deaconsleatherpants
glad to hear that i'm cool
Vi ∙ 25 ∙ She/Her ∙ Appreciation blog for Deacon from WWDITS (film) in addition to Jonny Brugh's various other characters. 18+; minors please DNI
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#cunt of the year 😌
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apparently I never reposted these so. ✨voila✨
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apparently today was World Poetry Day so naturally all I can think about is Jarred and the way he uses his poems to work out his feelings 🥺
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absolutely feral over this new picture of Jarred 👀
#Jarred#ugh he just looks so soft and like he's almost smiling 🥺❤️ instead of being concerned or confused like most of the other promo pics. 😭#he's just so cute... 🥺 I miss him 🥲
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unfortunately I can no longer take Deacon seriously in the devil cape, ever since I thought of this absolutely cursed comparison
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finding new Monty pics in 2024 is so unexpected but also such a treat 👀
#he's so cute....... 🥺😭#technically it’s a behind the scenes shot but I still think it counts. 🥴#800 words
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Deacon + being a little shit 🥴 (1/?)
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who is he 😵💫
#I hope we get some new info about this movie soon because I need to know more about him now!!! 👀👀#I'm honestly more excited for this than The Paragon at this point after all the bullshit. 🤨🥴 but I digress#ugh he looks so good in white 👀 Q???? 🥴#the glasses also remind me a bit of Jarred tbh 😭#jonny brugh
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witchy witchy witchyman ✨🔮
(like or reblog if you use/save, please don't repost or claim as your own!)
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please
#shelton#I've been thinking about this phrase for so long I couldn't help but make it into a meme 😭#why is he like this. 🥴 I love him
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fashion icon 😎
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#just Deacon thingz! 🦇 (2/?)
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hi! ive seen your older posts about deacons live show and i loved hearing about it since (i think at least) its not possible to watch it anywhere online. wondering if theres anything else you remember from it that you could share? cheers :)
Hi there! Yeah, unfortunately the live show is no longer available 😔 but one of the biggest things that stuck with me from the show is how he talks about his sister; at the beginning it's mainly typical lighthearted sibling things, but then he gets into how she died in his arms, and it becomes pretty clear that it affected him a lot more than he's trying to let on (even after all this time) 🥲
there's also a line somewhere about how everyone he loves dies and if I'm completely honest, I think that really shaped a lot of the way I tend to characterize him in my fics 😭🥲
a few other little things I remember him doing include:
Singing (briefly)
Miming out the dye-ing, and subsequent theft of, a goat
Getting his age/year of birth wrong again
Recounting the time he devoured an entire wedding
Trying to conjure spirits
Actually being really sweet/naive when it comes to love 🥺 (probably another thing I've picked up in my characterization of him 🥴)
Ending up in NZ solely because he had a boat ticket “to nowhere”
Making boats sound remarkably like cows
Reading poetry
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8. The perks of actually doing dishes 😏
wip name game | @cant-eat-chips
8. The Perks of Actually Doing the Dishes
so this is a Deacon fic, to the surprise of... absolutely nobody 🥴 it's just a little idea I've actually had on the back burner for honestly years now, at this point - but it's exactly as it sounds on the tin, where you're doing the dishes but Deacon is more interested in other things 😳 and you try to motivate him to help out so you'll be done faster. 😏
I'm not sure when I'll get back to this one since I've had so many other ideas since I first came up with it, but I still think it's a fun little thought!
Here's a little (non-explicit) snippet:
You looked down at the arms that had just wrapped around your waist, catching a glimpse of familiar black fabric and cuffs lined with beige fur.
"Hello," Deacon whispered smoothly behind your ear, and you felt a smile curve around your lips even as you looked resolutely down at the soapy dishwater.
"Hi," you said back as you picked up another glass goblet, and quickly made a face at the congealed blood that refused to give up its grip at the bottom.
His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you into his embrace just enough to press his chest firmly against your back. You could feel him lean down to press his face into the crook of your neck, his lips tracing so lightly over your skin that the sensation made you shudder. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head ever so slightly, feeling your cheeks warm at the mildly prickly feeling of his ever-present stubble pressing against your sensitive skin.
Considering what he was, it was unsurprising that Deacon had a bit of a fascination with your neck. But it was still a little thrilling every time he pressed his face into it, knowing that he could feel every beat of your heart thrumming against his lips.
You sighed softly, resisting the urge to lean back into him and his soft touches. As he kissed at your neck his hands were beginning to wander to places that might not be entirely appropriate if someone were to walk into the room, and although you certainly didn't mind the sensual touches, they were also a very compelling distraction from the heap of dishes in the sink in front of you. The heap of dishes that probably hadn't been done in months, and that was the best-case scenario.
Playfully, you flicked sudsy water behind you, unable to hold back a laugh when you heard Deacon yelp and felt the hands make a hasty retreat. When you looked over your shoulder you could see him brushing a hand through his hair to get the suds out, succeeding only in messing it up further. He glared at you, but cracked into a little chuckle and drew you close again. You smiled.
"You know, I'd be done sooner if you helped."
You grabbed the extra pair of long pink rubber gloves you'd recently rescued from where he had conveniently left them dangling over the rubbish bin, and you pushed them firmly into his chest. Deacon made a jokingly offended noise, and even without looking you could tell he was rolling his eyes.
But he grabbed the gloves and rolled up his sleeves, and though he was grumbling all the way, you knew he didn't really mind as much as he liked to pretend.
#also I am so SO sorry this is so long after you sent in the ask 😭#I've been writing my master's thesis and didn't have the energy to do any writing for fun 🫠🥲 but here it is now!! 🥺
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2? 👀 (also I just have to say 9 made me laugh 🥴)
wip name game | @brughy
2. On the Ashes of this House, Something Burns
Ooh this is the Herrick ghost fic! 👀 I know I've mentioned a little bit about this before, but the general premise is that you move into a fancy old house and soon begin to notice strange noises, and the piano playing by itself, and objects moving around the house in a way that sometimes seems even helpful 🥺 like things you've misplaced suddenly reappearing on your desk! Eventually you of course find out the ghost is Herrick, and he's been sticking around all this time because of his residual jealousy/anger towards his brother, who may or may not have had something to do with his death, and he never really felt like he was done living. I haven't quite worked the rest of it out but I think it should actually end up being pretty sweet despite everything! 🥺
Here's just a small snippet:
And then, very clearly behind your left shoulder, you heard a voice.
“If you’d like to speak with me, all you have to do is ask.”
You whirled around, wielding the ouija board as if you honestly thought it could do anything substantial to help you fend off a potential home invader - but the man, assuming the entity could even be called such an earthly thing, was certainly not what you expected.
He was almost translucent, for one; his feet seemed to be connecting with the floor, but he had a shimmer to him that seemed unearthly. The fact you could see the hazy outlines of your furniture through his body didn’t help that impression. And the clothes he was wearing would have made you think a bizarre historical re-enactment was somehow going on in your home, if it weren’t for the fact that you were pretty sure his clothes were just as immaterial as his body.
His expression was an easy-going one, so that was something, at the very least. And the blond waves framing his thin face gave him an almost innocent look, his green eyes soft and inquisitive. You would have thought him handsome, if the whole situation hadn’t been quite so strange.
“Erm… I say?” the man - the ghost - the stranger said, his wide eyes searching your face almost worriedly. You still couldn’t believe this was real, despite all the oddities you’d noticed since moving here - but the proof was here, quite literally staring you right in the face, so you gulped and nodded.
“Hello?” you tried, not entirely sure what the proper protocol was when it came to greeting (what you presumed to be) a friendly ghost. But this seemed to be the right thing, because he brightened, sticking his hand out towards you in the very picture of formality.
#thanks for the ask! ❤️ I also just realized the title kind of makes this sound like what we've been talking about lately re: Monty lol 😭#and I'm glad you appreciated number 9 lmao 🥴
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wip name game
so I did one of these little dash games quite a while ago and it definitely helped motivate me to actually write so I thought it'd be worth trying again 👀
Rules: I’ll post the names of all the files in my WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!
The Sharpest Lives (Are the Deadliest to Lead)
On the Ashes of this House, Something Burns
With Me Tonight
htmgfad fic
Here Comes the Sun
I Hand You My Mortal Heart, But Will it be Forever?
soft hearts; electric souls
The Perks of Actually Doing the Dishes
🥛🧍🏻♂️
love game (???)
blood & black lace (change title)
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literally can't shake the thought of Monty taking you out on romantic little trips around NZ in his Kombi van 😭❤️
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