#but it just rolls right on by him cos hes so fucking self absorbed that he has to be right and im just upset for no reason
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hate fathers day i am gonna lose it
#mom is sick so my dad is like fuming over it bc it's His Weekend#+ sister is being as Annoying 13 Year Old as usual n he keeps blowing up at her#anyway. if he screams at me again i'm going to stab him i think. i cannot deal w this.#oooh why do you hide in your room n never talk to me. maybe because if i say smth you don't like you scream and try to hit me#or call me degrading misogynistic insults#and i also do not like you as a human being who is not my father.#i get that days like this r meant to honor parents but it defeats the point for your parent who is 24/7 demanding undeserved honor#and respect#to now have a day where he can further justify the idea that he's entitled to respect regardless of how horrible he acts and is like#i just. god. i wish i could make him feel even an ounce of the hurt and frustration he has caused me my entire life#but it just rolls right on by him cos hes so fucking self absorbed that he has to be right and im just upset for no reason#or. idk. i mean idk how any parent can look at a crying child and not realize they fucked up in some way#esp when that child is 17 and you have therefore obviously done smth to warrant that reaction#i just. i wanna kill him. idk. or myself if only to make him upset. probably the first but whats the point cos id end up in jail anyway#i can't do anything but move on but he will literally never pay for any of this he'll probably live a much happier life than me#and just. leave me to bear all of his stress and rage. like he has always done. whatever.#i just think fathers day is like mildly cool if u have a good dad and one of the most horrific days of the year if you don't.#wish it wasn't a thing. u can honor your father any day of the year but this special opportunity for him to further justify all his abuse#only comes once!!#haha. parents. gotta have em! i guess.
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Sloth
Dieter Bravo x Female Reader
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Word Count: 7k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) drug use, dirty talk, praise kink, tiny daddy kink, oral (m receiving), handjob, light nipple play, rimming, mentions of bisexuality, unprotected vaginal sex, cumplay, established relationship, fluffies
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A/N: co-written with @phnyx beta-read by her and @fishingforpike can’t stop won’t stop lmao
For some reason I find myself feeling incredibly iffy on this one, and I never feel this way. It could be because there’s a new element in here that I’ve never written before, or the fact that this one is a little shorter than “Pride and Envy” and “Gluttony”. Either way, I hope you enjoy my lovelies <3 don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts
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It isn’t unusual for him to be this stubborn, nor is it for him to be so self-absorbed. But in a certain sense, you were attracted to it; and in that same sense, you hated yourself for it. How can a human live in a state of perfect balance while being in such disarray?
When you came back, you walked directly into a cloud of smoke; not exactly a rare occurrence, nor an unpleasant one. Dieter had basically hot-boxed the room, and you could care less. It’s not like it’s your house. The two of you were staying out of state for a movie he was shooting, this luxury hotel being your home until he was done with his work here. And since your job was remote, setting up shop with your laptop at cafes became your regular routine.
He’d glanced up briefly when you walked in, giving you a barely-there nod before his brown eyes returned to the magazine in his hands, likely browsing some gossipy cover. He was tired, you didn’t have to know him to know that. While lounging on the couch, he usually wore his signature pajamas, the exact outfit he slipped into every time he came back from set. Those loose, striped pj pants, that long, pukish-green robe, and a purple short-sleeved shirt. But he must not have done his laundry last night, because today, he’s wearing something different, and wearing much less.
“You were never good at these.” You tease him, sliding your tongue along the edge of the paper.
“Yeah…” He sighs, leaning further back. “Don’t know why, though.”
Dieter had always been good at rolling joints, he just liked to watch you do it. Or rather, he liked to watch your little fingers work, your tongue sliding along the paper shortly afterwards. You have a knack for it, he’ll give you that.
After changing into some comfier clothes, you sat on the ground between the coffee table and couch, leaning against the cushions. Dieter was lying sideways, wearing that fluffy, dark brown coat that makes him look like a giant teddy bear, and he wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. The edges of it hang off his sides, draping onto the couch. The only other thing he’s wearing besides his jewelry is an incredibly old pair of dark gray boxers, short enough for you to see his teeny elephant tattoo. Reaching out, you gently poke it, tracing it with your fingernail. And it makes him giggle.
“Quit it.” He says playfully, smiling. He’s so ticklish.
But you still sigh, aggravated with him. You’d been asking him for attention, any kind of sexual or romantic touch, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood today. Now, don’t get him wrong, Dieter was just as sex crazed as he always was; he could never get enough. If he had the energy, he’d fuck you on the couch right now. It’s the fact that he’s so incredibly tired from his day, so exhausted that he’s unwilling to even try. Dieter had so many talents and knowing how to please you was definitely one of them. But on his lazier days, he just didn’t feel like using them.
“Dieter, please.” You beg, whining beside him as you hand him the joint.
Happily, he takes it, immediately lifting it to his lips with the lighter already lit in his other hand. His lips connect once on the bud resting on his lower lip, inhaling deeply.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” It comes out as a small whimper, even though you don’t mean it to. But it makes him look over at you, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.
The joint held between Dieter’s lips continues smoking from the end, now setting down the lighter he’d just used. With a heavy sigh and a small grunt, he changes his positioning, now sitting up to address you.
“Of course I am.” He reassures you in that gravely baritone; oh, he really is so tired today, isn’t he?
Giving him your best innocent eyes, you then ask, “Then why don’t you want me?”
It’s the funniest thing, you being aroused by him right now. You came home to a completely baked, slightly buzzed, entirely soft Dieter. The man looked like he hadn’t showered since he’d been home nor washed his clothes in days. His hair is a mess, his outfit is ridiculous, and his surroundings couldn’t be messier. But to you, this was Dieter. Chaotic, lazy, disheveled Dieter. He’s your baby boy, your puppy dog, your big teddy bear. And even though he didn’t always take care of himself, he always made sure to take care of you.
“Oh kitten,” Dieter lifts a hand to run it over his face, releasing another heavy groan of a sigh. “I’m too tired. Don’t you know aallll I do in a day?”
He looks down to see you pouting, and you’re not faking it, either. “Sweetie,” He continues softly, “I had four fittings today, I’m exhausted! A star like me needs his time to relax, not do anything.” He waves a flimsy hand in the air, taking another puff of weed.
“You never do anything,” You mumble, glancing down while twiddling your fingers. “Not when you’re home. Not with me.”
“You know that isn’t true.” He furrows his brows at you, exhaling the smoke.
“Not lately.” You reply in that same mumbly tone.
“I fucked you last night, sweetheart.” Leaning down, he gently taps your chin with his thumb. “Remember when I made you drool?”
You do remember, you remember it all too well. Dieter had you from behind, pinned down beneath his weight with a fist in your hair. Your knuckles still ache from how hard you were clutching your shared bedspread, your throat still a little hoarse from how many times he’d slid down the length of it. It also didn’t help that you were moaning for two-plus hours.
“Baby,” Comes your sudden gasp of a whine. “I want it, I want it again.”
Sure, Dieter was sex-crazed. But you could be, too.
“Dammit kitten,” He chastises gently, “You can be such a needy little thing.”
Usually when he says you’re needy, it means he’s going to take advantage of it. But not this time.
Laying back to breathe in the smoke once again, he sighs. “Can’t be bothered; daddy’s tired.”
“Dee,” Comes your second whine of the night, that small word a reference to more than just his given name.
Your head is leaning against the couch cushion, resting just beside his outer knee. Reaching between his legs, you slide your hand along his inner thigh, smoothing your palm over the center of his boxers. Looking over his form, you eye his jewelry, his tattoos, the sight of them making your throat feel dry, a tingle shooting through your thighs. And he hums out a gravely sigh.
“You want it that bad, huh?” Dieter then asks, a lazy eyebrow raised. Your eyes meet his, nodding just a little for him.
The space beneath your palm rises just the slightest bit, hardening from your touch. While keeping his gaze, you smile. He’s so easy to excite.
“Well,” He sighs, shrugging while giving you a teasing grin. “If you want it so bad, you’ll have to do it yourself, kitten.”
In all honesty, Dieter isn’t sure what you’ll do with this proposal. Will you huff and walk away? Touch yourself in the bedroom until you’re satisfied? Or will you stay frustrated with him, waiting until late in the night or early tomorrow when he’ll likely want to fuck? Lucky for him though, he’s pleasantly surprised.
“You want me to do the work today, baby?” You then ask, giving his semi a little squeeze. “Hm?”
“Oh…” Mouth dropping open, he nods. For a second there he really thought he wasn’t getting any tonight. “Hell yeah I do.” With a smile on his face, he wiggles his hips on the cushions, eagerly awaiting your next move.
“Huh,” You tut, clicking your tongue while staring up at him. “You sure seem to have some energy now.”
“Well,” He shrugs, rolling his eyes with a grin. And then he shifts again, situating his legs on either side of you. You laugh.
“You don’t even know what I’m about to do!”
“I know what I want you to do.”
“Selfish.” You roll your eyes, only partly joking. But he’s right, you were heading in this direction.
“Yeah, but you like it.” He shrugs again, leaning even further back.
God dammit, how could one man be so lazy yet so cocky? Although, when Dieter wasn’t feeling lazy, he had the ability to make you absolutely dumb, just like he did last night. He fucked you until you couldn’t take it anymore, until you were a babbling, compliant mess beneath him. So, maybe you can return the favor today.
Reaching up, Dieter takes a hold of his joint between two thick fingers, watching you from above. His lips connect briefly, sucking in before blowing out a small cloud of smoke. He does it while settling further back against the couch, spreading his legs a little wider for you. Slowly, your hands trailing up his calves, his thighs, fingertips squeezing the meat of them gently. When your tongue pokes out, wetting your lower lip, Dieter’s head rolls to the side, a sluggish smile crawling across his face.
“Yeah…” Comes his heavy sigh, jaw dropping just slightly while he watches you move.
By now, he’s fully hardened beneath your touch. The thought of sex alone was enough to get him riled up. While slipping your fingers over the edge of his boxers, tugging them down ever so slightly, he leans over to put out the bud in the nearest ashtray to his side. While reaching for another joint, one he’d rolled quite loosely, he lifts his hips for you, allowing you to slide his boxers all the way down to his feet. And as you follow them down, you give him kisses, placing your lips on the softness of his thighs, that delicate little elephant tattoo, trailing down to his calves, and sighing while you do.
“Oh, baby…” It comes out as a quiet whine, looking up to watch his chest rise as he inhales deeply.
Seeing Dieter naked, or in this case nearly naked, was always so satisfying to you. It was like a breath of fresh air, seeing the man that you love like this, completely bare for you. And honestly, Dieter had reason to be cocky. He was uncut, and while that may not be to everyone’s taste, it genuinely made you drool. The length of him was average, but his girth certainly was not. And you loved how thick he was, every inch of him filling you entirely and dragging pleasurably against your walls.
“I love when you do this, baby.” He mutters, releasing a short grunt when you grip him gently.
“Yeah?” Glancing up to meet his eyes, you lay out your tongue on the underside of him.
Those sweet, brown eyes go soft upon seeing your beautiful face, your pretty mouth starting to go down on him. You slide your tongue up his shaft, watching him sigh while you look into his eyes. It’s done loosely, dragging his foreskin upward as you do it. But then you pull it back, looking down at his reddened head to flick your tongue across his slit.
“Fuck me,” He moans, joint hanging on his bottom lip.
The curve of Dieter’s belly rises and falls, his hazy mind already swimming with bliss. He watches you lean up onto your knees, angling your head downward and allowing a trail of spit to fall onto his tip. With a smile on your face you pull his foreskin back, watching your saliva roll down his shaft. It’s not long after that that you take him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around his crimson head.
“Oh,” He chokes, feeling your tongue slide over his delicate skin.
Whenever you went down on Dieter, you made sure to go slow. To say the least, the man could cum quick. And you weren’t sure if he’d be up for round two tonight, so you make sure to take your time.
Amidst his hazy state, Dieter’s head lolls to the side, eyes falling on the mirror not too far from him. The hotel you’re staying in is decorated lavishly, almost gaudy in appearance. And the six-foot mirror facing him is no different. While gazing into it, he smirks, watching as you go down on him. Jesus Christ, he loves this. He can see your pretty frame resting on your knees for him, nestled between his spread legs. And while watching your reflection, he pets at your hair, brushing some of it aside. You really were willing to do anything for him; and he doesn’t even need to work for it.
Closing your eyes as you begin to work, you keep your fingers circled around his base, sliding him further and further into your mouth. Before allowing him into your throat you move up, tonguing his tip before swallowing him again. And while he’d sat up entirely straight at first, he now allows himself to relax, resting back against the couch and letting his head fall back. His dominant hand allows him to smoke, the other one landing on the top of your head. And although he’s too tired to put any real effort into this moment, when you reach his base, he still holds your head down so you can choke on him.
This is when you gag, your movements graceful until now. Drool begins to drip from your mouth, wetting the longer hairs scattering his pelvis. He never kept himself trimmed, and for some reason, you kind of like it.
“That’s it, kitten.” He grumbles, lifting his head to look down at you. “Such a messy girl for me.”
Dieter’s mouth drops open just a little bit, the joint hanging on his lips when you gag again. But you stay down for him, you always do. And when he finally allows you to move you shoot backward, gasping for air. All he does is smile, taking in another puff of smoke. He inhales sharply, almost a hiss, before blowing the small cloud out of the side of his mouth.
“You’re always so good at it.” Then he gives you a single nod. “Do it again, will you, kitten?”
More than eager to comply, you go down again, taking him in one swallow and feeling the couch rock as his head thumps back against the top of it. He groans heavily, leaving the joint on his lips and bringing his other hand down to your head. Those talented fingers intertwine with your hair, scratching your scalp gently. And when you moan around him he pulses against your tongue, his hips shuttering ever so slightly.
In the back of your mind, you’re thinking about what you can do for him, what will feel best, what he’ll enjoy most. Oftentimes, you thought about his other relationships, the ones before you. You considered what they brought to him, sexually and otherwise. It was like a challenge to you, and so far, you could do everything they did and more. And according to Dieter, you did it better than them, too. But there’s one thing you haven’t done that is currently popping into your mind…
From the angle you’re at, you can see him perfectly, his entire body. One thing Dieter certainly did not have was shame. Since the first night you slept together, he was all in. He spread his legs wide when you first went down on him, and this time is no different. Only now, you can see his sex entirely, his full length laying on his belly when you released him, his scrotum resting beneath the thickness of him… and that forbidden little space you’ve yet to befriend. Maybe he’d enjoy that.
“Uh-huh,” He nods, the sound coming from his open mouth. He’s watching you move up and down, slowly twisting your hand beneath your mouth.
Your tongue wiggles on the underside of him as you continue to bob up and down, moaning when you can and breathing through your nose. But the size of him sometimes made even that difficult. Dieter likes to see you struggle to take him though, his chest sighing out heavy breaths while you drool around him, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.
“No, no,” He protests, urging you back down.
“Sh…” You’ve lifted yourself from him, giving another ounce of spit before wrapping your entire fist around him.
With excitement tingling in your belly, you lower yourself just a bit. You wonder how this will go. Will he like it? Will you? He’s talked about past partners doing it before, but never once did it cross over to you. And on the opposite end of this, Dieter’s done it to you, and you want to make him feel just as good.
So you don’t give him too big of a surprise, you start out gentle, slowly making your way down. Your lips fall to his balls, licking and mouthing at them while he moans. And while you’re doing this, you jerk him off with firm, languid tugs. Inch by little inch, you creep down, your tongue sliding lower and lower while you continue to lick him. And above you, Dieter barely notices. All he’s registering is the euphoria flowing effortlessly through his brain.
“Hm…” The hum you exude shivers directly through his center, the muscles in his thighs tensing from it. You notice this, lifting your free hand to massage the sweet meat of his upper legs, feeling him relax even further under your touch.
Landing on the relatively smooth space between his scrotum and cheeks, you give him time to adjust, that is, if he’s even noticing. Moving your hand up to his tip, you give it a gentle squeeze, earning an unruly, erotic cry from him. He loves to be teased. And it’s in this exact moment that you make your first swipe, your tongue sliding along the tighter muscles you’ve yet to explore.
“Uh-ugh,” Comes his punched out gasp, eyes shooting open to look down at you.
At first, his reaction makes you nervous, an intense heat washing your entire body with anxiety. But you don’t stop, you just keep yourself there, meeting his gaze. He’s panting now, but he doesn’t say anything. So, experimentally, you do it again.
“Oh my god.” He babbles loosely from his mouth, fingers taking hold of the blunt he’d been smoking. He lets his forearm land on the armrest of the couch, letting the bud simmer between his fore and middle fingers.
Again, another swipe, deeper this time. Your hand is still working him, and this is when you get a definitive answer on whether or not he’s enjoying this surprise. His head falls back again, a guttural groan released from his throat. Almost of their own volition, his legs spread even wider, hips lifting up a little higher.
Wow, he really does want this.
“Y-Yeah…” Dieter stutters out a sigh, mouth falling agape while his head continues to lay back.
“Mm,” Comes your enticed moan, excited now that you’ve been given full permission to do this.
When Dieter moved his legs wider for you, it allowed you to see more of him, too. His cheeks separated that much more, allowing you to wiggle in even closer to the space between his legs. This time, you go in slowly, sliding your tongue up the entirety of his hole. You can feel his tight muscles twitch beneath you, your free hand now dropping to his right cheek. Grabbing him, you open him even wider, feeling his cock throb in your hand.
“W-What,” Dieter lifts his head, confused when you pull away. “What’re you doing?”
Reaching behind your back, you find the coffee table, pulling it closer to the couch. And then you look up at him, sliding both hands over his thighs.
“Put your feet on the coffee table, baby.” All he can do is stare dumbly at you. “Let me lick you.”
“Fuck me…”
As if he’s too high to even move, you help him, leaning down to lift one foot onto the small table while he moves the other. Now, he’s got his thighs on either side of your head, both of his hands falling to the couch cushions as he searches for something to grab. He doesn’t let go of his joint, though, in fact, when you return to your work, he takes another breath.
Looking back into the large mirror behind you, he grins breathlessly, watching you perform this new act for him. It’s so fucking sexy, watching you do this to him. The sight of it makes his muscles clench, your groan shivering through his hips.
“Baby… yeah…” He moans deeply from above, pinching his eyes shut when you begin to lick him deep. “Just like that, oh yeah… that’s so good…”
He’s twitching in your hand and pulsing against your tongue, the sensations almost too much for him to handle. And still he sits back, watching you do everything for him. The hand you’re not using to jerk him off wraps around his thigh, keeping him close, and he moans when you drag your nails across his sensitive skin. Every now and then your nose nudges his balls and it makes his head fucking spin. He can’t believe you’re doing this, he can’t believe you’re doing this for him.
“B-Baby,” You continue to lick him, even through his passionate whines. His stomach and legs flex around you, his toes curling, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “That, that feels so good, you don’t even know…”
Dieter’s praise made you the happiest woman in the world. He was so much more experienced than you, so to know that even through the multitude of men and women he’s slept with, that he wants you… it was a feeling you couldn't even fathom until he gave it to you.
His hips push up, shoving his fluttering hole closer to you, wanting you to have the best access to him, all of him. And this is so beyond sexy to you, to hear him fall into a whiny, moaning mess from you licking his little hole while jerking him off. You never expected it to be so thrilling for you, too, the entirety of your being fizzling with excitement and adrenaline.
While you’re tonguing his hole, prodding gently into the taut little ring, he looks up. He’s breathless when he speaks, his chest fucking heaving. “You look so good like this…” His voice is hoarse, and he clears it, swallowing briefly. “So pretty like this, kitten.”
Your open-mouthed moan makes him whine, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip when he feels your own circle his asshole. And you grin at this, giving a small giggle from beneath him.
“Still feeling too lazy for this, Dee?” You’re mumbling over his slicked-up skin, eyes flickering up to meet his.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” He immediately grits out, shaking his head. “Keep going, please keep going.”
Closing your eyes once again, you let yourself dive in, moving your tongue incessantly against him. It’s grown sloppy, your motions erratic and almost frenzied. And he’s enjoying every fucking minute of it. When you let go of him, intending to bring your hand down to fondle his balls, he reaches out for you.
“No,” He begs, bringing your hand back up to him. “Keep your hand there.”
But then he doesn’t leave. He wraps his own hand around yours, the both of you jerking him off while he now thrusts up into your hold. It makes you gasp, seeing him this turned on by what you’re doing to him. Helplessly, he ruts up into your hand, keeping his grip on yours tight so the pressure feels just right for him.
“Yes, yes!” He nearly wails, and before you can say anything, before you can pull away and make him wait, he cums.
It shoots all over his belly, some spouting all the way up to his chest. It comes out in gooey spurts, hot and sticky as it litters his skin. You moan while watching him, his head falling back while his eyebrows furrow, eyes pinching shut while his mouth tries desperately to hold onto the joint he’d been smoking. But he wants to open his mouth fully, wants to moan out wantonly. And while you’re enjoying the show of Dieter making a mess of himself, you continue tonguing him, rolling the wet muscle along the rim of his hole over and over again. It’s shocking, how much he cums, the amount of it sliding down his sides just a bit. That’s a shame, you wanted it in your mouth.
“Oh my god,” He huffs out, chest heaving with desperate attempts to try and catch his breath. “Holy fuck.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dieter nods breathlessly, shaking his head quickly in response. He closes his eyes, repeating himself before his dry lips meet with a swallow. And you can see him start to relax. He reaches to the side, grabbing the blunt he’d left in the tray as he returns to lay on his back along the couch.
“Dieter,” Your whine makes his eyes snap open, head turning to the side. “I want more.” Your chest is heaving, you can’t help but beg. You do want more, you want more of those whines, more of those grunts, more his beautifully erotic expressions.
“Ride me,” He blurts out. “Fuck, ride me.”
Immediately, you rise to your feet, shimmying out of the shorts you’d pulled on when you came home. You slide your panties off alongside them, now climbing on top of him. There’s a dirty shirt laying on the ground that you quickly grab, using it to wipe off his tummy.
“You miss me? Huh?”
You toss the shirt to the floor, placing your hands on his chest to lean forward.
“Yes baby, I don’t ever get enough of you. You’re always gone, Dee, I miss you.”
“Then show me,” He swallows again, steadying his breaths. “Show me how much you miss me, kitten. Maybe it’ll make me stay home for you.”
He’s still hard beneath you, feeling the delicate skin of your lips rest on top of his shaft. Again, he keeps the joint between his lips, both hands reaching to squeeze your hips. And when he does, you lift yourself, keeping your eyes on his beautiful face while you position him. Dieter’s eyes are trained elsewhere, though, he’s gawking at the space where the two of you will connect.
“Dee…” It’s an exasperated sigh, huffed out as you sink down. He stretches you wide, painfully so, your walls throbbing around him from the intrusion only when he’s halfway inside.
He feels it, of course he does. “Fuuuck…” he groans, mouth hanging open.
The small wiggle you give your hips when you’re entirely seated on him makes him grin. He releases a short and quiet giggle, one hand rising to trail up your torso.
“Take off your shirt.” He gently orders, eyes fixated on your covered chest. “Let me see your tits.”
You do as he says while forming a smile on your face. “Who’s needy now?”
Dieter laughs, a cocky half-smirk on his face. “You know you love me.”
As soon as it's off, those two large hands move to paw at your chest, cupping you gently before digging his fingers in. He holds them while you start to move, swaying your hips.
“Oh, kitten,” He sighs, releasing your breasts. His dominant hand returns to his lips, taking a puff before removing the blunt. The other falls to his stomach, lazily brushing the pads of his fingertips across one of his nipples. “You really needed it today, huh?”
“Mhm,” Nodding, you whine, too, closing your eyes as you move. “I need you, I need you, baby.”
“I’m here, kitten.” He coos to you, inhaling another deep breath of smoke. “I’m here.”
Looking down, you’re met with the beautiful sight of the incredibly chaotic man you’ve chosen to love. He looks so scruffy right now, his hair a big mess and his cheeks littered with short, unruly strands. He looks so good below you, his curvy body moving slightly every time you rut yourself against him.
You’re going slow, enjoying every moment of it, enjoying the stretch and your gentle sighs. When your head dips back, your lips parting to release a moan, Dieter reaches up to lazily grab your left breast, jiggling it in his hand as he grins.
“Perfect,” He mumbles over the blunt he’s holding between his lips, still teasing his nipples.
He rocks back and forth with every one of your gentle thrusts, and he’s so tired that all he can do is smile; he can’t even thrust. Besides, he likes seeing you take the reins like this. He’s surprised by how much you’re willing to do for him.
“Oh, fuck.” Out of seemingly nowhere, you change your pace, slapping your ass down onto his groin. He grunts out, eyebrows furrowing as you bring him a much quicker dose of bliss.
“Dieter…” You moan, fingernails digging into his chest.
You’re taking what you want from him, the languid pace you once created floating away like dust in the wind. You’ve wanted to fuck this lazy bastard all day, and you’re going to do it your way. And Dieter couldn’t love it any more than he currently does, he feels like a fucking god right now. Just sitting back, watching this beautiful woman grind on top of him while he gets high.
He’s giving you little grunts and moans, his mouth hanging open as he breathes heavily. And he just stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth from your face to your tits to your gorgeous cunt as it takes him. His eyebrows furrow in disbelief, finding himself feeling lucky. You treat him so well. You always come home with a smile on your face, never forgetting to give him a kiss and a hug. Every day, you ask about the set, how filming is going, inquiring about how he feels about the script. If you’re not taking care of ordering the food, you’re preparing it, if you’re not making arrangements for your suite to be cleaned, you’re doing it. And by far the most impressive thing you do, is you manage to love him; even through all his shit, through his attitude and addictions. He should really learn to appreciate you more.
“Baby,” You whimper for him, knowing how much he likes it. Biting down on your lower lip, you wiggle down onto him, feeling him pulse inside.
“Fuck, you look so good like this.” He says with a breath of amazement. “I love when you’re on top of me.”
“Yeah? Even when you’re too tired to have me?”
“I might be tired, but I’m glad you aren’t.” He grins, that lazy, cocky smirk never ceasing to stir arousal within you.
“Hm…” It’s a hum, an enticed one. “You like it, daddy? You like when I do this to you?”
“Oh kitten, you know I do. You’re so perfect, doing this for me…”
Releasing a contented sigh, your head tilts back, and he wishes he could kiss your throat. But there’s no way in hell he can lean up that far right now. Not when he’s high and getting fucked out of his mind.
Dieter’s eyes fall to the area behind you, zoning in on the reflection of your ass bouncing down against him. You’re such a sexy little thing, your entire body moving over his, always doing your best to please him. Your skin looks so smooth, is so smooth, the dips and curves of your physique was something that caught his eye immediately. Honestly, he can’t help but look at himself, too. Every time you lift yourself, he can see his cock slide almost all the way out of you before you’re plummeting down onto him again, his scrotum bouncing slightly from your forceful movements. The thick meat of his thighs jiggle beneath your own, your hips relentless in their search for his high.
Eyes rolling back, they finally close, a low and guttural moan coming from his throat. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
“Again?” You couldn’t be happier to hear him say this. You love it when he cums more than once.
“Again.” Dieter answers you, breath continuing to leave him. His eyes are still closed, his head nodding sluggishly. “Make me cum, please kitten. Please make me cum.”
“Mm… where are you gonna cum, baby? Inside me?”
“No,” You knew he’d answer this way. “Gonna pull out.”
There was a very specific way Dieter went about cumming when you rode him. It’s not that he didn’t love cumming inside you, he definitely did. Oftentimes, he’d lick it out of you. But when you rode him, he liked to pull out and jerk himself off against your ass. It oozes out of him, spilling over his hand. And right after he’d bring it to his lips so he could taste it.
“Oh,” He whines, his neck straining and veins protruding. “Fu-uck.”
Smiling down at him, you reach around, your dominant hand finding his scrotum. You cup him gently, fingers fondling the delicate skin as he nears his high. This is when he ruts up into you, the only time he’d done so tonight. His hips move of their own volition, punching up inside your core before his hands fly to wrap around your back, hauling you down to his chest. You squeal quietly as he does it, hands wrapping around his neck. You duck your face down to his shoulder, fingernails and teeth scraping along his throat. And while you’re busy doing this, he reaches down, pushing you further up on his chest so he can pull out of you. Forcefully, his fingers wrap around his shaft, tugging his cock harshly beneath your ass. Every time his fist moves up his knuckles graze the plumpness of your backside, helping to height his orgasm.
The sticky-whiteness of it washes your skin, wet globs littering your ass and dripping down onto his hand. Since this is the second time he’s cum, there isn’t as much as the first time, but it doesn’t matter, not to either of you. He groans harshly when he feels your pretty lips kissing his tawny skin, your wondrous tongue poking out to lay over his neck. By the way you’re nipping at him, he knows hair and makeup will have to cover the hickeys up in the morning. And you like knowing that.
“Fuck, fuck,” His hand moves frantically, milking himself of every drop he can give.
Graceful fingertips pet over the hair scattering those squeezable cheeks, your nose running along the curve of his jaw. His eyes are pinched shut, lips parted as he revels in this. You lift your face just enough to give his cheek a kiss, smiling and humming against him. With his breaths picking up he removes his hand, lifting it to his face. He looks at the whiteness of himself coating every single knuckle, groaning quietly. Dieter then brings his knuckles closer, his tongue poking out to lick it off of his skin.
“You love doing that, huh baby?” You grin against him, lightly scratching his scruff.
He doesn’t answer you, he just brings his fingers to your lips. Looking to the side, he watches you take them in, tasting not only the remnants of his orgasm but his spit, too. Slack-jawed and staring, he can’t take his eyes off you. When he takes his fingers out of your mouth you reach up to keep him close, sliding your tongue through the mess of him.
“I love you,” Comes his airy yet guttural admission. “I fucking love you so much.”
“I love you too, baby.” You’re happy to hear him say it after missing him all day.
“I’m sorry,” He’s still breathing heavily, trying to calm his breaths. “I don't,” Then he swallows, his clean hand rising to hold the back of your head when you snuggle against him. “I don’t treat you like I should.”
“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows. “You take care of me.”
“More like you take care of me.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.” You admit with a laugh. “But I know you love me, Dee.”
“I really hope you do.” Dieter sighs below you, his body firm, steady. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You’re my person, baby.”
Lifting your head, you stare down at him. “Baby, why are you so worried?”
“I just don’t want to lose you,” Dieter clears his throat, those warm brown eyes looking up sweetly at you. “And I know I will if I act like an ass.”
“Well, don’t be an ass.” Shrugging, you playfully grin. “And you won’t lose me.”
But Dieter doesn’t smile, he isn’t joking.
“I know you get tired baby, and you do deserve to relax. You work hard.” Well, as hard as he can on the set of Cliff Beasts Seven. Honestly, the better description would be he has hard days, long days. Dieter wasn’t necessarily putting his best foot forward to uphold his career. But he didn’t really have to. He did what he wanted, and honestly, people loved him for it.
“You don’t get sick of me?” He’s feeling insecure about this. He knows he can be a lot.
“Sure I do, sometimes I get really aggravated with you.” Honesty was always important between the two of you. “But I don’t ever stop loving you baby, and that’s what matters most to me.”
For a moment, Dieter just looks at you. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”
“Yeah? Is that a promise?”
“A big fucking promise.” He nods, pulling you down to kiss you. And you smile into it, happy to be in the relationship that you’re in. You know you have something so many people want, not only a celebrity but a man who’s willing to love you through anything. And Dieter’s more than aware of how lucky he is to have you. Sexy, funny, incredible you.
When you climb off of him, retrieving your shirt and shorts, you get a rag so he can clean up. You bring him a clean pair of boxers and a hoodie of his that you’d found in your shared room, his brown fuzzy jacket now ruined. But he can get it dry cleaned no problem.
“What do you feel like ordering tonight?” You ask, phone in hand.
“Pizza?”
“We had pizza last night.”
“Yeah,” He widens his eyes, rolling them. “Because it’s good.”
Shaking your head with a cheesy grin on your face, you order your boyfriend what he wants. These were your usual nights, ordering in, cuddling, and turning on a movie. Oftentimes, they were documentaries. Dieter didn’t like movies that much, he sees enough actors on the daily. He knows most of them, too. They’re colleagues to him, not interesting celebrities he looks up to. Tonight, he picks out a documentary about the Amazon, grinning like a little kid when the koalas come on.
“You want one.”
“Sure,” You let him light the blunt for you, leaning on him while tugging a blanket over the two of you.
“You wanna do LSD?” He then asks, glancing down at you. “I got some new ones.”
“You know, for one night I’d like to not trip balls.”
“Yeah okay, fine.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, and it makes you grin. Dieter slouches beside you, leaning on your body and wrapping both arms around you.
“What time do you need to be on set tomorrow?”
He groans, running a hand over his face. “Eight fucking am.”
“Damn,” He responds with a disgruntled I know.
Lucky for the two of you, tomorrow is a Friday, and thank fuck he has the weekend off. Maybe he’ll take you out to dinner, maybe even go to a club or two. Those nights are always fun with him. Honestly though, every night spent with Dieter was a fucking blast. If you stayed in, you’d both blare music till the sun comes up, drinking the night away while you sing happily. Those are the nights you’d usually do LSD. Those are also the nights he tells you about his craziest sex fantasies. But if you went out you got the chance to be spotted by the paparazzi, something you honestly both love. What can you say? You’re attention whores.
“Well, you wanna shower together before bed? I can make you all soapy…” You run a hand down his belly, now full of pizza and pop. “Get you nice and tired so you can sleep like a baby.”
“I’m already exhausted, but you know I like a challenge.”
In his own head, he’s already planning out the weekend he’s going to give you. He’s considering booking a short vacation, take some time off and get a breather from set. Maybe he’ll bring you to Venice for a few days, make you cum in as many Italian cities as he can. He knows you’d like that.
#Dieter Bravo#Baby#My soft teddy bear#I love you so much#Ugh#Dieter Bravo x you#Dieter Bravo x reader#Dieter Bravo x female reader#Dieter Bravo smut#Dieter Bravo fanfiction#Pedro Pascal#The Bubble#Kinktober#Kinktober 2022#Sintober#Sintober 2022
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okay guys I know I killed Naaz but I still want to write about them so after the first time they met, here is another encounter between them-
in continuation of PERHAPS
Naaz’s pov
I pushed open the gleaming glassed window on the wall of my room with a jolt to get basked in an onslaught of light. And as I looked in the mirror with the sunlight adorning my skin in golden specks of glitter, I couldn’t help but succumb to the desire and yearning to dress myself in a flailing kurta, strap jhumkas to my ears and complement them with a nose ring, bring out the brown of my irises with the prominent strokes of kajal and braid my long hair turned bronze in the sun’s rays, leaving a few bold strands to waft with the melodious air. As I was admiring the tender authenticity of its beauty, from the corner of my eye, I recognized an all so ever familiar pair of suspenders amongst the buzzing marketplace beneath. I leaned over the window sill with my hand raised in a waving position, my lips parting to call out his name until hesitation played the spanner in the wheel. I barely know him. What am I doing? He is probably minding some vital business. But that hopeless portion within me craved for more convincing. I gloomily lowered my hand and turned back to my room, halting my steps when I heard my name called out. I spun to see Ram, a beaming smile on his face and his right hand waving ecstatically to me while the other one rolled up a crinkled piece of paper. I let my face break out into a wide grin.
“Mind coming downstairs?” the voice was casual but the tone emitted a strong sense of pleading.
I furrowed my eyebrows and wore a smirk, my face radiating cockiness.
“Please,” he shouted over the animated chatter of the people swarming through the market.
‘Be there,’ I mouthed.
We strolled together alongside the vendors decorating the fringe of the place, rambling about pivotal matters pertaining to the society with a heavy dose of absolute irrelevance in the conversations.
“So what have you been up to these past four days since I last had the privilege to meet you?” he asked.
I put down the daisies I was soaking the sweet scent of before answering his question, “I um slept and ate. That's what I really did basically. And oh went on an invigorating horse riding spree the day before. What about you?”
”Well I co-”
I cut him off, “What's that coiled paper you have been tagging along with yourself from the morning?”
“That, my friend is a sketch of someone I am looking for,” he unfurled the creased paper, “Do you happen to know him?”
”First of all, I am not your friend. Secondly,” I shook my head in refusal, “My daydreaming absorbed self barely knowns anyone except the people I need to finish my chores.”
I picked up some sunflowers from the display.
”Never met such a selfless, altruistic personality in my life,” he mused.
I put the yellow delicacies in my hair, raising my eyebrows for his opinion. He contorted his thumb into a circle and the rest of the fingers stretched upwards. I rid my hair of the flowers and put them down.
”Funny” he said mockingly.
”Your opinions are necessary for me to determine to what extreme I need to change it. Anyways you were saying something..”
I traced my hand over the serene violet of a few buds as he spoke, “I completed the book you recommended to me,”
I almost dropped the unbloomed flowers from my grip as I stared at him with my eyes almost out of their sockets and my lower jaw almost unhinged. I rushed forward embracing him in a hug and realizing a bit too late what the fuck I had just done. But before I could fall into the depths of my awkwardness and mortification, he tightened his arms around me and retuned the hug willingly.
“I loved it. And if that's how I am going to be rewarded, you better spit out every book you have ever read,”
“Not so sly now, young man. Besides, unless you are pretty confident about the theory of 7 births, you can only dream to accomplish what I have,”
“Young woman-” noticing the scowl on my face, he began again, “Naaz, I am up for the challenge.”
“Sure you are,” I murmured absent mindedly as I gathered a handful of violets and orchids together.
“How much for these?” I enquire from the florist, motioning to those yet to be bloomed beauties in my hand.
He took the flowers from me, examining them and said, “50 paise maim saahib”
Ram stretched out his hand, his fingers clutching the coins only to receive a smack on his arm from me.
“Ouch,” he gaped, rubbing his palm on his arm.
“Why thankyou so much, o saint but I believe I'm perfectly capable of paying for my own wants. Wouldn't you agree?”
“Absolutely but consider this as a token of chivalry on my behalf. Can you?”
“What, because you are a man?” I rebuked.
“No, because I am a friend.”
“Fair enough,”
A giddy smile lit up on his face as he paid the required amount.
“What?” I demanded.
“You just agreed that I am your friend.”
I mimicked him childishly before yielding to a genuine laughter.
“Anna!” we revolved around to see a man scurrying over to us.
“Akhtar!” Ram exclaimed.
The man caught up to us and heaved out “I have been looking around all over for you. Where have you been? Lunch is ready and everybody has been waiting for us.”
“Akhtar, meet Naaz,” he turned to me, “Naaz, Akhtar.”
“Lovely to meet you Akhtar,” I said shaking his hand.
“Lovely to meet you too, Naaz. Its a beautiful name.”
“Thankyou,” dimples carved my cheeks.
“Join us for lunch Naaz?” Ram asked me as Akhtar nodded his head kindly.
“I would love to but I have some errands to run at the present. Some other day maybe,”
Ram’s gaze was burning into me.
“Ah no worries. Shall we head on then Ram?” he nudged the man out of his stupor.
“What,” he blinked his eyes.
“Bye ram,” I grinned shaking my head dismissingly.
“Wait!”
I turned around.
“See you around, perhaps?”
“Definitely”
“Definitely” he repeated. “I’ll hold you on to that and remember the challenge!” he shouted to my walking figure, the smile gracing my face hidden from his view.
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tags: @dilli-vali-girlfriend @seherie @redirection04 @maraudersfansassemble @thewinchestergirl1208 @itsfookingloosah @darlingletshurttonight @manwalaage @contemporarykafka @rambheem-is-real @aurora2238 @adrakchutneyofficial @bromance-minus-the-b @miriseven @ms-potato @alien-chicken-baby @how-unreasonably-in-love-i-am
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long overdue
fandom: stranger things
characters: steve harrington
reader: gn
word count: 1.6k+
summary: you and steve have been friends since childhood and neither of you could ignore what you felt for each other. but it took some demogorgons for you to realize that
a/n: AHHHHHHH i’m so sorry if this is late ;^; school is really kicking my ass rn ;^; i hope you enjoy!
notes: some swearing; demogorgons
tagged by: @hyposstuffingwell
It was late at night and the breeze was chilly but that didn’t stop you or Steve from sneaking out. He picked you up a couple of blocks away from your house and the two of you drove away to the quarry, belting out Queen’s songs from inside the car.
Now here you were, sitting on top of the car’s hood as you look over the waters, talking over the most mundane things to the crazy events that took place last year. The moon glinted off the soft ripples of the water, causing silver streaks to float through the surface. The smell of damp grass reached your nose and an orchestra of cicadas serenaded whoever was present.
“I still can’t believe that you actually said that to Carol in fifth grade,” You guffawed, holding your belly as more laughs escape you.
“Hey— you thought the same thing!” Steve argues. “Her hair really looked like a bird’s nest.”
“Yeah but you don’t tell her that..!” You retort with a playful shove to his shoulder.
The brunet rolled his eyes at that, brushing back his gorgeous locks. He sighs and leaned against the car’s window, leaving you to your own musings. He eyes the various stars that twinkled against the dark blanket of the sky. He never really told many people this, not even the Party or he’ll never hear the end of it, but he was one of those people who just stared up into the night sky. He liked to take in the sights and smells around him and just enjoy what he had.
His gaze rolls over to you beside him, seeing you lying comfortably against his car’s window. The warm quilt you had brought along was laid neatly on top of your lap, eyes closed as you basked in the ambiance of the night.
At that moment Steve wondered- why did it take him so long to see this? Why did it have to take him supernatural beings, a group of kids, and a secret Russian infiltration paired with a gigantic demonic creature to work up the courage to realize what he had felt for you?
You two were neighbors, practically growing up together. You two were an unstoppable force as children, just the two of you against the world. But once high school rolled around- things changed. It was like you two became two different people. Maybe it was his fault, considering he was blinded by the popularity that managed to find its way to him, but that shouldn’t have stopped him from talking to you.
The brunet shakes himself out of his trance when he feels your hand casually slip in his, lacing your fingers with his and giving his palm a gentle squeeze. He looks up to see you gaze at him softly, almost as if you were contemplating something. He sits up when you do, hands never leaving yours.
“You brought your guitar right?” You ask and he nods. “I wanna hear you sing.”
Steve flushes a brighter shade of red and looks away bashfully. You whine and latch onto his arm, begging him to serenade you. He chuckles at your pleads, his free hand reaching up to run his hand through his hair in nervousness. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to play for you- he’d do it in a heartbeat. But he was scared that he’d mess up and look stupid in front of you- or worse, sing something that revealed his true feelings for you.
Fuck it. He thinks to himself. “Fine,” He relents and you cheer quietly. “Jeez- no matter what age we are you always manage to rope me into doing what you want.”
“You can say no, y’know.” You chide and playfully punch his shoulder, watching as he fetches his guitar from his car.
“I know. But I need the practice anyway.” He hops back onto the hood, reaching up to the neck of the guitar to tune it.
You watch fondly as he did so, memories of hanging out in his room and watching him play come flooding back to you. The sad, heavy wave of nostalgia washes over you at the memories, but you push that aside. You can recreate them again, right here and now.
Steve releases a nervous exhale and you rest a hand of comfort to his shoulder. You give him an encouraging smile, one that he reciprocates with gratitude, and starts to play. His fingers pluck at the strings gently- just some random notes to get the feel of it. He plays a jumble of notes, pretending to be in one of those rock bands and you laugh at his antics. Eventually, he stops messing around and the notes morph into something familiar- a song you heard on the radio many times.
“We’re talking away, I don't know what I'm to say. I'll say it anyway…” He sings softly.
You perked up when you recognized this iconic song. As he played into the night, you realized that it sounded so different when played this way- more romantic even. And you couldn’t help but feel a warmth bloom in your chest at the sight in front of you. Steve looked so lost in the music as he strummed away, singing along with the melody. He always had a talent for music, you just wish he recognized it.
“Take on me, take me on,” Steve looks up to you, shyly meeting your gaze. “I’ll be gone, in a day or two…”
He strums the rest of the chords, repeating it a couple of times before closing the song and letting the last notes echo into the air. It’s quiet for a while, just the two of you staring at each other as you let the atmosphere settle. Steve poured his heart out into the song and poured a little of what he thinks he feels for you so that you’d know how much you mean to him.
When the tension became unbearable, you spoke up. “I missed you, Steve.” You tell him softly.
“I missed you too, ______,” He replies with a sigh. He reached out to take your hand in his, thumb running over the back of it. “Look… I’m sorry for what happened back in high school… I was a jerk. Like- a jerk-jerk, the kind of jerk you want to just punch ‘cos he’s so self-absorbed and pathetic.”
You scoot over to him, gently taking the guitar and placing it back into the car. When you return, you reach up to cup his face, making the brunet turn to you. At your touch, his skin heats up with shame and he avoids your gaze. He couldn’t bear to look at you— it would just remind him of how neglectful he was as a friend.
His warm brown eyes are glassy with a pang of deep-seated guilt as he stared down at his lap. Your heart clenches at this. You knew that it was kind of his fault- he did turn you away when he became “King of Hawkins High,” but part of it was your fault too. You were so angry at him that you shunned him away whenever he tried approaching you- it was easier for you that way. Because at least, when you acted cold, the heartbreak you felt would be less painful than what it would have initially been.
“I’m not going to lie, you were that kind of a jerk,” You chuckle, thumb brushing the space under his eyes. “But it was my fault too… I gave you the cold shoulder and turned you away. And… I’m sorry for that- I should have listened to you when you tried to explain yourself…”
Steve let out some sort of amused huff. “...I guess we both fucked up big time huh?” His eyes drop down to your lips before flickering back up to your face where he finally met your gentle gaze. He dared to lean forward, pressing his forehead against yours while his trembling hands reached up to cup both your cheeks.
“What if… what if I kissed you right now?” He asks boldly, impulsively.
Your heartbeat speeds up at the question. You had already harbored feelings for your friend back then. Even though circumstances weren’t all that great before, that tiny vulnerable part you had for him never left. And with what happened with the Demogorgons, Billy, the Russians chasing after you (all that shared trauma as Murray Bauman puts it) it had only festered into what you have now.
“Here’s a better question,” You whisper. “What’s stopping you from doing so?”
Steve’s breath hitched when you actually gave him permission to kiss him. He blinks rapidly, almost as if making sure he wasn’t dreaming, before steeling his nerves and leaning forward to press his lips tentatively against yours.
The kiss was shy and hesitant at first. It was only when the both of you pulled away from each other did you two realize that you wanted something more. As your lips slot against his again, you couldn’t help but lean further into him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your lips moved against his. Steve on the other hand wrapped an arm around your waist as the other came to cradle the back of your head, holding you as if you’d disappear any moment.
The kiss wasn’t sloppy or desperate- but it was passionate and full of unsaid emotions that could be better off expressed without the use of words. You pull your head away when the call for air was too great but made no move to shift out of Steve’s hold. You couldn’t help but smile at what had happened, the warmth in your chest growing and spreading throughout your whole body.
“That, that was long overdue.” You hum, eliciting a soft chuckle from Steve.
“Well,” He muses and tucks a stray hair behind your ear, kissing your forehead after. “Better late than never.”
#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagines#fandomsonrequests
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All I gotta say is: bodyguard! Porco who's gotta take care of some rich man's (legal age of course) daughter and pounding into her at night because she's such a brat 😩
Yes. All of the yes. Its a little different but hopefully you'll still like it ❤️ if not feel free to request again. I got resident evil 4 Ashley Graham vibes from her so I named her after the president's daughter lol
Warnings: 18+ smut
"Por----co!"
Galliard flinched at that all too familiar screeching; nails on a chalkboard peircing his ears as Ashley rounded the corner with her cheeks puffed out in annoyance.
"What?" He grumbled in response, his already short break ruined prematurely.
"I wanna go in now."
Porco lowered his sandwich with a sigh. "You can't go in without me. I'm not finis-"
"I said, now!"
Porco drops his small meal right there on the floor with an enraged snarl, not able to deny her request else he get his ass handed to him by her dad.
Ashley was 22 but by god did she act like a spoilt fucking brat. Guess he couldn't blame her really, when you're used to having anything and everything you wanted at the snap of a finger. He skulked behind her and her two friends as they walked towards the club, his hands in his pockets. He would almost feel sorry for her due to her lack of attention and love at home.
"Porco, you get our drinks."
Almost felt sorry for her.
An hour later, he was leaning against the barrier that was a few feet above the dancefloor where his client's precious angel was dancing with her pals. His cheek rested on his fist, eyes heavy and bored. He watched her sway to the music, the only elevation of the repentance of this job was Ashley was pretty easy on the eyes. But my god was she annoying.
His eyes flicker slightly when he notices two men who've appeared next to her, dancing along with her movements. Pretty harmless so far - they seemed to be keeping their distance.
"Bad client?" A low voice mutters as one of the bouncers stood next to him, draping his arms over the railing.
It was obvious, especially to anyone else in the business what Porco was - his white shirt and black tie hugging his large form tightly a dead give away.
A sigh leaves his lips but he doesn't remove his eyes from the dancing woman. "...You have no idea."
The bouncer chuckled. "Yeah I've had those jobs before. Just gotta keep thinking of the money."
"That's the only thing that keeps me going." Proco's tone was low and dragged out, practically whining with boredom. "She doesn't know but tonight's my last night watching her."
He tensed when he saw one of the men now placing his hand on Ashley's lower back, whispering in her ear. They began swaying together as he pressed against her his hands roaming.
"You're... Gorgeous." The man whispered in her ear, resulting in a pink flush across her cheeks.
His sneer quickly vanished when a large hand grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him back with ease.
"Come on, stud. That's close enough." Porco muttered.
"Porco! What are you doing?!" Ashley protested, grabbing the man's arm in an attempt to pull him back.
"You're not allowed to be -"
"I don't care! I'm not allowed to do anything! You always ruin my fun!" She screamed, stamping her foot before storming away.
Tossing the man to the side like an empty packet of chips, he pushed his way through the crowd in pursuit of her. If he lost sight of this lady, he's a goner.
God that screach! He thinks as he follows her outside. I'd love to shut her up by shoving my cock in that loud mouth.
He kept a safe distance from her fury as she made her way back to the hotel, storming into their shared room.
He was surprised to find her sitting on her bed, sobbing. Her tragic emeralds soaked wit tears as she dabs her cheeks adorably.
"Ashley?" He frowns.
He'd seen her lose her shit. He'd seen her boss people around. But he'd never witnessed her crying before.
"Oh, it's you. What a surprise." She whispers sarcastically, gazing down at the floor. "I know I'm difficult. But that's just... How I vent my frustrations I guess. I'm twenty two and can't do anything. I have no privacy. I want to have sex. And it's impossible. I'll always have some... Bodyguard casting a shadow over me."
Porco's mouth pulled into a frown. He didn't really know what to say. He was just doing his job. And he wasn't particularly fond of her so he was finding difficult to sympathise on a deep level. He felt some pity though, as she sniffled at the ground.
Her fingers curled into a fist as anger began to bubble up out from the sorrow. "I mean, I can't have anything I want! I want to be able to have boyfriends, I don't want that Mercedes, I asked my dad for a Porsche! But do I get that? No---! Is my dog a pedigree like I asked? Nope! And even then I -"
Her tear soaked eyes widened in surprise when Porco's fat cock shoved deep into her mouth, his large hands on her head, shoving it in deeper. She'd been so self absorbed in her shallow ranting she hadn't even noticed him pulling his hardening cock out from his trousers.
"Will you shut the fuck up?" He snarls, pushing himself further past her sweet lips and down her throat. "You're so fucking annoying." A deep groan passes his mouth at the feel of her tight throat. "If you want to ride a dick so bad, shut up and have mine."
Her eyes were still wide, but she wasn't pulling away. Her skin began to heat up as this large, well built and strong man began to thrust in and out of her mouth.
Porco let our a deep sigh and looked up at the ceiling, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Ah... Just shut up. Fuck..."
"Porco..." She gasps as he pushes her thighs up to her chest and looking down at her bare slit.
His shaft vibrated deliciously as she moaned around him, her heart pounding the extra blood supply down to her already wet pussy. He pulls himself out with a pop, pushing her back harshly and pulling down her skirt and panties with one easy tug.
"Nice and pretty like I thought it'd be." He nods with an impressed frown.
"Are you really going to-"
"Do you want me to sort you out?" He glares.
She nods.
"Then the only words to leave that fuckin' mouth of yours is my name. Got it?"
She nods again, more eagerly.
Her back arches and she calls out loudly when he closes his mouth around her clit, sucking and tasting her, his warm tongue flicking over her frustrated nub.
"Ah~! Porco!" She cries out when he slides his two fingers into her coin slot, activating her loud whines.
"Porco! Oh my god!" She calls out, her grip clasping onto his hair as she rode the golden wave of ecstasy into the next world. Her juices flowed down his wrist as she spasmed and pulled, her cunt just as greedy as her personality. He wasn't going to let her calm down though. Was he fuck.
She fuckin tastes good too. He thinks as he works her, even her moans of pleasure were annoying. Overly loud and high pitched. He couldn't wait to ruin her, finish and never see her again. She begins to squirm around, her tight walls clenching around his fingers, her orgasm already threatening the boundaries of her reality.
Without letting her catch her breath he stood up and harshly pushed his fat head into her entrance, her overstimulated whimpered gasp satisfying him greatly.
Finally got her to shut up.
He kept her legs pressed to her chest rolling his hips deeply, his breathy pants quickly warming the air in the room. His balls slappes against her relentlessly as she stared up at the ceiling with her mouth wide open, totally silent, not able to move with the pleasures his large dick was pulsing into her.
His eyes flashed up at the clock on the bedstand.
23:52.
He pounded faster, her wetness splashing around her and across his stomach and balls, her nails digging into his forearms as she came again, her silent scream not audible in their dimension.
"Fuck." He hisses as her insides clamp down onto him, trying to milk him for all his worth.
"Urgh... Take my cock, you fuckin bitch." He barks, slapping his hand across her ass, hard leaving a red mark. "This is what your daddy should have done years ago, you brat." He snarls before giving another open palmed slap.
He pulls out, once again not even letting her recover as he rolled her onto all fours with ease, her legs trembling as he pushed the side of her face into the bed, re entering her with a gruff groan. She can't see. Her body is overloaded with sesntivity. She begins to drool a little into the sheets, her eyes rolled into the back of her head as shes pounded into oblivion.
"P-por... Porco... Ah... Haa..." She whispers not able to use her basic functions, his cock basically prodding at her vocal chords.
The bed creaks and slams against the wall as he goes even harder, her cunt sucking and spurting, flexing in delight as he hurtles her into another climax, her tongue falling out of her mouth with a satisfied smile not even able to cry out anymore as she cums.
She wasn't worthy of his seed. So a few moments later, he pulls out of her soppy slit and rolls her onto her back, tugging himself as steaming ropes of his thick cum splatter across her dazed face, covering her from chin up to her hair.
"Look at the state of you..." He sighs, catching his breath as he picks up her skirt from the floor, using it to clean his cock.
She lay there, legs splayed, covered in cum, her own drool and sweat.
"That was just a quickie too." He shakes his head, throwing her skirt down to her to clean herself up. But she doesn't.
"Porco..." She finally breathes, coming back to life as he tucks himself back in his trousers. "That was... Oh my god. Can we do that again? All night?"
His eyes go back to the clock.
00:03
"Sorry, princess. My shift is over. You're under someone else's watch from 8am too. Was nice working with - what am I saying? It was a fucking nightmare."
She sits up, her eyes wide. "W-what?"
"You heard me." He grabs his coat and heads for the door. "Take care of yourself, now."
"Porco. You can't do this!" She barks, trying to get to her feet but her legs were still too mangled from being absolutely railed. "Wait until my father hears about this!"
"Whatever." He rolls his eyes. "You can't have everything you want. I'm not a possession. And you're not having me."
"POR----CO!" She screams as he leaves, the door slamming behind him.
#snk imagines#snk#attack on titan#snk season 4#snk headcanons#snk fandom#snk porco#aot porco#porco smut#porco galliard#porco imagines#attack on titan porco#porco snk#porco aot#snk smut
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For those of you who made it through my laughably incoherent ethabaster think piece, here’s some hc’s, you’ve earned them:
- Ethan has sole possession of their one shared brain cell. Alabaster is not allowed to even look at it. This is because they used to have two but Al broke the good one trying to blow up something (probably Percy).
- If Al finds out Ethan left without some form of magical protection i.e. a sigil, a crystal, ground eggshells, he will be pretty much vibrating with nerves until Ethan gets back so he can give him a once-over.
- Alabaster’s from a very witchy family who all worship Hecate for many reasons that differ depending on which estranged relative you ask and they all kinda saw Al as the first coming of witch Christ so he had a lot of expectations at a very young age.
- Ethan knows this and tries to lift as much Titan army business off his shoulders as possible.
- He accidentally lifts too much off to the point where he is drowning in work and is now the one in need of saving. But does he tell anyone that if he looks at one more stack of demands from his mile long list of bosses he’s going to cry for five hours? Of course not don’t be ridiculous.
- Alabaster immediately hated Percy as soon as he heard the guys name but due to the arena stuff and telling Thalia not to k*ll him Ethan actually held a bit of respect for Percy which annoyed Al to no end.
-This was until the not-so-peaceful peace talk in tlo when Percy starts shit talking Nemesis and Ethan just internally goes “actually the witch bitch was right this guy sucks ass”
-However, under no circumstances will Ethan ever tell this to Alabaster; not because he values his pride (he has none) but because he knows the life of a demigod is short and he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his very short one hearing Al rub that one thing in his face for every single second of it.
- And I mean Every. Single. Second.
- So yeah he takes that to the grave and doesn’t even tell anyone in the underworld in case they tell Al when he dies and he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his afterlife with Al being a dumbass. (also yes Ethan got into Elysium, fuck you)
- (Actually I have another idea about where Ethan went post-life but that’s so far from canon it’s more of an AU than a headcanon so we’re gonna leave that out for now)
- Al thought he was the one in charge of the Hecate kids because he was the most powerful and the highest ranking in the army but he was Not. That was Ethan. The Hecate kids thought Ethan was their unofficial adopted baby brother but little did they know he was the mum the whole time.
- Ethan is the only thing standing between them and starving to death. He also does the younger kids hair and gives everyone with long hair super intricate braids that stay out of their faces during “field work”. Al thinks this is more of him trying to take the weight off his shoulders but Ethan knows that if he doesn’t do this shit no one will so he kinda has to. Not that he doesn’t like doing it. being helpful is his love language.
- Because of their powers over the mist the Hecate kids of the army were notorious pranksters who were usually at war with the Hermes kids (wars usually declared by Al because he rolled a zero on self restraint) but none of them prank Ethan because “nooooo you can’t do him he babey 🥺”
- Ethan has simply decided that what the magic prank wizards don’t know can’t hurt them and just turns to his blind side whenever he sees them sneaking off the ship to get Micky D’s in the middle of the night to stay on their good sides.
- Speaking of the ship, Ethan thinks it’s the dumbest thing in the world that one of their most powerful demigod enemies is the son of a sea god and he actually has a pretty decent relationship with said sea god and their main base of operations aside from mt Othrys is a fucking BOAT. He tells Al all about his worries for the ship and while Al assures him that nothing that bad could happen he always makes sure that the ship always has the least amount of demigods on board at all times just in case.
- It takes all the strength Ethan has not to yell “TOLD YOU SO” at him when the ship blows up.
- Al probably either wears basic white boy clothes or typical witchy stuff (like moons and shit) depending his mood meanwhile Ethan found out about leather and just goes for it.
- Every grunge/punk/emo/eboy/teachwear bitch aspires to be him and because he aint about all that “gender roles” bs he definitely goes about wearing cool egirl stuff too. Not just slightly feminine shaped jumpers but all the plaid skirts, fishnets and lace trimmed dresses he can steal afford and Al, despite his more basic fashion taste is here for it. You’ve never seen someone more supportive of their pals fits, get you a hypeman like Al. You deserve it. (Ethan is also not afraid to walk around in a full pastel gamer girl fit)
- (Also Al hyping up one Ethans fits in front of a Titan is the reason they were allowed to start wearing army fatigues instead of the whole ancient Greek armour on occasion)
- Ethan appreciates Al’s enthusiasm but he also kinda doesn’t get it. And he definitely doesn't do that “yeah you’re right I DO look good” thing because he just doesn’t know how. He’d always been a little self-conscious about getting a big head but then he found out about Nemesis and hubris and all that fun stuff, looked at his meager pile of self worth and said “ yep, this has to go”
- Al almost starts crying when he finds out and pretty much makes it mission to be such a good hype man that Ethan has no choice but to think of himself as a Pretty Cool Dude via absorbing the hype through diffusion. It kinda starts working but then Ethan [REDACTED] in tlo so we’ll never know what could’ve been.
- To nick a hc from someone ( hi @chromarozee-spam) contrary to his taste in clothes Ethan does ballet (he was a punk AND did ballet, what more can I say?) and while Al tries to support his hobbies he is genuinely afraid both for and of him. “For” because “holy fuck that looks painful are you okay?”. And “of” because “are you sure those are bones inside you because I don’t think bones are supposed do that?!”.
- Ethan tries to assure him that no his spine is not made of rubber, broken bones or otherworldly materials so can he stop bothering him during practice please?
- This does not stop Al from making a million protection wards and constantly asking his deck if Ethan is indeed a Being of this Good Green Earth.
- Eventually his cards pretty much just tell him that he is friends with one bendy heck of a boi and he needs to fucking get over it so he kinda just,, ,,,,, , does.
- Again with the hc thieving (this time from @altorringtons) Al learning to use a two-handed broadsword so he can guard Ethan’s blind side and back in a fight *soft noises* just them trying so hard to keep each other alive because they love each other and they care about each other!
- They also sleep in the same bed whenever they get the chance (fully clothed ya nasties, they’re kids) and they just hug each other soooo tight because they just need to know they’re alright cos they always get pretty banged up in fights against campers or just monsters that are too much like wild animals to recruit. (What? Me? Projecting my desire to be intimately held by the closest person I have to family with their arms wrapped not tight enough to make me uncomfortable but tight enough to make me feel loved? Never! What on earth are you talking about?)
- Because Al is super stubborn and prideful whenever they have an argument Al can’t really bring himself to say he’s sorry so when he’s ready to apologise he just climbs into bed on Ethan’s blind side and cuddles him because he knows Ethan is super worried about getting attacked on his blind side so it’s like he has a guard or a shield.
- Ethan on the other hand just calls him a Rock Boy in a derogatory way until he gets over himself and apologizes but he really does love the fact that Al knows that about him and accommodates that.
- The thing they fight about most is how “heroic” the titan army is. Kronos’ brainwashing worked on Al like a charm and he fully believes that they are the rebellion and camp is the empire. Ethan on the other hand wasn’t at camp long enough for Kronos or Luke to really do anything but it doesn’t matter because Ethan really doesn’t give a shit if he’s on the “evil side” cos he just wants respect and he’s willing to do what it takes without a second thought of how people see him. If he thinks he’s doing the right thing but on the wrong side he can live with that but Al needs to feel like all of his side is on the moral high ground because that’s what Kronos drilled into his brain.
- Ethan knows that Al delusional when it comes to the non-existent heroics of the army but eventually he just decides to let Al believe the titans lies because that’s easier for him even if it hurts Ethan to see him being manipulated like that.
- Due to Ethan not giving a shit on the humanity of his bosses he gets punished a lot more often and a lot more violently than Al because they know that Ethan already knows they don’t care about him so they don’t have to sugar coat him but Al still believes that they’re heroes and his mindset needs to stay like that to keep him obedient.
- Also because I am a Cruel Person By Nature I hc Ethan’s mortal family (which usually just consists of his dad) as meeting a not very pg13 end at the hands of a monster who wanted to nible on Ethan a tad which pretty much scarred him for life.
- SO, at the end of the battle of Man Hats Are In when Al looks around and sees that his whole family (that joined the titans) are dead! oh no! How sad! At least he knows someone whose been through the same thing so they understand each other and can help each other through this tough time together right? SIKE!
- so yeah Al learns Ethan d-worded in the worst possible way at the worst possible time and just looses it from grief. Loosing his family was bad enough but finding out he lost the one person he thought he would be able to confide in and heal with immediately after just really rubs salt in the wound.
- When the survivors start re-grouping to find someplace to hide until the gods forget about them Al just wanders off because it’s all he can do to not break down on the spot.
- He’s just wandering in a daze for a while and most people just assume he’s high but he snaps out of it and gets into anger mode when Lamia starts attacking him because he finally has something to do and occupy himself with even though it’s hard not to think about his sibling especially when Lamia keeps talking like they never would have died if she’d been in charge which is why she should totally just kill him and lead their siblings instead.
- His desire to have something to keep his mind off his family and Ethan is the first thing he thinks about when Claymore re-alives and immediately starts talking about doing research (yeah because that’s what you need after a long stressful day of fighting monsters and literally dying).
- Ethan keeps trying to cross the veil and help, even if he just sends Al a pleasant dream to help him sleep but contrary to what you might think from the name, the veil is really hard to cross so Ethan just has to bite his nails and watch his friend suffer.
- It gets easier to watch after Al and Claymore pretty much adopt each other because at least he has someone but they do still get into pretty scary situations.
- When they were both premortem they got paired up for a lot of missions for the titan army and they usually just tried to pretend they were on a fun road trip around America when they could and make fun of mortal shit together.
- At one point they were in a motel and the last people accidentally left behind one of Claymore’s books about death and they found it the funniest thing ever. Between a pair of in which one of their mum’s regularly goes to the underworld and one has been there himself they find mortal ideas of the afterlife to be very amusing.
- Alabaster has decided he would not like to share this with the class (Claymore) thank you very much.
- Also when they’re doing their road tripping Ethan knows all the best places to crash, the cheapest food places and the local gangs don’t bother them because between running away from camp and joining the army he just wandered around a lot.
- Like he’d just hop on a random train, take a nap and figure it out when he wakes up; he made a lot of friends this way too as well as his taste in clothes cos he didn’t have a lot of money so he’d just DIY some second hand punk shit. Al thinks he’s the Gandalf of the demigod world because he just knows everyone who might help them and everywhere they could spend the night. He definitely tells his siblings about Ethan being the closest thing they have to a wandering wizard and they fucking love it.
- Also because Nemesis tends to not have a lot of kids Ethan was the only one of hers in the army and Al felt really bad for him because his sibling were his favourite part about the army so he tried to include Ethan in as much as possible with his siblings.
- As an unexpected result Ethan ended up with a small army of super powered children to sick on the people who keep making jabs about him loosing in the arena battle.
- Al sometimes thinks he’s given him too much power but also he will fuck a bitch up if they make fun of his pals so he sees where his siblings are coming from and yeah those bitches had it coming. He also has a copy of bitchcraft.
- Ethan’s dad was the type to play “Stay With Me” by Miki Matsubara on repeat for hours and Ethan would probably enjoy the song but he’s heard it so often that now it makes his ears bleed and Al sometimes tortures him with for fun until Ethan starts throwing shit.
- To steal another hc from @chromarozee-spam Ethan has a thing for cats and one time Al accidentally gave himself mistform cat-ears and Ethan could not stop touching them. Ethan was just craning his head back uncontrollably grinning so much his face hurt. Al can’t bring himself to be upset because Ethan rarely ever smiles since he joined the army.
- Al saw Ethan crying over one of those video’s where people put their hoodies on backwards and put their cat in the hood so he made a mist cat and bought him a hoodie. Ethan of course started crying again but it was happy tears instead.
- Ethan is fucking tiny while Al is almost a foot taller than him. He wouldn’t mind so much if Al didn’t exhaust every opportunity to rub it in his face so he just starts climbing all over shit (especially tall buildings) half to give Al heart attacks and half so he can be like “Sorry? What was that? I’m so high up I can’t hear you. Can you speak up a little? Maybe get a ladder? Or taller?”
- Also I don’t know why but I hc Al as Texan. Ethan gets told about this “Alabaster C. Torrington” guy who knows latin, incantations and other magical knowledge and expects some fancy British guy so when they meet and Al speaks Ethan gets whiplash so hard he fuckin chokes.
- Al is also very casual and Ethan is pretty professional so when he meets this magic general with a straight back and the first thing that comes out of this assholes mouth is some “Howdy y’all!!” bullshit he just dies on the spot.
- Also because Al is texan he is very sensitive to the cold (I’m about 80% sure that Texas is one of the Warm states) so when he has to do stuff in cold places like the labyrinth or new york (idk about that one to but in every film I’ve seen that’s set in NY it’s raining for about 90% of the time) he complains about being freezing all the time until Ethan helpfully reminds him that he can literally make fire out of nothing, surely he can find a way to warm himself up.
- Ethan is also sensitive to the cold because he’s basically malnourished but he’s been like that for a while and thinks it’s normal so he sucks it up until Al notices he’s always cold. Ethan tells him it’s fine but Al is basically a walking electric blanket so whenever Al cuddles him to keep him warm Ethan can’t help but melt because he’s so fucking warm and soft and have you noticed I crave intimacy?
- Ethan started studying Greek myths vigorously since he found out he was a demigod and when he died he kept an eye and an ear out for Al because even though he wouldn’t be able to do anything it still reassures him to know what’s going on, HOWEVER, he was almost filled with enough malice to rip through the barrier between the living and the dead purely to beat an ass when he hears Al’s little “I don’t bother reading about worthless monsters like you!” jab.
- Ethan is very jumpy and fidgety to the point where Al is genuinely concerned and while Ethan assures Al that nothing’s wrong Al is still suspicious. Ethan probably would have told Al about it if it was because of anything but Kronos but seeing that it mostly is, he doesn’t because Ethan feels like Al will just take Kronos’ word over his and he’ll loose the only person he trusts in the army.
- Al doesn’t find out about it until way after the war when Kronos’ brainwashing starts to come undone because by then his mindset is a lot less biased in the titans favour so he can see things that he just unconsciously ignored before and is able to put two and two together. When he does boy is it a trip.
- Ethan is really bad at talking about feelings and stuff so whenever Al gets upset over something and Ethan has no idea how to talk to him he’ll just get him some rocks. One time Ethan found out about those heart shaped valentine boxes that are normally filled with chocolates but people put crystals in them and that just became his go-to for when Al was especially upset.
- Al is only slightly better at talking about stuff but he can still get Ethan to open up to him which is good because Ethan isn’t very materialistic so it’s hard to make him feel better by buying him things and because someone needs to get Ethan to express himself in an emotionally healthy way.
- Also because of this they just can’t tell each other they love each other. Like they’ll barely whisper it when the other is asleep because they’re just so bad at talking about feelings. It wasn’t that much of an issue until after the war and Ethan gets k-worded and Al is left alone and sobbing over all the times he never told his loved ones how much they meant to him.
- But because this is a headcanon list; fuck that, Al saved Ethan with some sort of magic bullshit and they talk about how much they love each other all the time now because they can’t stand the thought of one of them dying having never been told how much they are loved.
#me going around nicking hcs: thank you for your sacrifices#this will help tremendously in the war effort#also max i am extremely pleased to tell you that auto correct thinks Harrington is a lovely name for you#and you stan the magic messiah#autocorrect didn't say that one#but it's true#pjo#percy jackson#ethan nakamura#alabaster torrington#alabaster c torrington#ethan x alabaster#ethabaster
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Collaborations #1 (’Shriekback are Seeing Other People’)
Well, collaboration is everything really innit? No man is an island, not even the ones who pretend they are. That’s what I reckon. Merging somebodys’ talents and energies with yours. What a thing. The very stuff of life.
Still, it can be a fractious business: politics will come into it. LIke: who’s in charge here? Who gets to say whether your bit is better than my bit? And how do we work that shit out? A microcosm of the world or what?
Undeterred, we seem to do it (collaborate) quite a lot. And these are some pretty successful tunes, I would say. Good for us. Bold and resolute Shriekback!
So there’s Hope, right?
(BA)
MART’S TRACKS:
DROP BY DROP Barker/Burridge
Taken from my Album" Water and Stone." Exploring my rolling Gtr and groove in 7 with the wonderfully talented musician cellist Emily Burridge.
Inspired by the miracle of water, its rhythm, its music, its journey, its myths, its poetry and beauty
FLYING SAUCER Barker/ Roedelius/Noah1
Lovely to have met and worked with the master of Ambience, Hans Joachim Roedelius for the Album Fibre.
Recorded up in the hills of Shropshire with George Taylor (Noah1) and Jez coed
This piece was inspired by my riff Im playing on the Hang Drum, hence the title "Flying Saucer"
GOLDEN MOON Barker/Young
Taken from my mini Album” Blue” Talitha Rise.
This was my first big endeavour into the musical spiritual world and collaboration with Jo beth young.
We are joined on the Riti by Juldeh Camara.
PILGRIM`S WAY Barker/Adams
My new project/collaboration still ongoing with the mighty talent of Justin Adams .
This first piece inspired by ancient walks.
This new whole album partly inspired by the writing of Robert Macfarlane "the old ways"
SANDLINES. Barker/ Adams
Second piece inspired the Ancient paths of the desert.
THE LAKE Barker/Young taken from the album" Abandoned Orchid House” Talitha Rise
Another collaboration with Jo beth Young and another piece in 7!
Intense, energetic and rich with riddles.
THE SELKIE. Barker / Pynn
Second Piece taken from my Album "Water and Stone”
Inspired by the Myths and stories of the Selkie. With the magical multi instrumentalist Nick Pynn on Violin.
CARL’S TRACKS:
Words Fail Me
with AMANDA KRAVIT
(Barratt/Marsh)
David Barratt and I were introduced to Amanda by John Mrvos, one of the A&R team at EastWest Atlantic in New York (Happyhead’s label) - she was his girlfriend and he wanted to get her recorded, basically, so we came up with this. Dave had done some kind of publishing deal that allowed him to sample the company catalogue, hence Ravi Shankar playing sitar all over it. Backing vocals by Bill Clift; some of the drums sound like Jim Kimberley, sampled from HH sessions (1992ish.)
The Longest Goodbye
with BILL CLIFT
(Clift/Marsh)
I’ve written loads with Bill under various banners, of course. This is a mid-90s demo recorded in Bill’s flat in Greenwich. BVs by Stella Clifford and Marilyn Gentle, bass (I think) by Gary Brady… not sure who did the wibbly organ. This song was later recorded by Bill’s band Fuzzbuddy, re-titled Killing Me Now - it’s just been re-released as part of their Complete Studio Recordings compilation.
THE PALACE DOGS
with GEOFF WOOLEY
I’ve collaborated with Geoff Woolley since Out On Blue Six, and in school bands even before that. These two tracks, from around 1995, are both built from sampled TV shows (and therefore subject to all sorts of potential copyright issues…).
Queen of Peoples’ Hearts
(Marsh/Woolley)
The self-styled QOPH’s Panorama special, cut up and pumped up with added Dario Argento and a spot of Jeremy Paxman. The Original is all-electronic; the Guitar Version has not only mine and Geoff’s rhythm bits but some wildfire lead from Steve Bolton (Atomic Rooster, Paul Young, The Who etc. and currently fronting the mighty Dead Man’s Corner). Take yer pick.
Crazy Dames
(Marsh/Woolley)
The main voice and piano on here are from a 1961 Twilight Zone episode called The Midnight Sun, in which the Earth is knocked out of orbit and is spiralling towards the Sun… it gets hot. Other vocals by Stella Clifford and Marilyn Gentle.
GASWERKS
The Ying Tong Song
(Milligan)
Basically the same format as The Palace Dogs with the addition of Bill Clift, whose idea it was to knock out a dance version of The Goons’, er, classic. Dig that crazy rhythm, indeed. We were told the novelty song market was a hard one to crack… by the singer of Black Lace, who should know, I suppose…
WOOLLEY/MARSH
The Girlfriends Of Dorian Gray
(Barratt/Marsh/Woolley)
David Barratt came up with the conceit of a modern Dorian Gray who preserves his youth (or immaturity) not by having a grotesquely ageing portrait in the attic but by having an ever-changing string of girlfriends who absorb the consequences of his many flaws and are discarded one after another. Dave sketched out the chorus and then proposed that he, I and Deni Bonet (NY-based violinist and writer that we’ve worked with on various projects) should write our own versions of the story, possibly with the idea of creating some kind of meta-version combining them all. That never happened, but I like the track Geoff and I came up with and the lyric is nice and tricksy - shades of Costello, maybe, if I say so myself.
You’re The Only One
(Marsh/Woolley)
A re-write of a Happyhead demo, switching New York electronica for some 90s Britpop vibes, it sounds like. Bit of a kinky ménage à trois scenario with reasonably loud guitars. Nice.
BARRY’S TRACKS
The Frances & Martine poems, with Hilda Sheehan (2014)
part 1: GLOW, GOOSE, CORN-REMOVER
part 2: COAT, ARM, KNOB OF BUTTER
I met Hilda Sheehan - through the (surprisingly vibey) Swindon poetry scene when I was stationed back there for 10 years in '04. She was often the star turn at their spoken word events and, I thought, had the mark of a real artist in that she came with her own self-contained world (’magical realist Northern UK kitchen sink’, if I had to describe it).
I thought it would be fun to 'set' (as they say) some of her poems to music and so I did. From Hilda's considerable oeuvre, I picked the Frances and Martine series - I liked F&M's mutually abrasive dependence - the key ingredient in any sitcom - and the succinct and sometimes brutal nature of each of their adventures.
Dame Hilda Sheehan
The Anaxaton6 EP with Mike Tournier (2013)
I first worked with Mike Tournier (Big Mike as opposed to Little Mike - these were Flukes' Contrasting Mikes at the time) as producer on their OTO album c.94. Techno outfit Fluke apparently liked them some Olde Shriekback (they had worked previously with Wendy and Sarah) and thought I might add something to the project.
It turned out that producing a techno band is every bit as awkward as you might imagine (there’s only one computer screen for a start) and we abandoned the collaboration after I'd failed to insert myself into Fluke's process in any useful way (sandwich run doesn't count).
Anyway, we stayed in touch and collaborated rather more successfully on a Fluke/Shriekback tune and performance for MTV.
It was the redoubtable Julian Nugent, Fluke's manager, who got in touch - in 2013 to suggest that Mike and I might like to try knocking up a tune together.
I liked the idea of this straightaway. Mike can produce huge, hi-torque productions and I had an idea of a songwriting approach which I though might complement this. The vocalist would be recognisably the bloke out of Shriekback but CG’d with florid new appendages. I fancied some mad-as-a-rat lyrics (Welcome to their secret sign: Boola Stack! Haunted Lego of the Mind! Boola Stack!) but the music would be slick and vivid and solidly crafted because that's always how Mike rolls. Thus you get something quite absurd being taken very seriously which is, to my mind, the best thing you can possibly have.
extract from the sleeve notes:
BONE MARAUDER tells of a pure love, painful engorgement and hog sorcery.
JUJUGRID (GO LIVE!) wrangles with hedonic guilt, ecclesiastical turpitude and leaves everything else the fuck alone.
BOOLA STACK! - There are so many things to say of Boola Stack that to ennumerate them insults us both.
NO FOOL BOLETUS... let's just be clear about this: you got nothing to hide, there's no need to worry. Be lucky.
Michaele don Turino and Bleary Android are the naked mortals chained to the husky obelisk of ANAXATON6
Anaxaton6 has some videos here:
https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=anaxaton6
Mike Tournier
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Jude & Jac
Jude: [sends her the snaps as if she hasn't seen that the fuckboy posted them like obvs she has seen them if you have gal but okay] Jude: ?! Jac: yeah Jac: bit rude he didn't tag us, I guess Jude: he never tags anyone Jude: idk if he knows how Jac: I'm sure I'll still get the ❤s Jude: & the dms Jac: alls well that ends well then Jude: at least your night didn't end in 🚔👮🚨 Jac: the joys of being of age Jac: what party got shutdown then Jude: Amelia's Jude: 🏡👀👵 Jac: No shit Jac: it's like throwing a party in a nursing home Jude: 🤣 it was decent before then though Jude: I'd give it an 8 Jac: @ her Jac: you know how to do them Jude: she ain't gonna take it on board when she's losing points for not enough straight boys Jude: just take it as a 🥇🏆 Jac: what do you expect Jude: 0 expectations Jac: yeah, that's something to shout about Jude: like you've got a leg to stand on there but alright Jac: ?! Jude: you were always going on at me about my rep before & you're not even bothered about yours now Jac: how do you know I'm not bothered Jude: ⬆ Jac: I'm not bothered about talking to you about Amelia's party Jac: that has no interest for me Jude: I only mentioned my 🏃 & my rating Jac: why? Jac: I didn't ask Jude: obvs you're 🤐 Jude: why would I wait for you to ask Jac: heaven forbid we aren't subjected to a never-ending stream of consciousness Jude: my bad for checking in, like Jude: 🙄 Jac: where, where'd you do that Jude: ⬆ Jac: you mean when you talk about yourself again, yeah, cool Jac: where would I be without that kind of care Jude: oh come on Jude: you don't have to @ me if there's owt you wanna say Jac: and clearly there isn't Jac: so don't bother rolling your eyes, you came into my inbox Jac: so you say what you want to say then piss off Jude: what are you so fuming for? Jac: Jesus, you're self-absorbed Jac: why the fuck do you think Jude: I 🤔💭 you know what he's like Jac: blame me then, that's a hot take Jude: nah, you don't do anything without your own 🥇💡 for every way it can play out Jac: and what possible reason would I have for doing this Jude: idk Jac: sherlock you ain't Jude: never said I was Jude: you're the 🧠 Jac: then you're chatting shit Jude: I can be the 🥊 if you want & you are bothered by the shit everyone's gonna chat Jac: I can handle it Jude: alright Jac: people are just jealous Jac: he's the hottest boy still at our school Jude: yeah, that's undeniable Jac: they judge but they all would if they could Jude: no shit Jude: how he gets away with being too thick to @ Jac: not as if I was there to do homework Jude: he has people he 💰 is what I heard Jude: for the homework bit Jac: yeah he's loaded Jac: might go out with him for the presents Jude: like I said 🥇💡 Jac: obviously Jude: I got asked out last night an' all but it was a no Jac: there were some straight boys that weren't our brother then Jac: interesting Jude: mates of mine Jude: or so I 🤔💭 Jac: that's all boys want Jude: it's whatever, I can handle it Jac: sure Jude: ? or ! Jac: . Jac: ... if you really wanna get a sense of my disbelief Jude: 👌 Jac: Cool, you can tell Jesse he's a traitor too Jude: he's not here Jude: hang on 📢🗨 Jude: probs helping her 🧼🧽🧹🗑 before her mum & dad get back Jac: Tragic Jude: bit weird that they're best mates now Jude: she 👻 us for ages after you fell out Jac: it's not weird, just sad, as aforementioned Jude: she loves his new 🎵 that'll do him Jude: 💃 to whatever the 💊 she was on though Jac: if you have to buy your fans with 🧼🧽🧹🗑 you can't be any good Jude: 🤣 Jac: 🙄 Jude: maybe he just can't get his head through her door Jac: yes, playing a party for free is really impressive Jac: especially when the host has no friends Jude: 💔 you're not 📢🗨 to him Jude: be a decent ego check, that Jac: I have no desire to talk to him either Jude: I know Jude: called him a traitor & then dragged him Jac: I'm glad that's clear Jude: 💎 Jac: then I won't have to hit him again Jude: & none of us will have to put up with him 😭 Jude: tah for that Jac: hardly my fault he's a pussy Jude: not getting the 🎻 out Jac: makes a change Jude: he had a go at me for being there Jude: such a dickhead Jac: wants his new best friend to himself Jac: has no one told him she's actually gay Jude: he'd have to be thicker than your new bf not to work it out Jac: probably thinks everyone puts it on like he does Jude: she's never got with a lad has she? Jac: I don't know Jude: it's what everyone says but loads of what they 🗨 is bollocks Jac: makes no odds to the fact everyone will be saying that he clearly fancies her Jude: yeah Jude: do you reckon he does? Jac: why else would he do that for her Jude: she's got no mates, might just reckon she needs one Jac: sure Jude: like when you took Savannah in Jac: not really Jac: she had friends Jude: not proper ones Jac: still, she weren't begging for friends Jac: or approaching the kind of pathetic Amelia is these days Jude: I guess Jac: there's no question Jude: she did seem really 💔😭🎻 Jude: I'd be well chuffed if mum & dad pissed off for the weekend Jac: you know they're weirdly close Jude: I bet her mum has shut down loads of parties she's 👀👂 in everyone's business Jude: bit of karma there or whatever Jac: surprising they've gone away Jac: she's clearly miserable with her life Jude: her house is wild Jude: I'd never been before Jac: if wild meant insanely boring, yeah, sure Jude: nursing home is right Jude: that's what I meant Jac: I know Jude: my mates who don't have 🐶🐱 live in 🏠 that look like they belong on the telly Jude: not that Jac: like I said, her mum has no life Jac: when she's not got her nose in everyone's business, she's making ugly shit for their house Jude: making it? Jude: 🥉 Jac: pinterest Jac: hope Jesse knows the future he's signing up for Jude: not 🤘🎸😎🏆 Jac: 🔪👀 🤯🔫 more like Jude: *🤪👵 Jac: if you think her mum is miserable, imagine how her dad feels Jac: is my point Jude: god yeah Jude: 💀 Jac: no wonder she's dating girls Jude: I wonder if she is going out with anyone Jac: why would you care Jude: if Jess does Jude: he's a dickhead but I don't want him to be 💔 Jac: 🙄 Jude: is dad down there with you? Jac: no clue Jude: is his 🚪🔐? Jac: they never forget now they're obsessed with trying to imprison me Jude: ugh Jac: still, I'm going out Jude: let me out with you, I g2g & mum's being aggro about it Jac: why would I Jude: why not? Jac: because I have no reason to help you Jude: 🤔💭 of a reason then Jude: I'll do it if you help me Jac: there's nothing you could offer me, thanks Jude: come on Jac: why do you think they're any more likely to let me out Jude: cos they do Jude: you're officially off the rails Jac: no, the difference is, I don't care if they say I can or not Jac: that's your problem that you do Jude: I still have things I care about that they can take off me Jac: sucks to be you then Jude: cheers Jude: top quality sisterly advice Jac: I don't care about you Jude: I got that cos you keep saying it over & over Jac: Why are you still here Jude: what else am I gonna do? homework? Jude: not allowed to go nowhere Jac: might be an idea Jude: 💩💡 Jac: you'll live Jude: 🤏 Jac: you're all so pathetic Jude: it's you acting so hard done by Jac: yeah Jac: how'd you work that one out, genius Jude: the whinging happening Jude: just mute me like you have irl Jac: I'm not the one begging to go out Jac: but sure Jude: I asked, once, but alright Jac: and now you're moaning about having to do homework, which you won't do anyway Jac: and this whole time have been talking about things I don't care about ad nausea Jac: but you're SO right Jude: nah, I answered that I'd rather stay here 🗨 than do it since you asked Jac: you're boring, Jude Jude: you can't be bothered to chuck out a decent insult, nowt to do with me Jac: it's just the truth Jac: you wish there was anything more colourful to call you Jac: you just are Jude: you wish I was 💔😭 like Jess when you start on him Jac: if you get it, like you say, then you'd realise I literally don't think about you at all Jude: I get that you want me to piss off rn, it ain't happening Jac: I want you to piss off, that's about your lot Jac: so have at it Jude: yeah yeah Jude: just said that myself Jac: then do it Jude: what you gonna do 🥊 me? Jac: don't start or you'll find out Jude: you start everything Jac: so? Jude: so 🥊 me Jude: idc about that Jude: I'll smack you back Jac: then I'll fucking kill you Jac: leave me alone, I have nothing to say to you, I don't want to hear anything from you Jac: it's as simple as that Jude: but why? Jude: you've never said Jac: I don't like you Jude: it's more than that Jac: What could be more than that Jude: you didn't like me before, we still 🗨 Jac: and what was the point Jude: you're my sister Jac: and Jude: and you used to be bothered about it Jac: not now Jude: what happened? Jac: I got bored of you Jude: alright Jac: great Jude: [no reply I can really give so I'll just leave that there lol]
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The Stoic Prince (RK900!Prompt Request)
TLDR: To you he’s a smug pain in the ass but you still fantasize about getting dirty with him at the DPD.
Word Count: 1,912
TW: Language, Suggestive Themes, Smut Fantasy
A/N: Follower/Reader Appreciation Drabble | Prompt: “Why the hell am I attracted to snarky stuck up dick faces?” - anon request! Thanks for participating nonnie! This went somewhere else. 1 in the queue done! Onto the next!
"Why do you even bother talking to it?"
Bitter taste of coffee barely touches tongue. Peering up at the question leaves a tiny smirk across lips, which did a hesitant skim of cup rim. Can the DPD honestly get a better brand to chug out of this dispenser?
“Excuse me?”
Purposely hedging away from your co-worker’s sudden interrogation hardly hides the clear tinge of artifice lacing words. Speaking any further may give away this ploy. Of course you know who they mean. He is the only smug jackass that does a heck of a job digging under skin.
Tall, imposing steel scoping a sea of puny humans to gnaw on, using his steadfast jaw, cut from stone if he were made of clay to be fitted by the gods themselves. Plastic, metal – raw material configured, manipulated into eye catching aesthetics.
Fabricated beauty and despite a brusque imperious affectation streaming out of those cool, pert lips. Often times you fantasize how human, warm they might taste. Not just against your mouth but gliding in a hungry appreciation upon every inch of skin made readily available.
To say you had the hots for Nines is an understatement. To say it can go anywhere is another quandary in your grand scheme of things. Natural enigmas be damned he is a walking puzzle waiting to be stripped of his authoritarian programming and cynical attitude.
Unfortunately those gods decided pompous and hypocrisy should be star qualities. Incessantly rolling eyes at your luck, leaning casually into table, coffee machine obscured by your current position, sank an invigorating quiet into your weary body for a brief moment.
Breaks are never long enough. At least there isn’t a sign of top human asshole of the Detroit Police. Rather not have to put a foot up his ass again. However, let’s get back to the inquiry at hand since it hasn’t left the break room.
“Daydreaming about it? Wow, Y/N.”
Sounds like some others you’ve known in the city. Detroit is just a heaping pile of garbage on a good day. Android fever is still in full swing and not how society originally saw it unfolding.
"Don't call him that." You defend him while not in his presence. Better to keep it that way because no way in hell are you admitting how fast you’d drop clothes and get down with the rigid android on the force. "Just because he's an android, I mean."
The female officer rolls eyes at you. "Uh huh. Sure. Next time you’ll tell me Reed’s going out for drinks with Anderson and Connor.”
Considering androids do not drink she’s a long way off course. You snort.
“Better luck with puppy eyed boy,” the officer jabs, smug. “He doesn’t look like he wants to eat people alive. Or maybe that RK900 just wants to eat you out.”
Nearly spitting coffee all over moves you in a quick step forward, grabbing a napkin out of dispenser to brush splotches of brown liquid off shirt. Eat you out?! Yeah, absolutely!
Perfervid antagonism blinds your gaze resting in a target over fellow officer all consuming in personal embarrassment. Truth is not far from luscious fantasies swirling in nightly subconscious. More than a few dreams about tangling body, flesh and humanity with synthetic, plastic and robotics transforms sleep. It is a burning secret.
A mystery garden planted between the cages absconding the heart ruminating for something of construct, designed in perfection but never mind false images. Never mind unnatural heavenly auras built around a shell of mechanized man. He is everything you can dream about but never will quite openly acknowledge.
One more step and –
"Your heart rate is dangerously high for caffeine consumption."
The calculating voice of the RK900 hovers close, sinking in smooth and curt. A statement more so than concern but appropriately edged with his swift, sharp stride into break room.
Fusing a firm hand atop your shoulder seemingly resonates effectively. Analysis is punctual upon your figure as are the sweeping steel he possesses to invoke fear in opponents. He stares down suspects and useless colleagues alike. However there is a bit more skill in you out of most among these humans. He keeps silent, studying a wide appreciation in your eyes.
Pupil dilation is telling to an android who measures subtlety, language in the human form, moving under its own command. Rarely does he witness a shining example of what is referred to as a poker face in most offenders. Upon you it is quite - delicious.
The spike in vitals draws him. Nostrils flare in your personal radius sampling as a bloodhound on a ferocious hunt. Fluctuations respond exquisitely as you are equally confounding in his state of processing.
Do you honestly believe you will affect him in such a wasteful way without retaliation? The form in which he shadows your trembling inhibitions is opposite of what is desired in potential partners. This android does not care in the slightest for decorum.
He will pull you into his awaiting grasp, splaying atop his smooth marbled chest, wanton in prurience, undone from the molecules that form soft, fragile flesh. Tasting your essence will act as more than data on a long, skillful tongue. It will bury into the nerves breaking down your barriers in a flood of rapture.
All it takes is a deliberate push. Buttons unfastening with each poke he prods, bleeding into your skin and he does so intentionally to gain reaction. Steeping within your system liquefies him to the plasma running through veins.
Just as thirium runs a gamut of power to biocomponents he readily will be the life force keeping your mortal existence afloat. So it will be because he wills it out of a viral need you have unwittingly but most adoringly spread into his frame.
His lips twitch faint. A tiniest curve unseen by naked eye but he settles them to a hard line.
Your entire body shivers giving away how good he’s gotten you. Damn it. And he’s looking awfully smug about it all. Somehow he manages to keep his stoic façade nestling in his wide, masculine exterior; handsome is a mere flash in the pan for Nines.
He is beyond definition. You think he knows it too. Why else does he single you out? Making you literally sweat, taking great pleasure in how you behave and pretending nothing is happening.
What a complete and total jackass! Sometimes you swear he fakes this hard ass persona to look the part. Actually, no he’s built this way. Deviancy does nothing for him!
Collecting yourself is instinct and self preservation kicking in. Nobody in their life will get away with this but he melts your strong core down to a puddle. Limpid steel expunges self control. In front of him you strive to be alert so it's not obvious but there was more warmth underneath his imposing touch than you can stand.
God, he's too good. Flicking eyes down the length of his body drives a surge in your heart, thundering in desperation to current fantasy riding out awake.
Strewn atop table, legs around his waist; ripping open that damn white jacket, digging fingers against defined pecs visibly bursting at the seams through black material, fluffy camouflage to a toned body. Taking you right then and there, moaning his name, sinking fingers into exposed synthetic skin because you want to lay into him as heavily as he lays into you.
Biting of perfectly white teeth, licking languid, sensual from smooth tongue and pounding your body on hard surface, pain thumping against the plane of your back but you beg him for more.
Ravenous, unfiltered and insatiably poetic while he completely ravages whatever is left of you, nearly collapsing the chosen surface of your hungry carnality. Eye witnesses neither ceasing nor distracting from the obvious orgasm you will ride on high in the clouds of your mind.
Breath catches in a mystifying glaze sparkling up to his hard narrowed brow. A daylight delusion swept hold at the least private location for you to be horny.
For a minute you fear he knows what went on in your head. A predatory slit of Nines’ eyes tracks each minute expression, fidget you relay. He resembles an albino king cobra, flaring a shroud to engulf you in his beguiling shadow.
Hammering against ribs betrays you to the point of imagining the entire precinct eavesdropping on the laborious thud. A small inhalation expands his chest one he hardly requires for oxygen but absorbs your arousal. Oh, it’s very obvious. You have a bit of a problem between your legs right now. Fuck.
"Peak performance suggests you not consume more than the recommended dose of caffeine, Detective.”
The android’s voice is deeper, darker than usual. Almost testing, watchful of how your body will respond next. Enough so that a smirk graces the mouth you wish to ascend in prayer to the immediate issue you physically suffer. He will cure such issue predominantly efficient. “Coffee will not help your productivity if you misuse it."
Misuse it, huh? Oh, you’re sure nothing will be of misuse here. Preferably his tongue; you screw up your face to hide the lust.
Why the fuck is he looking like that? Does he realize people will start noticing? Honestly, it’s first time you realize it’s just the two of you in the break room. Guess he scared off your former gossip partner.
"Why do you care what I do anyway?” Seething at his game and the fact you’re turned on at work, you slam a finger into his chest. Stabbing him doesn’t move his perfect posture but it sure does make you ache more. “It's not as if it's worth your time."
Nines’ head cocks to the side marginally amused by this insolence. He finds it cripplingly fascinating on a good day but why voice such trivialities?
“Perhaps if you behave in a professional capacity, Detective Y/L/N?” Leaning in to brush the words beside ear, purposely expelling artificial breath to lick your skin, the android fuses fingers against your hip.
A slow slide kisses beneath the android’s tempting fingertips allowing the hitch of your natural breath fuel his personal stimulus. Aroused by you will not go without discipline. There is only one kind he imagines to have utmost potency and satisfaction.
“Tell me, Y/N,” Nines switches to informalities, dangerously silken. “Do you wish every advanced piece of technology that wanders into the DPD to fuck you? Or is it because I am faster, stronger and more resilient to your needs?”
Gasping is the last vocalization you will give him. Pushing back from you reserves dignity even if you want him to just snag you hard by the hips and throw you down into the evidence room. Quieter, less traffic right now and it’d be a pretty good way to… He just called himself the best and believes it.
Well, it’s true right? No. Fuck his snide self!
You are trying but still…
“Why the hell am I attracted to snarky, stuck up dick faces?!”
Story of your goddamn life apparently and this one is the snarkiest, smuggest, sexy piece of android you’ve had the discomfort and pleasure to meet.
“Get over yourself, Nines!”
Yelling on the way out of the break room only causes looks and you’re sure without turning around he’s still standing there. Tall as hell and making you weak, oh so weak to his stormy sea and he’s already swallowed you up.
Wait until he devours you.
Tag List: @elydith @your-taxidermy
#dbh#rk900 x reader#dbh rk900 x reader#dbh nines x reader#nines x reader#follower/reader appreciation#dbh drabbles#detroit become human#dbh drabble choice#drabble prompt#personal prompts#it's popping off#lets get follower appreciation lit#snarky nines is best nines#oof it's hot here
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Earned It
Word Count: 4,212
Warnings: Sexual Content (18+)
Written By: @justanotherloveaffair
ANYWHERE MASTER POST
Recommended Listening: Earned It x The Weekend
“Whatever you’re thinking about, I want in.”
Chadwick’s intrigue into whatever had his wife’s eyes so unfocused and far away turned into exasperation at her distraction and one-word answers since they sat down to another honeymoon breakfast.
“Co.”
Fingers snapped in front of her face.
“Tasha.”
“Hm?”
Her haste to prove herself present and in the moment made her fumble lowering her fork, causing it to clatter down on her breakfast plate instead. The harsh sound of steel on porcelain only heightened the awkward silence.
Something was distracting her. Since the second she opened her eyes and discovered the rapid heartbeat in her ribcage, her own slick juices leaking onto her bare thigh, and her hips rocking slightly into the mattress while Chadwick slept unaware. Her mind was foggy and blank with confusion until slowly, her dream drifted back in snippets.
The visuals came second to the feeling she remembered experiencing, a feeling of debased, filthy, animalistic desire. Of using and being used. Of opening up to the deepest parts of her cravings, the darkest part of her mind for Chadwick to plunder. She had little sense of the details, only the impression of them and it was enough to make her pull the edge of a pillow between her legs and get off as quickly as possible.
She glanced at Chadwick, still waiting for an explanation, then took a breath and looked her husband unflinchingly in the eyes.
“What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever imagined doing to me?”
Chadwick chewed his bacon and quickly swallowed, while CoCo maintained eye contact over the top of her coffee mug as she took a sip.
“Damn Co, you ain’t playin’ this morning. Lemme think about it. Shit.”
A smile curved her lips while she went for another sip of coffee, enjoying the uncomfortable state she’d put him in. One glance downwards at his growing, visible bulge gave away the filthy visuals he was likely having, making a current of excitement go through her like a shot.
He shifted himself in his shorts, visibly awkward and the arousal CoCo had woken up with only intensified.
“Come on.” She whined.
“You’re puttin me on the spot.”
“Quit stalling.”
They were smiling at each other as CoCo considered him with curious eyes, wondering at what deviousness Chadwick was hiding with his shy glances.
“Alright, don’t hold this against me if it turns you off.”
The anticipation made her want to scream. “Okay,” she nodded quickly, eyes brightly following his.
“Men’s locker room. You’re wearing thigh high socks, with the stripes at the top. I am pounding the shit out of you. In every hole. Multiple times.” He took a breath. “While other guys watch.”
CoCo’s coffee mug slowly lowered to the table. “Damn. That’s … wow. Specific,” she nodded slowly, looking simultaneously impressed and distracted by the image.
“Yeah. Not realistic though. Obviously.”
“I could get some thigh highs when we get back… we could pretend,” she offered, lifting her brows as Chadwick’s hand lowered to his crotch and he groaned in response.
“Really?”
She nodded, popping a slice of pineapple in her mouth, watching him savor the image with his eyes closed.
Chadwick pushed back from the table a little, crumbling his napkin over his now empty plate and peered at her. “I think I know your answer.”
CoCo stiffened with nervous anticipation as the subject came up.
She analyzed his body language, tone, and facial expression, hoping to find a crack in the armor she could chip her way into with her next words. She chose them carefully.
“It’s nothing more than a kink, Aaron. It’s about belonging to you, not being inferior to you. It’s about not being a mother or a wife for a minute and just being your fuck toy instead. I want you to use me not because it’s what you want, but because it’s what I want.”
Her words became passionate as she spoke, surprising even herself at how strongly she felt about it. Her decoding of Chadwick’s face gave her a rush of hope at how closely he was listening, and when she was done, instead of immediately dismissing her, he looked thoughtful, though still skeptical.
“I would just never do anything to make you feel … worthless.”
CoCo reached across the table, holding her hand palm-up and wiggling her fingers until he clasped his hand over hers.
They both smiled when their eyes connected.
“I know, baby.”
Sensing she had said the last word on the subject, she let out a breath and let her eyes wander out over the ocean as they sat in companionable silence, while CoCo’s inner world overflowed with thoughts she couldn’t voice out loud.
After breakfast, a moody silence settled over Chadwick that followed him from the table to the sunbed next to the pool, where he stretched out wearing sunglasses that kept hidden the most expressive and revealing window into his thoughts.
Watching him settle into a quiet and solitary bubble, a little stubborn twinge made CoCo reach for her own sunglasses, thinking, Well, two can play at this game.
She swapped her t-shirt for a white bikini that made Chadwick’s head turn when she wandered past him. She made every step count, rolling her hips and butt in a slow-motion runway walk.
With nothing but her private thoughts keeping her company, she waded in the water that was just cool enough to lower her overheated body temperature. Every so often she would turn and glimpse at him, and for the first time in a long time, she had no idea what he was thinking. His expression was unreadable. Was he watching her? Sleeping?
She imagined herself as nothing more than Chadwick’s viewing entertainment, and for the next hour, let that guide her graceful, seductive movements in and around the pool. After a while, she was sure his eyes were on her. She didn’t have to see them to know they were zeroed in on her tits, and how the wet fabric clung to them, whenever she faced his way. Turning around to look over the ocean, she perched like a mermaid, propped up on her palms, envisioning Chadwick ogling the bikini bottoms stretched over the globes of her ass. The more she performed for him, like a stranger whose attention she was fighting to attain, the more it excited her.
And still, he remained there, laying in the shade. Just watching.
After a while, CoCo climbed out, rivulets of water dripping down her brown skin. In her periphery, she saw his head turn, following her to a sunning chair draped with a big white towel, ready to absorb the pool water. She stretched out over it, gradually straightening the exaggerated arch of her back, and hid a little smile as she glimpsed Chadwick’s throat bobbing with his swallow.
She lifted one leg and stroked her hand over it for no other reason than to titillate. The skin was already dry and hot to the touch. CoCo remembered the bottle of shea and cocoa butter lotion she’d placed nearby the day before and reached for it, while Chadwick’s back straightened a little. Oh, this he was going to enjoy. She would make sure of it.
She spread the lotion liberally onto each hand, smoothing it out over her right thigh first. To get to her lower half, CoCo sat up and not-so-innocently let a bikini strap slip down her shoulder. The back and forth motion of moisturizing her shin and calves caused exposure of everything but her left nipple. Without fixing it, she pumped out more lotion and covered her left leg from foot to hip, rubbing in slow strokes. Now she could see Chadwick’s chest moving with his breathing.
Her stomach was next. The tips of her fingers teased inside the top of her mound, under the bikini and her legs were parted to straddle the chair for maximum impact. CoCo’s fantasies were running wild. She was at a resort with a gorgeous man she’d never seen before, and this was her one shot to entice him. Every movement counted.
After her stomach were her arms. CoCo was saving the best for last. Finally, with a generous amount of lotion she knew would take some time to work in, her hands came to her breasts. By now, the bikini top was hanging half off. She untied it from her neck and let the straps fall.
Both breasts were treated to a luxurious, slow massage. Her mounting excitement made her grind her crotch slightly against the chair, searching for pressure. Every sense was on overload. The scent of the lotion, the touch of her fingers, the heat from the sun. She even forgot Chadwick for a moment in her self-body worship. She felt beautiful, relaxed and without a care in the world.
Finally, across from her: movement. He stood up, slowly, and CoCo saw just what she had done to him through his shorts. A wave of excitement went through her wondering just how he intended to use it. Would he make her beg? Flip her on her knees and plunge inside? Or tap it against her clit and tease her?
For the past hour she had been the one in control as she strutted and teased in front of his eyes. Now, as he began prowling over to her, that control was slipping away. Each step he took dripped with dominance. His face was a blank mask, still half hidden with his glasses and no trace of a smile she could see.
It was natural for CoCo to reach out for him when he got near, and she got a quick, efficient lesson on the nature of this encounter when he pushed her hand off of his leg and scolded her with a stern,
“Uh uh.”
Her fingers curled next to her leg and she bit her lip in response. It was like a different man was standing in front of her.
“Take those glasses off. I wanna see those pretty eyes when I slide my cock down your throat.”
A gasp left her lips as Chadwick slowly peeled the band of his shorts down, making his swollen, massive dick bob in front of her eyes.
She pulled the sunglasses from her face and looked up, the thundering of her heartbeat pumping in her ears as she tried to connect with him, seeing only the reflection of her topless body and innocent expression in his black glasses.
She must have taken far too long because he impatiently took himself in his hand and stepped forward, so he was inches from her lips.
“Well? This is what you wanted, isn’t it, slut? Suck.”
Chills went through her at that word. Slut. She was still reeling from hearing it as her focus suddenly shifted to taking him into her mouth.
Already her excitement was getting the better of her. CoCo’s fingers pressed inside her panties while the other gripped the bottom of Chadwick’s shaft.
“No hands. Only touch me with your mouth… that’s it baby,” he praised as she dropped her hand, knowing he wanted her to work him in as deep as she could without any help.
She couldn’t keep still as her mouth took more and more of him inside, and soon her fingers were squeezing his thigh and then gripping his hip.
This time, they were pulled off with an angry twist, while his other hand forced her mouth off him.
“What part of no hands don’t you understand?”
Peering up at him with tears in her eyes from choking him down her throat, and her left hand buried in her underwear, a guilty look crossed her face and she felt oddly ashamed.
“I’m sorry,” she slowly pulled her fingers out.
“Uh huh,” he growled.
It happened in a flash. CoCo found herself suddenly bound as Chadwick leaned down, ripped the string bikini top right off her body, and captured both her wrists behind her, tying them in a tight knot so fast she could do nothing but stare in shock.
“You wanna use your hands, you have to earn it.”
She nodded absently, everything becoming a blur as hot fire spread in her belly. The thought once again crossed her mind that he was like a stranger, despite the fact they’d been making love for two days straight. Somehow, a flip had been switched.
He nudged against her mouth and this time CoCo’s eyes were on his face as she took him in, stretching her lips and forcing him past the point she was comfortable just to see him lose just a tiny bit of control. Just as she felt him at the back of her throat, he let out a strangled groan and a surge of pride went through her. Tears stinging, fluids everywhere and dripping down into her lap, CoCo didn’t care. She began sucking him for all he was worth. This was how she would break him down.
His grunts and moans of satisfaction were more frequent as she got sloppier and took him deeper. Now she felt his hand at the back of her head, pushing her forward. She called on all of her experience to stay focused and avoid panicking when he went a little too far. The sounds coming from him became louder and more frequent. His dick was twitching in her mouth, wanting to flood her throat. She wanted it too. Her eyes were streaming with tears as he fucked her mouth. She wasn’t going to stop. Not unless….
“Oh no, don’t you fucking do it… god dammit.”
He pried himself away, breaking the string of spit connecting them.
CoCo was heaving, her face a filthy mess of fluid, feeling delighted at his disarray as she stared up into the slight hint of a grin on his face.
“You wanted me to bust down your throat, didn’t you?”
His tone was accusatory but light and she didn’t hold back her smile.
“You’re not getting off that easy… if I let you get off at all.”
Suddenly his presence joined her kneeling body on the chair and there were two fingers pressed inside her walls. She stuttered, moaning and fell towards his body, gasping his name.
The next thing he said made her blood run cold and hot at the same time.
“Who the fuck is Chadwick?”
For a second, CoCo’s soul nearly flew out of her body. She froze, nearly convinced in a moment of total disassociation that she wasn’t who she thought she was, or where she thought she was.
This could be anywhere, he could be anyone. There was no limit but her mind.
“I’ve been watching you,” he continued, voice deep, dark, dangerous in her ear. Close enough she could hear him over her own cries as his fingers plunged inside her heat. “I know you were hoping I’d come fuck you, isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” she cried. Whatever he was doing, he had taken her far beyond any excitement she’d ever felt.
“Teasing me with that body. You knew what you were doing.” He drew out his fingers, displaying them between both of their watching eyes. He rubbed his thumb over his other fingers, showing her the cream covering them. “My little slut is so wet for me,” he breathed slowly in her ear, the low grumble going through her whole body. “Want me to put them back in?”
“Yes,” she sobbed, and hurriedly added in a small voice, “Please.”
CoCo’s body was on fire in every sense of the word. She craved his touch as if she’d never felt it before, especially not as often as she had in the past few days. She would have crossed a river of coals on her hands and knees to have him touching her again.
Even though she was rocking her hips against air, searching for him while her hands tugged against the bikini knot, he lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, “I don’t think you want it enough yet.”
CoCo made a sound of distress somewhere between a cry and a moan, then spat, “Fuck you!”
He laughed a cruel laugh without mirth, the sound shocking her. It was not one she’d ever heard before in all their years together. Looking down at her, he took her chin in his fingers, the same ones that were covered in her juices. CoCo wriggled and struggled with frustration.
“There are so many ways I could punish you for that, but I feel like you’d enjoy them all,” his smile and tone was wry and condescending. CoCo didn’t know who he was anymore. All she knew was she wanted him to fuck the shit out of her or at the very least, touch her right now. She didn’t care how or where, just that his hands and gorgeous mouth were satisfying her in any way he pleased. Every second that went on without it was torture.
“Maybe…” the fingers of his other hand traced down the small of her back, over the swell of her behind. “Maybe I’ll bend you over this chair and fuck you in the ass. Would you like that?”
A shudder of shock went through her and she unintentionally whimpered.
“Nah, maybe not,” he chuckled, his hand still stroking her. “I don’t think you could take me.”
Just when CoCo felt reality slipping away from her, he lifted the sunglasses off of his face. She almost cried at the sight of her husband’s soft brown, beautiful eyes. He didn’t let her enjoy it for too long, immediately gripping her jaw and pulling her against his lips for a punishing, bruising kiss, using more tongue than she was used to from him. CoCo responded like a touch-starved beast.
In the middle of their kiss, his fingers slipped back inside her bikini bottoms and CoCo felt faint with relief as they pushed into her again. She knew she was at his mercy for whatever pleasure he was willing to give her, so she enjoyed every second of it, moaning and rocking her hips with his pace. His hand and her thighs were soaking, she couldn’t remember ever being so wet. He even broke the kiss and swore at how lustily and excitedly she took the stroking of his fingers.
“Look at you, you horny little whore. God damn you’re beautiful baby.”
Caught up in ecstasy, she made a happy sound at his words and he smiled.
“I’m gonna untie you and lay you down. You gonna be a good girl for me and stay still?”
CoCo’s heart soared and she nodded quickly, ready and excited for whatever was coming next. She could barely wipe the smile off of her face as both his arms came around her to undo the strings at her wrists, Chadwick’s lips settling over hers for a sweet kiss that made her heart hammer in her chest.
The ties undone, her hands finally had their freedom but she kept them at her side. She wasn’t going to risk anything that would put a stop to the generous mood he was in.
With just a slight nudge of guidance CoCo was on her back, looking up at the body she loved with all of its gifts she hoped to receive. He kneeled at her side and guided her thighs apart, while she looked adoringly up at him.
“Have you ever squirted before?”
It was CoCo’s turn to be shocked again.
“No…” she knew he knew damn well she never had, and she’d never told him she’d been curious about it. Her eyes went up to his for reassurance as his fingers played with her pussy, inside, outside, rubbing her all over.
“Relax for me,” she heard him say and concentrated on his touch, forcing herself to do as he said. He kept teasing her, slowly stroking in and out.
“Relax and don’t fight it.”
“Okay,” CoCo’s hand couldn’t help crawling into his lap, gripping his thigh as she anticipated whatever was coming next.
She tensed as his fingers suddenly began fucking her deep, pounding her with precise movements and a feeling began building in her that seemed overwhelming. All the muscles in her body tightened and she cried out.
He stopped, pulling his fingers out to stroke her on the outside.
“You have to relax baby, or it won’t happen. Don’t fight.” His voice was soothing and immediately put her at ease. She tried to calm the hammering in her chest and regain her focus, nodding when she was ready.
He slipped back inside and after a breath, began fucking his fingers right into her g-spot at a maddening, intense, almost painful motion that had her tensing again, but she remembered his instruction and forced herself to be calm, needing almost superhuman mental power to do so when all her body wanted to do was fight it.
All through it, he kept going, and her focus was soon rewarded.
An overwhelming feeling, the likes of which she’d never known made CoCo scream to the skies with unimaginable pleasure. An eruption happened in her body and she vaguely heard Chadwick praising her as she screamed so much her voice went hoarse. Sensing something was happening, she opened her eyes and looked down to see Chadwick’s hand covered in her clear come, and underneath her, as she moved her hips, she felt dampness everywhere.
“Did I just….”
“You squirted,” Chadwick grinned with pride. “Absolutely everywhere.”
CoCo’s jaw was hanging open, her mind numb with surprise. “I …. I didn’t even know I could do that. How….” Her words trailed off as her hand touched the soaked bed in disbelief. “Where the hell did you learn to do that and why haven’t we done that before?”
“I have no idea who you are, remember?” Chadwick murmured with half-hearted conviction as they both smiled at each other, neither able to continue the charade.
“You’re fucking unbelievable,” CoCo’s eyes shone with awe.
“C’mere,” Chadwick held out his hands, pulling her off of the thin mattress and easily hoisted her up into his arms. Their gazes glowed with affection for the short walk over to the bed, out of the hot sun.
Chadwick set her down on the cool sheets and the moment he crawled on the bed, CoCo was in his lap, ready to slide onto him right then and there.
“Wait, wait,” he laughed, holding her off until he was in a better position, with his back supported by the pillows and headboard.
She could barely wait and made her frustration known with a whine until he was finally in place.
Not a moment later, he was buried deep inside her, with CoCo gripping the headboard behind him in satisfaction at the perfect feeling. Her heart was so full from everything he’d just given her and she poured herself out into giving it back to him. Even though she was spent and exhausted, she reached deep for that last spark of energy so she could ride him for everything she had.
Her hips bounced up and down, slamming onto him repeatedly while he held on and through it all, their eyes never broke contact. The depth of their connection felt surreal. She slowed down to grind him deep, moving in his lap until his eyes rolled back and he swore.
“I fucking love you Tasha, god damn,” he grinded up into her, circling his hips. “You’re an incredible woman.”
CoCo could do nothing but smile, a sheen of sweat covering her hard-working body.
Suddenly she felt the sheets against her back as he flipped her over. Her arms and legs crossed over his body, pulling him down into her and she sighed welcoming his weight. She knew he was close. He slammed in and out of her soaked pussy, his groans becoming whimpers, his thrusts getting faster and faster. CoCo’s hands were everywhere, her words filthy and encouraging in his ear until his body stuttered and slowed as he gripped her, animal-like groans shaking the air as he shook with pleasure. Her hands soothed up and down his back as the final shivers left him.
CoCo thought to herself that no matter what, for as long as she lived, she would never run out of love or desire for this man.
He fell, drained and weak to her side, and though CoCo was exhausted too, she sprang up at his side almost shaking with excitement like a kid on Christmas morning.
“I can’t believe you made me squirt!”
“I know, I can’t believe it either,” the proud smile returned, lighting up his tired face. “Been wanting to try that for a while.”
CoCo shivered at the thought of him fantasizing about it, wanting to try it and never mentioning it. She was sad it had taken this long, and felt determined to make sure he was never denied anything he wanted again.
She rolled onto him, her eyes as bright and passionate as her words.
“Let’s make a pact. Right here and now. The next time you want something, tell me and let’s do it. We’ll find a way.”
Chadwick’s hand came to CoCo’s cheek, stroking it back and forth as love and adoration bubbled between them.
“Deal.”
___________
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Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Part 4.12
Be aware that this is not a blind playthrough! This will contain spoilers for the entire game, regardless of the part of the game I’m commenting on. A major focus of this commentary is to talk about all of the hints and foreshadowing of events that are going to happen and facts that are going to be revealed in the future of the story. It is emphatically not intended for someone experiencing the game for their first time.
Last time in trial 4 (trial 4!!), Kaito’s increasingly desperate attempts to be helpful were wrong again, Gonta was still trying his hardest in the background to keep up with what was going on, Kokichi would not stop subtly jabbing at Kaito’s jealousy of Shuichi oh my god (and it was great), and Shuichi did indeed singlehandedly save everyone by… taking frustratingly long to figure out the nature of the Virtual World and deducing it all in a backwards order that made no sense.
But he did figure it out in the end, somehow, so we’re starting from the intermission and moving onto discovering who used Miu’s plan against her for murder.
Kaito: “More importantly… let’s continue the conversation where we left off.”
Kaito is once again doing his thing of trying to guide the conversation, getting everyone on the same page and knowing where they’re heading next. It’s the best kind of contributions he can give in trials since he’s not great at the deductions themselves (and since Shuichi apparently doesn’t need his encouragement any more). Even though he’s also been trying too hard to prove he totally is good at deductions this trial, at least he still realises he can do this.
Kokichi: “And in order to figure that out, we need to understand Miu’s actions… So, let’s discuss her murder scheme step-by-step!”
Kaito: “I know that’s important, but hearing you lead the conversation really pisses me off.”
…But then Kokichi happens to be trying to even take that away from Kaito here, and is doing it better than him because he’s mentioning more specific things that they need to discuss, and Kaito is Not Happy about that.
(I imagine it would also bother Kaito a little bit if Shuichi were the one to be leading the conversation here, but there’s no way he would ever admit to that. At least Kokichi is a target at which he can openly vent his frustrations about everything he’s been made to feel lately.)
Kokichi: “Let’s see, Miu manipulated the Virtual World to use it as part of her murder plan…”
Kaito: “Don’t just ignore me and start anyway…”
Kokichi: “If she had succeeded, she would’ve gone past the wall between the chapel and the mansion…”
And then Kokichi knows exactly how to continue to get under Kaito’s skin – by completely ignoring him like he’s insignificant. All of the times he did the thing by praising Shuichi while not even mentioning Kaito at all were perhaps arguably a better way of doing so than the times he did mention Kaito – because Kaito is so unimportant that he’s not even worthy of mention, right?
Kokichi: “…Then secretly passed through the wall she installed and took advantage of the loop. […] Oh yeah… Kaito was probably logged out around that time, too.”
If Miu had any sense, she’d have logged Kaito out before walking through the wall to remove the chance of him seeing her on the mansion side. (Especially since she did end up getting seen on that side by Tsumugi and, as it turns out, also Gonta.)
Himiko: “She was smart… But she was also really, really dumb.”
This is a very good way of summing it up. Miu had the creative, technological kind of smarts to make inventions and come up with this plan, sure, but in almost every other way she was a gigantic idiot. Especially when it came to interpersonal intelligence. All of the mistakes that led to her plan failing, or to the fact that she would inevitably have been found out even if she’d succeeded in killing Kokichi, were down to her massively misunderstanding the people involved. She was completely oblivious to the fact that obviously Kokichi never really trusted her enough to walk into her trap, and that obviously Kaito is not the sort of person to commit murder and no-one would be willing to believe that, and that obviously Shuichi was going to figure out everything in the trial especially if the scapegoat was Kaito.
Gonta: “N-No say such mean things. Killing game bad, not Miu. Miu not bad person. Gonta think we coulda been friends, if things different.”
Aww, Gonta. I get what he’s trying to say – it was only the killing game that drove Miu to murder and she wasn’t inherently a bad person. But she was still incredibly self-absorbed and unpleasant to be around and nobody would have wanted to be around her if they weren’t trapped in a school with her. Sorry, Gonta.
Kaito: “But how did the culprit send Miu’s avatar through the wall? I mean, it’s not like they coulda thrown her.”
Gonta: “Gonta not throw her!”
It’s okay, Gonta, nobody is around any more to be a dick about you throwing dead bodies just because you’re strong, you don’t need to jump to defend yourself on that matter.
(…even though it… actually is pretty close to what happened.)
Gonta: “Physical strength… equalized? That problem! Gonta no can protect everyone if that happens!”
Another big hint at what’s really going on. He had pretty much this exact reaction in the Virtual World when he first heard about this, and yet here he is, having it again as if he’s only just hearing this now for the first time. Gonta may be slow to pick up on things, but he’s not forgetful like this.
Himiko: “Geez, keep up with us.”
But everyone else basically is just putting a blanket judgement of “stupid” on Gonta and assuming that justifies him being forgetful too.
Shuichi: “I think the sound came from Miu’s avatar hitting the chapel wall… The hammer, cell phone and lattice were there, but they were too small to make that noise.”
This is Shuichi’s answer to a multiple choice question in which you’re meant to state which out of Miu or the three objects around her hit the wall to make the loud sound. Which is pretty silly, because all four of those things hit the wall; does it really matter which of them was the one that was big enough to make a noise when it did so?
Kokichi: “But why did it hit the wall with such force? Can you guys figure it out?”
Kaito: “Hold on, Kokichi. What’s up with the way you’re talkin’? Why are you talking like you know everything?”
Kaito’s intuition strikes again! …Okay, to be fair, in this particular instance it definitely does not take an Official Luminary of the Stars Hunch™ to realise that Kokichi has clearly been talking like he already knows exactly what happened (and Gonta also noticed a similar thing from Kokichi last post), but still, this is Kaito doing one of the things he does best in trials and it deserves to be pointed out.
Kokichi: “More importantly, we gotta solve the mystery! Fighting among friends is a waste of time.”
Kaito: “‘Friends’? Us?”
And this is Kokichi doing his usual shtick of giving empty words about teamwork and co-operation to try and make everyone else’s words along similar lines sound just as empty.
Honestly, Kokichi, you had an opportunity right there to yet again make a point of how only Shuichi can solve this mystery, and you didn’t? At least jabbing at Kaito’s jealousy is a recent thing that makes a refreshing change from what you’ve been doing non-stop for the previous three chapters, come on.
Kokichi: “Hey, Shuichi… As your partner, I’ll give you a little hint.”
Shuichi: “…You’ll what?”
Kokichi: “Since the mansion was on top of a hill, the roof was pretty high up, right? Past the brick handrail, the roof was at a pretty steep slope. And the slope faced the chapel wall. On top of that, there was snow on the roof. If the culprit needed force to move the body, I wonder how they did it?”
That’s barely a “hint” so much as it’s just a lengthy description of the roof, including the brick handrail that Kokichi couldn’t possibly have seen unless he’d been there, thus proving his earlier claim of not having gone there to be a lie. Which, considering Shuichi has perfectly well seen the roof himself and doesn’t need this description, really seems more to me like Kokichi is deliberately trying to give Shuichi the ammo to prove that he’s been up there.
(also, again, fuck off Kokichi, “partners” don’t withhold the things they know like this. What you’re doing with Shuichi right now is not “working together” with him, it’s patronising him.)
Shuichi: (Kokichi’s talking as if he’s got the whole thing figured out already… But I can’t let him distract me. I need to solve this case.)
That’s not a “distraction”, Shuichi! Kokichi’s jabs at Kaito last time were one thing, but the fact that Kokichi clearly already knows how the body was moved is a meaningful point related to the case that should be included in your deductions and not just disregarded! Turn down that Ultimate Detective tunnel vision just a little.
Kaito: “Nah, man. Even with the slope and the snow, Miu’s body wouldn’t have slid—”
Kokichi: “Wrong. It would slide.”
Kaito tries contributing an actual idea again – one which is perfectly reasonable given that he hasn’t figured out there was anything that could have been used as a sled – and Kokichi just immediately cuts him off and tells him he’s wrong without actually telling him why. (Because he’s leaving the “why” part for Shuichi to figure out.)
Kokichi: “Non, non! It would slide!”
Kaito: “It wouldn’t slide! Just like Maki Roll said!”
Kokichi: “It would slide! Just like Shumai said!”
Children. Calm down.
Gonta: “Lots of snow piled up on roof… but not frozen solid, right?”
(Gonta is still trying to make sure he’s got a good mental image of everything they’re talking about so that he can help!)
Kokichi: “You just need a sled or skis to cut the friction!”
Kaito: “There was nothing like that around, though!”
Kaito Refutations: 3!
It’s pretty notable here that the game makes you refute Kaito and not agree with Kokichi when it would also have made perfect sense to put an agree spot on Kokichi’s statement there. The writers don’t just want to make this part about Shuichi having to seemingly be on Kokichi’s side, they want to make it about him seemingly not being on Kaito’s side as well.
It’s also�� questionable that Kaito makes this claim in the first place. He searched the rooftop before the murder and then investigated the chapel after; he should know that the lattice was there. Clearly he never figured it was used as a sled during the investigation, but it shouldn’t be too hard to piece it together now. So apparently Kaito doesn’t want to try and piece it together because he’s annoyed at Kokichi having butted in and called him wrong and argued with him about this and he just wants to be right about something for once, dammit.
Kokichi is still not praising Shuichi about how brilliant he is for having figured out the sled thing and I am very disappointed in him. Or rather, I’m disappointed in the out-universe writers for not continuing with the subtle jabbing at Kaito’s issues that I was greatly enjoying last time and see no reason not to continue with here. Especially since this time Shuichi figured out the truth while directly refuting Kaito! That’d be the perfect opportunity for it!
Not that Kokichi hasn’t still been getting under Kaito’s skin plenty in other ways, but, like, The Thing! I miss The Thing and its delightful subtlety.
Kokichi: “Also, I never went to the roof, not even for the meeting.”
…
Kokichi: “It all began when Miu showed us the map.”
…
Kokichi: “That’s probably what happened. The culprit killed her on the locked roof.”
The game makes you do a Mind Mine to select which of these three past statements of Kokichi’s was a lie. For one thing, this is a really weird excuse for a Mind Mine because that’s supposed to be about images, but the much sillier thing about it is the three statements it makes you choose from. The two incorrect options here are just Kokichi stating assumptions about what happened in the case and therefore can’t even be lies. Only one of them is an actual testimony about something he did that he therefore could have lied about! It could kind of be a fun puzzle to be shown multiple statements Kokichi made about his actions and have to figure out which one of them you can prove to be a lie. But the way this is, you don’t even need to remember the information that proves he did go to the roof in order to know that that’s the only statement that can even be false.
(also noooo Mind Mine has four colours now; I get really addicted to the version in the casino with only three colours, but the hardest difficulty adds a fourth colour which makes it way too easy to mess up and therefore not as fun any more. Not that the trial version is as fun anyway since you can just break the single pieces which means there’s no incentive to think about things, but.)
So anyway, Kokichi’s lengthy description of the roof, particularly the part about the brick handrail, is what proves he was lying about never going there.
Kokichi: “I-I-I… d-didn’t… I already t-told you that b-before…”
Gonta: “Why you look so nervous?”
Keebo: “Is this a sincere reaction?”
It’s not, of course. But the thing is, Kokichi has never had this specific kind of reaction before, so it actually seems a little bit more plausible than it usually does that this could be genuine and this is what he sounds like when he’s truly been caught out. What I would want to say Kokichi is doing here is that he’s trying to make it seem like he genuinely has been caught out – because if he really wanted the mercy kill outcome, then the best way to do so would be to have everyone eventually decide he did it, but for him to put up enough resistance to it that it seems like this isn’t the outcome he wants.
Of course, since Kokichi really doesn’t want the mercy kill outcome at all because he’s been gradually sabotaging it this whole time by being helpful and is shortly going to completely shatter it with his own two hands, I don’t quite understand why he’s bothering to act this way. For fun, I guess.
Kokichi: “Oh, wait! I remember now! That thing Himiko said!”
Himiko: “Nyeh!? M-Me!?”
Kokichi: “At the start of the class trial, I remember you saying the handrail was made of bricks.”
To anyone who’s uncertain, nope, Himiko very definitely didn’t say that. I’d have pointed it out if it’d been there.
Kokichi: “Gotta be more careful there, Himiko!”
Himiko: “I-Is it my fault…?”
No, Himiko, because you didn’t say it! Stand up for your own actions more! Be more sure of yourself!
Gonta: “Himiko really say that?”
But here’s Gonta – who’s the worst at being sure of himself and would definitely have doubted his own actions if he’d been the one in Himiko’s position right now – being pretty damn sure she didn’t say that. Like I’ve been saying, he’s confused as hell about the Virtual World, but he’s still been paying attention to everyone around him. And especially because his only source of information for what the Virtual World is like has been the descriptions people have given of it, he would know that he didn’t picture that roof as having a brick handrail until Kokichi said so.
Kokichi: “She tooootally said that!”
Kaito: “No she didn’t!”
Kokichi: “Yes, she did!”
Kaito: “She did not!”
Kokichi: “She did too!”
Kaito: “Then when!? Tell me how long ago! In hours, minutes and seconds!”
Whoa, geez, again, children. Kaito just really wants to be right about something – which he is this time, but unfortunately this one is basically impossible to conclusively prove.
(I suppose Keebo’s recording function wouldn’t help much either, because to prove Himiko didn’t say a thing would require listening to the entire trial up to this point.)
Maki: “How much longer are you going to behave like this?”
And in comes the Ultimate Child Caregiver to break up the argument. Seems appropriate.
Shuichi starts to think as if this isn’t enough to prove that Kokichi went to the roof, but the thing is, it kind of is. This isn’t like an Ace Attorney trial where conclusive evidence is necessary. The only thing that’s necessary here is to convince everyone else – and everyone else is pretty damn sure that Himiko did not say that and Kokichi is lying through his teeth right now. No matter how stubborn Kokichi decides to be, it won’t change that fact. If he wanted, Shuichi could just continue the discussion all like, “Okay, so we all agree Kokichi went to the roof, right? Which means…” and completely ignore Kokichi’s obviously-lying protests that he didn’t, and there’d be nothing Kokichi could do to stop them.
Shuichi: (But if he’s being this stubborn, it makes me think he has something to hide. To get him to show his hand, I have to prove he was on the roof.)
This reasoning does kind of make sense, though. Shuichi wants Kokichi to tell everyone whatever it is that he’s hiding instead of having to painstakingly try and figure it out himself (which he could still do, if he thought about it and realised that oh wait, Kokichi couldn’t physically touch Miu could he). So he wants to force Kokichi out of the “la la la I can’t hear you” state he’s in and get him to stop messing around.
Kaito: “I’ve had enough of your lies, man!”
Kokichi: “I’m not lying!”
“Are you done arguing yet?”
Heh, Maki’s still trying to play child caregiver here.
Kokichi: “I didn’t go to the roof!”
“Just fess up already!”
…
Kokichi: “The rooftop door was locked and I couldn’t open it!”
“That’s enough lies!”
And Kaito is still furiously trying to get Kokichi to confess even in the white noise.
(Trying to get Kokichi to confess is also Shuichi’s goal during this debate – he just has a rather cleverer way of going about it than simply yelling at him and hoping it’ll work.)
Kaito: “Liars burn in hell, y’know?”
Kaito. Calm down and think for a second about what you’re saying there.
His thing two parts ago in which he denounced specific kinds of lies that Kokichi tells was not that hypocritical, because Kaito genuinely never tells the kind of lie he was talking about there. But this is just referring to any lying, and… yeah, you’ve been telling a few lies of your own lately, Kaito. Not to mention the lie he and Shuichi told to protect Maki back in trial 2.
(Still, he’s saying this here because he’s riled up. This is very much not a properly-thought-out statement of his principles.)
Shuichi lies about having been to the salon and not seen Kokichi in there, which kiiiinda begs the usual “why didn’t you mention this sooner” question that a lot of this game’s required lies have. No-one points that out, though.
Kokichi: “I see… You use underhanded tactics too. Huh, Shuichi?”
Kokichi, you are the one who was baiting him into lying about this when you discussed during the investigation how there were no witnesses to prove you were or weren’t in the salon. You have no right to be calling him out on doing exactly what you wanted him to do.
Kokichi: “So, who are you guys gonna believe? Shuichi… or me?”
This is a misleading false dichotomy. He’s presenting it like one of the two of them must be telling the truth and that therefore if Shuichi is lying that means Kokichi definitely isn’t, which of course is not the case.
Kaito: “Well of course I’m gonna believe Shuichi!”
Keebo: “I believe Shuichi 100%!”
Maki: “The one who’s not Kokichi.”
I love Maki’s response here. To everyone else, it’s more about how much they believe in Shuichi, but Maki, while she of course does also believe in Shuichi, doesn’t care that it’s specifically him and would rather make a point of how she’d believe anyone over Kokichi. Maki is so blunt and it’s great.
Tsumugi: “But to go to the salon, Shuichi would need to pass by me in the dining room… Umm… I wonder why I didn’t notice Shuichi there…”
Shuichi: “…”
Tsumugi: “Oh well. I’ll believe Shuichi anyway. He’s usually right about stuff.”
And here’s a delightful little hint towards the mastermind’s identity! Tsumugi is only pretending to be confused and vague and really knows full well that Shuichi must be lying. She lets it slide because this situation that’s playing out is an interesting story, and she’d rather see where it goes than just cut Shuichi off and go back to the stalemate things were at before.
I actually caught on my first time through just how suspicious Tsumugi is acting here – there’s something different about her voice that made me suddenly feel, at least in this moment, that her vagueness was just an act and she was a lot more cunning than she seemed. Even if she is genuinely just doing this because she knows Shuichi is onto something and doesn’t want to get in the way, her going about it this underhandedly reveals a side to her that’s completely different from the person she usually seems to be.
At the time, though, I just thought this was a hint that she’d killed Miu (my brain went on to make up something about how the sled had a delayed-release mechanism so she could fake her alibi with Shuichi, despite there being zero evidence for such a thing). When this case was over and that was wrong I temporarily forgot about this bit and only remembered again during chapter 6 once I realised she was in fact the mastermind, but I am still proud of myself for sort of noticing it here.
Also, this behaviour from Tsumugi is in fact very Kokichi-like. The whole “that’s weird but I guess Shuichi wouldn’t lie to us right” with the subtext of “I totally know you’re lying and just don’t want to bring it up” is precisely the kind of thing Kokichi has done multiple times. You’d think that if anyone could pick up on this clue to the mastermind’s identity, it’d be Kokichi. If he truly cared about figuring out who the mastermind is, I feel like he’d be paying enough attention to the others’ behaviour to notice this. But apparently not; he’s too wrapped up in his own plan which doesn’t actually require him to know who the mastermind is in order to “defeat” them.
Gonta: “Sorry, but… Gonta believe Shuichi, too.”
Kokichi: “Ah, I see… I wanted at least Gonta to believe me…”
I went over this before when a similar thing happened: this is Kokichi hinting at him and Gonta being in on this together, but if Gonta really did remember then it would help their cause for him to act like he thinks Kokichi did it. Stop being an unnecessary dick, Kokichi, that’s all you’re doing here.
Kokichi: “Why do you guys hate lies that much?”
…Nobody ever really said they did. Nobody other than Kaito, who hates a specific flavour of lying and has already made his stance on that apparent – but he clearly doesn’t hate all kinds of lies, for obvious reasons. The other people Kokichi is saying this to include Shuichi, who has lied multiple times to try and reach the truth and Kokichi has been aware of every instance of that, Maki, who lied about her talent in order to protect herself, and Himiko, whose entire talent involves lying to make things more entertaining and fun for people. (And Tsumugi, who is constantly lying through her teeth, but that one Kokichi isn’t aware of.)
Kokichi: “There’s only one truth, but endless possibilities for lies, y’know?”
So here he’s basically trying to say that the infinite possibilities of lies are more interesting and fun than the singular truth, and I can see where he’s coming from, since that’s the point of fiction. But that kind of lie is harmless because people know they’re really lies and just choose to pretend to believe and invest in them anyway because that’s more fun. That’s why Himiko keeps insisting her magic is real. That’s why Kaito pretends his childhood games were real, and why he wanted to buy into Himiko’s magic – until people’s lives started riding on knowing the truth, that is.
Kokichi: “And some of them are only white lies, or lies to be kind to people…”
Like the lies Kaito has been telling to hide his illness. Like the lies Shuichi has told in trials to protect innocent people and reach the truth.
(Also, remember Kokichi insisting back in trial 3 that you never know how malicious people’s reasons for having secrets could be and so you might as well just assume everyone’s malicious? Does he really believe it’s possible for others to lie for a good reason, or is he just saying that to justify his own constant lying?)
Kokichi: “If you deny all of that *just* because it’s a lie…”
No-one ever did. All they’re denying is your lie right now about not going to the roof, because it’s getting in the way of reaching the goddamn truth and letting all but one of us not freaking die.
Kokichi: “Then that means you guys are just terrible at being lied to! Seriously, the worst!”
Kokichi’s putting on an evil face here, like suddenly he’s happy that everyone doesn’t like lies because this lets him trick them more. Remember the most recent Monokuma Theater about how liars supposedly keep encouraging honesty so there’ll be more gullible honest people they can deceive? This kind of reminds me of that.
This is Kokichi backpedalling as usual. His speech up to this point was acting like he was upset at people hating lies (even though nobody does and he was really just throwing a tantrum because they’re refusing to believe his one extremely obstructive lie here), but now he’s turning around and claiming that actually this is fine, he’s not upset about anything at all and never was!
Kokichi: “Okay, fine! I’ll tell you if you wanna know that badly. Consider this my revenge.”
Gonta: “Revenge?”
Yeah, revenge. Aside from his massive trust issues and pathological conviction that everyone is secretly a terrible person, the other force that drives most of Kokichi’s actions in this story is his desire for petty, vindictive revenge against people he feels have wronged him in some way. That’s why he’s doing this entire elaborate scheme to eventually try and beat Monokuma at his own game, which getting Miu and Gonta killed here is only the first step in.
Kokichi: “You got some balls lying to me. I’m gonna take away your fun for pissing me off, Shuichi. I won’t let you do any detective work, or deduction, or mystery solving, or anything!”
Shuichi was never here to have fun, you moron. He doesn’t care if you solve the mystery for him just so long as it’s the truth and therefore the maximum number of people can survive. You already know that he only cares about saving everyone; you’ve mentioned it before! (But of course everything’s got to be about fun, because Kokichi is obsessed with how much fun he’s very definitely totally having with this, so that must be the first thing on everyone else’s mind too, right?)
It’s also ridiculously hypocritical of him that he’s so annoyed at Shuichi lying to him. When that’s what Kokichi does all the time. When he was just claiming that lies aren’t inherently bad if they’re told for good reasons. When during previous trials he’s tried to insist that the lies he told would help to find the culprit (even though they didn’t and Shuichi is better at using lies to reach the truth than Kokichi has ever been).
But it’s not all that surprising, because it’s been a recurring idea a few times that Kokichi can’t take what he dishes out – that things are all good when he’s doing something to other people, but when someone does the same thing to him, it’s suddenly not “fun” any more. His reaction when Gonta turned the bugs against him during the Insect Meet and Greet comes to mind, for example.
So Kokichi confesses to his plan to sabotage Miu’s murder plot with his own, including his co-operation with Monokuma. It would have been appropriate if this had been the moment where Monokuma dropped the weird pretending-to-be-depressed thing he’d been doing for the first half of this trial (or, at least, it’d have made it seem like there was some actual point to that being a thing in the first place)… but actually it’s not, because he dropped that act a little earlier for the sake of doing a pointless non-sequitur bit about Sonic the Hedgehog of all things. Why.
Monokuma: “Kokichi and I had a “quid pro quo” relationship. Technically, that doesn’t violate the rules!”
Indeed, it doesn’t. The rules only state Monokuma can’t directly participate in a murder, but all he was doing here was essentially redoing this chapter’s motive presentation in a way more likely to make an interesting story, based on Kokichi’s suggestion. It could be argued that it’s unfair for him to present a motive in a way that clearly favours a specific person becoming blackened as a result – but all of the motives have done that.
Kokichi: “I told you, I’m gonna get in the way by taking away the mystery-solving fun. If I can’t win this game, then I’ll make it boring for everyone! That’s my revenge!”
Yeah, except the only people who are having fun solving the mystery right now are the audience. If you wanted to take away their fun (and they really, really should be your targets for revenge right now), then you could have, I don’t know, not created a fun mystery for them to solve in the first place? Revealing the truth here may cut short the mystery-solving, but it still gives the audience an interesting story. Nothing about what’s about to happen from here is in any way boring.
In fact, the most boring outcome possible as things stand is probably for Kokichi to insist that he did it and then for everyone except Gonta to get abruptly executed, possibly without anyone ever understanding why. That’d be a hell of a frustrating rocks-fall-(nearly)-everybody-dies ending for the audience.
(Still, while he’s going about it in a terrible way, note his focus on revenge again. That’s a major thing for him.)
Kokichi: “Well, then… The culprit is Gonta.”
So… Kokichi doesn’t want the mercy kill outcome, right? That should be self-evident, right?
If I were writing this commentary in a vacuum and had never seen any of the fandom’s thoughts on Kokichi, then I wouldn’t have even been mentioning this as we went along because it shouldn’t even be worthy of dispute, purely because of this line here. There are plenty of other parts that also support this, some of which I’ve mentioned as this case went along (he’s been deliberately leading Shuichi to the truth this whole time), some of which I brought up back when he saw the outside world (he knows it’s all a lie), and some of which will come up later. But regardless of all the other evidence, this moment alone should be more than enough to confirm it. Yet apparently there are a reasonable number of people who genuinely believe Kokichi actually wanted the mercy kill outcome, and I just… ??????????
(To be completely clear, I’m not at all upset at anyone who thinks that, just… extremely confused. I understand the desire to believe it, because it would be a pretty interesting story, but it is very clearly not the story we have here.)
I admittedly haven’t delved too deep into trying to find people’s reasons for thinking this, but there’s one argument I have seen attempting to justify this moment here. The argument is that Kokichi genuinely wanted the mercy kill up until this point, and then this was him realising that oh no, looks like it’s never going to work and Shuichi is definitely going to find the truth no matter what he does, so he might as well bail on it and move onto Plan B of pretending he’s evil so he can pretend to be the mastermind.
But if Kokichi really was going to feel and act that way, this wouldn’t be the moment to do it. Shuichi is not at all close to finding the truth right now – currently he’s zeroing in on the idea that Kokichi did it, which would be good for the plan. It’s still possible that at some point down the line Shuichi will figure out Kokichi couldn’t have murdered Miu and then use a process of elimination to point to Gonta, but that hasn’t even begun to happen yet! Now is not even remotely the time to give up! If Kokichi really, genuinely cared about protecting everyone from the despairing truth, like Gonta did so badly that he was driven to murder despite being the sweetest loveliest person ever, then there is no way he would ever give up this easily. Anyone who truly cared about this would keep on fighting for that outcome with everything they had until the last possible moment, because even the tiniest chance of success is better than the alternative.
So basically, if one does decide to take the interpretation that Kokichi cares about mercy-killing everyone to save them from the despairing truth, then he is also evidently absolutely terrible at actually following through on that desire to save everyone, because this would be him giving up not even at the first hurdle but before he’s really reached any hurdles at all.
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14x01: watching notes / mini meta
This episode is just like one long tick list of previous meta and I love it even if the actual ep itself was slightly bland with a few niggles, the thematics are so exciting for what it means for the show overall and the characters we love. Here’s my watching notes / mini meta short versions of the themes, (previous longer meta’s on each theme are linked with x or underlined sentences). Here we go!
I called the Angel wings, yay!
Opening song: shot down in flames by AC/DC. A song about unrequieted romantic feelings. Lmao. OK, good start...
- Dean screaming at Sam “all I see is everything we’ve lost” - cuts to just Cas dying. OK. Thanks for clarifying that meta from last year up for us Dabb ;)
- That freeze frame tho. Even shortened it’s still terrible. Stawp.
- Cut to Sam in the car, this is like the one with Rowena where it went from the opening song to her in the car and I love it, please do more. Oh, bonus if we can get one where Dean does it and he looks at the camera like he’s on the office and switches it from something rocky to, like, Miley Cyrus :p
- The point of the Jamil scene, whilst in itself it is divisive and has offended some viewers (and I do not condone that but I write meta so here is the meta), was clear re: Michael. Showing that Michael essentially is that asshole who doesn’t care how much you redeemed yourself and now are trying to do good but says you want selfish things and remembers that one time you did something wrong 8 years ago and won’t let you get past it. He also enjoys putting words in others’ mouths and judging them from above because he somehow thinks he is some all knowing, all judging clever clogs (and better than Gabriel, pfft he doesn’t even know our Gabriel but just assumes he’s better, ok then...). He’s a self absorbed, self assured, arrogant, genocidal, doesn’t give a shit about humanity wanker with a chip on his shoulder having inherited some power from his daddy he doesn’t know what to do with and has only shown so far that he can balls it up royally but somehow thinks this time, this time it'll work cos he’s oh so intelligent and right. Oh look, Michael is Trump.
- “A better world”. Well I’ve talked about that a lot previously, how this links to the other extreme end of the MoL, essentially we have the MoL at one end telling us the world can only be better if you remove anything supernatural and Michael at the other saying it can only be better if you remove anything natural. Longer meta on these and how they also link to John and the season 1 onwards black/white to grey area progression here: x and x
Dabb is really hammering home the grey area / balance themes in the middle for endgame and I love him for it.
- DEAD MANS BLOOD BULLETS what a great idea! I’ve not seen anyone comment on this yet but honestly, this is up there with salt hoolahoops and exorcisms saved on your phone ;)
- Sam “chief” Winchester. I’m living. I mean let the dude take a nap but the concept and symbolism of him as the leader, taking charge of the hunters and the bunker, Mary as his lieutenant, everyone looking up to him with respect because of what he has done and who he is rather than out of fear or duty... I can’t express just how much I love this and am grateful it’s as blatant as it is.
- Castiel gets kidnapped and used as “bait” (yes there’s like 5 layers of symbolism here and I hate/love it) and the whole thing with Sam telling them there’ll be no king of Hell goes down in Detroit. Yeah sure tell me Dabb doesn’t care about mirrors and previous canon references, parallels and subversions ;)
- I just can’t even with Sassy!Cas *rolls eyes* *uses “GOD” as a blatant blasphemy* is just so human, being so done when Kip makes his stupid OTT grand entrance whilst Cas is calmly sat in front of the fire pit and then tells him he’ll burn him to ash. YES MY SON.
- “Joined at the... (Dick)”. Yes Kip I get you, everyone does, literally everyone thinks they’re boning, cos duh, but you see they could actually have an ounce of happiness within the chaos if they weren’t so bloody miscommunicative and self hating that they haven’t even admitted their feelings let alone touched each other yet below the shoulder. But yes, please, do join the hoards of characters on the show who assume they are a couple.
*Tink stares into the camera*
- The less said about Michael’s puny ass winged ‘twuform’ the better. Yes it looks like a pigeon with disproportionally tiny wings, yes it looks like Dean bent his halo (lolz) but aside from the humour there’s nothing good about this.
- Michael: Dean said yes for love. Ah yes. The power of love. I love to be reminded that this whole show’s premise since the pilot is love. Thanks Satan.
- Michael thinks Anael is everything Cas is. “The rebel, the Angel who doesn’t like playing by Heaven’s rules” I mean jeez, like a hammer to the face much! Well, Danneel said she did want to play Castiel so ;) x and x
- Tbh I also got massive self reflection vibes here off the next part on performing!Dean and I just love how all this comes out of Dean’s own mouth, it’s just so symbolic. Every time Michael says something it seems to be a reflection on John or Dean or daddy issues of some sort.
Re: Performing!Dean: “You pretend to care about these things... pretty things, but that’s all it is, pretending. These trinkets, they don’t make you happy they just pass the time, they’re not what you really want”. *Tink stares at all of the meta on Performing!Dean repression by overcompensating, especially with sex to pass the time and try to alleviate his mood with women, especially since season 7, every time Cas is gone and he’s pining*.
- What do you really want? This basically works for both Dean and Cas (and Sam too to be fair but he’s not been mirrored previously so I’m going with the symbolism here being most relevant to Cas mirror Anael and Dean whose literally saying it through a veil): “love, to belong, to have a place a home a family... it’s very very human”.
- *Cough* blatant easy link and exposition of endgame Human!Cas and Nonperforming!Dean. *sends Dabb a giant fruit and donut basket*
- Cleary the theme of season 14 is “what do you want” just as season 13′s was “who are you”. Excellently linked themes.
- Sam is just going around all episode fixing other peoples issues and taking no time for himself, he needs a friend and a nap.
- Jack is actually not doing badly considering and I’m so happy they made him sad and angsty without being an annoying whiney teenager (I do have an issue with how Claire was made into this and am annoyed with the m/f difference but sigh, clearly they were trying to do something better with WS. Sigh again).
- I actually kinda loved the Sam / Nick scene. Since it was clear Mark P was coming back (literally why Satan) I made peace with it and expected Nick and I hope they continue with it as well as I think it started. Mark’s little gestures of itching and wincing really helped with the overall feel here so through gritted teeth I say kudos. Jared steals the show though at his own minute facial expressions and the deep meaning of this scene for him, I’m sure he enjoyed acting this immensely as he’s always cared a lot for the Sam/Lucifer storyline and it’s closure. Obviously it’s got implications for Michael!Dean so let’s see what happens. Sam was amazing obviously, man, I just... really hope Bucklemming don’t fuck this up as Nick’s likely their play thing. Fingers crossed, it’s off to a good start.
- If they really do follow through on this really cack-handed obvious “we can kill Michael by stabbing Dean and save Dean” story then I’ll be really fucking disappointed. This is lazy and too obvious, it also negates all the possibility for the Dean/John mirror from 2x01 with John angry at them for not killing him to kill Azazel and thus leading into Dean’s blatantly exposed self worth arc throughout the season while he struggles to feel worthy of being alive at the potential expense of the world, with his family telling him he does deserve to be saved (>...>). I mean... I just can’t really get my head around this not happening? Or it being so frankly badly written if it is? It feels more like a red herring to me, like, a giant red herring. If it doesn’t happen like this and they just stab Michael with the shittyretconblade then I’ll be shocked. Though I’ll be less shocked if it’s in the Bucklemming episode and I’ll attribute this to their shitty writing and Dabb really having zero fucking says in his own show anymore and the whole thing going downhill moving forwards. So either way it’s bad. So fingers, toes and everything crossed this isn’t what happens.
- The fact that Cas knew Sam would come save him gives me so many happy feels whereas I feel only a few seasons ago he would have said he’s not worth saving / why would Sam bother. He trusts Sam and he believes Sam loves him. Happy Tink.
- “He just told you he’s a demon?” “Yep”. I love Sassy! Sam.
- Bait. It’s kind of what you’re for isn’t it? I just... That was so hilariously triple, quadruple, whatever, entendre... bait for the audience, bait for the Winchesters, bait associated with fish as Castiel usually is, just, it made me laugh out loud and @bluestar86 looked at me like I’d gone nuts but I loved the cleverness of it. Though also fuck you Cas is more than bait ;) I mean Dabb knows that he loves Cas he’s being tongue in cheek but yeah, this made me chuckle big time.
- Michael has been to see Kip and it again hopefully will be a continuation of the theme of Michael being so black and white he turns grey people black or white. I’d love to see an opposite where his asking this question of what do you want actually makes someone choose to do the right thing.
- Mary “I have to think about the good Sam, because if I don’t I’ll just drown in the bad, for Dean’s sake I can’t do that, we can’t do that”. Wow. Mary ploughing on, seemingly cold to others until she’s probed, revealing her internal emotional struggle, forever threatening to overflow and the actual drive for her actions that in full circle are what makes her come across as uncaring. If this isn’t Mary’s whole arc since her resurrection in one sentence. If it ain’t also a massive TFW mirror. IN ONE SENTENCE. GOD I LOVE ANDREW DABB OK?!
- Bobby re-emphasising the family theme to Jack in the impala, reminiscent of Jack telling the Winchester’s they are his family in the impala last season.
- Equating Sam to Beyoncé for his glorious physique, hair and overall legend / icon status is just A. Brilliantly hilarious and reminding us how great Sam is but also B. So cool to give zero shits that Beyoncé is a woman and is just as capable of being a role model for a guy. Kudos Dabb. C. I just imagine Cas looking on like but I’m Beyoncé! ;)
- The fight scene is just too embarrassing, that knife flip between Mary and Sam is so 80’s bionic man and more wires like, my dudes, my guys, stawwwwwwp. I’m also annoyed tbh that Maggie is for some reason a young, relatively helpless and hapless girl rather than being an AU survivor and hunter. Like, why even bring her from the off no questions asked while questioning Jack, if she’s so helpless she’s hiding and gormless to the point Mary had to actually ask her if she knows how to stab someone. This is weird and I hope they’re going to show her developing cos urgh. wtf.
- Cas is “still breathing” after fighting like a human and being all bloodied up like a human without healing himself. straight into the #human!cas tag.
- Callbacks to Crowley and as @bluestar86 said Kip just reminds us of another demon dude from 14x08 and this is totally true, “Barthamus call me Bart" and “Kipling call me Kip”. What’s next, “Judas call me J”?.
- Sam’s “enough!”
is the best moment of this episode hands down and I am excite for this symbolism for his character growth. I don’t personally think this is at all him declaring he’s King or Regent, he’s just asserting his very puny human authority, albeit as the one time could have been ruler but he isn’t and doesn’t want to be, and regardless the demons fear him for who he is as Sam Winchester not as a potential king.
BOOM> Sam Fucking Winchester amiright?!
He’s feared by demons because of who he chooses to be as a person and he’s respected by humans for who he chooses to be.
It’s a total mirror opposite.
It’s a bookend.
I LOVE it.
DAMN DABB.
- Cas supporting Sam, the only one who really asks how he is, is such brother / best friend goals. Sam being honest about his feelings and the opposite mirror of Cas deflecting from his own when Sam asks how he is in return is painful. Please Cas, tell us what you want.
- “Sunshine”. OK but literally the whole point of that scene was Bobby calling Mary sunshine while flirting with beer bottles. Nothing else happened. It’s like Dabb is literally wielding a Destiel subtext hammer and bashing it into canon in new and interesting ways every moment he can at this point when they’re not even in the episode or scene. I’m reminded of David/Violet. I wanted Mary/Bobby Destiel parallels and we got it in episode 1. Excellent.
- Cas and Jack have their deeply meaningful mirroring scene about feeling human whilst both sporting mirroring injuries from mirrored wounds and both being punched in the face. (Dabb loves mirrors so much I may send him a fruit and donut basket with a great big mirror inside too for shits and giggles).
Cas and Jack’s scene is yet more exposition that neither are valid due to their powers but valid and loved for who they are.
Just as Sam is feared by demons and respected by humans for who he is not due to any demon blood or destiny.
Just as Dean is loved and will be saved by his family because of who he is not how useful he is as a tool.
I’m reminded of my tag #season who we are 13 because that was so set up in that season from Dabb’s own premiere, showing just how much he does hark back and have a clear and consistent thematic overview of his story.
You may by this point see why I’m quite so done with the Dabb bashing on SM this week? How it’s totally inconsistent with the actual canon of the show? That he clearly knows exactly what he’s doing thematically even if he’s not so hot on small details and Bucklemming/Singer take turns dumping a turd into his and the others writers’ pot of gold every now and again? Yeah, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
- LET SAM SLEEP 2k19!!!
#spn 14x01#tinks meta#watching notes#supernatural#destiel#supernatural meta#dean winchester#sam winchester#sam fucking winchester#castiel#mary fucking winchester#mary winchester#im an idiot and forgot to put a cut in sorry everyone!
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oops, i (fake) love you, ch. 06
vi. Percy
She's so annoying, Percy thinks as he picks up the paper containing the first lesson. Then, he looks at the other papers scattered on his bed. But so thorough.
In all honesty, Percy still thinks that maybe he's dreaming, because there's no way that Annabeth is now helping him, even if this is somehow coated in sarcastic remarks and ridiculous demands (like giving him homework). When he went to ask for her help in mythology class that day, his mind was running a thousand miles a minute to actually comprehend what he's doing. Once lunch rolled out did he just realize that he really tried to ask for her help. Which was probably the most embarrassing thing he has ever done.
Asking Annabeth Chase for help? Pshhh.
Then the events just followed, and next thing he knew, he was signing up for a fake dating agreement with the enemy. THE Enemy.
For a second, he contemplates not doing any of the steps written on the lesson plan. After all, Annabeth might be sabotaging his plan of dating Rachel, and instead of making him better, she might be making him worse. But then, he figures that she's not that evil to do such a thing, even if she's a little short-tempered and rude.
So he picks up the first lesson and tries to soak up as much as he can.
The next day, when Percy goes to school, he's a little afraid to admit that he's more self-conscious than usual.
He's not wearing his glasses, and the dark green shirt Annabeth suggested he wear clings to his skin more than he likes to. He doesn't really know how wearing this will make him look more appealing to the eyes, because, to be honest, he feels a little stupid.
But when he accidentally bumps to a girl from his English class in the hallway, he changes his mind.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" A voice screeches.
"I'm sorry. I really didn't see you—"
"Percy Jackson?" The girl asks suddenly as she peers at him. "From Mr. Blofis' class?"
"Uh, yeah." Percy reaches up and rubs the back of his neck since he could not push back his glasses.
Her eyes gaze at him from head to toe, then she grins. "Would you look at that? You clean up nicely, after all."
Did he just—did he just get complimented?
"Um, thanks," he says, his cheeks a little flushed.
Out of nowhere, he feels a pinch on his side, and she winks at him. "If you ever need help in English, you know who to ask."
He can only muster a nod, then she's already waving goodbye.
Woah. That was out of the ordinary. For all his stay in Goode, he never really got a wink from anyone (except maybe for Leo, whose eyes are always twitching, anyway).
But that? That is something new to him.
Grover sidles up to him, talking about the latest campaign his club is going to host, as Percy picks up the rest of his books from his locker. Grover hasn't seen him yet.
"Y'know, I really like this fun run drive we're hosting. I mean, I know I couldn't run because duh, crutches, but the importance of this program is—woah."
"Hello, G-man," Percy greets.
Grover squints his eyes at him. "Am I talking to the right Percy Jackson?"
"Of course. Who did you think I was?"
"Are you sure you're not an imposter or something? Y'know, cos my best friend has glasses and has this really bad style of clothing."
"I didn't think it was that bad."
"Uh, sure it was."
Nico, Percy's cousin, who happens to pass by the hallway, takes a look at him and smirks. "Hey, you actually look human today, Perce."
"Says the zombie," he retorts.
"Fuck off," Nico says, then walks away.
"I'll never understand your weird cousin dynamics," Grover comments, as he shakes his head at them. "So, is this part of your new grooming tactics or...?"
Percy tucks his hands to his jeans and shrugs. "Well, I just decided to change a few styles, and ditch my glasses. Nothing major."
"For what reason?"
"I mean, I just wanted a change from a typical Percy combination. This being a new school year and all."
"Are you sure it's not just to impress Rachel?"
"Uh, umm..," He fumbles for the next words, not sure how to phrase the fact that it is indeed for Rachel, but without revealing his fake dating ploy with Annabeth. "...actually, I've—I've moved on from her."
Grover is so surprised he loses his grip on his crutches for a second. With wide and unbelieving eyes, he stares at Percy. Then, he pokes him on the chest. "No shit man. You aren't Percy."
"You're crazy. I am Percy."
The bell rings, and any retort Grover has is lost among the noise in the hallways. Percy calls in a goodbye to his friend and rushes to his first subject. When he arrives, Annabeth is already sitting and she pays him no attention as he sits on his chair.
Huh. Looks like they're gonna be that couple. Anyway, that works for him, since he doesn't have to explain much to his friends.
However, right after the class ends, instead of directly going outside the classroom, she lingers by his desk. This is no surprise for the students who are still inside the classroom since it is normal to see them arguing after class. But what sends their jaw dropping to the ground is when Annabeth gives him a bashful smile (bashful! He didn't know she was capable of faking that!) and mutters, "I'll see you later at lunch."
To be fair, Percy is quite surprised himself, and much more are the classmates who have witnessed the interaction. Thankfully, no one dared to ask him questions, but he can see the wary and amused faces of their classmates. He gives them an awkward smile which almost turns into a grimace when he sees Annabeth's smirking face by the door.
Ugh. The nerve of that girl.
When the lunch bell rings, he almost forgets Annabeth's little stint after mythology class. A number of his classmates have noticed his new appearance, and their positive comments have uplifted his mood for the first half of the day.
"Hey, you look extra dashing today, Percy," Piper says as she takes in his appearance. She smirks when she notices the flush on his cheeks. "Got a hot date?"
Jason, who apparently, overheard the comment says, "Psh. Percy with a hot date? Never."
Piper pinches Jason on the arm. Weirdly enough, the blonde's cheeks turn red. "Don't be mean to him. All my friends are capable of a hot date."
"Say it louder, Pipes!" Leo exclaims.
Just then, Percy's object of affections arrives in a mass of red curls. Rachel looks good today, just as she does always. She beams at everyone when she arrives at their table. "What are you guys talking about?"
"We're talking about how Percy looks dashing today, and whether he is capable of a hot date," Piper says.
Rachel's gaze focuses on Percy, and she smiles at him. "Yeah. I noticed that too."
He's so absorbed with her blinding smile that he fails to recognize the new voice that joins in the conversation, up until he feels a hand squeezing on his shoulder.
"Hey, I told you I'd see you during lunch," Annabeth says to him, and without waiting for a response, leans closer to press a kiss on his cheek.
Woah. Just what.
Seriously, a kiss? On his cheek?
The action makes him stiffen in surprise because really, he did not see that coming. However, this does not escape Annabeth's eyes as she gives his shoulder a tighter squeeze as a warning. But it seems that the Fates are on his side today since his friends are apparently too stunned to take notice of his reaction.
Really, a warning would have been nice next time.
Piper recovers quicker than the rest and stares at Annabeth like she expects her to suddenly wage war on their table. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, why are you here?"
Annabeth looks at him and smiles a little tightly. "I'm guessing you haven't told them yet?"
"Haven't told us what?" Grover asks once he swallows his enchilada.
Underneath the table, Annabeth pinches his thighs, and glances at him as if saying, 'you tell them.' He swallows down his nerves and avoids Rachel's eyes.
"Uh, surprise! Annabeth's kind of...um, my girlfriend now."
As if to prove the point, Annabeth interlaces her fingers with his, but he still stiffens with the alien feeling. This time, Rachel catches the reaction with her eyes.
"Girlfriend," Leo repeats, and he gestures to the two of them. "So, um, the two of you are dating now?"
"Yes. Believe or not," Annabeth answers with a tight smile.
"Um, cool." Leo mutters under his breath, 'I believe it not.' Jason shoots him a look. "Congrats Percy and Annabeth. I'm glad that you've, uh...put the past behind you."
"Righttt," Piper agrees way too enthusiastic. "When did this happen?"
Percy answers "yesterday" at the same time Annabeth says "last week." At this, she sends him a knowing look while proceeding to create an excuse. "So, we actually got together last week, but knowing our past, we were hesitant to take a step forward. So we waited for a while then decided to make it official yesterday."
Percy nods his agreement.
"Oh, that's...great."
The rest of the lunch is filled with a weird and tense silence. That's the only way he can describe it. Once the lunchtime ends, Annabeth bids him goodbye with a little smile and an awkward wave to his friends.
"Did that just literally happen?" Jason asks once she's out of earshot. He stares at Percy. "Seriously, you two are dating now?"
"Is it so hard to believe that we do?"
"Um, duh. Did you forget the fact that you were fighting like cats and dogs three days ago?"
"Well, bantering is our form of flirting. And besides, the more you hate, the more you love, right?" Percy shrugs with a smile. His friends just stare at him blankly.
"That's the most messed up thing you've said. Anyways, I'm going. Bye Perce," Grover comments, and hobbles out from the cafeteria. The rest of his friends also file out, muttering goodbyes and half-hearted congratulations. Except for Rachel, who remains seated from where she arrived an hour ago.
"Percy, can we talk?" Rachel asks, then peers at the area around her. The cafeteria is almost empty, but there are still some people lingering on the sides. "Preferably somewhere private."
There's a weight on his stomach, and his nerves suddenly feel on edge. "Okay," he croaks out, then follows her out of the cafeteria. She leads him to an empty classroom in a hallway that's not frequented by people.
Rachel closes the door and crosses her arms in front of her chest. There's a determined look in her eyes and a little anger that Percy really doesn't want to face.
"What are we doing here?" he asks.
"I need you to be honest with me, Percy," she says, then fixes him a stare. "Is Annabeth setting you up for this? Is she manipulating you to act as her boyfriend?"
Percy's mind reels. What? He takes a moment to shake his head because he did not really expect that question. But this moment of hesitation seems to spur Rachel on.
"I mean, she may not look like it, but she can be very manipulative. And I don't want you to be at the end of her games. She can harm you."
"Okay, wait. No," Percy says. This is all going the wrong way. "Annabeth is not using me, nor is she manipulating me. We agreed to go out because we liked each other, even if it may not look like it. No one's using the other, okay?"
"But why do you freeze when she touches you? Like she's repulsive to you?"
Percy internally flinches because that wasn't intentional at all. It's an after effect of what happened to him on the past, and even though he is getting better, the muscle memory still remains. He's not ready to tell Rachel any of it, so he makes a statement that is not entirely a lie.
"To be fair, I'm still getting used to the physical touches couples do when they're together. And Annabeth's my first girlfriend, so it may take some time for me to adjust."
Rachel nods hesitantly like she still doesn't fully believe what he's saying but is willing to let it go. "Okay, fine. But are you really sure? You know you can always ask me to trip her on track practice or something if she does hurt you in one way or another."
"Right. I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he says with a smile. "Thanks for worrying about me, anyway."
"Of course. You're my friend."
This time the smile Rachel sends him feels like a knife to the heart.
"That could've gone way worse," Percy amends as he watches Annabeth pace up and down to his room. She had ambushed him yet again right after he got out of his last class, so he had to make up an excuse for his friends that he couldn't join them.
"It was the worst!" Annabeth exclaims. "They looked at me like I literally kicked a puppy when you introduced me as your girlfriend."
"Well, you were rude to me a lot of times so..." he stops talking once he sees the deadly glare she's giving him. "They were probably just caught off-guard. I mean, we just fought like we couldn't be around each other three days ago."
"Plus, we almost messed up with our inconsistent answers!" She falls back to his bed with a groan. "God! I can't believe I forgot to create a backstory."
"Good thing they're too stunned to question us properly then." Percy scrunches his eyebrows as he remembers their reactions. "But I don't think that they really bought this dating thing."
"Yeah. It was evident on their faces," she agrees. He nods.
"By the way, why are you always flinching whenever I touch you? It doesn't look good if we want to convince them that we're really dating," Annabeth asks. She stares at him, but he avoids her eyes.
"I'm—I'm not really used to physical touches," he lies. He can feel Annabeth's eyes on him, probably thinking whether to call out his BS or not, because back when they still got each other's backs, they used to touch all the time. Hugs, friendly punches, anything really.
"You never minded before."
That's different, he wants to say. He doesn't really know whether to tell her or not that she'd been right about Gabe all along. No, he decides, because she doesn't deserve to know after she left him unguarded in the dark.
This time, he looks at her in the eyes. "Yeah, but you were never a stranger then."
She sucks in a breath and sits up facing away from him. "Stranger, huh?"
"You did say that we can't be friends."
"You're right." She turns to him. "But that doesn't mean we can't be acquaintances."
He raises an eyebrow at her. She does the same.
Annabeth shrugs and asks, "So, tell me something new about yourself."
"Why?"
"So we can be acquaintances and no longer strangers to each other," she answers. He contemplates this for a moment.
"I like dolphins," he says, after a while.
"That wasn't new."
"I got a scraped knee after tripping on the bushes in fourth grade."
"I know that already."
"What? How?"
"That's because I was the one who pushed you."
"I knew that wasn't an accident."
She smirks. "Come on. Tell me something new."
"You probably knew everything about me already."
"Lie. I've only known you for half of your life, and that still leaves the other half."
"Fine. I tried eating olive pizza, and I've got to admit that it wasn't as bad as I've expected."
"Really? I knew you would like it. Nobody hates olive pizza," Annabeth says with a grin.
He rolls his eyes. "I never said I like it. I just said that it wasn't that bad."
"Sounds the same to me. Anyway," she clears her throat. "As for me, I once switched a girl's shampoo for glue because she was being rude to all of us. In short, her hair became a sticky mess."
"Savage," Percy comments. "I didn't know you had it in you."
She shrugs. "Well, she was being mean. Somebody ought to give her a lesson."
"Through a sticky hair?"
"Through a sticky hair." Annabeth reaches her hand out to him. "Now that we know one thing new about the other, we're no longer strangers. I suppose this will make you less nervous?"
He shrugs. "Maybe."
She intertwines her fingers with his own. Her hand, although tanned, still looks pale in comparison to his bronze ones. This time, when she squeezes, he doesn't flinch.
"You have small hands," he comments.
Annabeth chuckles. "I don't. Yours are just long." She looks at their hands, where his fingers almost engulf her own. "To be fair, I never really expected you to grow taller than me."
"Ye girl of little faith."
"I have a lot of faith."
"Really, huh?"
"Just not in you."
"You're mean," Percy says, and let goes of her hand to pinch her.
She glares at him for a moment but slides her fingers back with his. He startles but it's barely noticeable. Yet she has known anyway.
Her gray eyes meet his. "I want you to hold my hand until you get used to the feeling, okay?"
Looking at their intertwined hands and their first civil conversation in a while, he smiles.
"Sure."
He can get used to this alright.
A/N: Hello! I had some fun writing this chapter because it's generally light and fluffy. (I LOVE writing fluff). Also, this is a 'little' longer than my usual chapter length so I hoped you appreciated that.
And I'd just like to greet everyone "Happy Holidays!" Hope you all are doing great, and please don't forget to leave a comment or anything really. I always look forward to feedback from you guys.
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so revisiting octavia blake (especially after what we’ve seen of her in s5e06 tonight)... what’s your understanding of octavia blake, in relation to bloodreina and also as one of the most disliked characters in the fandom?
TW – there follows some discussion of abuse so if that is one of your sensitivities, I wish you well and recommend caution with what follows. Are you asking if I still stan Octavia now she’s Blodreina? Because the answer to that is complicated but basically yes. For clarity: stanning, to me, doesn’t involve nailing my colours to the mast and then contorting myself into ever more unlikely shapes to justify every single thing my fave has ever done. It’s possible to love and emphathise with a character, while also acknowledging the terrible things they’ve done or are. Maybe I don’t need to tell you this, but maybe others need to hear it: don’t let ANYONE shame you for loving Octavia. And by that I mean if someone tries, just tune them tf out. They don’t get it, they never will. They aren’t worth your time and energy. Let that truth set you free. So yeah, I still love Octavia, with all her flaws and her sharp edges. I can’t love Blodreina, but while Blodreina is certainly Octavia, Octavia is not Blodreina. Blodreina is the very worst of Octavia. Spoiled, demanding, hard, judgemental, imperious, unyielding, cold, unempathetic and very, very violent. She is the culmination of the story of a non-person, disempowered and locked up under the floor, coming into being and being handed a sword. And power. So much power. She is a product of necessity. She is an amalgamation of Jaha’s lessons, Indra and Kane’s guidance, Kara’s support and Gaia’s teachings. She has a god complex which, imo, can only go the way of Mount Weather. By which I mean it will probably consume everything in its path before blowing to smithereens and taking at least one of our faves down with it. But while Blodreina is certainly real, let’s not get carried away with OCTAVIA IS REVEALED AS FOR THE MONSTER SHE’S BEEN ALL ALONG. Deep breaths everyone, and maybe a sip of water. Blodreina is a persona who enables Octavia to carry out the most monstrous of deeds (hi Jaha!) and live with it. Has Octavia drunk the Blodreina Koolaid? Most certainly. But Octavia embracing her worst is not the same has Octavia being the worst. Also see: Bellamy season 1 and season 3a. Would you look at that A PARALLEL WE LOVE PARALLELS. Blodreina serves a purpose for Octavia-of-the-butterflies too. Because this show is this show and we are never more than a few monologues away from “love is weakness”, Blodreina is also a protective casing that locks away Octavia’s grief, her pain and her misery, her loneliness and self-loathing, along with her vulnerability and empathy. It seems super obvious to me that Octavia’s personal journey this season, apart from trying and presumably failing to keep Wonkru intact, will be about disassociating herself from Blodreina. And that, probably, won’t come without falling spectacularly from grace and facing her pain, and reckoning with the things she’s done. Also see: Bellamy seasons 1-4. Huh. What happens when the exoskeleton crumbles? What’s underneath? What will Octavia-who-washed-Lincoln’s-wounds, come to think about Blodreina and the things she’s done in the name of her people? How will she confront the agony of being Octavia Blake, naked, piteous and vulnerable, the girl under the floor who was denied existence?
I want these things for Octavia. I want the narrative to subject her to the most abject moral scrutiny because that is what you should want for the characters you love. It’s what makes them interesting. It’s what makes them matter. ALSO SEE BELLAMY FOREVER. Now I’ve been in this fandom long enough not to expect many others to see it this way. We are balls deep in moral monochrome here in the Bellarke fandom, and while that gives me pause for a sip of tea and a short prayer to the patron saints of patience, it’s not a situation that anyone can change, least of all me. And why would I? People are free to engage with the show how they want, as long as they stay in their lane.
And look, I get why some people can’t see past some of her sins. I, too, have characters that I dislike with varying degrees of rationality. But objectively, Octavia’s level of moral turpitude is at about the same level as any of the main characters. That’s just a fact. People’s personal preferences, while as valid as any other preference, are just that: subjective opinions. Where I start to sip my tea and raise my eyes to the heavens is when people start presenting their subjective opinions as objective FUCK YOU AND YOUR INBOX truth and thanks but no. It seems to be fanon lore now that Octavia is unempathetic and…it just makes no sense. This is the girl who was filled with wonder at Earth, who refused to let Jasper die even when everyone in camp wanted him to. She saw the humanity in Lincoln when Bellamy, Clarke and Raven could not. She saw the humanity in humanity when all anyone wanted to do was kill each other until they burned in Praimfaya. Wonkru exists because Octavia inspired them with her faith in them. The only way it begins to make sense is when you consider Octavia’s actions through the prism of Bellamy’s experience – which 8/10 is how the BC fandom at least views the show. (Also valid btw. I also project onto my faves! Bellamy among them! But see above for subjective opinion vs objective fact.) With Bellamy, the lack of empathy is real. Octavia, or at least the Octavia of seasons 1-4 high key struggled to see Bellamy as a fully realised person with desires and feelings of his own. But, while this sucks for Bellamy, from Octavia’s perspective it is entirely understandable. No matter how young Bellamy seems to us, to Octavia he is her parent figure. How many of the people on here haven’t put their parents through hell from time to time? I shouldn’t have to point out the bleeding obvious here, which is that teenagers who care deeply about animal welfare, trans rights, LGBTQA+ rights, poverty and climate change can also go through phases of being absolutely fucking awful to their parents. Often, that’s because in our world, teens are subjected to an unholy amount of pressure with which they struggle to cope, and the overspill of that hurt lands on the people responsible for them. It doesn’t make them bad people. And, yes, that can, occasionally, tip over into emotional and, more rarely, physical abuse but we don’t usually call it that. We call that “teenagers being fucking awful” and I am 100% sure that this is the context the writers room is working from. Do I think it’s acceptable, or justified? Hell no. But it’s important to take these narrative threads in the context of the real-world understanding of the people who develop them. This show isn’t created in a vacuum. Now work the scenario I outlined above into a post-apocalyptic landscape with 2x traumatised victims of systemic injustice, one of whom was locked up by the other because of that injustice. Yeah. What is so interesting to me is that the blind spot Octavia has wrt Bellamy – the blind spot that denied him access to the empathy she showed everyone else - has come into play again now she’s Blodreina, but in a different way. After 6 years of having everyone kowtow to her, and after vowing not to love, suddenly Octavia is making concession after concession for her brother at huge personal risk to herself. It might not seem like that to us, or to Bellamy (and legit! I get why, from Bellamy’s POV), but to Octavia it must seem like she’s trying SO HARD to give him what he wants within the framework of what she thinks is achievable. Consider love is weakness. Consider that she throws herself into his arms on sight, in full view of all of her people. Consider being the arbiter of life and death for 6 years. Now consider Bellamy asking her to trust him. She does and is rewarded with a sonic blast. Bellamy delivers her an ultimatum about Echo, and she concedes. She fucking concedes! When has she ever willingly conceded on anything and ESPECIALLY NOW SHE HOLDS THE POWER OF AN EMPEROR? It’s fairly obvious from the Blake siblings sparring session that Bellamy was the symbolic winner. He got through to her. Octavia NEVER forgives. But she offers Echo – the woman whose sins Octavia will never forget - a way out. When Echo and Bellamy refuse, does she banish Echo? She could do. She’s Blodreina. She’s used to doing whatever the fuck she wants. But, no. She accepts the alternative, and even helps Echo on her way. Yes, it’s brutal and Blodreina-y and serves a double purpose but still, she helps her. She’s not doing that for Echo. She’s doing it for Bellamy. No, she’s not doing it with a winning smile and a cuddle, but that’s not Blodreina’s style. She tries to thank him for saving them, in the only way she knows how. She reaches out, and he lashes out with cold anger. And perhaps it’s deserved. No, it’s definitely deserved, but GODDAMMIT that was a “you’re dead to me” level of cruelty. Can I just roll back a second and talk about how co-dependent the Blake sibs are? Cool. A friend (I can’t remember who, sorry) once said that Bellamy and Octavia carried their cage back down to Earth with them. And for seasons 1-4 that is absolutely what happened. They are spectacularly co-dependent. Bellamy depends on her to give him purpose, and a direction and reason to live. Octavia depends on him to absorb the overspill of her hurt, to push against, to take the blame for all of the ills in her life. It sucks for them both, and they’re TRAPPED, so terribly trapped, and neither is the other’s jailer but neither can walk away either. And just, what strikes me about the interactions we saw in the sneak peek for 507 is that maybe, FINALLY, Bellamy has broken free of their co-dependent relationship. He may not even realise it yet, but he has completely re-centred his world around Spacekru now. And I think, that if push comes to shove, he will prioritise Spacekru above Octavia, even if it hurts them both. It doesn’t mean he loves Octavia any less, but after 6 years of love and support and peace and quiet, Bellamy has broken out of the cage. Bellamy is free. Excuse me while I cry tears of joy. But Octavia isn’t free. Octavia hasn’t had 6 years of peace and support and love. Octavia’s life has been marked by trauma from the moment of her birth, and the trauma hasn’t let up for a single goddamned second it just keeps coming and coming and coming until all she has is her walls and an alter-ego and the hope that she can keep Wonkru together and her brother by her side. Believe me when I say that Octavia is still very much trapped inside the cage which Bellamy has now vacated. IT IS ALL VERY HEARTBREAKING OKAY. IT HURTS. So yes, I still love Octavia and I am ready to see her again when Blodreina falls.
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But I think Nick will die for June at the end (Max, here is your chance to instill some life into the character, right before he dies. Ha) Oh, and yeah... people giving him a pass are just ridiculous. Granted he had little power, but he was driving when the commanders came up with the ceremony idea, and who knows what else he’s privy to in those 500 millions car rides. He has an important job, easy access to anywhere including the borders, knows a shit ton about the inner workings of Gilead.
Never did he try to escape, and share that intel with the rest of the world. It would’ve been so easy for him to do. Fine, let’s say he’s with the resistanc, trying to fight from within, but honestly he’s not done much on that front either. The previous handmaid killed herself, and he couldn’t do much for the current one. Never mind the others. Basically nothing in the past 5 years or so… why is he so great?
This is what annoys me about all the Serena hate. Sure, she’s awful… but she gets more hate than everyone else, including Fred sometimes. What about aunt Lydia? Carrying out daily punishments to all handmaids, literally has mutilated every sinlgle one of them.. but but she really really loves them!!
Or commander Joseph? He was the architect of the financial system, and also the colonies (if I remember correctly). Oh I don’t know, sounds like a big deal… but but he’s so quirky, and throws out a few funny one liners. Anyway, in conclusion, Serena good, everyone else sucks (j/k, sort of). Rant over.
—
This is such a huge, complex issue. This is gonna get loooooooooooonnnnnnngggggggggg.
Personally, I’m tired of the “he had little power” argument for Nick. It’s akin to “He’s just following orders” imo. The Nuremberg defense. He wasn’t that powerless, lbr. He’s a man. With a brain. The ability to say, “Um, no thanks.” Which puts him in incredible power over every single woman, including Wives. Maybe at the beginning when he was a mere driver he had less power (but he still had the ability to say no). But he still had a damn voice and opinion, and what did he do with it? Supported the Handmaid system. Blatantly. Barely any hesitation. Nick has been complicit in Gilead from the very beginning when he was literally hand-picked by Pryce because he was a disillusioned, entitled, little man with anger issues. (Hmm, sounds familiar to a lot of the ultra-right MRAs now.) He could have said no. I’m sure he could have even gotten out of that cesspool as soon as he saw where it was heading. Pryce is one of the OGs of Gilead. Nick stayed quiet and continued to support him, for years and years and years. Then he directly supported Waterford, another Gilead OG, for years. He did literally NOTHING to help any women at any point, until June came along and only then did he help her, but not women in general. Just June. He is so incredibly selfish and self-serving. But hey, woobie cinnamon roll. Blah.
Now, is it understandable? Sure. Nobody wants to be poor, sent to a labour camp, or die. But maybe Nick could have just been an Economan? He could have been a soldier. He could have been a rebel! Who knows. I never once saw him threatened with anything at all, except in 2x10/2x11. Sort of. I do get why Nick would stay quiet, keep his head down, and as man --have no concept of what he was doing. But I don’t think that absolves him of his involvement. Which is essentially my issue with him.
Even in mid-S2 he still had NO concept of what women really experience in Gilead. His whiny bullshit to June about not wanting to fuck Eden was just... the moment I realised he has literally learnt and absorbed NOTHING. He was literally whinging to JUNE WHO IS RAPED EVERY MONTH about how he doesn’t want to have sex with Eden.
Like, yeah, I wouldn’t want to rape a child either. (And yes, I do consider it rape regardless of whether Eden says she wants to do it or not. She has no concept of even the ability to consent. She thinks she HAS to or die, and Serena has confirmed that repeatedly.) And it’s a fucking horrible choice: rape a child or be hanged for being gay. Holy shit that’s awful. So, in a way, it’s mutual rape??? Well, that’s sort of awful since Eden isn’t doing anything at all. But Nick is being abused by the very system he helped organise. Funny that. (Not funny.)
I am just so fucking glad June called him on it. But it’s that sort of attitude and behaviour that makes it really hard for me to consider Nick an honest to goodness Good Guy, rather than just a Nice Guy TM. It’s not like it was just a flashback, it was current Gilead.
And because of that lack of understanding on his part, I think that’s why he’s done basically nothing. Honestly? What has he done for the resistance?
...
Um.
1. Gave letters to Luke.
...
That’s it.
(Don’t get me started on that whole “these letters are so revolutionary!!!” subplot cos it was so nonsensical when there are literal human beings saying the same things RIGHT THERE lol.)
Not that it’s not a big deal. It was very important. But that’s literally all he has done for the resistance as an entity. Everything else has just been for June, specifically, which is, essentially for his own sense of well-being. He has SO MUCH DIRT on Waterford, at least. And like you said, he has so much background on Gilead as a whole. He knows every in and out of it and has nothing with it. At least that we’ve seen.
Other things he’s done? Ignoring June’s “misbehaviour”. Fucking June. Acting as a decoy to protect June at the house in the woods. Helping Serena forge security documents and various things (which is not for the resistance either but it was a Good Thing, but if we’re gonna give credit to him for that ya gotta give it to Serena (and June) too). Everything he’s done in terms of smuggling and Jezebels--which is not at all for the resistance and only benefits the men.
He’s just not that great.
ANYWAY. ENough about Nick. He’s not worth it lol.
This is what annoys me about all the Serena hate. Sure, she’s awful… but she gets more hate than everyone else, including Fred
THIS. IS. IT.
THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT INFURIATING THING IN FANDOM.
I AGREE 100000000%.
Serena by far gets the most hate, for ANY POSSIBLE THING. I think it’s come to the point where Serena could just walk a certain way and viewers would criticise her for which foot she put first. This woman BY FARRRRR gets the blame for everything. More than Fred.
And we all know why.
Don’t even get me started on the fan-boner for Commander Lawrence. Oh my god, he’s so quirky and weird! He didn’t rape Emily! WHAT A GREAT GUY!!!! I HOPE HE’S IN S3!! I WANT TO KNOW ALL ABOUT HIM!!! HE’S SO AWESOME!
No.
He’s a fucking creep.
His wife is literally so traumatised by his existence she’s gone somewhat insane, so he LOCKS HER IN HER ROOM. “For her own good”, ofc.
He created the financial system AND the Colonies.
We literally have no idea if he’s beaten women, withheld anything, or raped them during Ceremonies. (I would assume he has. A man who invents the fucking Colonies doesn’t seem like the sort of dude to draw the line at state-sanctioned rape or corporeal punishment. So, let’s assume that at least he’s participated in Ceremonies in the past.)
But hey, he played some Annie Lennox and has cool comic books! And look, what an amazing man he is for helping Emily escape! He’s got such a pure heart!
Yes, the man who invented radioactive concentration deathcamps for gay/feminist/old/barren/adulterous women. He’s such a paragon of peace and feminism. We all should love him.
I...
CAN’T...
EVEN.
Meanwhile, yes, Serena has done fucking horrible things. (She did NOT invent the Handmaid system however.) But wait... HORRIBLE IRREDEEMABLE CUNT!!!!!!!!!! NEVER FORGIVE ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE HATES WOMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DIE BITCH DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And there is literally no interest in discussing her rationally, or even attempting to understand why she does what she does. BORING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GO DIE!!!
(The gendered slurs towards Serena often are also very, very telling.)
I have no problem with people hating Serena, or criticizing her. Good. She deserves it.
I do have a problem holding her to some different standard than literally ANY OTHER CHARACTER. While actively ignoring the horrible shit the men do on a regular basis. The two most hated characters? Serena and Lydia. But you’re right, I often see the “Aunt Lydia is horrible and I hate her... but she loves the girls in her own messed up way and is doing her best for them!!!”
Yeah? Well, Serena loves children. Like, really fucking loves kids. In her own messed up way and is doing her best for them.
I don’t think it’s any coincidence that the two most hated characters and the ones that receive the most vitriol are female villains whereas male villains are just sort of skimmed over. Sure, people say, “I hate Fred” it’s not nearly as gendered or as intense. And in a way I get it, cos women hating other women to such a degree is ... just... unbearable. But it was literally the men who both created and maintain the society. ALL MEN. No excuses, no exceptions. ALL men, including precious Nick. Whether or not he’s happy or likes the system, he’s still done fuck all to change it and he still benefits from it.
Where’s the outrage at Warren for sexually abusing Janine? Oh, right. He got punished for that so it’s all fine. (Serena was literally whipped with a belt for doing a Good Thing, and lost a finger for another Good Thing, but hey, “She deserved it. It’s not enough! She needs to DIE a horrible death ASAP.”) Where the consistent outrage at Fred for basically everything he ever says and does? Where’s the same outrage for participating in raping pregnant June? (I do get there is a difference and even June knows it but still. The outrage was not even close to the same level. They literally blame Serena for Fred’s behaviour like he’s some poor, voiceless rube that is controlled entirely by her.) And we’ve already discussed the lack of outrage at Joe, or Nick.
I dunno.
It makes me so sad and angry. Serena could just sigh the wrong way and fans will insist she dies. Fred is an architect of the system (WAY more than Serena), continues to support the system wholeheartedly, cheats on his wife by grooming and sexually assaulting the Handmaids (yes, plural), then blames his wife for him cheating, beats the shit out of his wife, chops off her finger, rapes a pregnant woman (not to mention all the other rapes, where it is completely in his power to say no thanks not tonight at any time), wallops June across the face, gleefully supports murdering children, and implies that he wants to continue raping June for as long as possible to get a son (so, FOREVER), and hey, that’s just Fred being Fred. Cos, look, he lets June play Scrabble and see her baby. Fred has not done a single Truly Good Thing.
Not to say Serena hasn’t done almost equally awful things to some of those things. She has. But the sheer hatred towards her and the vocal outrage far surpasses Fred. Even when she legitimately does a Truly Good Thing (of which she has done exactly 3 lol), people say, “Well, so what? Hang the bitch!!!!!!!”
I know I sound like some delusional Serena Joy stan but really, the sexism and misogyny even in a fandom like THT is staggering.
Because sadly, I see it towards June as well. I have literally read terrible takes about how June isn’t that great, but Nick is the true gem. June isn’t that great cos she’s the Other Woman and wasn’t compassionate to Luke’s wife accosting her, but Luke is fine even though he was the actual adulterer and he was totally right to be screaming at his (ex-)wife like that on the phone. June gets a shit load of criticism for a lot of things while certain other male characters, again, get a pass for sometimes worse decisions and behaviour.
So, yes, I agree SO FUCKING HARD with your rant and always feel free to rant!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :DDDDDDDDDD
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look at where we’ve been (through time) - bechloe fic
based on a prompt from @isthemusictoblame who wanted a bechloe first date (round about). i really hope u like it xx
“Is it possible to actually, like, shit yourself from nerves?”
Beca scrutinises her reflection in the bedroom mirror for about the millionth time in the last hour, checking and double checking that she’s put enough concealer on that giant fucking zit that’s magically appeared overnight, quelle surprise. Maybe she should burst it. Would bursting it make it better or worse?
“Yeah,” Amy replies from across the room, flicking another page in her copy of Extreme Fishing. Beca stares back at her in the mirror, horrified. “Wait—did I say yes? I meant no. I definitely meant no. That’s happened to nobody, ever.”
Beca doesn’t exactly feel reassured. “Jesus Christ. What if I shit myself?”
“Wear extra absorbent underwear.”
“Amy, I’m going on a date. I’m wearing my sexiest underwear.”
“By sexiest underwear, do you mean your boxer shorts with the little dog faces on them? Because I’ve rummaged through your stuff enough times by now to know that they’re literally the only kind you own, you turnip.”
Okay, so that’s another thing she needs to add to her list of inappropriate things Fat Amy does to Beca’s shit when she’s not paying attention. Beca opens her mouth, but no words seem to come out. This happens a lot around Amy. She’s actually run out of reactions. Her jaw swings open and closed like a door on a loose hinge, until Amy finally looks up from her weird magazine.
“What?” Amy shrugs, “If you do want actual sexy underwear, ask Stacie. She gave me some great catalogs. The stuff is really cheap and barely worn. Honestly. The elasticity in this thong I got was pretty—“
“Please be quiet,” Beca interjects quickly, deciding to terminate that line of enquiry immediately, because the elasticity of Amy’s dodgy thongs is not something she wants to hear about right now. Suddenly self-conscious, Beca looks under the waistband of her tights, wondering what underwear she’s actually thrown on. “And for your information, my pants actually have cat faces on them today, so…”
“Oh, even worse,” Amy says dramatically, faceplanting her bedspread. “Nobody likes cats, Beca.”
Beca sticks her tongue out to Amy in her reflection. “Nobody likes you.”
“That right? I’m sure if you talked to Philippe, aged twenty-four, from Illinois, because that dude really liked those photos I sent him—“
“Can you actually speak like, one sentence without grossing me out?” Beca says exasperatedly. She tugs at where her shirt tucks into her skirt, wondering if it looks better in or out, or whether it fucking matters at all what she’s wearing. She’s never cared all that much before. “Anyway—who the fuck from Illinois has a name like Philippe?”
“I think he had a fetish for French stuff,” Amy says, like that’s totally normal, “He kept trying to get me to do weird things with garlic and this one time he sent me this video of him eating a snail. Like, a wild, free-range snail he’d found in the street.”
“That’s insane!”
“I know, right?” Amy seems to agree, “I was like, dude, but some seasoning on it at least!”
There’s silence, because Beca’s lost enough of her sanity already, and she’d ideally like to keep some of it intact for the rest of the evening. She decides to leave the shirt loose and wanders back over to her side of the room, reaching out for her phone. At the top of her notifications tray there’s a snapchat from Chloe. With a half-smile, Beca swipes it open.
It’s a picture of Chloe. Specifically, Chloe’s newly-shaved legs in a pair of the sexiest, patent-leather stilettos she’s ever seen, and Beca almost has a gay heart attack right there and then. The caption reads just for you!!! with alternating heart and fire emojis—god, she’s so fucking whipped, and it’s just the first date. God knows what she’s going to be like when she actually sees Chloe in person.
“You’ve got that face on.”
Beca’s cheeks flush bright pink as she quickly shuts off her phone and throws it on the nightstand. She pats her hair, trying to make it look like everything’s totally normal and not like she almost had an orgasm looking at a freaking photograph. “What are you talking about?”
“That face I always pull whenever Philippe sends me a pic of his huge French dick. Sort of like…” Amy opens her mouth wide, her eyes inflating twice their normal size, a hand pressed on her heart for effect. “You’ve got that face on. Has ginger sent you a tit-pic?”
“What?” Beca squeaks, “No!”
“Oh my god, has she sent you a cli—“
Beca throws a pillow at Amy to silence her, who takes the shot like a champ, collapsing onto her bed a la being-shot-by-a-flying-burrito style. “Dude. If you say one more word, I’m hacking into your email and cancelling your Extreme Fishing subscription.”
“Feel free,” Amy shrugs. She rolls up her copy and expertly aims it into the trash, where it sits amongst tampon wrappers and unfinished classwork. “I was ripped off. That magazine has nothing in it about how to fool stupid old men into thinking you’re a part-time Victoria’s Secret model and trauma surgeon online and loads about how to entice carp using natural bait. What the fuck?”
Beca nervously pads back over to the mirror, where the aforementioned zit is currently throbbing painfully and looks way redder than it did a few minutes ago. She groans loudly. “Oh my god. I look a mess. This is the first date I’ve had in months in and my whole body is totally not co-operating.”
Amy sighs, finally moving her ass from her bed and walking up to behind where Beca stands. “For the record, I don’t think you have to worry about what you look like whatsoever.”
“Really?”
“I mean, yeah, that zit on your chin is about the size of Pluto,” she supplies unhelpfully, “But Chloe doesn’t care about that shit. She only cares about seeing you—she’s mushy like that. You could rock up in a garbage bag and she’d be like wow, that bitch is hot, I wanna bang her right now.”
Beca smiles a little. Sure, Amy’s not the most eloquent of speakers when it comes to relationships and emotions and all that, but it does make her feel a bit better about the whole thing. She does have stupid underwear on and a huge spot and a ladder in her tights but Chloe has seen her at four am, vomiting over the toilet after slamming too much tequila. She’s seen her sobbing into a milkshake in the middle of the day after breaking up with Jesse. She’s seen her during finals week when she didn’t wash her hair for a whole seven days. That girl has seen her at rock bottom, yet still wants to take her messy, uncoordinated ass on a date.
“But, Beca,” Amy suddenly says in a real solemn tone, tearing her away from her thoughts, “You have to let me pop that zit.”
Beca darts away from Amy’s vicinity like that superhero from one of those stupid comicbook films Jesse loved—you know, the one with the silver hair that runs really fucking fast, but she can’t remember the name because her head is full of way more important stuff than superheroes—and throws her hand up, grabbing a hockey stick (that belongs to neither her or Amy) and using it as a makeshift cattle prod as Amy follows her around the room like a serial killer.
“You,” Beca swipes at her with the hockey stick, “Are not going anywhere near my face.”
“Come on, Beca, I’ve watched so many YouTube videos on it, I can pop them like a pro—“
“I’m leaving in literally ten minutes. I’m not letting you and your huge monster hands anywhere near my tiny face.”
“What will hurt more—me popping that zit right now for no payment, or Chloe’s look of horror when she sees the start of a mountain range emerging across your chin?”
“You just said she wouldn’t care!”
“Let’s face it, you’d have to be blind not to care about a zit that size and Chloe happened to mention to me the other day that she has perfect twenty-twenty vision. On her driving test she read a sign from a whole mile away, unbelievable, right?”
“Amy, that’s bullshit, you—no! NO! GET AWAY FROM MY FACE! HOLY SHIT, AMY!”
-x-
The whole date thing actually was unintentional. As in Beca didn’t start the day thinking she’d end it securing a date with Chloe Beale. Even though that wasn’t, like, something she thought about pretty much all the time or anything.
They’re sat on the balcony that juts out of Chloe’s attic room, their legs dangling into the abyss, watching as the hazy orange sky blurs into black. Chloe’s just been on her eighth unsuccessful Tinder date of the new year and Beca wonders why she keeps going back to that fucking app, especially when there’s so many people she encounters in her day-to-day that are actually kind-of nice and not ugly or creepy that would be desperate to date her and treat her like she deserves. Because she does. Deserve better. Much better than weird thirty-year-old cashiers with BO and a penchant for rushed sex in uncomfortable places.
“And then he got his dick out,” Chloe says dramatically, complete with hand gesture to make sure Beca completely understands, “Like, right there, in the middle of the restaurant?”
Beca snorts, taking a sip of beer. She passes the bottle to Chloe, who takes a generous swig, wiping her top lip. “Men are weird.”
“They are,” Chloe agrees, nodding sagely, “They totally are. Maybe I should swear off them. Go on a man detox or something.”
“Not a bad idea,” Beca says, like her motives aren’t totally selfish, “It’s kind of what I’ve done. After, you know, Jesse. I just swore off everything.”
Chloe sighs softly. Her arm reaches out and wraps round Beca’s shoulder and she finds herself melting into her, warm and soft jarring with the cold night air. “Still hurting about that, huh?”
“Not really. It’s just—I don’t think I’ve ever been on a good date, and that really put me off? I don’t know what’s wrong with me half the time. Because Jess—he was really nice and considerate and actually liked me, but every time we went out there was this voice going we could just do all this at home.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Chloe states plainly, resolutely. She takes another drink. “What floated his boat sank yours. You were stranded at the harbor while he sailed off. You’re the captain of your own ship, Becs. And maybe you didn’t have room for another sailor.”
Beca murmurs a laugh at the excessive nautical metaphors, but Chloe’s always like this when she’s a bit drunk, verbal diarrhoea all over the place. It’s adorable. “But I do want another sailor on my, uh, boat?”
(It’s really too bad that Chloe’s looking over the balcony and down onto the lawn, because then she would’ve seen the conviction Beca looks at her with, like she’s the only person in the whole wide world that Beca would even dream of being with right now and any time ever. They’re surrounded by stars and Beca’s fucking looking at her like she’s the brightest of them all, and Beca can’t believe what a sap she’s becoming.)
“Maybe you just need a good date,” Chloe says, “And I’m, like, the queen of dating.”
Beca suddenly sits up, narrowing her eyes a little. “Is this you asking me out?”
Chloe shrugs, trying to hide her smile and failing catastrophically, because maybe this is the point she’s always wanted to reach too. “Sure. And it’ll be the best date in the world, I can assure you.”
Beca laughs, a delirious and slightly drunken giggle in the back of her throat. She clamps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I just can’t believe that this is happening.”
Chloe grins, leaning across and pressing a sloppy kiss to Beca’s cheek. Warmth explodes in Beca’s chest and she fights the urge to kiss her back, while she’s in this happy drunken bubble, because she’ll so regret it a few hours later when the buzz has worn off and she’s lying in bed, mapping the cracks in the ceiling.
“You’re my favourite captain,” Chloe says, her words slightly slurred, “You’d be such a bad-ass pirate. I can totally imagine you with a hat and a parrot and those big puffy pants all pirates wear.”
“You’re my favourite captain too,” Beca murmurs, “Because, like, there can be more than one captain.”
(The conversation has kind of lost its way, but it’s nice, and Beca would’ve stayed out there all night drinking beer with Chloe Beale if it didn’t start freaking raining seconds later. Fucking bitch weather always out to kill her vibe. And she totally does not scream that at the sky or anything.)
-x-
Chloe picks her up at seven thirty. Which is weird, considering they live in the same house.
“You didn’t need to ring the bell,” Beca says incredulously, Chloe stood on the doorstep. She’s wearing an off-the-shoulder floral dress that cuts just above her knees, a denim jacket and the same shoes from the photograph she sent earlier. She’s a fucking goddess. “You literally live here. You have keys.”
“I know, but the thought of someone picking me up for a date always gets me really excited, you know?” Chloe says, “I mean the surprise is kind of spoiled because you already know which car I drive, but I do have a brand new playlist I created on Spotify in preparation, and that kind of thing gets you way more excited than cars do.”
Admittedly, Beca is curious, and the effort is really touching so she lets the initial weirdness slide. “As long as there isn’t any Taylor Swift, I’m totally yours, dude.”
Chloe lifts her head. “I can’t promise that. She does have some non-breakup songs that completely fit the occasion. You look beautiful, by the way.”
The compliment is so honest and pure that it knocks some of the air out of Beca’s lungs, because Chloe just called her beautiful, and it’s the first time in a long time that she’s heard that from someone who actually means it (and who she wants to mean it). Chloe just called her beautiful on their doorstep in the most normal day in March, with a giant red splodge on her chin where Amy admittedly popped her zit successfully, and Beca wonders if she might end up remembering this day for the rest of her goddamn life.
“You look great too,” Beca says, which is an understatement, but whatever. “Now, where are you taking me?”
It turns out Chloe has booked a table at a really posh restaurant in the city, which makes Beca feel a little uncomfortable because she’s the kind of girl who is happier with takeaway pizza and sweatpants, but she trusts Chloe and her instincts. They end up at the top of a really tall building surrounded by glass and from their table they can see across the whole of Atlanta, beautiful and illuminated by artificial light. Before she sits Beca presses a hand against the window, waving at the world below.
“You like it?” Chloe asks, standing next to her. Their reflections blur, merging into one another, like for a moment they’re the same person. “Someone I used to work with recommended it to me. Told me it was like you were on top of the world.”
Beca grins; she’s on top of the world, but it’s not all because of the view.
-x-
Surprisingly, Beca doesn’t actually hate the date. For brief, dark seconds she imagines Jesse is the one sat in the chair opposite and her stomach turns, tangled with nerves, scared she’s going to do the wrong thing or say something stupid or embarrass herself in front of her boyfriend. But she blinks and there’s Chloe, grinning and talking madly, and she’s not anxious at all.
(Fuck you, Amy. Shitting has been avoided, absorbent underwear aside.)
They do cute couple-y things like hold hands across the table and share dessert and make other diners uncomfortable. It doesn’t bother her. It’s not new knowledge to her that some people are yet to be dragged into the twenty-first century. She lets Chloe chat the evening away, because listening to Chloe talk is like her favourite song over and over and over again.
When the waiter drops the extortionate bill Beca doesn’t want the night to end. Luckily, Chloe has no plans to.
“Do you wanna see something awesome?” she says, lips curled into a mischievous smile, and Beca would be a grade A idiot to say no to something like that.
“Oh, absolutely.”
-x-
Apparently Chloe knows the security guard who watches over the Atlanta Aquarium. All she does is flutter her eyelashes at the guy stood at the front desk while she’s outside and the doors creak open, letting the two of them in. She grabs Beca’s hand and pulls her through corridors of eerie, dark tanks, illuminated by pale blue lights. She finally stops at a tank that takes over a whole back wall, fish of all shapes and sizes and colours drifting together right in front of them. It’s completely silent, other than the whirr of filters, bubbles rising to the surface.
“For the record,” Beca says, quiet and breathless, “This is the kind of shit that only ever happens in John Green novels.”
“I love John Green novels,” Chloe replies, and when Beca turns, she’s somehow fished a whole bottle of rose wine from somewhere in her jacket. Beca just shakes her head out of disbelief. “Want to get drunk in an aquarium with me?”
Beca untwists the cap, taking the first drink. “As if you even had to ask that question.”
They sit down on the floor a few meters away from the glass and pass the bottle between them, toes of their shoes touching the tank. Beca watches as a fish doused in bronze swims out in front of them, face touching the glass. She lazily points out in front of them. “That one looks like you.”
Chloe snorts. “What, because it’s red?”
“Yeah. It’s red. Like you.”
“In that case,” Chloe leans out, clumsy fingertip landing where a near-microscopic fish internally lit up by a flash of electric blue sits unmoving. “That one looks like you.”
“Well, it’s a good job I’m no longer sensitive about height jokes. You lose.”
Chloe brings the bottle to her lips, taking a sip before speaking. “You know… I meant what I said earlier.”
Beca brushes a strand of her hair away from her face. “About what?”
“That you look beautiful,” Chloe answers matter-of-factly. Beca’s heart stops. “I just think—like, sometimes you need telling. That you are. Beautiful, I mean. I don’t think you believe it.”
Beca half-remembers some line Jesse used on her in freshman year, something about being halfway to his standard of beautiful, and how it didn’t really bother her at the time but after the breakup it kind of gnawed at her, like she was the person she is now because of him and what she thought he wanted. But Chloe… she’s never expected her to be anything, to look like anything. She just wants her to be Beca, whether that’s with the earspike or not, and maybe it took her too long to realise that. Jesse was nice, sure. But there was always this extra layer of expectation with him. Like—she wasn’t quite perfect, to him, and he was trying his hardest to make her that way.
She doesn’t want to be the perfect girlfriend. She likes being messy and nervous and a bit out of control, sometimes. And Chloe gets that. Chloe has always got that.
Beca takes a long drink, refusing to meet Chloe’s eye. She watches the fish, a beautiful, messy rainbow of colours and movement, and how that’s a bit like the Bella’s, this crazy group of crazy girls that somehow all work. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about—what would’ve happened to me, if you’d never violated me in the showers that day. Like where would I be right now, without the Bella’s? And without… well, you.”
Chloe shrugs nonchalantly, but Beca feels her shoulders tighten. “I don’t know, Becs. I don’t tend to dwell on what ifs. I like the here and now.”
Beca smiles into the bottle. “Yeah, I mean, the here and now is pretty good.”
“Yeah?” Chloe smiles back. Her feet reach out, her toes tapping against Beca’s. “I think it’s pretty good too.”
-x-
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Go for it, dude.”
“I was… really nervous about tonight. Like, really nervous.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah. Totally skitzing it. I rang up Aubrey in a total panic. Luckily she knocked some sense into me. You know what she’s like.”
“…What did Aubrey say? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“She said get a grip Chloe, this is Beca Mitchell we’re talking about, she might think she’s God’s gift but she’s really not that special.”
“Geez. She doesn’t live and let die, does she?”
“No, no, but—she also said that out of everyone, she’d never seen anyone make me so happy, so you mustn’t be all bad. Mostly, but not all.”
“…I make you happy?”
“Of course you do, weirdo. Before you rolled into my life there was, like, a huge Beca-shaped hole in it. Only I didn’t realise it was Beca-shaped at the time, but if I had that would’ve been a really weird coincidence, right?”
“Huh. Yeah. Right.”
-x-
(It’s weird, because there’s always been a hole in Beca’s life too, and it’s the kind of hole that’s made her feel completely and utterly empty for so many years, and when Jesse didn’t fill it she thought there was something seriously wrong with her. But then Chloe—she slipped in so effortlessly Beca didn’t even realise, and it knocks her for six, because an actual person has made her feel actually complete for once in her turbulent life and it happened so naturally that it passed her by, passed her perfectly, and everything is suddenly right.)
-x-
They finish the night where it all started. On Chloe’s balcony.
The wine is long gone but Beca knows where Jessica hides her secret stash (in the gap behind the fridge, FYI, she’s really not that stupid, Jess) so she brings back two full bottles, drops one in Chloe’s lap. She has no idea where the rest of the girls are but there’s music, bassy and loud, coming from the Treble’s House—a party she’s missing out on, perhaps, not that she cares.
“I think I’ve realised something,” Beca says, plonking herself down next to Chloe, their knees touching. Chloe lifts her head up as if to say oh? “Yeah. I don’t think I actually hate dating.”
“Oh!” Chloe squeals excitedly, “Have I officially converted you?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Beca says, killing Chloe’s high with a grin when she looks like a wounded puppy, “No, it was great, I loved it. But—I’m thinking, maybe it wasn’t the dating I hated? Maybe it was the… company, I wasn’t happy with.”
Chloe grins quietly, staring down at her knees, where Beca’s hand rests on her own. Her fingers reach across, cover them, and Beca clings on like a lifeline. “What about now?”
“This company,” Beca says, raising their intertwined hands, studying them carefully like she’s working them out. She nods resolutely. “I think this company is kind of alright.”
It would be just wrong for Chloe not to lean across and kiss her.
-x-
“By the way, that picture you sent me was, like, smoking hot.”
“Oh, you liked it?”
“Chlo, Amy thought I was looking at porn, that’s how much I liked it.”
“Well… there’s plenty more where that came from.”
“There better be. You know I’m only dating you for sexy photos, right?”
“Yeah. Totally. I knew that was a given the minute I asked you out.”
“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page. It would be a bit embarrassing if we weren’t.”
“Good.”
“Awesome.”
“Cool.”
“…Should we kiss again?”
“That sounds like a great plan.”
“Awesome.”
#pitch perfect#pitch perfect fic#fanfiction#bechloe#bechloe fic#beca x chloe#beca mitchell#chloe beale
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