#on a scale of 1 to 10 how scary am i
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hello love!
i saw that you write yandere material and are looking for inspiration! so if you don’t mind I’d love to request some yandere headcanons for satan from om (๑>•̀๑)
a/n : heyyy !! thanks so much for requesting. It's a bit short, I hope you don't mind.
whisper to the trees ... (ask box status) : open
check my about me/request rules here
wc : 0.67k words
cws : dark content, mdni! suggestive asf, mentions of kidnapping (not on you), potential smut in the end?
song playing : prayer1 by april27
Yandere! Satan headcanons
On a scale of 1-10, from how scary Satan would be compared to other demons if they were a yandere, I'd make Satan a solid 5.
I am not like Keith Lee, and I can't give that much of a rating without being a little bit biased. So I'll just try to validate my opinion.
Let's start with the fact that this man is pretty much the concept of a person who does his homework. He knows what makes you feel disgusted and what tingles your stomach in lust.
May or may not have studied human anatomy just to use it to his advantage.
Aching from school? He's already massaging the part between your shoulder and neck that makes you feel good, albeit a bit ticklish.
Someone flirted with you at school? Satan kidnaps them, syringes a lethal amount of vitamin c underneath their tongue, and leaves them out on the streets. People say the poor student died from cardiac arrest.
You were a bit uncomfortable after hearing that one. You had just talked to that demon after all. Were you next? Your train of thought was interrupted as Satan ruffles your hair, telling you to be safe. You offer him a smile, and you nod. (He watches as you walk to RAD, shuffling the syringe between his index and middle finger)
Doesn't let you leave his room, and not in the "I captured you" way that you'd imagine. Of course you have to go to school and, do the occasional meet up with those outside (Solomon checking on you), he lightly gaslights you into staying with him for the majority of your stay within HOL. (Little do you know, he may or may not have pulled some strings for you to stay with him here. You aren't leaving hell, sorry.)
Lends you his clothes, in fact, kind of pressures you to wear it. It triggers something in him, a desire. He wants to be all yours, and you to be all his. Wearing a shirt or one of his turtle necks solidifies the fact that you reciprocate this.
He knows what he's doing is toxic and wrong, but he attempts to justify it. (He is going through a crisis within himself trying to validate his gaslighting and manipulating.)
He's incredibly sweet to you, and I mean incredibly. Buying you your favorite drinks, reading to you, all that.
Follows the sidewalk rule for his life, always peels your oranges and whatever fruit you want, and always attempts to keep his anger from bubbling out.
It rarely ever works though, as he is still the avatar of Wrath. Rage bubbles out, especially if something happens to you in particular. Lucifer scolding him? Fine. Mammon stealing his books? He'll get him later. But you going missing? (You were late by 2 minutes..) He was beginning to feel nauseous, his fist clenching. He gripped the book in front of him, trying to keep calm. The ticking of the clock seemingly became louder, and right as he was about to start ravaging his room, a soft hand laid on his lower back.
"Satan?" You say softly, trying to determine whether or not he was angry. He lets out a breath. You smelled so nice. A bit too nice. He turns around. The way that he looked at you now made it seem like he wasn't fuming and holding in his barely contained anger a few seconds ago.
"Hm?" A smile on his face. You couldn't tell what he was thinking of, but the way that he gripped your hand after you stopped holding his shoulder, he probably needed some comfort. (You were dead wrong, he was holding in a boner right then and there.)
You hugged him, patting his back.
"Are you angry?" You mutter quietly. He blinks, before hugging you back "No, no I am not." He takes a whiff of your scent. Sweet. He suddenly gripped your waist, eliciting a yelp from you.
He has decided. Instead of ravaging the room, he'll ravage you instead.
a/n : i leave that to your imagination. reminder i do write smut, so this can continue! My requests are open, so please do request if you have something in mind! Thanks for reading.
#obey me x reader#yandere obey me#yandere satan#yandere satan x reader#satan x reader#obey me#om#obey me shall we date#obey me satan#obey me shall we date x reader#om x reader#obey me satan x reader#｡･:*˚:✧｡elicir's abode
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Out of the scale of 1 to 10 which version/interpretations of angels look horrifying or majestic?
1. Bayonetta Angels
2. Evangelion Angels
3.Diablo Angels
4. Legion Angels
5. Night Vale Angels
6. Classical Biblically accurate angels
7. Angelerium Angels
Oh goodness Anon, what a question! Well I'll give you all my thoughts but I haven't engaged with all this media so a lot of my thoughts will just be based on what I see from a Google search.
Let's say on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 is most horrifying and 10 is most majestic.
Bayonetta Angels: these are so beautiful and intricate. I love all the gold and statue-like design elements. These seem more majestic than horrifying to me. 7/10
Evangelion Angels: these were a formative experience for my love for angels, so I'm biased. They're so varied it's hard to rate them, some tend to be more majestic and others more horrifying. But the lore pushes them overall into horrifying for me. 2/10
Diablo Angels: another formative experience. I love them a lot so I want to rank them at the top of everything always. But I think they are more majestic than horrifying. I am so in love with the tentacle wings that they have become friend-shaped to me, so the only other horrifying thing about them would be that they have no faces, which is rather low on the horrifying scale in my opinion. 8/10
Legion Angels: I haven't seen this movie but it's on my watchlist! And I've seen the bit where they scream all scary at the characters. Other than that they kinda seem like just guys with wings - which is fun, I do love some classic "guys with wings" angels even if I don't draw them often. But that puts them low on the horrifying scale compared to others I think. I suppose being person-shaped with wings makes them slightly more majestic than horrifying, that's the type of angel we see in classic art the most. 6/10
Night Vale Angels: I have yet to listen to Night Vale but I've seen fanart of them and they look really cool! The designs are definitely some of the best eldritch angels I've seen and are inspirational to me. There's so many interpretations that I'm not sure how to rate them fairly, so I will rate them equally on majestic and horrifying. 5/10
Classical Biblically Accurate Angels: this is a tough category to rate because it could to refer to so many things! I've read that the angels people usually think of as "biblically accurate" aren't even technically in the Bible. So I'll say this is referring to the Christian angelic hierarchy, which has a variety of angels in all sorts of shapes and roles. With the potential to be both horrifying and majestic, I will rate them equally as well. 5/10
Angelarium Angels: I'm a big fan of these designs! They definitely have some horrifying elements but they're also so beautiful that I think I have to rate them leaning toward the majestic side. 7/10
Well anyway those are all my thoughts and opinions, you might disagree of course and that's okay! I hope you had fun reading all this anyway :))
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An introduction to writeblr , from The Octic Scribe.
Hey all! I am the Octic scribe , or -O/Z for short, pleasure to meet you! Before you begin, im very dyslexic and that may come through, especially if I am writing on my phone. (no muscle memory)
I’m 24 and looking for writing friends , so here’s a little about me-
1- I am a religious studies student who part times as a scary clown in a suit - I’m dead serious right now –
2- I do sumi-e paintings although I seem to be , well, not very good yet.
3- I am a Buddhist! … that’s not quite right, I’m a perennial omnist who believes there is truth in all religions as they all contain knowledge from successive generations! They are all so cool! You know how cool and beautiful it can all be when not given to institutions? It’s the most heart stopping and enthralling thing to research. – but I mostly practice in the sphere of Buddhism.
4- And yes, I am a Percy Jackson kid, if that didn’t come through.
5- I have a cat named Cleo! Short for Cleopatra, short for CLEO BABY WHAT ARE YOU EATING! - Ill post a pic in a sec~
6- Gender- oh boy do I have my thoughts, but in short- I am an eldritch mass and so are you. The human experience cannot be confined to a binary scale, or in truth any taxonomic invention, and therefor-
7- Pronouns are whatever you are most comfortable with. Dead ass. Use what you want- fuck call me comrade I really don’t care.
8- I’m trans in at least one direction. Shout out to planed parenthood in the south for being here.
9- I’m an ex-Mormon! Yeah! Religious trauma! 10- im very new to tumblr, so yeah!
About my writing-
Introducing The Forgotten Throne, or TFT, a fantasy world with the soul of sci-fi. The premise of the world is that four deities creations are being tested, and the being on ariavita (the world of TFT) who claims all four deities thrones ascends to a deity themselves. However, after the the pact of the octogram the four sentinels burned all writings on the thrones. It is a world made for war that rejects its purpose.
With a hard magic system and 8 different fantasy races what’s not to love. There are no elves, dwarfs, ect. Instead, there are the formless yet shapeshifting arcana, the moth like Illuet, and many more.
My first novel in this universe is “Those Who Remember Are Lost” and I am 65 thousand words in! it follows a young watcher (winged beings that are related to humans) and his best friend as they leave there library/home to travel across the world for reasons the mysterious ALEA has not seen fit to tell the travelers. I will polish this more when school and work aren’t biting at me, but I wanted something for you all to know me with, so yeah!
Drink some water!!
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Psychomanteum / Chapter 1
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader
Chapter 1: Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Series Summary: You've recently taken on the customer-facing responsibilities of the small-scale cannabis bakery you and your late husband ran out of your apartment, which introduces you to occasional customer, Dieter Bravo. A friendship is sparked when you realize you have something in common: you've both died. What Dieter doesn't tell you about his near-death experience, though, is that it foretold his life with you.
Word Count: 6.2k+
Content / Warnings: alternating POV, death, sitting shiva, stitches / scars, cannabis, edibles, drug use, alcohol use, haunted mirrors, spooky stuff, verbal argument, face slap, cheating, sexual grieving, a dick named Glenn, meet cute
Notes: Chapter title from "Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us" by My Chemical Romance. Hey friends! I have a couple things right off the bat: (1) the reader has a name (Louella/Lou/Lua) and has scars and tattoos, but no other physical descriptors; (2) I'll be trying to release new chapters on Saturdays.
[ Tag List ] [ AO3 ] [ Title Song ]
When people ask what it’s like to die, you’re supposed to tell them it’s terrible, even though it isn't. Like leaving a shitty yelp review for a restaurant when you actually really loved the food, but you have a vendetta against the owner and their staff.
Death
Louella F.
Rating: 0/10
Scary as fuck. Not in a cool, vintage way like Bram Stoker’s Dracula, but in more of a can-you-believe-people-cream-their-pants-over-this-shit way like Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight. Ugh. They sent me away at the door and wouldn’t even tell me why. RUDE!!!! I would rather die than go back.
It’s only polite, after all. If everyone knew that it fucking rules to be dead, nobody would stay here in these decaying bodies, on this doomed fucking rock floating through space. So, when your good friends (like good good friends) ask, you give them the inside scoop.
Death
Louella F.
Rating: 10/10
The single most magical thing to happen to me during my existence in the mortal realm. Truly ethereal. I only had the 1 hour trial, and I wanted upgrade to the forever package, but my dad forced me to return to my meatbag (BOOO!). Can’t wait to do it again. Absolutely TO DIE FOR!!!
That’s why, now, when your just ok friend Kourtney comes over on the last day of sitting shiva in your apartment, and she asks you what was it like to die? in the same cadence she asks how's your mom?, you don’t tell her the truth.
You don’t tell her than every waking moment you’re alive now is torture because you don't understand why you weren’t allowed access to the club. Why could Ethan go, but not you? What could you possibly have left to do that doesn’t include him?
Instead, you give her a wane smile and joke, “Oh, ya know, I had better shit to do, so here I am.”
Her big sky blue eyes soften and her shoulders slump when you tell her this. Then she threads her blonde eyebrows together and gives a sympathetic frown, “Oh, honey.”
No matter how many times you try this line, everyone responds with pity. You need some new material. Kourtney wanders off into the kitchen before you can respond.
When you look around the living room from your vantage point on a sitting stool, you briefly notice that all of the other visitors are gravitating towards the kitchen, too. Then the opaque black stain that looks like a black hole in the middle of your otherwise pristinely white carpet catches your eye. You tilt your head as you study it, wondering how it can be so impossibly dark.
“Are you ready, Lou?” your father-in-law, Adam, asks you from across the room.
You lift your gaze and look around at the other sitters, realizing they're all staring at you expectantly.
“Yeah, yep,” you finally respond, then get to your feet. They follow suit.
After gathering their belongings, Ethan's immediate family crowds around your apartment's entryway to bid their farewells. His mom and dad tell you that they’ll call you in a few days to check in on you. You believe it. Unlike everyone else that promised you’d “talk soon,” Adam and Sarah mean it.
"If you need anything, and I mean anything at all, please don't hesitate to call us," Sarah tells you, then scoops you into a great big hug. When she pulls away, she holds you by the shoulders and stares at you with tears pooling in those brown eyes that break your fucking heart. You look away when you say goodbye.
Your stepson, Ben, literally scoffs when you tell him to call you if he wants to talk about it. Which is just like a 16-year old to do. When his mom is distracted, fussing over your stepdaughter, you try to level with Ben.
"Listen. I know. I know people just say that. My dad died when I was 16, too. It fucking sucks. And I get it. So if you wanna talk to someone who knows which shade of 'this fucking sucks' you're going through, I'm your guy."
This time when he responds, the snotty tone is gone. It's replaced by a morose veil over his eyes and he just nods, "Ok."
The 12-year old, Talia, saves your phone number and tells you she’ll send you snapchats.
Even though you iterate these comforting half-promises to communicate in the future, when you tell Ethan's kids you’d “talk soon,” you don’t mean it. They don’t, either. But that’s alright. You never thought the too-little-too-late maternal bonding would stick, anyway.
Once the last mourning visitor leaves, and door clicks shut, you deadbolt it, and you’re... alone. It's surreal. Moping around the silent apartment, you reorganize things to your liking, collect sitting stools, and tug the fabric off the mirrors. You're stunned momentarily after each reflection you unveil.
The person you see is a stranger. Your skin is very Bride of Frankenstein, stitched together with pieces of tattooed corpses. Just over a week ago, your body was twisted and mangled, but doctors slapped you back together in time to bury your husband. Briefly, you consider covering all of the mirrors again until you're farther along in the healing process, but decide against it. What the fuck does it matter, anyway.
For at least five minutes, you're anchored in front of the spare bedroom door, its key pinched tightly between your thumb and index finger. You locked it last week to keep nosy visitors from poking around during shiva. God only knows what kind of shit they would stumble upon, considering how out-of-control Ethan was towards the end. Not to mention the deep freezer filled with bulk amounts of flower and cannabutter.
There are two huge mirrors in the room that you want to uncover. But this room is- well, was- his space. On most days, he spent hours in there, isolating, listening to music, hanging out with friends, or whatever else. Not like you'd know, since it was just another club you weren't invited to join. A deep sense of foreboding infiltrated your psyche when you covered the damned things, and it somehow feels worse now.
A fuzzy, uncomfortable buzzing starts under your skin as you stare at the old brass door knob. You’re just about to say fuck it and try again later when something clatters from inside the room. Your hands work on their own accord. They slide the skeleton key into its slot, then turn the knob and push the door open. It swings back on its hinges with a groan and butts up against the doorstop with a thud.
The room is neat and clean, like it was a week ago, but you immediately notice two things that make your hair stand on end:
The picture frame
The mirrors
When moving into this apartment, Ethan insisted the 4x6” ceramic picture frame be transported on your lap from the dumpy apartment in Bushwick. His little brother, Benji, gave it to him for his birthday the summer before he fell through the ice. The photo depicts a 12-year old Ethan with his arm around his little brother’s shoulders, both smiling from ear-to-ear as they hold up the fish they caught off the dock of their childhood home in Eagle Bay, NY.
One bare nail stands erect on the navy blue wall. That’s where it was hanging when you locked the door last week. But now, the picture frame is propped up by the easel back in the middle of the shiny hardwood floor.
It doesn’t make sense.
On the westernmost and easternmost walls, the matching set of Regency era mirrors, which hang across from one another, are uncovered. Their intricate bevels are illuminated by the fading sun, casting shadows into the mahogany frames. The bedsheets you covered them with last week are crumpled on the floor beneath them.
“Why are you covering the mirrors?” you asked your great-grandma, watching her from the doorframe of your parents’ room with curiosity. Her paper-thin skin drooped over the hills and valleys of her hands, shifting over bones and blood vessels as she secured a white cotton bedsheet to the full-length mirror with clothespins.
“So his spirit doesn’t get trapped inside,” she explained simply.
You shake the memory from your head.
They’re just mirrors.
Ignoring every cell in your body that screams at you to get the fuck out, you take a few cautious steps forward, then pick the picture frame up off the ground. The pad of your thumb rubs against the smooth finish of the white ceramic. An ache radiates across your chest as you stare at the young boys with their matching smiles, backdropped by tall pines and open waters. Suspended in time, happy and carefree in their favorite place.
Now they’re both fucking dead.
The urge to cry tingles at the back of your throat. You look up at the bare nail sticking out of the wall across the room and march towards it. A shiver of warning runs down your spine as you walk past the antique mirrors. You mount the frame on the wall in its place.
But then you’re frozen.
Spiders are crawling around inside your spinal column, spinning webs, exploring every inch. And, it’s fucking insane, just childhood memories fucking with your head, but you swear you feel eyes on your back. A shudder racks your body. You look straight down at your feet, holding all of your concentration steady on them as you turn around towards the door.
The buzzing in your bones intensifies. Instinct engrained in the folds of your brain for a millennia, since homo sapiens were hunters and gatherers, urges you to look up look up look up because someone is watching you. Hunting you.
Fighting your seized muscles, you make yourself take one step forward.
Adrenaline floods your bloodstream and spurs you into action without thought. Your feet carry you past the mirrors, out of the room. The spiders mobilize, scurrying inside your spine, making you nauseous. As your trembling hands fumble with the doorknob, your eyes betray you.
They flick to the westernmost mirror.
And just barely… you think you see someone staring back at you.
“What is this?” Anika’s Bulgarian accent is the first thing Dieter hears as she shakes him out of sleep. His response is to roll away from the nuisance and pull the white duvet over his head. She jumps off of the bed and yanks the blanket away from him in a series of furious tugs as she hisses, “No. No sleep. Get up.”
When she succeeds in retrieving the whole blanket, she throws it on the floor by her feet, exposing Dieter's naked body to the megawatt afternoon sun. The intrusion sets him off, and he groans, pinching his nose in response to the headache throbbing in his eyes and nose, “Fuckin’ a, Annie, what?”
Sitting up, eyes still closed, he grumbles, “What could be so fucking important-“ he cracks open an eye, throwing his palm down against the mattress in frustration, then sees the headline displayed the iPhone she's holding in front of his face.
LEAKED: DIETER BRAVO PARTYING WITH INSTAGRAM MODEL
He squints as he reads it again, then snatches the phone away, scrolling through the short article on the tabloid magazine DIRT’s website.
The Cliff Beasts 6 star, Dieter Bravo, was spotted with Instagram model, Lilly Stokes, getting hot-and-heavy at several LA nightclubs late last night. Reportedly, the duo were heavily intoxicated, seen taking shots and snorting lines of illicit substances. In the photos obtained by DIRT, the disheveled Bravo, sporting a half-buttoned floral shirt and jeans, can be seen groping Stokes, dressed in a hot pink slip dress and stilettos, as she straddles the actor in a roped-off section of Aspect’s VIP lounge.
This scandal is surfacing amid rumors of Bravo’s marriage with Anika Bravo being strained to the breaking point. Dieter and Anika met in 2020 during the filming of Cliff Beasts 6, a film made infamous by the hit documentary Beasts of the Bubble. The couple tied the knot in 2021, immediately following their escape from Clifton Hotel.
In one of their only public appearances together, the newlywed couple raised eyebrows when they brought fitness guru Kate Ridley with as their date to the Beasts of the Bubble premiere. Since then, the Academy Award winning actor has been under fire for alleged infidelity and drug abuse, as well as displaying bizarre behavior, such as his appearance on The View in September, when he told host Meghan McCain that he “hopes hell is real so (her) dad burns there forever.”
As promised, the article includes a slideshow of photos depicting him and Lilly making out in a booth at Aspect the previous night. Dieter tosses the phone to the side, and all he can do is shrug, staring up at her with cold eyes, “Whaddya wanna know?”
They sit here like this for a beat, frozen in their stubbornness. As if he doesn’t know the question on her mind.
She blinks, swallows hard, and crosses her arms in front of her body. Then finally breaks and asks, “Is it true?”
As if she doesn’t know the answer.
He grinds his jaw back and forth, considering the consequences of what he’ll say next. She stares at him.
Fuck it.
“Yeah,” he admits to his wife, averting his gaze as he runs his fingers through his hair, “Yeah I fucked her.”
Anika rears back, then slaps him across the face, gritting her teeth together as she growls, “FUCK YOU!”
His cheek stings as her palm jerks his head to the side. He deserves that.
Sure, he could have lied, but there’s no use in denying it. There he was, caught on camera with Lilly's tongue down his throat and his hands up her dress. From there, they stumbled into the bathroom of the club. He gave the bathroom attendant $200 to guard the door. Then, he snorted coke off her perfect tits, bent her over the granite top sink, and fucked her speechless.
The bathroom attendant won’t be speechless, though. Dieter is sure that for another $200 from any number of tabloids, the gangly, pasty skinned kid would unzip his rubber band lips and tell all.
"Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do, Annie!? You won't fucking touch me!" the cords of his neck stick out as he leans forward barks this into her face.
"Don't deserve to be touched," she spits, narrowing her eyes as she inches so close he can feel her breathe, "Leave me alone all the time. Do you know how lonely I am, Dieter? What kind of man leaves me alone all the time?"
"Fucking AGAIN with this. Really? Every fucking time I come home, it's all I hear," Dieter stands up out of bed and stomps over to the closet, Anika hot on his trail. He starts mocking her, using an exaggerated Bulgarian accent, "Oh I'm so sad, you leave me alone in this big house with all this money, oh nooo!," then he turns on his heel to scoff in her face, "Get over it, for fuck's sake. It's tired."
Her shoulders sag. He knows he went to far. He’s being mean. Cruel, even. But he can't stop. His father’s anger, flooding from his hindbrain through his mouth.
"It's how I feel, Dieter," she squeaks, big brown eyes filling with tears. He starts digging through drawers of the built-in dresser for boxer briefs, then stuffs his legs into a pair. She sobs, "I didn't know it would be like this. So lonely."
"Yeah?! Welcome to my FUCKIN' LIFE!" he screams into her face, then rips a shirt off the hanger and pulls it over his head before storming off.
You sink down into your purple velvet couch and turn on the TV. Fresh-out-the-shower damp hair sticks to your cheek when you rest your head on a black and white checkered pillow. In an attempt to take your mind off what you thought you saw in the spare bedroom earlier, you flip through various streaming services for a distraction. However, your attention is drawn to the shiva candle dwindling down on the fireplace mantle.
Each time it flickers, dread seizes your heart. You hold your breath and watch it, unblinking, until it steadies.
It happens again.
And again.
Your eyes flit to the opaque black ink stain in the middle of your carpet, only for a moment. But it's long enough. When you look back to the candle, the flame is gone. Black smoke curls and dances in celebration around a glowing orange wick.
He’s gone.
This fact creeps into your consciousness slowly, but surely. The same way the cold settles into your bones when the temperature is below freezing. It starts off fine, maybe a little brisk, but manageable. Then your nose, fingers, and toes start to feel frosty. Before you know it, you can't stop shivering, and can't even remember what warmth felt like.
Hugging your knees to your chest, you squeeze every ounce of oxygen from your lungs. Your brain prompts you to inhale. The breath comes as a shattered gasp, and your chest heaves, but the well of pain is too far underground. The tears don't come. You’re unable to tap into it and release the pressure that's been building for nine days. You're about to fucking explode.
Your gaze shifts to the window. It’s dark outside. You try to decide who to reach out to for support. Each person you consider would come over and sit with you as they awkwardly make conversation. They would probably try to talk to you about Ethan, or tell you about how their friend’s cousin had a husband croak on them and they did abc, then xyz, and voilà! They’re cured!
And you just can’t with that shit right now. You don’t want to be pitied. You want to have a normal conversation. One where you aren’t expected to cry and talk about it. You want to be how you were before.
How you were before, but without him.
“Whiskey neat,” Dieter tells the bartender without looking his way.
When he glances up into the mirror behind the bar, he sees the version of himself that Anika hates the most. Mop of curly brown hair stuffed under a baseball cap, sunglasses covering half his face, wearing sweatpants and whatever t-shirt he happened to pull off the hanger before heading out the door.
“Airport Dee,” her lip would curl up and touch the columella of her nose, “I don’t like him.”
“Airport Dee means Working Dee, which is better than Broke Dee, right?” he would try to reason, meeting her eyes over his sunglasses, tugging her closer for a kiss goodbye.
She would arch a brow and back away from him, her sneer firmly in place, “I like Home Dee the most.”
The last few times he left, he didn’t even say goodbye. He thinks that maybe Airport Dee isn’t the version of him she hates the most anymore.
His phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pants pocket to see the text from his wife.
> ANNIEBABY:
> If u get on the flight, we’re done
An amused laugh trickles from his throat. The bartender, a handsome, tall, blonde man with terrific posture, slides a coaster in front of Dieter, then places the lowball glass on top of it. Just in time. Dieter picks it up and swallows it in one go, then tells the bartender, who’s foolishly walking away, “Another.”
The bartender turns on his heel and raises a well-kept eyebrow at Dieter, who responds by reaching into his wallet and slamming a $100 bill onto the bar, advising, “This is your tip if you keep ‘em coming and don’t fucking look at me like that again.”
“You got it, boss,” the man responds as he grabs a bottle of bourbon and flips it upside down over Dieter’s cup.
The phone starts buzzing again, but this time it’s his publicist. He picks up with a cheeky, “Darlene, it’s been ages, what in the world could you possibly be calling me about?”
“Just wanted to call and let you know you’re making my life a living fucking hell today,” she volleys the same faux-sweetness back to him.
“Welcome to the club,” he mumbles.
“How’s your wife?”
“Terrible, she’s leaving me,” Dieter drops this bomb, then tells her, “Hey, I’m boarding a flight for the, uhh- the screen test thing, I’ll call you later.”
“Dieter, don’t you fu-“
He hangs up and puts his phone in airplane mode. Morphine was such a good idea.
Instead of the all-consuming anxiety that typically accompanies one’s name trending on Twitter, all Dieter feels is an overwhelming sense of fuck it. That’s what morphine is good for, after all. Not for all the time, though. Just emergencies.
He imagines a bottle of MS Contin but instead of the prescription label it just reads EMERGENCY OBLIVION.
“Having a rough day?” the bartender asks, looking from the discarded phone to Dieter’s smiling face as he leans against the bar.
Dieter giggles and shakes his head, “Fuck off, you don’t care.”
“I- I care,” the bartender frowns, then pushes off and stands up straight.
“You don’t. Not really. You’re just nosy,” Dieter grins with a shrug.
He downs the whiskey, slams the cup against the bartop, then points to it. The bartender refills the cup and fucks off. Dieter sighs with satisfaction and floats into the abyss.
About mid-way through your third vodka cranberry, you start to feel more comfortable in your skin.
A short-statured man hangs his winter coat on the back of the barstool next to you and sits down. A green knit cap hides any indication of hair on top of his head, although a trimmed beard hints that it'll be dark brown if he has any. When he looks your direction through thick rimmed glasses frames, you meet his honey brown eyes and you smile.
Granted, it’s not a smile you really mean, but he’s cute and he sat right next to you at a bar that has plenty of other open seats, so, you’ll play the part.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” he inquires, gaze trailing up and down your form.
You shake your head, “Not at all.”
“Thanks,” he gives you a wide smile, then flags down the bartender and orders a drink.
You sit back and look up to the flatscreen TV playing the Knicks game, pretending to care, watching the teams dribble a basketball from one side of the court to the other. Back and forth, back and forth. It seems so fucking pointless.
“You a Knicks fan?” he asks, following your line of sight to the TV.
“Hmm?” you blink, then realize you are furrowing your brow up at the game as if you’re interested, “Oh, no. I don’t give a shit.”
This makes him laugh. He shows you those pearly whites again, then extends his hand to you, “I’m Dante.”
“Louella,” your hand meets his. It’s warm and sandpapery. His thumb rubs against the back of your hand as you shake.
You ponder what this stranger’s hands would feel like on other parts of your body. What it would feel like to forget, just for a while, that Ethan’s hands were the last ones to touch you. What it would feel like to forget that he’ll never touch you again.
“That’s a really pretty name,” he comments, not letting go of your hand, not ceasing the movement of his thumb on your skin. A tingle trickles down the middle of you and produces goosebumps across your flesh.
It’s the only enjoyable sensation that has managed to rise above the soul-crushing emptiness of the past week and a half. Your skin aches and yearns for more.
You try to stretch your smile wide and make your eyes sparkle as if you’ve never heard that before, “Thank you, Dante.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” he lets go, then leans forward against the bar.
Your eyes flick from his thick lips to his honey brown eyes and you nod.
“Dieter fucking Bravo!” Glenn hollers at his longtime friend as Dieter approaches the well-dressed table.
Friend might not be the right word. Enabler is probably closer to the truth. His nasally voice booms across the dining room, earning a few disgruntled stares from the highbrow patrons expecting a quiet lunch on the Upper East Side.
Dieter offers a nod in the general direction of the outburst, then pulls out the chair perpendicular to Glenn and plops down, picking up the menu as he scoots in his seat.
A peeved, but incredibly handsome, waiter comes to the table and pours ice water in a glass for the new arrival, “Welcome, sir. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Whiskey neat,” Dieter answers, then dismisses the waiter's presence as he glances around the room through tortoiseshell Ray-Bans and tells Glenn, “You finally got your wish. Anika is filing for divorce.”
“About fucking time,” Glenn guffaws and claps his hands together, “Was it the thing with the uh, what’s that broad’s name, Bailey?”
“Lilly,” Dieter corrects.
“Lilly,” Glenn repeats, “Irregardless, congratulations, my friend. Welcome to the divorcee club!”
Dieter’s face scrunches up in disdain at the enthusiasm as he mutters sarcastically, “It’s an honor.”
“We should celebrate,” Glenn winks.
He knows Glenn well enough to know that "celebrate" means "go on an alcohol and drug binge so outrageous, you'll be trying to chase that high for a year." And, fuck, that sounds like a slice of heaven. The last time he "celebrated" with Glenn was pre-COVID. They were awake for 2-days straight, going to nightclubs, stripclubs, country clubs, whatever. It was a blast.
He thinks it was, at least.
“I don’t have to go back to the studio ‘til Wednesday, so I’m game,” Dieter gives a small grin, then rubs his hands together.
The waiter returns with Dieter’s drink and takes their order, then talk of celebrating recommences. Glenn leans over, trying to be as discreet as his voice can manage, “What kind of stuff ya looking for?”
Dieter ponders this, leaning back in his chair as he rolls head on his shoulders and sips his drink. The first thing that comes to mind are these "special" baked goods he gets sometimes when he’s in New York. The guy hand delivers them, and they were better than any pastries he’s eaten otherwise, “straight” or not.
“Doesn’t matter. I just want to get out of my fuckin' head. I’m gonna see if I can get some of those edibles we got last time. The pastries, what’re they called?” Dieter snaps his fingers together trying to jog his memory.
“Cookies?”
Dieter scoffs and shakes his head, “You think I don’t know what a fucking cookie is? No, it was like a donut.”
“Like a…” Glenn screws his face up and shrugs, then takes a sip of his old fashioned, “Like a long john?”
Idiot. Dieter pulls out his phone, clearing notifications from the Lock Screen from his lawyer, Darlene, and Anika, then sends a text message to Ethan.
< ME:
< In NYC. Want what I got last time, can u do that?
“I texted the guy,” Dieter advises, then briefly looks at the last message he received from Anika.
> ANNIEBABY:
> My father was right about u
He ignores the sharp stab in his chest at this remark, remembering how hard it was to convince her dad that he wasn’t a piece of shit. Just as he’s about to hide his phone again, it buzzes.
> ETHAN NYC:
> Idk what you got last time. $150/ dozen pastries. $100/ 2 dozen cookies. $50/ 4 brownies. Have to pick up here now FYI, in downtown Brooklyn.
< ME:
< Ok. Surprise me. 12 pastries, 24 cookies, 12 brownies.
> ETHAN NYC:
> You got it. Should be ready by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll text you the address when they’re ready.
“Alright, edibles won’t be ready 'til tomorrow, but it’ll be worth the wait,” Dieter announces to Glenn, who’s also fucking around on his phone.
Glenn nods, then looks up around the room and back to Dieter, leaning in as he asks, “So you wanna go do a few lines in the bathroom, or what?”
Once the second-to-last order has been picked up, you pour yourself a glass of wine. It's noon, which you consider a socially acceptable time to start drinking.
You turn the stereo on and start prepping for the next day while you sip wine and sing along to the music on your baking playlist. Aside from getting fucked by Dante in the bar bathroom the other night, baking is the only thing that has taken your mind off of the fact that Ethan is dead.
It's the stupid little things you wouldn't have expected that sting the most.
His prescription refill reminders dinging on your phone. Leftover takeout from the day before the accident starting to emit an unacceptable odor. A package arriving yesterday from something he ordered online. You stare at the nondescript cardboard box now, as it sits next to the stack of outgoing pastry boxes, and wonder what's inside.
All of these things and the deep ache they cultivate... but you still haven't cried. Everything feels so far away, like it's not real. Is this normal? Are you broken?
You swallow the remaining wine in your glass and refill it.
There’s a buzz on the intercom. You pad over to the screaming box, holding your wine glass by the stem as you press the DOOR button.
A knock sounds on the door a minute later, so you turn the stereo down from a roar to a murmur. You open the door to reveal a broad, relatively tall, tan-skinned man. Pillowy lips fold in a frown and he narrows his dark eyes at you. His age shows in the creases of his face and the sparse grays in his patchy facial hair.
“Hi,” you greet the unrefined, but notably handsome, stranger, “Come on in.”
He does so cautiously, furrowing his brow with confusion as he peers around the apartment like a frightened animal, and you explain for the 8th time today while extending your hand to him, “I’m Louella. I’m Ethan’s wife.”
“Dieter,” he meets your hand and shakes it, avoiding eye contact. When he turns his head to the side to examine your kitchen, you catch a glimpse of his profile and feel the urge to run a finger down the center of his aquiline nose.
“Ohhh!” you exclaim as your face heats up, “DEE-ter! Not DIET-er. It’s your name! That makes sense.”
He runs a hand through his mess of curly brown hair, “Yeah.”
When he does this, his knit sweater pulls up over the waistband of his jeans and exposes his bellybutton. Your eyes fall on the soft section of his broad body and you suddenly can’t tell if your mouth is dry, or if you’re drooling, but you swallow hard, and- is it fucking hot in here?
“Sorry,” you shake your head and feel the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck as you make your way over to the kitchen counter, “I just, um, I haven’t really met any of our clients in person. I thought maybe you were someone on a diet? I don’t know. Ethan had all kinds of weird fucking code names for people.”
“I didn’t know Ethan was married,” Dieter comments as he pinches one nostril closed and sniffs, then rolls the sleeves on his sweater up to his elbows. His jaw is clenched like he’s grinding his teeth. He’s practically fucking vibrating.
This dude is coked the fuck up.
“Technically, he’s not anymore, because he’s dead,” you nod, then clear your throat and try to move on to the next subject as you fidget with your apron, “But yeah, I’ve always done the baking, so it’ll be just as good. I just can’t drive. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
His head jerks back and he unleashes a booming, bright laugh that brings an actual smile to your face, “Did you… did you just yadda yadda the fact that he’s dead?”
“Mhmm, yeah,” you laugh nervously. Your entire head is lit ablaze up now as your attention is drawn to his gorgeous smile, “This is like the tenth time I’ve done this today, I’m a little desensitized to it.”
His cheeriness disintegrates as he realizes he's laughing about your recently deceased spouse.
“I’m-“ Dieter’s mouth gapes open and he tries to generate a response. You meet his glossy eyes, and notice now that his pupils are blown out so wide over the dark brown irises, they appear black. They remind you of Ethan. The black ink stain on your carpet.
And they’re filled to the brim with that annoying fucking look. Pity.
“Don’t- don’t say you’re sorry,” you sigh, real smile waning into one that’s painfully forced, then gesture to the stack of boxes on the counter, “Just pay me and you can be on your way.”
Dieter climbs into the backseat and sets the pastry boxes between himself and Glenn. He can’t shake the puzzled look from his face. Glenn lifts the cover off one of the boxes and grabs a brownie as the driver starts off down the street.
“What?” Glenn asks with a mouth still full of brownie. His dilated eyes search Dieter’s face, narrowing with suspicion.
Dieter frowns as he scratches the scruff on his chin, then snaps his head back and forth, cracking his neck, “That was weird.”
“Why? Did he hit on you or something?” Glenn’s words form around the food in his mouth. Dieter’s lip curls in disdain at the homophobic implication. He swears Glenn forgets that Dieter is not straight sometimes.
“No,” he scoffs and turns to dig a pastry out of the box in spite of the cocaine buzzing through his veins, suppressing his appetite.
When he bites into it, he finds it’s exactly the one he was trying to think of yesterday. Apple Danish. His shoulders wiggle and he groans in delight as the flaky crust gives way to apple filling inside. He swallows and clears his throat, “No, it wasn’t even him, it was his wife. The guy died.”
“She hot?” Glenn asks, not looking up from his examination of the remaining brownie.
Dieter nods as he chews, raising his eyebrows to indicate fuck yeah.
“How’d he die?” Glenn questions. His eyes are flicking all around the backseat of the town car, knee bouncing at lightspeed to spend some of his amplified, god-like energy. Dieter can tell he does not give one single fuck, he just wants to move his mouth.
“Didn’t ask,” Dieter takes another bite and throws his head back, groaning “Fuck, that’s good.”
Glenn shoves the rest of the brownie into his cavernous mouth and nods in agreement, “Good call.”
“But, she just casually mentioned that he died,” Dieter shakes his head and swallows the pastry.
“Weird,” Glenn comments in a disinterested tone as he grabs for a bottle of champagne waiting in an ice bucket by his feet.
Dieter licks his fingers and shakes his head again, “That’s not the weird part.”
“Then what the fuck is the weird part?” Glenn snips, growing impatient, all red-hot edges, fueled by cocaine and alcohol.
It wasn’t the off-putting way you spoke about your husband’s death. Or your apartment filled with a haze of loneliness so palpable it felt like someone was squeezing Dieter's heart.
Glenn wipes the brownie crumbs off his hands onto the seat of the car, then passes two champagne flutes to Dieter, who pops the last bite of Apple Danish into his mouth and takes the glasses. The unmistakable champagne POP! makes both the men flinch. Glenn fills both of the glasses that are shaking in Dieter’s unsteady grip. A substantial amount overflows onto the floor of the vehicle.
Dieter takes a swig of the bubbly, then explains, “When I OD’d, before they revived me, I saw her. It was like a memory, man. But it wasn’t, because it didn’t happen yet.”
He thought maybe the wires got crossed with someone else and he got the wrong memory. Fuck, he doesn’t know how it works. In the moments of clarity during his near-death experience, he knew, somehow, that he was seeing the future. His future. Each time he looked back on the experience, though, he grew more unsure.
But you opened that door into your apartment, and it was like déjà vu. High ceilings, purple crushed velvet couch in the living room that reminded him of Prince, pastry boxes stacked on the white granite countertop in the kitchen that looked made for a chef. It smelled like vanilla and pastry crust.
Louella. One of your bare arms looked torn to shreds, tattoos once cohesive now crudely pasted back together, ribbed with newly formed scar tissue. Your smile, the real one, occupied your whole face.
"Weird," Glenn responds. He's scrolling through Twitter on his phone, not even listening.
There was more, though.
Waking up in your bed, morning light spilling onto the two of you like a spotlight, his fingers tracing the map of scars up your leg.
Holding your hand while walking down the icy, snow-dusted sidewalk outside your apartment building.
Kissing you in front of an ordained minister, cheers erupting from the crowd of spectators.
Louella. Who the fuck are you?
[ Next Chapter ]
#dieter bravo x f!reader#dieter bravo x fem!reader#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo#pedrostories#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal characters#psychomanteum
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hi, i bought your comic "twigs" and loved it, i was wondering if you had any willingness to share the process of making it?
im an artist whos trying to start doing comics but i find the idea of starting a larger scale comic (such as kingfisher) wildly intimidating in terms of art direction. im trying to start small, such as a 30 page comic (ive done 5-10 page comics before) but i still find the art direction so scary lol
(Oh god this sent is was much longer ago than I thought I'm so sorry I took so long)
First off, thank you so much! I'm glad you liked Twigs, it's a project that still holds special place in my heart.
Okay, SO- the Twigs you know today was made originally for Shortbox, a digital comic fair for debuting short comics.
The concept of what would become Twigs was one developing in my brain for a while. Or, rather, the concept of a changeling trying to figure out where they belong after the person they were meant to replace comes home. At that point though, the changeling was just a cute fairy boy, because who wouldn’t want that. It was playing with the idea of choosing your own family and where you belong. But it was only a vague half idea, I didn’t really have a good sense of how long it could be or even what the point was. I remember musing that it was a story that I would probably never make. These are the only sketches I made for it.
It wasn’t till I remembered another variant of the changeling, one where the creature was just an enchanted bale of hay or twigs and thrown into the fire once they’re discovered. I wondered what it was like to realize that you are in fact completely disposable, destined to fall apart and be forgotten. I thought this was far too depressing of a concept and that I would never use it.
If you’ve read the story, then you know that I changed my mind. The idea just stuck around in my brain too much, it gave such a bittersweetness to the story. It was then the story began to come together. I ended up writing the whole first draft of the outline in a phone-tapping frenzy at 1 am. It's almost stream of conscious prose, where I write out how I imagine the scene going. I'm a very visual thinker.
You mostly asked this in terms of how I figured things out visually. Something that helped me out when I first started was making a pinterest board. It was very useful to put together a visual library to help gestate my ideas and vision for the story.
The inspiration of the witch was the folk tale character Baba Yaga, so that was a starting place for her and, since her home is an extension of her, figuring out the cottage. Down to earth, practical, with an agelessness to them. The Witch doesn't share her home with others so everything in it is suited to her. But it's also warm and cozy, since the cottage serves as a safe space for the characters to talk and rest. Getting reference photos helped a lot in imagining the home and making it feel lived-in.
You can also see me finding a couple of photos that helped my picture the character Tristan and his big feather cloak and other illustrations/photos reflect the world I wanted to create. A dark ancient setting with strangeness and sense of whimsy. Like a sad fairytale.
Don't be afraid to look at movies, books, paintings, etc when finding visual inspiration! For another project, a colored comic based in the Salem Witch trials, I was taking screenshots from the movie VVitch to copy the palette lol. Be a scavenger! Do studies! Take pieces of everything around you to make something unique!
After that, I admit, a lot of it was a lot of sketching, Drawing out ideas, figuring out vibes, I took a pen to cheap sketchbook and just brainstormed. This is how I often bang out design- just keep drawing them until it feels right. It feels a bit like carving away at clay to find the statue underneath. I like designing with a pen because it keeps me from getting too precious with the drawings. These sketches are meant for exploring, not for drawing anything nice yet.
(I know there was a lot more than this but I can't find those files now rip)
I also say- you don't have to figure everything out before you start drawing. It's great to get used to drawing your characters and maybe a blue layout of certain rooms, but it's not 100% needed.
I've seen comic artists obsess over perfecting character sheets and concept art and never actually starting the comic. I've never made a character sheet unless a job demanded I did.
I'm sure there is some pithy quote here I could use, but I find so much of comics to be improv based on what a scene needs lol. If the characters go to the other side of a room that I didn't design, I will probably just find a decent reference (thank you pinterest) sketch it out, and use that.
This really is a great representation of my process 80% of the time.
Whew that ended up being long lol. Sorry about that. But I hope it was helpful at all!
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Soooo on a scale from 1 to 10 how scary and villain-y would you say I am right now? Anything I could do to up my game?
- @therealwormhole-official
eh, depends on ur abilities
on appearance, considering my experience with ultra wormholes, you'd get an 8/10
#spinarak man#pkmn irl#pokemon irl#pokeblogging#pokemon#pokemon roleplay#pokemon rp#real pokemon#rotomblr
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For the Scientific-based Tickle Prompts!
what do you think of 18 with lee mikey or leo and ler donnie
ROTTMNT prompt: “On a scale of 1-10, how much-stop laughing i’m asking a question- how much does this tickle?”
Ler Donnie and Lee Mikey
(Here's the prompt list, please feel free to send some more!)
_._._
Mikey was used to being called into Donnie's lab. He was the only one that kinda got it. Leo and Raph both got too bored sitting around in the lab while Donnie worked, seemingly ignoring them. They had yet to figure out the hack!
Mikey would just do his own sketching and art too. Both of them working separately together. There was no pressure to talk or be polite. Just a way get lost inside his own ideas alongside someone else. Since he had done that enough times now, it was the usual for Donnie to invite Mikey to the lab to test something or go scavenging together.
And he had been called in earlier today.
He was greeted by the usual scene of Donnie frantically running around with some scary looking machinery in his hands. "Yo Don!" Mikey cheered as he happily dumped all his chewed up copics on the floor next to the beanbag that he moved into the lab.
"No time for art, Michael!" Donnie cheered with a smile that was slightly too unhinged to be wholly sincere, "I need a test subject."
"Sure!" He chirped.
Donnie pulled him to the centre of the lab before pulling out this skeletal looking frame. "Arms up!"
Mikey obeyed and tried to control his flinching as Donnie had to attach the metal framing along the lip of his shell and down his legs. His older brother's hands gently yet firmly skirting along his sides was a llittle embarrassing. It was held down by these soft straps.
The frame was made from these thick metal poles that sat across some of his most ticklish spots, along the edge of his shell and pressing against the back of his thighs and knees. Mikey definitely caught sight of Donnie's evil scientist smirk which told him that this was on purpose.
"Uhhh, can I ask what this is about?"
Donnie cackled the word cackle out loud, "Oh little brother. Don't you think that Leo has been getting a little too big for his shoes. His recent behaviour indicating he mayhaps needs to be taken down a peg."
"Wait!" Mikey realised, "Is this about the fact that he tickled you so hard you cried the other day?"
Donnie stared at him. "No."
Mikey grinned. "Are ya suuuuuure?"
Donnie's face flushed. "I need the perfect way to show him his place. Below me. So I need you to test this tickle machine I designed?"
"Wait, a wha- AAAAARGH!"
Donnie switched a flick and the frame came to life. The frame gently buzzed and was tied loose enough for it to wiggle and jolt along with his movements. He squealed as his sides tingled with the unrelenting tickle.
"HAAAA! HHAHAHAHAAAAA!"
"Now this isn't going to be a perfect test since you and Nardo have different tickle spots. Leo is pretty much a living tickle spot, but his legs are very ticklish. But I couldn't figure out-"
"DOHOHOHOHON DON! HAHAHAAAAAAA! AAAAAAH HAHAHA!" Mikey tried to grab for the desk as his knees gave way in his ticklish weakness.
"Shush, Michael. I'll need your feedback later. I couldn't figure out a way to have the frame reach his inner thigh and also the back of his knees. But I still think this could be effective."
Mikey wiped away the tears beading at his eyes. He wobbily reached a hand out like Donnie would save him.
Don slapped away his hand like he was being annoying. "So now I am going to ask for your feedback."
Mikey's feedback was that it tickled. The buzzing was so unlike the tickling squeezes and spidering of his siblings. An unusual tickle that seemed to fill his brain. The laughter kept coming and coming. It probably looked like he was dancing from how violently he was flinching to escape the endless maddening tickle across his sides.
"On a scale of 1 to 10, with one being not at all and ten being I'm going to die, how much does this tickle? Like in general."
Donnie could barely be heard over Mikey's squealing as he fell on to his plaston and therefore pushed the frame more into his stomach. "HAHAHA! HA! HA! AAAAAAARGHAHA! A LOHOT? HAHA! HA! DON! I-I CAHAN'T DO THIHIHIHIHI HAHAHAHAAHAAA!"
“On a scale of 1-10, how much-stop laughing i’m asking a question- how much does this tickle? How much does it tickle on your legs? Would this, oh just off the top of my head, would this be enough to make Leo cry from laughing?"
"HAHAHAA!"
But if anything, Mikey was a good lab assistant.
"HAHA! AAAAH! HAHAAA! L-LIKE AN HAAHAA EIGHT! HAHAHAAAA! THE HAH THE... hehehHIIHHAHAAA! THE PADS ON THE KNEEEHEHAHAHAAAAAAA KNEES ARE A NICE TOUCH HAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!"
Donnie pulled out his clipboard to frantically note this down.
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Celebrity Crush || Interviews Day 1
Paring: Joseph Quinn x Original female costar
Word Count: 2134
Summary: It’s the first day of many for season 4 interviews
Warnings: cute interactions
A/N: For this I’ll be using my OFC in Trouble in Hawkins for this OFC to play her.
Last: Premiere | Next: Theories & More
"Look who's last to show up." Maya says as I walk into the room. "There were some problems with the car." I take my seat between her and Natalia. "Presley is always last to show up." Joe says making me turn to look back at him, "I am not!" I slap his knee. "Sometimes..." Joseph adds making me turn the other way to look back at him. "You know what... I may be last but I'm still always on time. I've never been late." I turn back around to face the front. "That's a fair point." Natalia gives me a pass. Before the long interviews start, the five of us just sit on our phones bored.
Joseph:
You just had to wear green pants too.
I look back at him and realized he was wearing green pants as well.
Presley:
I look better.
I send him the text and he lets out a chuckle before we're told it's time to get ready. The first question was about Maya and Natalia working together since last season they had no scenes of them together really. "Joe, Steve's storyline in the first few episodes is about him trying to figure out his own love life. I'm curious what you think Steve needs?" The guys asks him so I look back some to look at him. "A swift kick in the butt." He says making us laugh. "He literally has the perfect girl in front of him and he messed it up and needs to fix it." He answers. He then asks Joseph what was it like jumping into the show and he tells him it was great because he felt comfortable with us. "What can you guys tell me about the big bad this season, Vecna?" The asks us. "Sexy." Maya says making me cover my mouth from laughing too loud. "He's not good." Joe adds. "Cruel with how he kills." I add and the others agree.
We have a few minutes before the next person so I get a drink of water. "I think I actually pull off the green pants better." Joseph walks up beside me. "What makes you think that though?" I tilt my head looking at him. "People can actually see my pants on camera not you. So that means I look better." He gives me a smile. "It doesn't work that way." We go back to our seats for the next interview. "Who always nails it in the first take?" The man asks us. "Priah, Gaten and Presley." They all say so I agree with them. "Who is the last one to always leave their trailer?" I point back again the Joe's. "Wig and something else." I say and they agree. "Oh right, yeah." Joe nods his head. Slowly I start to zone out but still listen to the man just nodding my head. "Yeah, we do laugh a lot." I agree with Maya. "Presley, usually starts the fun with Gaten." Joe adds.
The next lady asks on a scale 1-10 how scary the show was and how dark it got. "It was so fun seeing the friendship between Steve and Skylar, then last season the both of them with Robin. Now this season we get Robin and Nancy and Eddie and Skylar." She goes on about the girls being together and not about Sky and Eddie once so I speak up. "I'd like to add I like how the brothers give the viewers some knowledge of that Eddie and Sky already being sort of distant friends so their friendship being close this season wasn't too random." I speak up looking back at Joseph. "Yeah, that knowledge for us made us working together easier." Joseph nods his head.
"I actually really love the chemistry between Eddie and Skylar... If you guys were a viewer watching the show who would you pick Skylar to be with?" She asks us. "Wow, that's a tough one... if I was a viewer, I'd probably pick Steve. Only because we've seen their relationship change and grow throughout the last three seasons." Natalia looks at the three of us. "That's true. From the whole enemies to friends to lovers trope." Maya agrees. "Steve, because they've been through a lot. He just needs to man up and fix their relationship. As a viewer you can tell they love each other." Joe answers. "As a viewer Steve but being biased I say Eddie." Joseph laughs. "Great, it's my turn now..." I laugh thinking about it, "I would say I don't care." I answer truthfully. "Really?" The lady asks. "I say that because I see she has chemistry with both. Yeah, there's more history with Steve but one; he cheated on her. Two; he's taking his time trying to fix his mistake and their relationship. With Steve taking his time it lets there be more time where Sky and Eddie think about their feelings for each other. So I don't care because she's good with both."
"Presley, how was it for you playing a character who has boy problems?" The next lady laughs. "Weird because I never have that problem. I've never had so many guys like me one after another." I laugh. "Wait, are you saying guys don't find you attractive?" Joe asks shocked. "My whole like I grew up as the ugly friend and people reminded me daily." I nod my head. "Bet they take it back now." Joseph says making me laugh, "One did apologize." I tell him. She asks if we had all the power and control what would we manifest for our character. "Maya I feel like you would have a great answer for that." Joe puts the spot light on her. "I think I would like to umm, have a powerful love story with Nancy Wheeler but she chooses Jonathan instead of me. Also I die sacrificing myself to the monster just for trauma to being Steve and Skylar back together." She answers the questions. "That's exactly what I was gonna say." Joe jokes. "I'd say for everyone just to have a ending they deserve. Eddie goes through stuff and I feel sorry for the dude. Robin needs to find love, Nancy needs to realize she doesn't need a man, Steve and Skylar need to become best friends again." I answer.
It felt like the interviews got longer and long as time with on because I was getting so tired. "Whose performance blew you away this season?" We're asked. "My baby Sadie Sink and then I'd say this lovely man to behind me to my left." I turn towards Joseph patting his knee." I say happy with my answer. Who has the best taste in music was next. "Me. Because I'm offended when people don't like my music." I laugh. "I think I am sitting with three people who have very distinct very good taste in music." Natalia says then gives me a smile. "I'm joking it's four. Presley listens to like everything so you never know what you get when she shuffles music." She says and the others agree.
"Would you rather rent a movie, play D&D, or hit the roller rink?" We're asked. "Rent a movie. I suck at D&D and I can't roller-skate." I answer. "Your asking a room full of actors if whether or not we're watching a movie or do anything else. I think the answers probably watch movies." Maya answer. "What 80's movie would you rent?" The next question is asked. "Either The Labyrinth or Lost Boys." I smile then Joseph says any by John. "Who makes you laugh the most on set?" He asks us. "We have a lot of laughs in set. That's the best part about this show. That's pretty much all we do." Joe says. "It's very true but picking a person I pick Gaten." I laugh.
Finally when we were done we clap our hands because sitting in these chairs were hell. "I'm starving." I get up stretching my arms. "Do you wanna go out for lunch?" Joseph walks up beside me. "Do I wanna go out for lunch? Like with you?" I ask turning to face him. "Or you can go have it alone. Whatever you prefer." He says with a smile making me laugh. "Do you have anything in mind?" I ask as I get my things together. "Not really. Do you?" He asks as I put my bag over my shoulder. "Anyplace with breadsticks. I really want some breadsticks." I let him know. "I think we can find place with breadsticks for you.” He chuckles. “Yes.” I clap my hands excited.
We find a place to eat at before we leave then go in our separate cars. “Table for two, please.” I tell the hostess and they take us to a table. “You were determined to talk about Skylar and Eddie earlier during that one interviewer.” Joseph speaks as we look through the menu. “Because I didn’t want you left out. She brought it up but only talked to Maya and Natalia. Why bring up our characters if you’re not going to talk to us about them.” I tell him and he just nods his head with a slight smile. As soon as the breadsticks hit the table a huge grin spreads across my face. “Come to mama.” I reach for one as see Joseph laughing at me. “What?” I ask with a slight frown confused.
“Come to mama and your smile… it’s cute since it’s for breadsticks.” He takes one himself. “Because I love them. Especially the ones with mozzarella cheese in them. Mmm, I love them.” I think about them. “Are you looking forward to sitting in a chair for hours tomorrow again?” He asks as we wait for our food. “I just hope they don’t ask the same questions over and over. It’s so tiring. Then it sucks when people catch on and realize you’re annoyed of the same question because your answer gets flatter and flatter.” I explain with a sigh. “Then they get mad at you for seeming rude when you’re just tried if repeating yourself.” He says making nod my head agreeing.
As we eat we and the restaurant got slightly more crowed a few people started to recognize us but we ignored them. “Oh, back to the topic on interviews tomorrow… what do you plan on wearing so we don’t match. I have to make sure I look better than you.” I joke with him. “Maybe tan colors. I don’t know yet.” He makes a face laughing. “So boring got.” I laugh at him. “What all are you doing tomorrow?” He asks. “I have a friendship test with Sadie, theories and the rest of the interviews with y’all. Then the following day I have a wired autocomplete by myself along with my first. Sadie is doing those tomorrow, I believe. Along with Noah and Gaten for the wired autocomplete.” I give him the run down.
“You’re a very busy person.” He says as we finish up. “I’m not normally. Since the second season that’s when my schedule slowly got longer. Us older ones are never as busy as the kids since the show is mainly about them. Makes me happy I’m not their age.” I laugh then pay for both of our meals. “I could have paid for mine. You didn’t have to do that. Plus I asked if you want to come have lunch.” Joseph gives me a look. “But it was my idea to come eat so that’s why I paid. And I’m just being a good person.” We stand up from our table. “Next time we eat… I’m paying, got that.” He points his finger at me so I laugh at him. “Fine, you can pay next time we have lunch together.” I say as we go outside to our rides. “See you tomorrow at work.” He waves goodbye to me.
As I get into the vehicle I get a text from a friend saying a fan posted a picture of Joseph and I eating and now people think we were on a date. “God. Can two people of the opposite sex not have lunch together without people thinking their on a date?” I ask out loud. “Everyday people can but when you’re a celebrity no. The public will automatically assume things.” My driver speaks up making me look up at him. “I didn’t ask for you input James.” I say with a chuckle. “You spoke out loud Miss Presley. In a form of a question, might I add.” He now chuckles looking at me from the mirror. “Fine, you win.” I put my hands up. “That’s what now? Six to five?” I roll my eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re ahead by one point.”
#stranger things#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joe keery#gaten matazarro#natalia dyer#millie bobby brown#noah schnapp#maya hawke#david harbour#stranger things 4#stranger things s4#eddie munson x henderson#eddie munson#stranger things eddie munson#steve harrington x henderson#steve harrington
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Alright, you brilliant stuffed olive, you. Can I get...
🕯️🍬🔪❄️🥐🍦🧩 (yes I am greedy, I love olives) and also because I love hearing them 🪐
Love ya byeeeee 💛💛💛
This is so hideously late, I am sorry! I’ve answered a couple of these already: 🥐 🧩
🕯️ — On a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing?
I’d say maybe 7? I am a perfectionist at heart and I love seeing things come together and become better and better, but also… Well, it’s effort, innit? 😂
🍬 - an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character
I don’t see why people either think Snape is a hero or a villain, and I think that when people make him out to be one or the other it makes him really flat and boring. Call me a fence-sitter all you like, but that’s where I sit.
🔪 - weirdest research topic?
I think the best search on my google history was along the lines of: “what is the quickest and most dramatic way to stab a guy to death?”
❄️ - what would be a dream fic to read and who should write it?
Please write the adventures of Alan the Ferret for me. Please.
🍦 - Three nice things to say about a character you hate
I was planning on answering this for Umbridge but @libellule-ao3 beat me to it! So, instead let’s go for a less scary villain from the HP series…
He’s very good at anagrams.
He’s dedicated to his pet’s wellbeing and nutritional needs.
He wasn’t bad looking, until he lost his nose and stuff.
🪐 - Three good things going on right now
It’s finally sunny!
I’m buying a house!
I’m going on holiday next week!
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🍓🕯️🧃🎲🍄🍬🦷🧩
👀👀👀
❤️❤️❤️❤️
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?
I used to write when I was a teenager and I don't know why I stopped, but one day I wanted to start again and here we are!
🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?
Editing I do not enjoy. I just want to write, hand it over to you and have you take out my grammar mistakes 😂
🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before
When I was working as a Duty Manager in a hotel, I once found a suitcase full of drugs in a room that was late with the check-out. We called the police, but the guest returned before they arrived, so I had to stall him until they were there. I was scared he would figure it out he was being stalled, but apparently, I am a better actor than I thought!
🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?
My boyfriend and I don't have a lot of days off together (only the Sunday), so when we do, I want to spend it together and not sit behind my computer. And on working days, I don't want to spend my evening behind a computer as well, since I've been doing that all day already.
🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favorite ships or pairings
I have been thinking about a scary winter themed fic with Lestappen. That's all.
🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character
I have been thinking about this one for so long, but I come up empty. I don't think I have any unpopular opinions? Unless not that I am aware of...
🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on
Not sure if this counts, but I have finally created the perfect bath (at least for me): magnesium crystals to soothe my muscles, a scentless bath foam that's good for dry skin, and then a few drops of eucalyptus oil. It's so relaxing.
🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?
When the personalization of a character does not match at all with how they are. I like it when writers stay close to truth. I also hate it when people don't use capital letters where needed; when I see all lower case, I close that thing immediately.
Thank you, my dearest Mona! ❤️
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*kicks down door* IT’S TOURNAMENT PROPAGANDA TIME (tagging @battlebotschampionshiptournament as requested hehe (and also because that's where the tournament is lol))
As the blog named tritonposting, it is my inherent moral duty to post about Triton– more specifically, to post a list of reasons why he is the sexiest robot in the WCVII Battlebots roster. His first round is tomorrow, so I figured I'd get this out early to capture the largest possible audience.
The Propaganda List is 17 items long, and mostly divided into one group of verbal elaborations + one group of images, because I am just a little too enthusiastic about this.
For legal reasons this is all ironic yeah this is totally for the haha funnies no I am not unironically attracted to this robot what do you mean
(Under the cut because Long Post)
1. Firstly, to sway those of you who are more into humans than bots, I present you with my artwork of a human AU Triton:
A dashing himbo, no?
2. Shape language is everything when designing a combat robot. Rounder shapes (example: those found on Blip and Rusty) indicate a cuter, more approachable persona. Triton, on the other hand, is mostly angles. Thanks to that, he looks fierce and intimidating, which is immensely sexy of him.
4. I mentioned the blade, and realized that was worth making a separate point of, because… have you seen it?!? Not only is it 80 pounds– the heaviest a weapon can be, according to the rulebook– but it’s elegant, sleek, and casts one hell of a shadow. When your bot’s weapon alone is iconic enough to be used as a logo, as Team Overboard has utilized it, that’s how you know you’ve designed something that’s a cut above the rest.
5. Related to the last point: If you’ve heard his death hum, you already know why this is an item on the list. If you haven’t… here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2w-x-GAC9gI
Now you have. Forget the roar of your standard spinner, this thing screams. To some, this is a scary sound, a hallowing reminder that combat robots, when pitted against humans, easily become death machines. To me? It just makes this freakin’ robot even hotter.
6. PROTECTED. WHEELS.
7. INVERTIBLE.
8. SELF. RIGHTING. ASS. SPIKE.
9. FAST. FUCKING. SPIN-DOWN. TIME.
10. Points 6-9 (hehe funni) highlight the engineering intricacies few notice at first glance, but that have contributed to making Triton the immediate– relative– success he is. (2-2 isn’t bad for a rookie bot, especially considering some 1-3 bots made it into this year’s RO32!) Team Overboard had some intense time/location constraints to work with this year, given the timing of Deep Six’s rejection, so these tiny details couldn’t have been planned out very far in advance. Understanding how quickly the builders drew up such ingenuity from scratch makes Triton’s design even more impressive. (Just in case I’m losing you in the technicalities, well-engineered robot = sexy robot!!!)
I have run out of words, off to images/gifs we go!!
11. This <3
12. This 😳
13. He is a big boy confirmed (Jackpot for scale)
14. Shiny murder robot ugh 😩
15. This smooth bonk
16. Scared boy 💖💖💖 (I know fear isn’t very sexy but you know what is?? Trying your best)
17. Last but not least, he dressed up as Tombstone for Halloween, robot cosplay is inherently hot (prove me wrong, u can’t)
TL;DR: Vote Triton for Sexiest Battlebot 2023!!!!
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*vine boom sfx* THANK YOU SOPHIE @nizynskis I ❤️ QUESTIONS GAME
1. Are you named after anyone?
Yes lol my irl name has two parts and both are my great grandparents
2. When was the last time you cried?
Like two nights ago. i was left on read for too long👍
3. Do you have kids?
No, never will.
4. What sport do you play/have played?
Magic the Gathering. (actually trying to get into my local roller derby)
5. Do use sarcasm?
No, almost never.
6. What is the first thing you notice about people?
How they talk, probably. Either to me or to others. If they talk too loud or very quiet, if they have accents or use countryisms. etc.
7. Whats your hair color?
Im a dark blonde.
8. Scary movies or happy endings?
Scary movies most definitely. I ❤️ when things go to shit
9. Any talents?
I'd like to believe that im a very talented baker.
10. Where were you born?
Mid-Missouri 👍
11. What are your hobbies?
Argh ok well other than my art, im really into scale model kits right now. Specifically gunpla and other mech kits. I also play a lot of Monster Hunter: Rise.
12. Do you have any pets?
One very puppy
13. How tall are you?
five seven baby
14. Favorite subject in school?
English/ELA. I can write an essay on anything given proper motivation.
15. Dream job?
I want to be join a union, and be an electrician specifically. I'm also toying with the idea of nursing bc i could get my schooling paid for and healthcare is somewhat interesting to me. If I'm good at it. But I also fantasize about having my own restauraunt. World is my oyster i guess.
Alrightt thank youu that was fun. Here i am tagging people now. @garlic-chip-muffin @justanotherbrooke @iplacebo45-blog @porpoiselove @splashtail @eggbb @severalsmallwizards and ummmmm anyone else who wants to do this go ahead and tag me 👍
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So I’m officially Crushed that Hounds is finished, even though the ending was perfect! So I’ll take the opportunity to respond to the writing style thing from earlier this week. Sorry if this is too random! I have 10 billion things I love about your writing, I’ll just pick out some that come to mind spontaneously
Thing 1, I love how you write supernatural beings! Genuinely alien and scary at first, but then we spend more time with them, and find such a human core to them. Like, the potential of the supernatural-as-metaphor is realized to perfection over and over again?
There’s something so recognizable in the way Desire toys with people, in Dream’s guardedness, in the Corinthian’s hunger. One example is in the Corinthian’s interactions with Daniel, the tension between experiencing sudden unexpected freedom, but registering it as rejection, as feeling obsolete and useless because who even are you when you aren’t needed…for him, that arises from his supernatural nature as a creature literally created for a specific purpose, but for me as a reader, it still speaks to something relatable and painful. Really great stuff
Thing 2, the references! To literature, poetry, myth, music, history…I just recently read “Underland” by Robert MacFarlane (warmly recommended) and he does something similar, to similar effect. It gives everything such scope, makes it feel so much bigger than the immediate story being told, like it situates the story in some Great Narrative about all of humanity, with the references connecting it all like a myriad mycelial strands.
Thing 3 is that I love the way you word familiar things in an unusual way, which always feels like I’m getting some kind of revelation about what the thing’s essence is. I always struggle to put into words why a certain moment, or gesture, or landscape, or person makes me feel a certain way, and then I might encounter it in your writing and suddenly I’m like “Yes, finally someone gets it!” And I especially love it when the verb is doing the heavy lifting. Random example, how to immediately capture the eerie vibe of a lonely nighttime street – “buzzing security lights futilely scratching at the darkness”.
Aaanyway this is way too long already, but I want to just thank you again for sharing your writing :) Hope you have a good weekend!
hi??? hello??? and what if i wept??? what THEN??? what if these businessfolk on this commuter train had to watch me sniffle with pure inexpressible joy???
but seriously — wow this really sent me reeling in the best loveliest most consuming way!! it is maybe the most richly validating feeling in the world to have someone point out bits of your work they love and it is genuinely such a gift — your time and your thoughts are of immeasurable wonder and i will stuff these praises in my pockets like treasured cool rocks from a beach <3
i am thrilled my supernatural creatures hit — in even my non-fic stuff i am absolutely fascinating by scales of humanity — by the way the immensely surreal and even the seemingly ahuman can contain with in it exaggerated mirrors of the truest human experiences. i love playing with that like bizarre distortion (especially w my baby cori, but all the endless were such a sublime opportunity to Mess Around With That), and then narrowing the aperture down to try and pinpoint the real, authentic humanity that the most inexplicable wildness can contain <- all that to say made me feel crazy wonderful that you liked the way i mucked about with the wild supernatural gang !!!! bodes well for my future projects <3
i am going to put underland on my library list!! i am such a sucker for intertextuality like what if words were a sculptural medium what if by compounding text on text on text you build a form greater than the sum of its parts ANYWAY gosh makes my spirit light and free to know you liked all that <3 <3 <3 i look forward with delight to reading that book!! (also mycelial is such a brilliant word thank you for reminding me it exists <3)
the moments of articulating specific little feelings are generally the ones i beat my head against the wall about the most and so it is genuinely so rewarding to know that they hit and they resonate <3 and verbs!! to the chagrin of some professors i tend to insist on giving descriptions active agency and it is again wonderously validating to know that that’s a vibe!!! thank you thank you thank you <3
this really make me feel like my body was full of light and i’m going to have a real killer of a day now <3 thank you so so so much for your kind words they mean everything under the sun to me <3
#vergil says hello#hounds#the sandman#gosh this really made me giddy#thank you so very much for stopping by my friend <3#wishing you the loveliest of days weeks months and years#<3 <3 <3 <3 <3
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okay okay !! so i always love hearing people talk about their favorite characters so could you do the ask game on your current favorite character/current brainrot character ?? :) (basically the character wanna talk about the most with these games hehe) thank you !!
ahh this is so sweet tysm!! i am gonna do this for kaz brekker from six of crows because that man lives rent-free in my brain
on a scale of 1-10, how ticklish are they? - considering the fact that he has avoided human contact for the past 10ish years, he assumes it's a 0. it's more like a solid 7.
where is their most ticklish spot(s)? - kaz is ticklish in weird places - his ears and neck, his arms, his hands, and his back are probably the most sensitive.
which spots are they not ticklish? - his bad leg, basically from hip to ankle is just painful when touched
what is their laugh like? - he doesn't laugh often, and when he does, it's usually humorless scoffs or quick chuckles. if he's tipsy and jesper makes a particularly funny joke, you can get a laugh out of him, and it'll be this deep, rugged sort of sound, gravelly like his voice always is. but when he gets tickled??? he becomes a giggler. his voice goes up an octave and he has no control over the sounds he's making. it's adorable.
do they enjoy tickling? if yes, is it a fun platonic/familial thing, or kinky thing to them, or can it be both depending on the circumstance? - before he starts to get better with the whole touching people thing? the idea of tickling as a concept is enough to make his stomach hurt. he thought he would despise feeling helpless under another person's hand. but as he gets more comfortable with affection, and closer with the other crows, he realizes that it...doesn't suck as much as he thought. he still pretends to absolutely loathe it. it was definitely a familial thing when he was little, his brother tickled him all the time, but i can see him as an adult enjoying it in a romantic or even kinky fashion with inej, because i feel like he feels completely safe with her and likes submitting to her 👀
are they more often a lee or ler, generally? - neither, at first. he stays completely away from the playful pokes for a long time. then, he becomes almost exclusively a lee when he allows the physical contact. it's always quick, over the clothes, and in private, but specifically jesper and inej love to tickle him. eventually, i think he'd get comfortable being more of a ler, leaving him at a 60% lee, 40% ler sort of ratio.
who is someone in their life that they tickle often? - inej, but he's very careful about it. she hates feeling helpless even more than him, and he never wants to freak her out. he really likes braiding her hair and "accidentally" running his fingers over her neck to make her giggle, or softly squeezing her knees, even though she kicks
who is someone in their life that they get tickled by often? - when he was a kid, jordie tickled him all the time. now, jesper and inej are really the only person who would dare to try it. partially because no one wants to cross his boundaries, partially because he is Scary.
does the word “tickle” or any variation of embarrass them? - i don't think so, unless it's being directed at him, then he gets a little flustered (threatening to tickle him or talking about his sensitivity)
are they embarrassed about their ticklishness, and do they try to deny/hide it? - embarrassed isn't really the right word...he knows that it's just a human thing, that he can't really help it, but he does guard that secret very well. he has a reputation to uphold, after all. if people knew how easily the bastard of the barrel could be reduced to a giggly mess, he'd be DONE FOR, lol. soooo, he'd deny and hide it very seriously.
would gentle tickling or rough tickling affect them more? - gentle, for sure. he's used to roughness, violence, but gentleness totally wrecks him.
is there a specific spot that they enjoy being tickled, either exclusively or more than other spots? what is it? - he likes having his back tickled a lot, especially when he and inej start being able to share a bed and she does it to make him all giggly and boneless and sleepy<3333
is there a spot that they can’t stand to be tickled, either because it’s just too sensitive, or it’s uncomfortable/painful/etc? what is it? - his bad leg is just a big no-touching spot for him in general, otherwise he's alright with it. he does just prefer to be touched over his clothes in general.
would they ever purposefully bug a friend/partner/sibling into tickling them, and if so, how would they go about it? - hot take but i feel like he would...kaz is horrible at verbalizing his feelings, his desires, and if he ever was craving physical affection, he wouldn't have the first idea of how to make that known. plus, he would rather hit himself over the head with his cane than just ask for it. so i think he would either just be particularly snarky/sarcastic, or with inej, i think he'd tickle her first so that she'll do it back.
does teasing affect them? - he hates that it does, but yes. and he replies mostly but cursing at the person doing it, and definitely not blushing at all.
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Thank you Elle (@il-predestinato) for tagging me! Loved the Audie photo btw, she’s definitely giving Charles a run for his money on who is the most adorable wearing that Monaco cap.
1. Are you named after anyone?
Not that I know of, although my parents wanted it to be bit of an uncommon name. Fast forward to elementary school, there was girl in my class with the same name. Fast forward to now, turns out it’s a pretty darn popular name in a different part of the country. Oh well...
2. When was the last time you cried?
Oh boy...Uhm, let’s just say that last month has been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster at work, but it’s all good now, at least I hope it is.
On the other hand, I also teared up a little yesterday while reading one of the new entries in the Lestappen tag. I’d rec it here, but the author doesn’t want it shared outside AO3. Nevertheless, you’ll find it in the tag quite easily I think.
3. Do you have kids?
Nope. Think I might want one eventually, but definitely not any time soon.
4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
It usually comes out the strongest when I’m pissed off, and when it does...let’s just say I’m not anybody’s bestie then 😅.
5. What sports do you play/have you played?
I have a confession to make...I’m a bit like our beloved boys Maxy and Charlie when it comes to sports (that may also include driving, but I hope I can fix that soon). I did try dance for a hot minute, but I kind of/sort sucked at it. What else? Oh right, had one swimming class before I caught pneumonia. Fun times.
6. What's the first thing you notice about other people?
I have a bit of a sweet spot for fashion, so definitely how they’re dressed. Charlie baby, I’m definitely judging you.
7. Scary movies or happy endings?
Definitely happy endings. Although recently I’ve been the tiniest bit more exposed to scary movies. I still think they suck though.
8. Any special talents?
Definitely not. Although I’m going to take a page out of Elle’s book and say that at least I am fully aware about things I suck at. Self-conscious, right? That can easily slip into underestimating yourself, but that’s a another story...
9. Where were you born?
Romania, my frenemy, the land of choice. King Charles apparently likes it here. If only it were a different Charles...ahem.
10. What are your hobbies?
Reading, writing, watching silly little sports about silly little tax-evading men and down-right abusive federations and coaches who exploit their athletes...also spending time with the people I love. Balance, right?
11. Do you have any pets?
I do! Two kitties and one dog. But they’re not as cool as Audie!
12. How tall are you?
164 cm, and I am very adamant that it’s 164, not 163, okay? Also, I have no idea how inches work.
13. Fave subject in school?
It would have been Math if I had had less...Russian coaches like teachers (to a much more smaller scale, but still). English definitely, and I guess also Romanian (but our literature is...not the most entertaining and my teachers were weird).
14. Dream job?
I’m starting more and more to realise that it’s being a university professor. Which is a bit of bummer financially, and also it doesn’t help that in my field and in my country it’s generally perceived that only people who fail in the industry turn to academia. But I really like working with students and helping them succeed.
15. Eye colour?
I’m going to step away from the poop joke and instead use the Stephenie Meyer description of chocolate brown ✌🏻.
Tagging: @xiaoluclair, @alestire, @pressradio, @coconutshygame, @the-last-jedis, @dnfstrategist, @just-an-inchident, @karlmarxverstappen if any of you guys want to this or haven't been tagged already!
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15 questions tag.
Thank you to @duckingwriting for the tag! Sorry for the late response. I do try to respond to every tag game I get, assuming it isn't the same one multiple times in a row, but I do get sidetracked...alot. Nonetheless, I do appreciate being included.
Rules: Answer the 15 questions as one of your OCs, or as yourself. Tag up to 15 people.
I'll be using an, as of current, not-yet-introduced character: Ashmedai, the the king of Sheidim. You may know a bit of him already, but I'm excited to show you my take on him nonetheless.
tagging: @doikayt @dogmomwrites, @mariahwritesstuff, @creating-with-words, @writernopal, and anyone else who'd like to do this, because it is alot of fun.
Questions below the cut. Template can be found in the post linked at the top.
1 - Are you named after anyone?
"No, I am not."
2 - When was the last time you cried?
"Rather rude of a question. An I was crying, it would be reasonable to ask, but otherwise? I prefer not to answer."
3 - Do you have any kids?
"No. Some of my subjects are like children to me, and I am responsible for all of them, but I have no biological children. We are all born from the same mother, after all."
4 - Do you use sarcasm?
"My words, when spoken in Even Chanting, can cause great destruction if left unchecked. It is better for me not to play word games."
5 - What's the first thing you notice about people?
"The feet. Its a habit, but when you can shapeshift any part of the body save for your own feet, it can be disorienting seeing feet that aren't that of a chicken."
6 - What is your eye color?
"...My eye is composed of multiple colors. My sclera is red, my iris's are yellow, and I my pupils are also yellow. or I suppose I should say second iris, as they are not really inside the first."
7 - Scary movies or happy endings?
"Why not both? Fear is necessary for relief to have any true value."
8 - Any special talents?
"I am excellent at being contradictory. Being a king requires you to be tolerant and strict, both compassionate and cold, both merciful and merciless. I would say I manage it quite well."
9 - Where were you born?
"In the dreams of people long dead and forgotten."
10 - What are your hobbies?
"Studying. Yes, I know you may find it boring, but I find learning quite fulfilling. I mostly learn Talmud, but I occasionally dabble in other philosophy as well. Human views on life are fascinating."
11 - Do you have any pets?
"No, and I have never understood the appeal of taking an animal from its native home and forcing it to become dependent on me for food and sustenance. Nor the lure of doing this on such a large scale that they cannot survive anywhere else. It is truly interesting where an individual mind chooses to draw the line between moral and immoral, yes?"
12 - What sports do you or have you played?
"Well, I made sport of that old fool Shlomo till the day he died, but I do not think that was what you meant."
13 - How tall are you?
"You are asking this question to a king of a race of shapeshifters. I suppose the closest answer I could conceivably give would be my maximum height, which I have not measured. I can confirm that I can become large enough to block the sun from reaching an entire castle. Yes, castles are different sizes, but the biggest one you can think of, I'm sure I can match."
14 - Favorite subject in school?
"I never went to school."
15 - Dream job?
"A Rabbi."
"What? Surprised? Being king is a necessity, but if I could relieve myself of it to someone who I knew could do it well, I would retire to my mountain and happily do nothing but study the words of wise men and women long dead for the rest of my days."
#tag games#15 questions#writing#this one was alot of fun#its a good thing this wasn't 16 questions#or Ashmedai would've had to kill whoever was asking#And since this is a non-canon 'interview' of sorts#its hard to do that without breaking character#Anyways the next Sheidy Business chapter will come out...#...when I'm done writing it#which is hopefully soon but no promises
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