell.”
You and Dieter had worked on a project together a couple years ago. It was in the height of his coke addiction and working with him had been an absolute nightmare. He’d show up for work absolutely out of his mind, having screaming matches with the director, the producers, you. And that was if he showed up at all. The project had never even made it to production, leaving you worried your career was ruined. You fucking hated Dieter Bravo. 
But you could never deny how adorable he is. 
“Yeah. Cleaned up. Went to rehab. The whole shebang.”
“That’s good, Dee. Really.” 
You let your head fall back against the door, exposing the line of your throat to possibly the world's horniest man.
“You look really good in that dress.”
“I’m not going to have sex with you.”
You peek an eye open and see Dieter is already halfway across the floor, crawling to you on his hands and knees. He’s pouting at you. 
“What else do we have to do right now?”
You sigh and try the door one more time for good measure, reaching up behind you and tugging on the door handle. Still locked tight. Dieter grins and crawls even closer, settling between your thighs. He reaches out and strokes his thumb across your cheek. You can’t help but lean into it. 
“Always thought you were so beautiful.”
“Sure, Dee,” you scoff 
“I did. I do. Can I kiss you?” 
“Sure, Dee,” you whisper breathlessly. 
He presses his lips to yours gently at first. His lips are soft and plush against yours and you can’t help but deepen the kiss. You open your mouth and his tongue meets yours, hot and wet. Arousal sweeps through you and you bury your hands in his gorgeous curls, holding him against you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. You gasp, causing the kiss to break as your core comes into contact with the hard line of his cock in his trousers. 
“So fucking beautiful,” Dieter mutters into your throat, pressing kisses down into your cleavage. 
He lays you flat on the floor and scoots back, settling on his belly in between your thighs and rucking your dress up to your hips. 
“Dieter, you’re going to get us arrested for public indecency.”
“First of all, I’ve always wanted to see you in handcuffs,” he presses a kiss to your left thigh. “And secondly, I don’t see anyone here to catch us,” he kisses your right thigh, higher up this time. 
He hooks his thumb in the gusset of your panties, stroking your already soaked folds. You moan as quietly as you can. 
“So wet for me, already.” 
You groan as he pulls your panties to the side and buries his face in your cunt. There’s no build up, he eats you like he’s ravenous, like he hasn’t eaten in days. His curved nose grinds into your clit as he laps at your hole. His tongue plunges inside you over and over and you can already feel your core tightening. He slips two fingers in to replace his tongue, drawing circles on your clit with the point of it now. You cry out, much louder than you mean to be, than you need to be. His left hand comes up to cover your mouth, his face now hovering above yours as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. 
“Quiet now, love. Wouldn’t want to get arrested for public indecency.”
The bastard. He thrusts his fingers into you a few more times and you’re coming all over his hand. You bite down on his palm to keep from screaming. He draws his fingers out of you slowly and rights your panties for you. He sucks your come off his fingers like it’s cake batter, letting out a little moan of his own at the taste. 
The door handle jiggles and you both freeze. Just as the lock turns, Dieter grabs you and rolls you both under the lowest level of coats on the side of the closet. You’re on top of him, breathing heavily into his neck. Someone comes in, grabs their coat, and leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind them. 
Dieter goes to roll you both back out but you stop him. You press a kiss to his very exposed throat. 
“I love this shirt. Very Mr. Darcy.”
“It is romantic isn’t it?” 
You drag your lips down his throat to his chest, pressing a kiss to the lowest bit of exposed skin. Your hands find the clasp on his fancy black pants, but you can’t quite get them open.
“The one time you don’t wear easy access pants…” 
“Here, let me.”
You both fumble for a moment before the clasp finally comes open and his cock springs out. 
“No underwear?”
“The lines were showing too bad.”
“Mmhmm,” you quirk an eyebrow at him. 
You wrap his cock in your hand. It’s long, curved a little, and not terribly thick. 
“Pretty,” you mutter before taking the tip in your mouth. He gasps as you suck him down. You swirl your tongue around his head, then flatten it out and let him fill your mouth. He hits the back of your throat and you suppress a cough, pushing him further down. His hands flutter into your hair as you start bobbing your head, sucking him down over and over again. He doesn’t push or pull you, simply rests his hands on the back of your head. 
You pull off him and lick a stripe up the seam of his balls as you stroke his cock. You suck one into your mouth, rolling it gently on your tongue, then switch to the other. 
“I’m gonna–”
You take his cock down your throat again, wanting to swallow his cum. You suck hard on the tip and then drop your lips down to the base as he comes in your mouth. His hips stutter beneath you and he groans. 
You let his softening cock fall out of your mouth and press a kiss to his hip bone. He strokes the back of your head reverently. 
“We should get cleaned up,” you whisper, your voice rough. 
Dieter sighs, but helps you get back to your feet. You take in his rumpled appearance and know you can’t look much better. His chest is covered in lipstick, as is his face. His hair is an absolute mess. His outfit is askew and wrinkled to hell. 
You help him fix his outfit, rub the lipstick off his skin, and finger comb his hair back into some semblance of a style. He pulls bobby pins out of your hair and stows them in his pockets, letting your hair down from the hours of work the stylist did. He smooths out your dress as best as he can. 
“We look…”
“Like we just fucked on the floor of a closet?”
“Yeah.”
He takes a bobby pin from his pocket and picks the lock on the door. 
“You could have done that the whole time?” 
Dieter doesn’t answer. He stands and takes your hand in his and pulls the door open. You’re immediately inundated with camera flashes. The paparazzi have found you. Your agent is going to kill you. 
“I fucking hate you,” you halfheartedly fuss at Dieter. This scandal will be fun to deal with... 
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writingsonsaturn · 2 days
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Tim's wife coming home for good from the army(that's how her and Tim met) and surprises him at the station and meets the rookies who couldn't believe the hardass Tim bradford was such a softie for someone, let alone married -you did very good on my last request thought I'd give you my other one I had in my notes
for good? - tim bradford
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{ masterlist }
🪐: here you go pookie <3 and thank you so much! i had a really fun time writing this
word count: 1.5k
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
The plane ride was tortuous, your leg bounced up and down uncontrollably waiting for your flight to end so you could finally see Tim. 
You had been deployed for nearly two years, and it was hard. Your contract had finally ended, you neglected to tell Tim you had not re-signed it. You had contacted Wade and formed a plan with him to assure everything would go to plan and stay a surprise.
Tim was used to you not calling everyday knowing how busy you were so that was already taken care of, god how you missed Tim. The last several months you knew you were retiring, it was killing you to not share it with Tim but you wanted to be face to face with him, to see the surprise on his face, to be able to hug him tight and tell him you were never leaving again.
As soon as the plane landed you were on your feet reaching for your carry on, you were the first to unboard. Time felt as if it slowed, you looked around and saw families rushing for their flights, and people sitting around or nodding off waiting for their gates to be called. You had almost forgotten what a civilized society looked like, constantly being cooped up on base with people who wear the same clothes, walk, talk, and breathe the same way. 
Your eyes became blurry, the image of everything you’ve missed suddenly hitting you. All of the quiet late night talks you didn't get to have, all of Tim’s milestones you weren't there to cheer him on for, nothing had paused when you left, and it was foolish for you to think they would but a small part of you hoped. Your heart ached but you continued your walk to baggage claim, impatiently waited for your bags to finally come into sight on the conveyor belt. 
The car ride to the station had been long, although you were jetlagged, the excitement of finally seeing Tim was more than enough to keep your body awake. The moment you saw the station it felt like your heart had skipped a beat, the uber driver dropped you off at the main entrance and you walked in suitcases and duffle bags in hand. 
“Hello! Can I help you?”  the sweet front dusk lady asked you with a big smile, “Yes, i'm here to see Sargent, Wade Grey.” you returned the welcoming smile. She made a call, presumably to Wade and then allowed you to head up to his office.
“(Y/n)!” Wade greeted as you stepped your heavy boots into his office, “It feels like I haven't seen you in forever!” he walked over and took your mountains of bags off your shoulders and hands before giving you a warm hug. “It has been forever, Sir” you stated, formalities still ingrained in your head “Oh come on, you don’t have to call me ‘Sir,’ just Wade (y/n)” he laughed, you shook your head with a laugh accompanying his. 
Everyone welcomed you home with open arms, helping you with putting up banners and blowing up balloons, putting confetti everywhere, making the room very loud and obvious that something big was happening. Wade had made Tim go on a patrol run, making up some excuse that he needed Tim to check out an abandoned warehouse that was possibly housing drug addicts. Clearly that was a lie, Wade knew damn well no suspicious activity was going on at that warehouse but he knew it would give the precinct time to set up your welcome home party. 
Tim was very annoyed when he realized there was nothing going on at the abandoned warehouse, it was actually quite clean. Tim sighed and radioed that everything was clear and he was making his way back to the station, on his drive back he had noticed it had been a good while since he heard from you and made a mental note to try and call you later after his shift. 
The moment everyone heard Tim’s radio response stating he was coming back to the station, your nerves shot up, you had missed him so much it was killing you. It felt like your soul was constricting and struggling to wait for its other half to be connected to it again, as you waited, you noticed a few new people appear. They looked slightly confused at what exactly Wade had wanted when he radioed them to come back to the station for an important meeting, “Did we walk into the right building?” Nolan asked looking around comically, you had pointed him out immediately from the way he walked in. 
Tim had told you about the rookies a couple of years ago when they first came in, Nolan, Lucy, and Jackson. He could not stand Nolan and was glad to not have him as his “boot,” while overseas Tim had called you abnormally early telling you about Jackson and although you had not met him, you heart broke for what he could’ve been. You wished you were home to comfort Tim, and you would’ve gone AWOL just to hug Tim if he hadn’t made you promise you'd stay on base.
Now, Lucy, you had felt bad for Lucy because you knew that she was going to fall victim to all the ‘Tim-Tests’ and have to put up with all of Tim’s stern glances and lack of sense of humor. Tim had talked about Lucy quite a few time’s on calls, he told you about what she had gone through and you knew she was going to be an exceptional cop with how brave she stayed during her time in captivity.
Following Nolan’s confusion was who you assumed was his rookie, you had not been told about her yet but she looked sweet and smiled when she saw you in uniform and the sign above your head that announced “im home.” The young rookie had hit the arm of the other rookie, who Tim had mentioned, Aaron Thorsen. You knew the name, and Tim had expressed his concern for Aaron joining the team.
“You must be the rookie’s Tim told me about!” you grinned widely, they all looked at you surprised and even slightly confused “im (y/n), Tim’s wife! Nice to finally meet you guys” you continued with quiet amusement as they were all left with mouths agape. 
“Tim’s wife? The grump was able to get a wife?” the young rookie had asked, looking at you. A small laugh left your body, you knew he wasn’t a big angel at work but you never thought he was that bad to get nicknamed ‘the grump.” 
All of them came up to you, introducing themselves and making small remarks at how different you were from Tim, you were sunshine compared to him. That’s what they said at least.
While you all were talking you heard the familiar voice you have waited so long to hear in person, “What happened? What are you guys all doing here?” Tim questioned fast, wondering why so many colors were blowing up in his face. “That’s no way to talk to your colleagues is it, honey.” your snarky remark nearly made him stop breathing, he looked at you, taking your form in. His eyes were wide and teary “(y/n)?” he croaked out, voice breaking. “Im home” you exclaimed with the same croak to your voice, as if time around you two stood still he ran towards you, sweeping you off your feet as he hugged you. “You’re home? I thought you weren’t getting home till next week? What changed?” He had a million questions and you could only answer him one at a time.
“Tim, Baby, I'm home for good. I didn’t re-sign.” you whispered softly, he looked at you like you had personally created the entire milky way right in front of him. “You’re home. Forever?” his knees almost buckled at the thought of being able to wake up next you everyday for the rest of your lives.
You nodded your head and hugged him tighter, he held you like you were the only woman to ever exist. He silently thanked whoever listened that you were home and safe in his arms.
Once you two were done having your moment, he introduced you to the new recruits, and Angela gave you a hug welcoming you home and telling you and Tim, you all had to go on a double date. You were still shocked she had married a lawyer and now had two children. 
You sat there with Tim, taking in your environment and enjoying the loud laughter and stories on what Tim did for Lucy’s ‘Tim-Tests’, as you sat listening to the god awful stories, you were at peace, sitting around with the people who kept your husband up and safe while you were away.
You had never been happier and you were glad to be able to feel this with Tim right by your side.
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styrofauxm · 2 days
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So you know that thing that's floating around about Vivziepop not wanting to ruin people's fun by confirming Alastor's romantic orientation?
I was going to make a venty (untagged) post about how that's kinda queerbait-y* and arophobic. But then I was like "you know what, I should check the source because I don't remember the exact quote."
And it turns out I never actually saw the exact quote. Nor did anyone talking about it bother to include the context. And while I don't think either removes the queerbait-y* or arophobic aspects of the statement, they certainly make it better than it initially seemed to me.
Here's the stream (linked to the proper place): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5ONxBZoR0A&t=3793s
And here's a loose transcript (it cuts out some less relevant statements in-between but loses almost no context as far as I could tell): https://www.reddit.com/r/HazbinHotel/comments/mle06e/alastors_sexual_orientation_aromanticasexual/
*I am keeping the actual word on the shelf, I just don't know a better one to use here. I think what she said is SIMILAR to queerbaiting but is NOT queerbaiting.
With the queerbait-y stuff, it still maintains the "aromantic people, tune in, this character may or may not be aromantic. We'll tell you eventually, just keep watching!"
With the arophobia, it still maintains the prioritization of shipping over representation, and treats aromanticism as a subsect of asexuality at best, and as flat out not an orientation at worst.
I don't think either is as bad as my original perception, but they certainly aren't good. And keep in mind, this was 3 years ago, any number of things about her beliefs could have changed in any which way since then.
But what gets me is that Vivziepop absolutely did not say that everyone should just let everyone else have their fun. What she said was to have fun and be respectful of his orientation and the people that are represented by him. She says that multiple times.
I'm not feeling this generous, but I guess you could say the fandom had some kind of Mandela Effect over what she actually said.
I think it's more likely that a few people, maliciously or not, spread the incorrect paraphrase without context, and the rest of the fandom, reasonably, believed them.
Anyway the lesson here is check your sources before you contribute to misinformation on the internet.
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Old Scars, New Blood 4
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader has accepted that she’ll never be wanted, not only by the man she’s crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)
Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson
Note: Still sick but going to have to work.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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With meal prep complete, you return to Lloyd’s office to find it empty. The remnants of his earlier spill remain speckled over the desk and floor. You clean it up, leaving a lemony fresh scent in your stead. While you’re at it, you tidy up the bookshelves.
You hesitate on your way to the door. You glance over your shoulder as something tickles in your head. You still don’t get why Lloyd didn’t tell you about Valhalla. For months, he hid that from you. You think about that day in the car and being left on the side of the road. Maybe he’s been planning to cut ties with you for a while.
You stare at the large iMac. It would be wrong to snoop. Even if it isn’t his redeeming quality, you’ve always been honest with Lloyd. You’re just confused. He’s never anything less than straightforward so if he’s going to fire you, why hasn’t he just pulled the trigger?
Maybe… you know too much. That sends a shiver through you. It may actually end with shots fired.
“There she is,” Lloyd interrupts your inner turmoil and you whip around to face him. He’s freshly showered and styled. You can smell the specialty oil he puts in his mustache, “the fuck are you doing in here?”
“Cleaning,” you reply quickly.
“Looks pretty fucking spotless,” he tosses keys at you and you flinch, catching them against your chest, “I need a ride.”
“Um, I can get Jackie–”
“He drives like an old man,” he retorts, spinning on his heel as he snaps his fingers, “chop, chop, kid.”
You swallow your agitation. Usually, you’re better at it. Today you just find him grating. Maybe you’re just a bit sore about him leaving you on the highway. Well, get over it, he’s not apologising.
You follow him with the keys in your hand. He’s several paces ahead of you as you scurry to keep up. His stride is tense as he opens and closes his fists.
As you come outside, you hear a whistle. Lloyd peers over and scuffs to halt as he faces Thor. The large blond bounds over, a shirt with only one button done up displaying most of his chest. He looks over Lloyd’s shoulder and his cheek dimples.
“Running away?”
“Business,” Lloyd says flatly, “I’ll be back.”
“What about my business?” Thor challenges. Lloyd doesn’t respond. “Relax,” he slaps Lloyd’s arm, “I’m ragging on you. Tonight, we will share some of your scotch, eh? Get you nice and loose.”
“Mm,” Lloyd grumbles, “we’ll see.”
“The little one prefers wine, I think,” Thor points over Lloyd’s shoulder, “oh, and she has quite the sweet tooth, eh? You must know that.”
“Whatever. She’s the assistant. Her job is to worry about what I like,” Lloyd sneers, “don’t wait up.”
He turns back towards the car and you send an apologetic smile past him. Thor smirks and winks, flicking his tongue out lasciviously. You blanch and swiftly follow Lloyd.
You still don’t believe what he said in the kitchen. Not only that he said it but that he meant it. You’re certain it’s all just a part of this pissing match between the men. Thor keeps stepping onto Lloyd’s territory, he’ll keep going till he gets bit. You don’t how much longer Lloyd can hold out.
Lloyd’s in the passenger’s seat of the SUV before you even get to the door. You open it and swing yourself in. You hate how big all these vehicles are. You shove the keys in the slot and turn the engine. You shift in the seat and slide your phone out of your pocket, placing it in the cup holder.
You check the time then the mirrors. It’s not unusual for Lloyd to head out later in the day but you didn’t have anything on the agenda. You know better than to ask questions. That’s what he liked about you, if he likes anything about you.
“Would you just fucking drive?” Lloyd growls.
You wince and shift into gear. You look behind you then ahead of you. Thor watches you as you ease into reverse. Or maybe he’s watching Lloyd…
You roll the wheel and turn towards the gate. Lloyd takes out his phone and slumps in the seat as he scrolls and taps. You steer through the gate and pull out onto the road. You don’t even know if you should ask where to go.
“Head northeast,” he says.
Right. You take his direction and turn onto the ramp onto the highway. He grumbles at his phone but says nothing else until you have to get into the exit lane. What is he up to?
You head into the city and he directs you through the main row where much of the nightlife thrives. You’ve been there many times before. He isn’t shy about his nocturnal activities. He commands you past his typical spot.
When he points you into the lot behind a Hilton, you frown. Is he that desperate to get away from Thor? You don’t say a word as you idle by the back wall.
“Right,” he doesn’t look up from his phone as he undoes his seat belt, “I’ll be a while.”
You look over at him confused. What does he mean?
“I’m sure you can keep yourself entertained,” he pokes his tongue out as he smirks at his phone. You catch the glimpse of a chat, a picture sent of a woman in a thong. You cringe and grip the wheel.
“I’ll just go back to the compound–”
“You’ll stay the fuck here,” he tears his eyes from the cell and jabs his finger at you, “you need to remember who the fuck you work for, kid.”
You say nothing as he opens the door and drops out of the SUV. You know this side of Lloyd. His ego is bruised. It happens after rough missions or when an agent gets mouthy. It’s worse now since he can’t do much about his problem. 
He slams the door behind him and you watch him march towards the entrance. You sigh and roll down the windows before you shut off the engine. There’s no use in wasting gas for who knows how long. You’re certain if you get bored, you’ll have enough time to get a coffee down the block.
You grab your phone and shuffle through several apps. You can’t focus on any of the time-eating games you keep for when you’re restless. You have nothing else to distract you. Your sister hasn’t answered the text you sent her a week ago and Lloyd is busy.
You open up your downloaded series and turn on the same show you’ve seen a dozen times before. Still, you’re not paying attention. You don’t think Lloyd is here for business. It really shouldn’t matter to you but it feels extra humiliating to have to wait outside while he does…whatever.
You turn off the show and let the car go silent. You adjust the seat to recline and close your eyes. You’re exhausted. All the chaos has got the best of you. 
Your phone vibes before you can get cozy. It’s Lloyd. You tap the preview so it expands.
‘Need lube. Ten minutes.’
You scoff. Is he serious? Your heart shrivels up as your stomach turns. He’s punishing you. Not because you did anything but because he can’t punish Thor. You’re so so tired.
You grip the wheel and stare at the phone. You wonder if he knows? Is this why he’s doing this? All these years, talking about his escapades, you just assumed it was his usual crassness. He talks like that with everyone. If he’s not boasting about killing, it’s fucking.
Either way, he knows what he’s doing. This is low. You are low.
You open up maps and search for a shop nearby. You fix the seat and pull out, driving numbly as you follow the automated voice directing you through the street. You park without paying attention and get out, nearly stumbling from the height of the SUV’s lift.
You stroll inside the shop with its blackened windows and enter with your head down. Your eyes scan furtively as you search for your goal. The task is made more difficult as the flesh toned silicon and shameless displays set you on fire.
“Hello, hon, can I help you find something?” The man behind the counter asks.
“Er,” you cross your arms, “lube.”
“Alrighty, are we looking for flavoured? Water-based? Oil?”
You blanch as he rounds the counter and strides towards a rack. You shrug and trail after him. You see a black bottle with cherries on it.
“That’s fine,” you pluck one off the shelf and quickly retreat to the counter. “Credit.”
You bring up your card on your phone and tap. The man behind the counter tries to break the tension but you’re not listening. You shove the receipt in your pocket and swipe up the bottle and leave.
Back in the truck, you have to hold back from screaming. What are you doing? You don’t need this shit. Why do you keep bending over backwards for Lloyd when you don’t have a chance? Why have you wasted a decade hoping for nothing?
Because, you don’t have any other options.
You turn the car on and roll out of the lot. You make your way back to the hotel in a haze. You check your phone. He sent the room number and nothing else. You walk into the hotel, ignoring the front desk clerk, and wait for the elevator. You step onto it and watch the doors shut.
You get off and follow the signs to the exact door plaque. You knock with your knuckles, your hand fisted around the bottle. You hear giggling. It’s more than one woman. Footsteps approach the other side.
A woman in an open robe opens the door. She has dark wavy hair and smeared lipstick. Lloyd growls in the background as you glimpse his naked ass.
“Hurry up, sugar tits,” he calls, “I’m starting to chafe.”
You shove the bottle at the woman and drop it. You don’t wait to see if she catches it. You spin on your heel and you’re gone. Your eyes fill with hot tears. Tears like acid. Tears of stupidity.
When you get back to the car, you keel over the steering wheel and heave. You don’t hate Lloyd. You hate yourself. You need to cut it out but somehow, you just can’t. He’s the worst person you know and yet, you want him so badly.
❤️‍🩹
As the sky darkens, you get out of the SUV to stretch your legs. You pace around and check the time. You don’t want to get back in the car. Instead, you wander down the street to the coffee kiosk you drove by earlier. You get an Americano and drag your feet back up the pavement.
You stand outside the SUV and sip from the cup. You chew the paper brim anxiously and look at your phone. Another car door opens and closes.
“Candy?” A man approaches.
You look up, the glow of your face making the stranger nothing more than a dark shadow, “not me,” you back up and press your phone to your chest.
“Oh, sorry,” he puts his hands up, “thought you were someone else.”
You shake your head as he turns and wanders off. You’re not entirely sure how he mistook you for a prostitute. That is what he thought, isn’t it? Candy? Sounds pretty tasty.
You get back in the SUV and lock the doors. You put your phone in the cup holder and it flashes. A message. You don’t bother reading it. You tap your fingers on the console and close your eyes, sipping from the warm cup.
A knock on the other window startles you. You turn on the light and see Lloyd peering in. He winks and tugs on the handle. You hit the locks and sit up.
He gets in and lets out a sigh, “ahh, I feel good.”
You don’t say a word as you slip your cup into the empty holder beside your phone. You start the car and press the gas. As you come to the exit, Lloyd yawns and stretches his arm between the seats, gripping yours above your shoulder.
“I’m fucking starving, let’s hit a burger joint,” he says as he rubs his stomach, “you don’t think I would be with how much I ate.”
He cackles and you bite down. You don’t understand it. He repulses you and yet there’s that sharp pang in your chest.
“You see the tits on Kasia? Fucking pert–”
You veer onto the next street and he hits the door with the motion, “hey, be fucking careful.” He shifts in his seat as he touches his crotch, “I’m tender.”
You sniff and pull into the drive through. You stop by the menu, “what do you want?”
“Get me some of that honey chicken and some rings. Extra honey sauce for the rings. Oh, and a sprite.”
“Sure,” you answer as you drive up to the speaker. You recite his order and the fuzzy response tells you to drive up to the window.
“What’s up? You’re not hungry?”
“I’m fine,” you insist.
“Aw, you on another diet,” he taunts, “bone broth?”
“No,” you answer flatly.
“I’m not sharing my rings,” he says.
“I don’t want any,” you insist.
“You’re fucking testy,” he accuses as you pay.
“I’m tired,” you utter and roll up to the pick-up.
“You’re tired? Fuck, my back is aching from all that thrusting.”
“Would you stop?” You snap before you can stop yourself, “I don’t want to hear about your dick anymore.”
He snorts and sits up straight, “excuse me, kid?”
“I don’t care,” you reach over and give a blunt thanks to the drive-thru worker as you take the paper bag. “Why don’t you shut up and eat?"
You shove the bag in his lap then take the cup and move your phone to plant it firmly in the holder. You follow through the lane and back onto the street. The silence is still and stolid around you.
“If you wanted to join in, you just had to say–”
“No,” you snip. You know he’s not serious, he’s teasing you. You’re a joke to him. “No, I don’t want that.” You grip the wheel tight and bite down until your jaw hurts, “I don’t want you.”
He inhales and blows it out heavily through his nose. The bag crinkles as he opens it and reaches inside, unleashing the smell of chicken that makes your stomach rage. You ignore the discomfort and focus on the road.
“Learn to take a fucking joke, kid,” he snickers, “maybe then, you’ll catch a dick or two.”
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mixiury · 2 days
Text
Sunlight knocking outside of your window.
Character(s): Wanderer x GN Reader
Warning(s): Depressive thoughts and in general signs of depression.
Summary: When days seems meaningless, someone is there for you. (OR how he helps you during a depressive episode)
A/N: I wrote this as a comfort for myself a year ago or so. I never meant to publish it but, now that I am in a better place, I thought that it may help anyone who is going through the same, so here it is <3 Requests are open btw!
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Shivers run through your body despite being covered in sheets and blankets. Everything is so cold, the type that numbs out your senses until all you can feel is the freezing sensation taking your body. Just the idea of getting out of the bed is unimaginable, too tired to even move from your position.
All corners in the room sumerge you in their darkness, as if waiting to consume you whole. You don't resist it. There is just not point on it. Instead you close your eyes and let it drive, taking you whatever it wishes. Maybe if you pray hard enough you will be somewhere else. A unreachable place where pain can't find you, far away from your own mind.
Just five more minutes of sleep never hurt anybody, and sometimes resigning is far better than keep fighting an endless war, but when you open your eyes you are still in your room. Motionless. Fixed to the same thoughts that never seem to leave.
Some days are harder than others, they say, but in reality, they are not. They are incredibly easy, and that somehow makes it worse. You have no right to pity yourself when all you do is eat and sleep for hours, if not days, while other people works so hard to get half of what you have. It's shameful, really, but you can't force yourself to care enough to do something about it.
You try not to focus too much in your surroundings, intentionally ignoring all the clothes and papers around your bed. They are in the floor too, memorizing exactly the place of everything just so you don't step on them. It has be getting harder as more and more trash gather around, but everytime you set your mind in cleaning something comes out. You just don't have time for it, you often tell yourself. Maybe, if you say it enough times, one day you will believe it.
Actually, what time is it? The urge to check your phone suddenly overcomes you, although quickly give up on it when you realize it is completely dead. It doesn't even matter, you think. Days are all the same anyways, your shrug it off. You don't even remember the last time you did anything outside of roting in your room. Your memory has gotten worse, or maybe it has gotten better because, when you have nothing to do, everything is a little reminder of it.
How you wish you could just sleep this uncomfortable feeling crawling off your chest as worms eating your flesh, yet, despite how tired you are, your body stubbornly refuse to shut itself off once again. It must have gotten tired of that too, you just hoped it would do the same with you. But as much you would like that to happen, all you can do is stare at the ceiling. In a weird, incomprehensible way, It stares back.
It's impossible to know how long you stay like that, it could have been hours just as it could have been minutes, but what brings you back to reality is a knock on your door, the numbness suddenly replaced with annoyance as you slowly realize it won't stop anytime soon. The person outside of your room must know how stubborn you can be, because at some point they just stop knocking and abruptly break in. Rude. Maybe you should be scared that someone was able to get inside your house that easily, but instead you only burry yourself in your blankets, the light from the outside dazzling you.
Doesn't take you to see his face or hear his voice to know who is the intruder, although the recognition doesn't make it any better nor your annoyance any less.
"How do you even walk in here?"
"Good morning for you too."
"It's 5 pm. In what world is that morning?"
"In mine."
"And in it is this good too?"
"Definitely not after you burst through my door."
You hope that he would finally get the message, turn around and leave you alone, but all he does is huff and start gathering things off the floor, matching your own stubbornness. Although irritating, you know better that try to kick him out, already familiar with this routine between the two of you everytime you or him fall into these "episodes", coming unwelcome to the other's place just to check if they are still alive, most of the time after a week or two of not news or signs of life.
It is an unsaid agreement that you both did when opening to each other for the first time, something you sometimes are grateful of and others regret it, specially when he is the one breaking in and not the other way around. You wonder if he feels the same, but either way, none of you ever talk about it.
"Don't move anything, you are just going to make it worse."
"Stop whining and be grateful I'm doing this in the first place. Your whole room is already a mess, there is literally no way to make it worse."
Your mind screams to tell him how you know the place of every single thing on the floor and how he is just desorginizing your whole complex system you carefully created, but that would just start an argument about how stupid that is and you just don't have the energy for it right now. Yet, with the blankets on top of you to still cover the light, you decide to throw him a dirty petty look, one which once again is matched by him at first and later ignored.
Finally, you give up, fully using the blankets as a shelter and burying yourself in them like before.
Speak feels too much, listen feels too much, eat feels too much, get up feels too much, sleep feels too much, exist feels too much. You can't even continue staring at the ceiling because that would mean uncover your eyes completely and the lights are also too much for your eyes. All you wish is for Wanderer to give up on you just like you gave up in yourself, maybe if he did you wouldn't feel as a burden anymore. Maybe you would finally stop caring at all. But when has Wanderer ever listened to someone besides himself? Just like talking to a rock, or in this case, puppet.
"Stop overthinking. Self pity won't take you anywhere."
His voice guides you out of your thoughts, but not out of the all consuming emptiness and loneliness that usually fallows with them. He knows it all well, the feeling of just wanting to dissapear out of thin air to never be remembered nor found. That should be comforting, yet it isn't. Understanding does nothing against it, pity makes it worse, and help is terrifying, no matter from who it comes.
"All I want is to go back to sleep." Half a truth. You don't need to finish that sentence for him to get it.
"When was the last time you ate anything?"
What were you supposed to answer to that? You don't even know what day is it. It could have been just some hours just as it could have been days. Last time you checked your fridge there was nothing left to eat so you just went back to the bed and haven't bothered of eating anything ever since. You should have ordered something, anything, but you must stink after so many time without showering and you just didn't want to interact with anyone like that.
"Time is relative."
You try to hide it but embarrassment crawl out of your body as the realization kicks in, hands instinctively reaching for your pillow and using it to cover yourself with that too. If seeing your room was bad this was ten times worse. You haven't noticed until now, but your hair is greasy and your clothes sweaty, sticking to your skin in a very uncomfortable way. Although your nose can't catch it, it would be surprising if you don't smell too, for once grateful that your friend doesn't exactly have a human body to notice that.
Now, besides feeling completely useless, you also feel self conscious, isn't this so great?
He sighs and you are so sure he is going to leave. It is weird, all this time everything wanted is for him to get out as soon as possible, but now that feels so degrading, not that you would blame him if he does.
"I'll cook something but first I need you to get out of the bed."
Of course. You almost forgot this is Wanderer.
"I don't want to get up."
He stares at you. You stare back harder. All those stare competitions with the ceiling will have to paid off somehow.
Both of you stay like that until he finally resigns for the first time today, going back to clean around. It is surprising how he did so much in about an hour, actually being able to see the floor now. You will just blame his anemo vision for it, because the alternative is that you are just useless at literally picking stuff from the floor and you aren't really fan of that conclusion.
You must have spaced out because the next thing you feel is the weight of the bed suddenly shifting, Wanderer getting on it too as he ignores all the stuff on top of it. Your mind begs you to push him away, but your body moves a little to the edge, giving him the space to actually fit. Maybe any other day you two would fall into a teasing exchange, mocking each other and trying to get under the skin of the other only to forget how the conversation started in the first place. However, as familiar you are with those conversations, it just doesn't feel right anymore. Not right now.
"Here is what we are going to do; We stay in bed for 15 minutes more, after that we stand up and you go and take a shower while I cook you something. When we are done we can watch a movie, play something or hang out outside, what do you say?"
"Make it twelve minutes, let me pick the movie AND the games. You have terrible taste."
"Fine, but then you agree to open the windows because this place looks like a fucking cave. Also, I refuse to play Animal Crossing."
"Animal Crossing is way better than any other game you play."
"My choice is final. We can still play that stupid cult game where you are a goat or something."
"Is a lamb."
"Whatever, we have a deal?"
"Do I even have any other choice?"
Wanderer smiles slightly, greedy and proud, while you reluctantly accept your final defeat for today. The only difference is that, this time, you don't feel as alone as before, forming a smile of your own too. Maybe a little of light isn't so bad after all.
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prophecyofwinter · 3 days
Text
Across the Sea and to the East
Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader
Summary: Under your uncle’s usurpation of your brother you have been sent away to hide in Lys under House Rogare. You’ve found new purpose with the Lord of Light but you will be called home soon.
Tags: slight slow burn, actual burning, violence, smut, angst, Aegon is his own warning, tags will be added as we go.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 (Prologue)
Chapter 2: Aegon the Ever Persistent
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“Queen Alicent, may I borrow your ear for a moment?”
Larys Strong spoke up to Alicent when she entered her own chambers to find him there by himself. Rather a disturbed one he is.
Alicent looks around slightly perturbed but approaches nonetheless, taking the seat across from him and taking a deep breath before speaking.
“What is so important that it could not wait until tomorrow?”
“You had told me many many moons ago that if anything about Lady Y/N’s Death made its way through to come to you immediately, so here I am.”
Seven years ago Alicent had to inform young Aemond of Lady Y/N’s passing and he was inconsolable for days until he heard of her funeral and ran away on Vhagar to witness it himself.
When Aemond arrived back he was beyond bewildered, Alicent didn’t even have time to yell at Aemond before he said.
“He did something to them…”
Your uncle had attempted to prevent him from even peeking at your burial, telling him to go home before he gets Winterfell in trouble for housing a runaway Prince. With his little boy strength he pushed through your uncle and his sons to see, nothing, there was nothing in the casket. Any Targaryen-born person would know well enough that even bones would still remain after a little fire like that.
He had been rushed away and all but kicked out of Winterfell.
He begged his Mother to punish your uncle for it must’ve been his fault. She told him she couldn’t do anything as there was no proof he had done anything to you or Cregan.
Alicent mentioned to Larys in passing to tell her if anything regarding you was mentioned through his web of spies.
7 years later, she’d honestly mostly forgotten about that interaction.
“…What is it?”
“House Glover has personally sent two Direwolf pups to Lys for House Rogare.”
“So? Lysandro probably got the taste for exotic pets, or one of his children wanted a dog.”
“Don’t you find it, a small coincidence that Lysandro Rogare adopts a child slightly after the ‘death’ of Lady Y/N? And coincidentally receives two Direwolf pups from Y/N’s mothers house? House Rogare has been wanting to stick their hand in Westerosi politics for years before this.”
“I suppose, but, what do I do with this? I can’t tell Aemond. He’ll run off to Lys like he ran off to Winterfell.”
“It is no matter to me, I simply told what you wanted me to tell. And do not worry, this information is free.”
Larys takes his leave and slowly makes his way out of Alicents chambers leaving her to dwell with this knowledge.
Alicent takes a deep breath to think, closing her eyes and restarting her old habit of picking at her skin, but as a Queen, a Wife, and a Mother. There truly is no real rest.
“Aemond will be thrilled to know won’t he? Let me tell him.”
A joking voice comes from the chair in front of the lit fire, Aegon. That little shit.
“What are you doing here?! Do I get no privacy even in my own chambers?!”
“Whattt, I like coming into your chambers. I like the ambiance, Mother. You know what, I’ll go tell Aemond right now. He should be at the training grounds at this time-“
Aegon was cut off by a cut through the air with a slap. Alicent has stricken her eldest once again, oh how he drives her there so fast. She tries to keep the peace between her children, yet Aegon is always stirring the pot.
“You will not be telling Aemond of any such thing! You will not have him on a wild goose chase after a dead girl! Do not give him hope! You have tormented your brother enough! And for Sevens sake get the hells out of my chambers Aegon!”
For the one time in moons Aegon is sober for an hour, it's when Alicent needs him to be drowned in his sorrows.
Aegon puts his hand on his burning cheek and turns with his tail between his legs to no doubt run to the taverns and whore houses.
Though Aegon always has had a loud mouth, especially when drunk.
—————————
Aemond attempts to sit in peace and quiet as the storm outside rages on. Rain tends to make his eyeless-socket ache, so he blows out all the candles and lays back to let the pain take its course for the night. If no one else bothers him for the rest of the night-
“Aemondddddddddddd!!!!!!”
Maybe if he pretends that he isn’t in his chambers-
“Aemondddddd I know you’re in thereeeeee!!!!!!!! It’s your big brotherrrrrrr!!!!!!!!”
Aegon the ever persistent is what they’d call him if he was King…
Aemond sighed and put his eyepatch on but left his sapphire to soak in a goblet of water. Sometimes he could out wait Aegon if he was drunk enough but the night is still young…
Aemond opens his chamber doors and instantly moves out of the way to let Aegon fall onto the floor in the doorway. Aegon climbs to his feet stumbling here and there but making it to Aemonds chair.
“What do you want brother?”
“I have a little tiny little- um secret from mother, but!- you can’t tell Aemond because mother told me not to tell Aemond so you can’t tell Aemond or mother will get mad at you for telling Aemond, alright Aemond?!”
What in the seven hells is wrong with this boy? Aemond did not like not knowing things, and it would not be his fault for letting Aegon ramble on…
“Alright, I promise not to tell Aemond anything.”
“Great! I would have dieddddddd without telling someone this! I-I overheard mother talking to Larys about that little Stark girl you fancied when we were kids. He told herrrrr that she might still be alive in, get this! Lys with House Rogare! Can you believe that?! Bet she’s a real beauty now… yes…”
Aemond felt his blood rush cold and his body couldn’t move, not once in his life had he been unable to think, unable to speak…
“Aemond? Where did you go? Are you even listen-“
Aemond couldn’t bear to hear Aegon speak another fucking word, he grabbed the elder boy by the face to shut him the hells up.
“Are you sure that’s what you heard Aegon? Are you so certain you’d bet your life that she’s alive?!”
“Well thatsssss a bit of a stretch for a girl that I do not care for but…”
Gods he is fucking insufferable, but if that meant Y/N was alive… he would bear through his drunken rambles… His mother wanted to keep this from him?
“Why did mother keep this from me- I mean Aemond.”
“Well- you know how Aemond got when her Uncle buried her, he ran away and got his arse locked out of W-Winterfell…”
“Ae- Aegon!”
Aegon started falling asleep in Aemonds chair, once he fell asleep it was near impossible to wake him up. Aemond didn’t want his drunken brother throwing up on his floors.
“I’m up! Well, look at the moon, the night is still young I have to get back out, whores won’t fuck themselves. I have to pay them to do that.”
Aegon hoists himself out of the chair, surprisingly keeping his balance and giving Aemond a big pat on the chest. Not before taking a big gulp of the goblet where Aemond soaks his eye-sapphire in.
“Disgusting, your Wine tastes like water… Where did you get ice at this time of year?”
As quick as he comes he’s gone again. Leaving Aemond baffled and dumbfounded but with a new sense of purpose nonetheless.
If you were in Lys, he has to know, he must know, if it’s the last thing he ever does.
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animentality · 2 days
Text
I just wanna remind the class that Sirius Black was an awful character. He basically did nothing to help or protect Harry through all of the books where he was alive, and while I agree that Harry sucks, and I wouldn't want to protect him either, it's still a mark against his character and speaks to like, the total incompetence of JK Rowling as a writer.
In book 3 he endangered the trio by dragging Pettigrew under the Whomping Willow and getting them involved in his bullshit, when he could've just waited for a better opportunity instead of literally diving on Ron in front of his friends and dragging his ass away. Like really? Harry is in Gryffindor, idiot, he's not gonna let his best friend get eaten by a dog. Also Harry had to watch his parents die. You really wanted him to watch you murder a guy? You're stupid as hell.
You're also a fucking dog, and Pettigrew is a RAT. Neither of you have a wand. You can easily outpace a rat and then tackle him if he tries to change into a human. Also Crookshanks. Corner him when he tries to make a run for it. Don't dive on him when there are people around.
Also even if he runs, what the fuck is stopping you?
You have nothing going on. No 9 am meetings. Chase him away from Hogwarts so you can hunt his ass in peace. Don't bring Harry into it at all. You have nothing but time.
Then the only good thing he does is lose Pettigrew, vaguely save the kids from a werewolf, which is kind of his fucking fault, I might add.
And then passes out so that Harry can save HIM. Then he has to be saved again from returning to Azkaban.
Now you can at least excuse book 3 Sirius because the guy is absolutely nuts after 12 years in evil wizard prison. He's cracked and he's not thinking straight. And him being hunted by the government isn't really his fault. He's a red herring. The big plot twist is that he's not evil and that's "fine." It's acceptable.
But book 4?
Oh my god he's so useless.
He's there for Harry to send letters to, and then NOT help him at all.
The only thing he does is get interrupted by Ron before he can tell Harry to do something really stupid, which is hit the dragon in the fucking eye, something that could've easily gotten him burned or stomped on, or still hit with the Horntail's tail. Harry basically figured it out because of fake Moody, not Sirius.
Then Sirius' guidance is just a red herring of "oooh watch karkaroff" gee thanks buddy.
I'm so glad you're here just so JK Rowling can misdirect the audience. Again.
He also gives exposition about Barty Crouch.
Again, for the misdirect, of thinking Barty Crouch is bad.
But that's it.
There are far better ways to give exposition on Crouch. I'd argue the movie did it better and in a more dramatic way.
He then does nothing whatsoever to help Harry with the 2nd or 3rd tasks. His greatest utility is as a support animal at the end of book 4.
It's actually amazing how he does nothing for the entirety of Goblet of Fire.
He basically just comes back to Britain so he can die in the next book.
And then that's where he's at his worst before dying.
He encourages Harry to do dangerous and stupid things. He does stupid things himself and makes Harry, the 15 year old boy, worry about him, a grown ass man, because he hates being home.
I know that people have childhood trauma and all that, but for fucks sake.
He would not be a suitable guardian for a child ever because he puts himself first.
And before you fuckheads start insisting that's the "tragedy" of his character and it's so emotional and deep, yak yak, I don't want to hear it because he's a fucking plot device before a character.
His whole role in book 5 is to make you think he's gonna do something stupid.
And then he does.
And then he dies.
And it's crazy because he's a wildly popular character, despite the fact that he's terrible. But I can't even really criticize the popularity, because it's mostly carried by Gary Oldman being hot, and also doing a way better job of making us give a shit about him.
I can't express enough how absolutely stupid and awful it was for Sirius to brush Harry off when he was afraid he was becoming evil after seeing nagini attack Arthur!! this is the last fucking book Sirius is alive and this is like the last time they really get to talk one on one.
the scene with Gary Oldman telling him he's not evil... it literally outweighs every fucking Sirius Black scene in the goddamn books!! and it's an original scene.
the director realized that we have to remember we actually like Sirius because of how little he has to do in the main plots.
but it fucking worked.
the warmth that Gary Oldman exudes in that movie is genuinely charming.
but the book Sirius???
NOT. IT.
There's nothing wrong inherently with excusing some of this crap for drama or storytelling purposes, I just object to the fact that the character himself could've been far more interesting and sympathetic.
He could've actually been helpful or proactive or had something to do with the plot that wasn't just acting as a red herring, which I might add he did literally 3 times. First he's not a villain, second it's not Karkaroff or Crouch, and then third he's not actually in the ministry building, Harry's just an idiot.
The childhood best friend of a kids dead father has so much potential.
But he's shuffled and sidelined and treated like a prop before a person. His charming nature is just for fun, it doesn't actually bring anything out of Harry, aside from the protectiveness he feels for all of his friends.
He's vaguely funny sometimes and cracks a few jokes and tells the kids they're dumb every once and a while.
And that's it.
I really can't express enough how absolutely fumbled his character is. We don't get enough of him talking about James or his time at Hogwarts.
Ironically Snape gives Harry way more info on what his dad was like, in like, all of his flashback scenes.
We never got to see the warm side of James that wasn't associated with bullying Snape.
Sirius would've been a great way to balance that out... but we never get his perspective on it.
He's there to dump exposition and be saved.
And it's such a waste.
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mercurial-cool · 3 days
Text
💜Ambrosia Progress Update 💜
Hello lovely Bloodweave community! Since my last post was me nearly four months ago saying that a new Ambrosia chapter would likely be coming by the end of the year (lol), I just thought I'd pop back in here to give a quick little "proof of life" post and reassure anyone still wondering that, at least in theory, it still has not been abandoned -- I just took a little time away from working on it for various reasons.
[That's the important part of what I wanted to share, but I'm inserting a cut below for some additional self-indulgent rambling for anyone who wants a bit more context.]
One reason for the hiatus was that my job got crazy towards the end of the year, which both took away from my writing time and also my BG3-playing time, making it harder to jump back in and capture the characters' voices as accurately as I felt I could when I was playing more regularly. And the other, more recent and much sillier reason is that I accidentally and unexpectedly stumbled into an obsession with Formula 1 and had some writing ideas for that fandom that my brain demanded that I act on immediately... so, if you subscribed to me for Ambrosia updates and get a notification soon that I've de-anoned 45k words of (AO3 member-locked) Formula 1 RPF, I am so sorry for the possible bait-and-switch lmao. (But congratulations to the, like, three other people who might exist with me at the center of the Venn diagram of those two fandoms haha... I'd love to know if you're out there!)
I'll admit that I've felt guilty for doing that other writing while Ambrosia was still unfinished. I've never had anything I've written come anywhere close to the level of popularity that Ambrosia has reached, and it was something I've truthfully found a little overwhelming at times. At the very least, it's prompted me to feel quite a bit more anxious and perfectionistic about whether any new chapters I put out "live up to" the bar that's been set by how much people have enjoyed the previous chapters. None of that is to diminish how unbelievably appreciative I am of the people who have taken the time to read and comment on Ambrosia -- I still read and am grateful for every single comment that comes through, even though I've done a shit job of responding to them lately (another source of no small amount of guilt).
But I think I needed to take some time to do some writing that didn't have the self-imposed pressure of quite so many eyes. And now that I've done that, I'm excited to return to Ambrosia refreshed and with a healthier perspective. I know better than to actually try and give a timeline this time around for when the next chapter might be out, but just know that I'm once again actively working on it, and I'm very excited about some of the writing that I've already completed. :)
Thank you (and/or I'm sorry) to anyone who bothered to read this far, and hope you're all doing well. <3
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dearhargrove · 2 days
Note
Heyyy!! I have another eddie diaz request if that's okay? This time Eddie is planning to propose to reader and is a bit nervous but possibly gets chris involved holding a sign and turns around to eddie on one knee? Or they're at home getting ready for bed and he just proposes there and then as he can't think of a more perfect time. The first idea could be at home or the firehouse? All cute adorable and fluffy. Thank you!
Proposal
summary You're scared when Eddie calls you and tells you to urgently come to the firehouse - turns out there's no reason to be scared.
word count 1170
tags just pure fluff, Chris is a precious angel and I'll fight for him w my life
a/n unsure about this but here we go!! Thanks for the request <3
masterlist
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You're preparing dinner when your phone rings - the ringtone you'd picked specifically for Eddie.
“What's up?” You ask, putting him on speaker so you can keep your focus on the vegetables you're chopping.
“Can you come over? To the station?” He doesn't sound relaxed - as you'd expected - but instead he sounds stressed and nervous, speaking hushed and fast. “Uhm, yeah. What's going on, Eddie?”
You hear him clearing his throat but he doesn't answer your question, “Just please come over.” Now you were actually freaked out. Wasn't he in the middle of a shift? Why would he need you to come over? Chris was at school and all of your mutual friends were with him.
Before you can try getting him to talk and explain what's going on he hangs up, leaving you in the dark.
You shove the vegetables into a Tupperware box and store them in the fridge before grabbing your keys and hurrying to your car.
When you arrive about ten minutes later you almost forget to lock your car, already calling for Eddie. Noting how instead of the usual buzzing around of several people, the firehouse seemed empty.
“Eddie?” You call out again, walking between the firetrucks with your phone clutched in your hand as you'd forgotten your purse in the hurry.
Huffing when you can't find him you stop walking and look around again, “Eddie! I came as quickly as I could, where are you and what was so urgent?” You hope he's the one hearing you and not some colleague you'd never met because that would just be embarrassing.
He looks over the railing of the loft, a pinched expression but otherwise fine expression on his face. He didn't seem to be in pain nor in any haste - you were getting gradually more annoyed by the fact you had sped here, expecting some grand emergency.
“Come up,” he says and licks his lips, a habit of his when he is nervous. You squint suspiciously and walk up the stairs.
When you do, he stands at the end of the stairs, blocking your vision from the rest of the loft.
“Eddie? What the hell is going on?”
He swallows and you can see some sweat beading on his forehead and temple. Worriedly you put the back of your hand against his forehead, not feeling any high temperature which simply confuses you more. He stares basically blankly at you before finally moving again.
“Baby,” he starts and at any other time you would've immediately smiled and melted into a puddle of adoration for this man, but right now you're slightly pissed he'd stressed you for seemingly no reason.
“We've been together for almost two years.” He keeps going and you nod slowly. What is he getting at?
“I love you. More than anything else.” You smile and chuckle a bit, “Excluding Chris…” He looks down with a short laugh and nod, “He loves you too.”
“Eddie, this is super cute and wholesome but why did you want me to come here for that? Any near death experiences I should know about that prompted this?”
He bites his lip and shakes his head. He slowly and gently intertwines his hand with yours and kisses the back of yours, holding eye contact. It makes you smile and fluster, looking to the side with a shy smile.
“There's no one in this world I could imagine being a better woman to me than you. You complete me and Chris. And I want to… I want to ask you something.”
It feels so surreal what he's hinting at that you don't believe your own intuition, simply wiping your eyes, “Eddie, don't make me cry I'll look like a panda,” you warn for a lack of a reaction, hoping your mascara at least survived the first few tears.
He chuckles and then slowly gets on one knee, your hand still cradled in his. You can't contain your sob when he kneels, making it clear what he's going to ask you.
Instead of asking the question he looks over his shoulder where Chris starts walking your way, a sign in his hands with that exact question on it. When Chris stands next to Eddie and looks at you with that adorable smile you can't help but sob, quickly reaching out to pull him into your arms and kiss the top of his head.
Catching Eddie's gaze you nod your head and bury further into Chris, “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”
The boy in your arms giggles and drops the sign to wrap his arms around your waist. “Told you, dad!” He calls and you laugh tearily.
“Yeah, you did, bud.” Eddie smiles fondly and wraps his arms around both of you. You see Buck motioning Chris to come to him, which he gladly does, considering Buck is still Christophers hero, and you hide your face behind a hand as Eddie slowly slides a ring onto your left hand.
There's an applause behind you from the rest of your closest friends, Chris sitting on Bucks hip as he giggles.
However you're focused entirely on the man in front of you, his hazel eyes teary as well when he kisses your knuckle and leans his forehead against yours.
“Te amo mucho, mi amor,” he mumbles against your forehead and kisses it, making you laugh happily. He wipes the last of your tears tenderly and you look at him with pure adoration.
“I love you so much.” He smiles and someone yells - you're pretty sure it's Buck because a smaller, high pitched voice echoes the same word - ‘kiss!’.
You shake your head in amusement but are caught off guard when Eddie surges forward and passionately and deeply kisses you, one hand holding you by your neck and the other still holding your left hand.
“Ew,” Chris says loud enough for everyone to burst into laughter and you and your now fiancé to laugh as well and break the kiss.
“What?” He asks offended when Buck pinches his side (though he looks like he could very well be the one to make Chris voice their shared distaste for the PDA).
You smile at the people you considered family, especially when Bobby clears his throat and points to the already set table, “Dinner’s ready, so let's eat!”
You sit between Eddie and Chris, the former's hand never leaving your thigh, yours laying on top.
“I just realized this means we're gonna have to deal with their PDA every day now…” Buck mentions, looking genuinely scared.
Hen seemingly kicks his shin under the table because he yelps and flinches before pouting and raising his hands in mock surrender. And wow, you couldn't be happier.
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The Magnus Archives spoilers but I keep thinking about Jon and Martin landing in the ISAT universe when the fears arrive but like. Right after post loops. So it ends up like:
1) They save these two weirdly accented guys (where one of them clearly has been stabbed holy shit) only to possibly be immediately told that they just got a bunch of evil gods in their world (oops)
2) Jon's eyes absolutely have color when Knowing things or using Eye powers in general.
3) The loops 100% count as a statement and Jon is purposely trying not to be alone with Siffrin so he doesn't munch on their trauma
4) Triple ace solidarity ruined by the knowledge their world is doomed to be plagued by fear gods U.U
5) Martin: "Jon did the fears turn this world black and white" Bonnie:"what's black and white?" Martin: "what" Bonnie: "what" Isabeau: "No but seriously what's black and white." Odile: "I think they're implying that colors exist in their world." Jon: "I see. Colors are apparently unnatural to this world." Martin: "Like that one Lovecraft story?" Jon: "what". Martin: "You know colors beyond our comprehension and what not?" Jon: "I- I suppose??" Bonnie: "Hey! Could this Lovecraft guy be from our world?" Mirabelle: "Wait no. These two just arrived here??? Unless time messed up too???" Jon: "Trust me you do not want to claim him."
6.a) Jon looks at least 10 years if not older than he actually is. He also probably can get along better with Odile anyway. Plus with different universes as backgrounds, the lack of general knowledge around his age wouldn't be obvious. Cue the moment where Jon is asked how old he is and the absolute AWKWARD silence when it's clear that both Jon and Martin are basically Siffrin's age, give or take a few years.
6.b) Bonnie: "Is 30 years old different in your universe? Are you about to die?" Jon: "From embarrassment, perhaps."
7) General discussion/argument/existential dread regarding the Fears and how they interact with this world. Honestly the gang may never forgive Martin and Jon for doing this to them. Even if they do everything they can to help them. They get more sympathy once they find out about the Eyepocalypse and the absolute hell Jon in particular went through. Doesn't mean they have to like it.
8) Siffrin finding out about Jon's knowing powers and asking him if he can Know the name of the island in the North. Jon tries. Then he starts screaming. His eyes are red. Siffrin doesn't ask again.
9.a) The horror and dread knowing that not only is their mission not done. It can't be ever again. And this time, especially if Jon and Martin's story is true... well, the King wasn't easy, but at least he was a person. You can't exactly fight a distorted universe. Their happily ever destroyed forever.
9.b) I could see a physical confrontation happening... if Jon didn't look so absolutely devastated. If he didn't say "do what you will with me, but please leave Martin alone" and Martin yelling at him for being a self-sacrifical idiot. It just sucks so much all around. But it would have been easier if Jon and Martin were bad people. But they're not. Just... broken people doing their best in a broken world. And to do their best to save their own world, the family has to work with them.
9.c) Jon and Siffrin are also idiots with martyr complexes that refuse to talk about their feelings solidarity. Shame that Jon can't help but want to eat Siffrin's trauma cause they probably have a lot to talk about.
10) Funnier note, the slow realization that Jon and Martin in an rpg world. Martin figures it out first and Jon is just. Flabbergasted. Especially when they find out the magic system is rock paper scissors.
11) "rock paper scissors transcends the multi-verse. Neat!" (Later Martin asks Jon if gun is secretly a fourth hand symbol. He does not know and will not Know. He refuses).
12) I think at one point they're gonna have to deal with the fact that statements don't exist in this world. Either Jon gets too close to taking Siffrin's statement or he's going to tell Martin the facts: there is very little way Jon can survive without being a predator. He is an avatar that needs something to fuel his existence. He doesn't want to hurt anyone else ever again. Unless Siffrin wants to write their statement down or someone else does... even then there's no guarantee it's going to be enough.
13) Perhaps wish-craft can save Jon. Maybe. Maybe not. But. The party tells them about wish-craft anyway. It's the one hope they have to fight against this new horror. Maybe it can help Jon too to get out. (Everyone deserves that chance).
I have no fic with this, my fixations are simply crossing over briefly. Hope you enjoyed the ramblings.
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turrondeluxe · 1 year
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lolathepeacocklord · 7 months
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the OFFICIAL doodle page where I make my incredible breakthrough of how to draw and design humanformer swoop trasformer. waowie!!!!!
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sirompp · 3 months
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jughead(2015) panel redraw 😁😁😁
(original panel under the cut)
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voidscreamns · 1 year
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#i dont think i’ve talked my nonverbal!Diluc hc on here yet#but i keep seeing posts abt disability/chronjcally ill/neurodivergent hcs for genshin characters so here’s one from me#idk i feel like after That Night™️ and being on the run from the Fatui/working with a secret organization#diluc not just learns the ‘value’ of keeping secrets and staying quiet but also internalizes his guilt and trauma of saying smth that could#hurt people#it started with him telling Kaeya that he’s not a Ragnvindr anymore and then is exacerbated by his 3-4 Year Fatui Murder Rampage thru Teyvat#and with all ghat trauma and self-deprecation and paranoia he just. stops talking.#he picks up sign language in Fontaine and still writes but at some point he just stops talking and never speaks again#when he comes back to Mondstadt it was hard to adjust to for both him and the people around him#Kaeya initially assumes that Diluc just refuses to talk to him until he later hears gossip abt how no one has ever heard him speak since he#came back. he goes to Adelinde and/or Elzer abt it and they tell him that they neve even hear Diluc so much as hum or grunt#afterwards everyone changes up real fast— Kaeya and Venti drinking at the bar and seemingly just talking at Diluc but they’re always#observing his reactions and body language even when they’re drunk#Jean tries her best to be patient but she has a hard time reading him bc he’s changed so much in the time he’s been gone#Adelinde & Elzer and the winery staff are the most communicative he’s with— Diluc is far more likely to write with them to communicate#at some point Diluc has a business meeting with some rich dude from Fontaine or smth#Kaeya walks in bc he has an actual important mission thinf to discuss and he sees Diluc and this Fontaine dude and the dude’s wife#moving their hands so fast and with all kinds of gestured and stuff#and it’s the first time Kaeya sees Diluc look so EXPRESSIVE— he’s frowning and raising his eyebrows and mouthing words and all this#and Kaeya just goes ‘what’#turns out the Fontainian dude is deaf and both him and his hearing wife know sign; she helps interpret this to kaeya for the dude and Diluc#and Kaeya is like ‘oh okay’ and goes to the kitchen like ‘i’ll just wait here till yall are finished’#and he sees Adelinde and Elzer there with stoic faces and they just. stand there in quiet for so long.#Kaeya finally says ‘…..so. sign language huh’ and Adelinde and Elzer have the most pained looks on their faces#later that week Diluc finds like everyone around suddenly doing basic signs with him#he later learns that the winery has ordered a shitton of signing books from Fontaine and are trying to learn#+ Kaeya and Jean too with help from Lisa bc like dont you know learning several languages is a requirement for graduation from the Akademiya#soon the use of sign starts spreading in Mondstadt— there might be some small communities where they have their own native sign but it’s not#as standardized nor widely known as it is in Fontaine#this is getting really long so I’ll stop here but yeah. nonverbal Diluc who signs fjskdjs
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carrottyshark · 9 months
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Happy Birthday Haruka!
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I made a mini comic below too featuring my persona of the sort (SHAMELESS ADVERTISING) because it's my birthday 2 days after!
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I don't know anything when it comes to speech bubbles and fonts
Actually, anything about doing comics in general
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no-brand-gays · 8 months
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anime resale stores here always have absolute mountains of love live figures from every iteration of the franchise with every character and costume you could imagine...except i've never been a figure girlie so i always just look over the shelf in awe because i can't really see myself buying anything. except, that is, for the early love live sunshine aqours figures with no legs. that, i would buy
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#were these the first aqours figures ever?? they can't be right?#either way i remember just how early into lls this was#it's really burned into my memory i have no idea what they were made for though#i just always remember them. and their lack of legs#those shops always have the nice boxed up figures and then the ones that were brought to them without a box#left to sit forever in plastic bags on hooks on the store walls (until someone buys them)#some of those come in multiple pieces? like maybe stands or removable parts...?#but i always think it's gonna be one of these and i'm always so disappointed#cmon rashinban sell me one of the ugliest and most baffling love live figures of all time#personal#honestly it's not just figures i'm just really not much of a merch girlie#living in japan is slowly curing me of that though just because of how normalized it is for everyone to have character merch#i bought a really cute kanan keychain a while ago but then it fell off of my bag when i was out :( i still have no idea where i lost it#the normalization of it really helps though honestly#if you'd told me 2 years ago that i'd be buying little nitotan plushes of my fav characters to hold up to scenery while traveling and#take pictures of i definitely wouldn't have believed it#but that's just like a thing that anime girlies do here. i think it's really cute actually#i still haven't gotten around to actually bringing any of those plushes on trips because i forgot 3 times in a row#and then the next trip i took after that was with my family#nooooot a chance. oh my god there's no way i could've explained that and had them been like oh okay
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