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lustfulslxt · 22 days

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Spoiled Rotten - Chris Sturniolo

summary : chris spoils you like no other and you show him how grateful you are

warnings : chris basically being a sugar daddy, swearing, m! oral, p in v, breeding kink, probably some other shit idk

a/n : hii, it’s been entirely too long. i’m kinda rusty but i hope this makes up for it!!

—

Getting everything you’ve ever wanted, even without having to ask, is something you never would’ve imagined for yourself. You’ve always had to work so incredibly hard for even the smallest things. Hell, you’ve had to work two jobs since you were old enough to work, just to be able to afford your bills.

Having a deadbeat father and a mother who had passed always made your life hard. It was up to you to keep things afloat. Keeping the bills paid, the kitchen stocked with groceries, the house tidy — it was all up to you, on top of having to keep your grades up to avoid the wrath of your absent yet, for some reason, still abusive father.

After your mom died, everything went downhill. Your father spiraled out of control. Because of his own wrongdoings, he took his anger out on you. He lost his job, gambled away the majority of your family’s savings, and spent the rest of it on alcohol and drugs. He made it all out to be your fault. If you hadn’t stepped up and started working your ass off, you’d definitely be living on the streets right now.

So, from where you were only a few years ago, to where you are now — you never would’ve pictured having any and everything you could ever want. Especially, from someone else’s wallet.

Chris’ wallet.

Your boyfriend knew of your previous struggles. He’d been your best friend since you were in elementary, so he witnessed what you had to do to get by. He’d beg and beg for you to just let him help, but you’d always refuse. If your own father can’t take care of you, why would you expect someone else to?

However, after so long, Chris ignored your reluctance and was quick to pamper you. Quick to provide for you. You’re everything to him, and he wants to make up for your sorry excuse of a father.

He moved you in with him after being together for two years. He doesn’t let you pay for anything. Him and his brothers keep the bills paid, as well as food in the kitchen. Anything to do with money, he’s got covered. And he still makes sure to spoil you rotten. Yet, not without a complaint from you.

“Chris!” You pouted, “Will you put your damn wallet away?”

Instantly, he’s shaking his head, “No. I don’t know why we have to keep going over this. Whatever you want, I’m getting. So, stop complaining and accept it.”

“But-“

He’s quick to cut you off with a peck to your lips. When you huff, he only grins and wraps an arm around your waist, continuing your stroll through the store.

Chris is extremely observant, and he knows you. He knows you like the back of his hand. So, when you turn away from something too quick after checking the price tag, he knows it’s something you like. You’re trying to throw him off and act uninterested in the entire store, but he can read you better than anyone.

So, while you’re off browsing through everything, grabbing the few things that you can afford, in hopes of talking him into letting you pay for it, he’s backtracking and grabbing your size in everything you took a liking in. By the time you make your way to the registers, Chris is already swiping his card.

Upon seeing the multiple bags on the counter in front of him, you can’t help but frown. You slowly turn around, heading to put the few shirts you had grabbed back. There’s no use in trying.

When you head back to Chris, he’s eyeing you with furrowed eyebrows. You walk next to him and he’s looking between you and the rack you were just at.

“Did you want those?” He asks.

You quickly shake your head, “No.”

“Are you sure? I can-“

You instantly loop your arm with his and drag him to the exit. You’re extremely grateful, but you can’t help but a little guilty because he spends so much money on you. You don’t want him to feel obligated just because you had a shitty past.

However, that’s far from how he feels. He just loves and adores you, and wants to give you everything you could ever want.

On the way home, Chris has your hand in his while he drives. Your eyes never leave him as you’re deep in thought. Thinking of everything he’s ever done and continues to do for you makes you so happy you could cry. You just want to show him how appreciative you are.

Pulling up to the house, you notice a big box sitting in front of the door. You furrow your eyebrows for a second, before concluding one of the boys must have ordered something. Once you both get out with the few bags, you head over and Chris picks up the box with a giant smile on his face.

You can’t help but smile at his smile, “Is that for you? What did you get?”

His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, “You’ll see.”

You give him a quizzical look before following him inside. Rather than stopping at the kitchen, he goes straight down to your shared room, so you follow him.

He places the box on the floor and is quick to open it. You set your bags down on the desk chair and walk over to him, your brows raised with curiosity. As soon as he gets the box open, he smiles widely and gestures for you to look and rummage through. Which you do. What you see has you gasping.

“Chris! You did not…”

He proudly nods, “I did, baby.”

Inside the box are numerous purses, shoes, fragrances, and several boxed skincare products. All things you had in your online cart. Things you never actually planned on buying, for the prices are too expensive, and you were only having a little fun.

Your heart swells at the gesture. He’s always doing the absolute most for you. There’s never ever been a time where he’s denied you of something you want, especially if it comes with a price tag.

You turn to Chris, a downward smile pulling to your lips as you look at him. He smiles back, only bigger and brighter. You take his hands in yours and yank him into you. Your lips meet his in a soft kiss. When he pulls away, you’re left chasing his lips for another. Passionately kissing him, until you’re both left breathless.

As soon as you part, you’re pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He falls with a bounce and wide eyes as he stares up at you.

Before he gets a word out, you’re straddling his lap. “You’re always so good to me. Let me be good to you.”

It takes seconds for Chris to start growing beneath your center. You lick your lips and lean forward, diving into a feverish kiss. His hands quickly meet your back, rubbing up and down, and along your sides.

You hum against his lips, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body. Your hands move from his face to his hair, sharply tugging on it, eliciting a groan from him that makes your heat throb.

You pull away, your breathing shallow as you tug at the hem of his shirt. He leans up to assist you in removing it, before taking your lips in his again. Your hands instantly meet his bare torso, touching along his pecks and running your hands down his abdomen. His skin is hot beneath your fingertips and it stirs something inside of your stomach.

Your tongues dance together, moving in perfect sync with one another. The kiss gets sloppy, saliva coating both of your mouths. Chris is now rock hard beneath you, and you can’t help but grind against him, the two of you moaning into the kiss.

Your hands travel down his stomach, hooking onto his belt. Without parting from him, you undo his buckle and pull the belt from the loops of his jeans.

“God, you’re so hot.” He groans against your mouth.

You grin and push him back, his hair fluffing as his head hits the pillow below him. Your fingers grasp the button on his pants and quickly part it, slowly sliding his zipper down. He bucks his hips into your hands, desperate for more friction.

You lean forward, whispering in his ear, “Easy baby.” You place a kiss on his neck, causing him to shudder. “Promise I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

With one last kiss to his lips, you remove yourself from his lap and kneel beside him. He lifts his hips up to help you pull his pants down, his boxers following shortly after.

His cock stands tall, fully erect. Precum dribbles from the tip as his veins practically throb. Your mouth is watering at the sight. You take him in your palm, gripping softly. He takes in a sharp breath at the feeling, already fisting the sheets.

You stare into his eyes, puckering your lips, and push forward a jewel of saliva. It falls onto his head, trickling down his length, causing his mouth to fall slack as he takes you in.

You never cease to amaze him. Looking so innocent, but about to swallow him whole. He loves everything about you, especially the way you wrap your mouth around him.

Your tongue flicks over the slit of his tip, causing him to let out a small groan. You smile and wrap your lips around his head, sucking softly.

“Fuck..” He whispers, breathlessly.

Letting your mouth salivate even more, you continue teasing him. His breathing is erratic, eyes wide as he watches you. He so badly wants to shove his dick down your throat.

Luckily for him, you stop with the games and take him into your mouth. You force yourself down to the base, your nose pressing into his pelvic bone. He lets out a throaty moan at the feeling of his tip digging into the warm walls of your throat.

You flatten your tongue and begin bobbing your head up and down, working his cock the way he loves. Occasionally humming around him, pulling more moans from his pretty mouth.

“So fucking good.” He groans, bucking into your mouth.

His hands entangle in your hair as you look up at him and give him the slightest nod, keeping your mouth on him. His grip on you tightens, holding you in place as he begins thrusting in and out of your mouth.

The sounds of wet gagging fill the air, topped with his moans and groans. Your eyes prick with tears before they’re soon falling down your cheeks. Your face is flushed and stained with mascara streaks, drool falling down your chin. Chris can’t help but think you look the prettiest you’ve ever looked as he fucks your throat.

Your hand cups his balls, softly massaging them. His moans grow louder from the sensation, his orgasm approaching rather quickly from the combined stimulations.

His thrusts into your mouth grow sloppy and disorganized. His stomach tightens and his arms flex as he’s pushed over the edge. His hands push you into his dick, holding you in place as it bulges through your neck. He tosses his head back with a lewd moan leaving his mouth, his cock simultaneously spilling down your throat. It’s warm as it smoothly coats your throat, almost like honey when you’re sick. You love every bit of it.

Licking around his member, you pull your lips from him, making sure to suck every bit of cum from him. He groans at the sight of you swallowing every drop, and instantly pulls you up to him with a rough grip on your jaw.

He smashed his lips on yours, kissing you deeply and hungrily. Your pussy throbs for more, aching to be filled with his cock. It only takes a few seconds before he’s flipping you over.

He kneels between your thighs and tugs at your shirt, swiftly removing it. You bite your bottom lip in excitement, ready for him to fuck your brains out. His hands are quickly at your shorts, tugging them and your panties off in one motion. Him being eager to be inside you has you clenching around nothing.

His hands grope your bare tits, squeezing them in his palms. Your soft moans only encourage him. One hand goes back and forth between them, tweaking your nipples. His other hand slides between your legs, running through your folds.

He hums, “So wet already. Does sucking my cock turn you on? Hm?”

You only nod, your bottom lip still pressed tightly between your teeth.

“Mm, such a good little slut for me.”

You whine at his words and push your core into his hand, desperate for more. He pulls away from you, his hand suddenly coming down on your pussy in a quick motion, causing you to yelp as your body jerks. Your arousal only leaks more than it was. To which he notices.

He pouts, “Aw, you like that? You want it rough, don’t you?”

Your head quickly shakes up and down, whining as he rubs your clit. “Yes! Please, please. Want you to fuck me dumb.”

It didn’t take much for Chris to become fully erect again. You always do it for him. The second he kissed you after you swallowed him, he was growing again. That’s something you both love. Sometimes, you can go round after round.

He takes hold of his dick and runs it along your pussy. You whimper from the feeling, slightly grinding down into him. After a few teasing touches, his cock his saturated with your juices, making it easier to slide into you.

Your walls stretch around his girth in such a painfully pleasurable way. Your breath is stripped from your lungs as he bottoms out. You’ve never felt so full. His breath staggers from above you, loving the way you hug him so snugly.

He waits for you to adjust, and once he feels you aren’t so tense, he begins rocking in and out of you. Soft moans leave your lips as your hands run up his arms and grip his biceps. He leans down and presses a few kisses to your hand before picking up the speed.

“You feel so fucking good.” He moans, his strokes deep and hard.

Your mouth falls open, continuous moans emitting from it as your eyes roll back while your head falls to the side. Chris nudges your head to the side and attacks your neck with wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses. His hand suddenly wraps around your throat, applying a great pressure as he pushes himself up. His opposite hand grips your tit before smacking it, causing you to moan and clench around him.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you.” He grits, his hips snapping into yours with a strong force.

You want to look, but you can’t. Your eyes are practically stuck rolled into your head. You can hardly breathe with how hard he’s fucking you. Before you can even try, his hand slaps your face. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to feel the remaining sting. You can’t help but gush around his cock, loving every bit of it all.

You forcefully put your head down, eyes straining to focus on him. And boy are you glad. His hair is slick against his forehead, his skin glistening with a sheen layer of sweat. His cheeks are flushed a rosy pink color, his lips plump from your previous make out. His brows are furrowed in concentration and his entire face is struck with absolute pleasure. He looks like a dream.

You reach your hand out to caress his face and he leans into your touch. You love that he can still be sweet while completely wrecking you.

“Tell me how you feel.” He groans as he fucks in and out of you.

You bring your bottom lip in between your teeth, biting hard to control your moans. Though, it doesn’t work as your jaw drops and loud cries fall from your mouth.

His hand meets your jaw, slightly jerking to snap you out of the blissful trance he’s put you in. His eyes are dark as they bore into you, reiterating with every thrust, “Tell me. How you. Feel.”

Your face contorts in pleasure, sobbing out in between thrusts, “Mm, so good. F-feels sooo good, baby.”

“Such a good girl for me.” He coos, breathlessly.

Your mouth falls open, silent moans leaving it as he fucks into you. You’re on cloud nine. Your body feels on fire as pure bliss floods your veins. You can’t help but repeatedly clench around him as your climax nears. Your face contorts in pleasure, nails digging into his arm, leaving behind crescent shapes in his skin. The knot in your stomach tightens before unexpectedly snapping. You clench around his cock, your juices saturating him as you come undone.

He moans at the feeling, burying his face in your neck as he drops down again, digging into you deeper and deeper. “Gonna fill you up, ma. You’d like that, yeah? Give you my babies? Just wanna have even more to give you, you drive me fucking crazy.”

You soak in his words as you come down from your high, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist, pulling him into you. He smirks at your action, pressing a few sloppy kisses on your lips.

“Yeah, I knew you’d like that.” He moans as his thrusts grow erratic and out of rhythm.

His grip on you tightens, surely leaving behind purple finger shaped bruises. He buries cock into you, loudly groaning as he fills you up. He keeps fucking into you, determined to give you all he’s got. As soon as he can’t take it anymore, he pulls out and collapses beside you.

The two of you lay there, sweaty and panting, trying to recover from your intense orgasms. You both meet eyes, silly grins pulling to both of your faces. Neither of you have ever loved someone more.

Before succumbing to the exhaustion he felt, Chris perks up and leans over to his bedside table. “Oh, I got you one more thing.”

He turns back to you with a small black bag in his hand, offering it to you with a bright smile. You look at him with a pout, before taking the bag.

“When are you gonna stop with this?” You question, cheekily adding, “Aren’t your kids enough?”

He chuckles at you, “Just open the bag.”

So, you do. Inside it is a small black wallet — a wallet that is known for being one of a kind. Its intricate patterns are displayed along the material, the infamous logo engraved in the corner. You open it up to further examine it, your brows furrowing at what’s inside. Upon retrieving it, you look at Chris with a deadpan expression. His black credit card.

He smirks at you, “Yours now baby. No limit, so don’t even bother asking before you swipe it.”

—

a/n : ughh, okay so tbh i rushed the ending bc i ended up losing half of what i had since my cellular device is a literal piece of garbage. anywho, fingers crossed this was enjoyable lmaoo. it’s gonna take a minute for me to get back into things! missed you guys tho <3

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @chrissfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @strnlsblog @venusbabysblog @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita @junnniiieee07 @pepsienthusiasts @gamermattsgf @cupidsword @iloveneilperry @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @luul223 @matt444nixi @sturniololol

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #chris sturniolo #imagine #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #sugar daddy chris sturniolo

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victoirey · 1 year

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— smart phones & shimmyflies . . .

SYNOPSIS !

you find yourself, a 21st century citizen— in Pandora. what will you do ?

gn!human!genz!reader / " im sorry , do you guys have any chips ? "

taglist / @loaqi @mylovelo-ak @somerandomweeb2 @stomach-bugg09 @cheari @lo-aksgf

hi guys!! this is a prologue for a project I've been planning for a long time! I'm so glad to say that I am putting it in action! woopwoop! I have commitment issues though. I don't know why I'm doing this. the official tag for this series will be 'primitive person in pandora' , and smartphones and shimmyflies will be the official title <3

you slapped on a bandaid to soothe your papercut as you flipped through another page of questions— to be greeted by more questions. there you were, sat in your room— music fading in and out as you did your homework. every question was harder than the last , which was reasonable — as the subject was science , for God's sake. how the hell do you wrap your head around science? or atleast, what you're learning in science right now. what the fuck is an optical phenomenon?! what the fuck is a sonorus?! why the fuck am i learning this, you think, when I could be running free? I could be hanging out with my friends , making silly tiktoks and actually living!

your head drops onto the wooden table, as you groan. "why can't we learn about aliens?" you ask yourself, "aliens are actually interesting. and some may even be hot." you say, "most aliens are hot." honestly, you don't even know what you're saying. you just want an excuse to not do this homework. whether it be by sleeping, watching a movie, hell- maybe even writing fanfiction and posting it on some deadbeat app would be better than this! anything would be better, you concluded.

you raise your head, fast— too fast, that you can't calculate when to stop. you forget the affect that raising your head quickly has on you— and you begin to get a bit woozy.

then your head hits the wall.

blobs of black follow after.

you don't know what to do, you don't know what to say— God, you've been needing a break for so long. as more blobs cloud your vision and as more of your thoughts overlap eachother— your eyes start to get heavier. damn, you didn't know simply hitting your head on a wall could do that shit. atleast you don't have to do your science homework. wait, will you still have to do it even though you blacked out? you should ask Ms. M about that..

out of all the thoughts, however, one seems to be a constant.

i hope im out long enough to be absent for the rest of the week.

the lab was always a constant for norm. it served as a way to get lost in himself, in his work— and right now, he really needed it. they were in the process of building a lab some where near awa'atlu, somewhere near the sullys. it was almost done, but the natives thoughts on it weren't. every time norm stepped out of that lab, unwelcoming glares from the metkayinan people. still, he went on. he tried to better his relationship with them, to learn their ways, to adapt— just as jake and his family did. it was still a work in progress, but it was going good. he was doing good.

being so dedicated to adapting and learning these past few days, he cherished these moments of calm. he was back in his human hold— reading over metkayinan books. his five fingers turned the page of the book, gently; his five fingers— calloused, tired, and yet still... they were relaxed. all of him was relaxed. he felt like he was floating, like he was in a sensorial deprivation chamber — from back on earth. he felt just that. he felt like all of his senses were sucked away temporarily, with all he could feel being the slow pace of his thoughts as they skimmed through a book.

he cherished these moments. he cherished this moment.

you, however, did not. you think you're about to wake up in your pretty little bed but NO. God has other plans for you because apparently hell is too merciful and you feel like you're about to puke. suddenly, you're in a fucking... rainbow or something. maybe it's the bifrost. it's probably the bifrost. when did thor exist? you didn't know and didn't care. you're seven seconds away from absolutely deteriorating and you feel shittier knowing you didn't even get a chance to shower one last time before drowning! then again, you showered yesterday but you wanted to feel that sprinkling water on your skin before you fucking died! what the fuck, universe?! you thought— the universe didn't answer.

you feel like you got thrown off the roof and these are your last moments before you eventually splat on the floor and die. like literally, bones broken and all. your whole life fucking flashes before your eyes, pictures of you and your friends, of your family— the tears you shed because of them, because of school, because of everything.

you think,

perhaps this is mercy.

still, The Great Mother has other plans.

you splat face first into norm's desk.

he jolts away from you instinctively, the book in his hands discarded as he looks at the fellow human that just came out of nowhere. did the wind carry you here? he didn't want a part in this. you, on the other hand, don't know how the fuck you aren't dead — all you know is that you have a raging headache. you push yourself up, weakly, and criss-cross your legs on norms desk— hand on your head as you let out a big sigh. "fuuuuck..." you say, and your voice is so weak, quiet, & pained. it tugs at norm's heart strings.

then again, he's always had a soft spot for kids like you. even if they ruined his desk.

he coughs to get your attention. your eyes look up at him, and he awkwardly waves "hi?" he says, not sure how to react, "why are you on my desk?"

the headache is long forgotten now, as you jump off his desk and try to grab at anything to use as a weapon. he raises both his hands up— trying to show you he means no harm, and you near hiss, survival instincts kick in. "you are absolutely INSANE. CRAZY. APESHIT. BALLISTIC. if you think I am trusting anyone that lives in a mad science LAB !" you yell, gesturing to your surroundings. this was the most mad scientist core place of your life. "where the fuck am i?!" you ask, tears near. you don't know where you are. you don't know the people here. you don't know what these devices are. you just want to go home already.

norm pities you.

"hey, hey— listen, 'm not gonna hurt you. 'm not gonna hurt you." he reassured, as gently as possible— you back away from him, but that only encourages him to take one step closer to you. his arms remain in the air, "I mean no harm. my name is Norm Spellman. I'm a scientist here at Pandora, and I'm also an operator. I got no experience with weapons. none at all." he tried to joke in his intro, tried to reassure you once more— and you hate to admitit, but it worked. now , you were just confused. you stepped towards him, tears dripping down your cheeks— voice shaky, and yet you stepped towards him— some part of you felt gravitated towards him, for it seemed like the universe had deemed him safe. safe for you. "my name is y/n." you replied, he smiled. "nice to meet you, y/n."

you nodded, eyes still blurry with tears. norm didn't say anything, he just patted your back & beckoned you to sit down. for a while, you stayed like that.

you stayed like that, until finally, you licked your chapped lips and — getting through multiple voice cracks & loads of tears, asked,

"what year is it?"

it wasn't a question you'd ask usually, but faced with guns that could aim themselves— with phones so advanced that your phone couldn't compete, god forbid you don't ask. norm looks at you, your obsolete clothes, your worn out phone that did not look like a phone at all— and your reactions to the environment that surrounded you. he knew that you were not from here, and in the most literal way possible. you were not from this time period. norm pursed his lips, "twenty one seven-ty..." he replied, dragging the y. your eyes bulged, and you slowly looked toward the floor to calculate how far into time you've gone.

it was 2170 here. you were in 2023.

2023 minus 2170.

one hundred fourty seven.

your face contorts into an expression so shocked, so horrifically terrified— that norm can tell from eight hundred miles that you're scared.

you look at him again, and say, to his utter horror—

"do you have a gun on you?"

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raya-rhaenyra-ahsoka · 4 months

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My thoughts on Ep. 4 - I Plunge to My Death, A rant

First off, Sally and baby Percy scene was so cute. I swear to god, no one will ever top Sally Jackson for being the best mortal parent in the series.

That Percabeth bonding scene in the train. Bruh, I cannot wait for the Kindness International truck and Waterland scenes.

Annabeth opening up about her Dad and Percy utterly shocked that not all mortal parents are like his Mom.

Frederick’s college ring on Annabeth’s necklace. To non book-readers, yes, that's her Dad's name.

Annabeth having to earn Thalia’s respect.

Luke caring for Annabeth right away just makes it more gut-wrenching and heart-breaking with what he’s about to do. (SPOILER ALERT) “Family, Luke. You promised.”

Grover being super grouchy when he doesn’t get enough sleep. And as someone in their twenties, I totally could relate to him.

This convo:

Percy : Can I ask a dumb question?

Annabeth: It's like you need me to make fun of you.

That's it, that's their relationship.

Mentioning the god of the wild, Pan, and that there are searchers for him.

How that convo basically went:

Train Cop: I don’t think you wanna take that tone with me, little girl.

Annabeth: EXFUCKINGCUSE ME?

Grover: Annabeth, no-!

Echidna calling the cops on 3 minors, just screams typical Karen behavior.

The St. Louis Arch being an actual temple of Athena is a nice change from Annabeth just wanting to go sightseeing.

This convo:

Percy: You've done more for me in the past few days than my father has done in my entire life. If I had to stick with someone, I-

Annabeth: Careful, I think you were about to call me a friend.

Percy: *stumbles because of the poison from the stinger*

Annabeth: *catches him*

Again, that’s their relationship.

Annabeth and Grover splashing water at Percy at a fountain when there’s a big-ass river nearby. Idk, but I find that funny.

Athena letting Echidna and the Chimera into the Arch because it wounded her pride? OH, HELL NO!

Athena’s Logic: Punish her devotee because someone close to them did something that wounded her pride. Medusa=Poseidon; Annabeth=Percy. She didn’t even gave a f*ck that the devotee in question is her own daughter. WTF, ATHENA!

I always thought Zeus has the crown for being the deadbeat absent godly parent, but Athena is slowly giving him a run for his money.

Annabeth deciding to sacrifice herself so Percy and Grover can continue the quest. WTF!

Percy tricking Annabeth into taking the final stand himself. Dude, your fatal flaw is showing.

Annabeth having to deal with a forbidden child sacrificing themselves for her safety AGAIN (With Thalia, and now Percy). Girl must be traumatized.

Grover having to go through it again as well.

The Chimera being terrifying than how non clear-sighted mortals see it.

Poseidon “always been here/so hard for me to stand back” Daddy to the rescue.

This:

Percy: *gets stuck underwater*

Nereid: It’s okay. You father sent me-

Percy: Oh, hell no! *tries to swim harder*

Percy only now realizing he can breath underwater. Like, of course, he can. He's Poseidon's kid.

We're only in Episode 4 and it's already so good. Can't wait for the episode 5.

#pjo tv show #pjo tv series #percy jackson spoilers #percy jackson tv series #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #luke castellan #thalia grace #frederick chase #sally jackson

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froody · 6 months

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leaving your wife and kids to start a new life is the ultimate douchebag move. at the same time I am much more entertained by the cases where a dad elaborately fakes his death instead of just going out for the milk. doing months of scheming and concocting a movie like plot so you’re remembered as an honorable family man instead of a deadbeat absent daddy. insurance money. no awkward questions for the kid to ask their mom. all assets go to her.

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anthurak · 25 days

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One thing that always feels so funny for me when it comes to the Rosebird Parents Theory isn’t when people simply disagree with the theory, but rather people apparently seeing the prospect of a ‘Raven is Ruby’s real father’ reveal to be this totally unthinkable thing and how could anyone ever think this could happen?!

Because once you get past the whole ‘two ladies making a baby’ hurtle, Raven being Ruby’s dad really fits into so many well-known fantasy/sci-fi tropes. Many of which RWBY notably has not done yet, or have already been tied to Raven herself.

I mean, the mysterious villainous and/or anti-heroic loner with ties to the family pulling an ‘I am your Father’ reveal on the protagonist? That’s a fucking CLASSIC. Hell, let’s consider a few things about Raven:

Big, intimidating helmet.

Clear Samurai inspiration.

Wields a katana-like sword that technically has an energy blade (dust=energy) which is generally RED-colored.

Possesses mysterious and terrible over-worldly powers.

Has a mysterious past tied to our protagonist’(s) family.

Was probably in love with our protagonist’s (apparently) dead mother.

Yeah I’d say Raven makes for a pretty good Darth Vader-expy.*

Beyond that specific case, we’ve already seen the story connect Raven to a BUNCH of ‘mysterious and angsty deadbeat dad who left their kid for unclear reasons’ tropes when it comes to Yang. Why not have those apply to Ruby as well? People have been clamoring for years about wanting to see Summer’s narrative dynamic with Yang explored as much as the one she has with Ruby, so why not have the reverse be true with Raven and Ruby as well?

After all, it seems that the story has now given Ruby a reason to seek Raven for answers just as Yang once did.

And as I’ve noted in previous Rosebird Parents posts, No I don’t believe Raven also being Ruby’s deadbeat dad would be somehow ‘redundant’. Particularly because the context is completely different: Yang has known that Raven is her birth-mother for most of her life, whereas Ruby would only just now be finding out that Raven is her birth-father. Far from being redundant, this would allow the story to explore two very different responses of kids to an absent parent: One who has had to live with the knowledge of that absent parent for years, and one who hasn’t and has to deal with this NEW information suddenly getting dropped on her.

Plus, as I alluded to earlier, it’s rather notable that RWBY hasn’t done some big ‘dramatic parent reveal’, given how much of a staple it is to the genre. And given how reimagining, twisting and flipping classic and well-worn fairytale/folklore/fantasy tropes (often via playing with gender-roles) is basically RWBY’s bread and butter at this point, I’d say giving the series heroine an ‘I am your father’ reveal from a woman would fit PERFECTLY in this series.

And if you’re going to ask ‘but how do two ladies make baby?!?’,

Raven can be intersex. Boom. Done.

Alternatively, magic.

As an aside, yes Summer being trans is a perfectly viable alternative. I just think logistically speaking, Raven being intersex and being Ruby’s ‘father’ makes a dramatic reveal a bit more streamlined. Also, the idea of Raven managing to be BOTH a deadbeat mom AND a deadbeat dad is just too funny XD

*Of course, this comparison gets even more fun when we consider Summer having her own Vader-parallels, ie; Summer almost certainly being taken by Salem and given what we can probably assume to be a Vader-esque makeover via grimm-hybridization in setup for a big reveal. So when we combine this with Raven, I think we can view what happened on their last mission as ‘What if Padme/Obi-wan got turned into Vader INSTEAD of Anakin?’ Like Raven in the present is basically Anakin doing Obi-wan’s traumatized hermit shtick, except all angry and edgy because it’s still Anakin.

#rwby #rwby theory #Raven Branwen #Ruby Rose #Summer Rose #rosebird #rosebird parents #rosebird parents theory #star wars references #guess who's back on their bullshit? XD

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wildemaven · 11 months

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Sweet Creature: Chapter One

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (In future chapters)

WC: 4070

Summary: A washed up movie star with a failing career, fresh out of rehab and looking to turn his life around. He moves back to his small hometown to take a break from stardom and help his sister out with his niece— He’s traded the high-life for school runs and crafting. What he doesn’t except is to meet you, his niece’s school teacher who couldn’t care less about his extensive filmography or his dwindling fame.

Warning: 18+ Blog; brief description of drug use, rehabilitation/mentions of rehab stay, getting treatment for drug addiction, absent parents, anxiety, sister giving ultimatum, apologetic Dieter, determined to turn life around, cursing, if I’ve missed anything feel free to let me know.

A/N: Firstly, big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for listening to me drone on about this! And for also being a champ and beta’ing for me too!!

This chapter has some heavy elements to it, and I hope it comes across as a serious tone considering the topic of drug usage. I wanted Dieter to be deliberate in his attempt to better himself. There might be some reference to this characters contents in the future, but this will be the only one containing any actual drugs. There’s a lot of information packed into this chapter to help get the story going. I’ve been so blown away by the responses to this series and I really hope I do it justice! Any questions/comments/or you just want to chat more about this chapter, my ask box is always open!! xx

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

A few sharp knocks on the bathroom door.

“Hello?? Is someone in there?”

No response.

The slightest twist of the knob. Unlocked. Unoccupied.

Only the opening of the door reveals quite the opposite. Occupied.

“Oh! I’m so so sor— Oh my god! Are you fucking serious right now?! You’re getting high at a 6 year old’s birthday party!”

No response. Just a deadpan look of nothingness from the body propped up next to the toilet.

“I fucking knew it. I knew you would fucking let her down!! God!!! You’re such a fucking deadbeat, washed up douchebag— so fucking ridiculous.”

“W-whyy a-rrre y-youuu yellllling? Shhhhh!” His speech laden with a hint of sarcasm.

“You’re a fucking joke! I can’t believe you would do this to your sister!”

“What are you yelling about in here?? Wren is getting ready to open her presents and wants everyone to watch her. Dieter why are you on the flo— are you fucking high?”

“Ag-ainnn shhhhhhh!” His pointer finger emphatically raised to his lips, the noise too much for his dazed mind.

“You promised me Dieter! You fucking promised me no drugs! I should have known better, I should have fucking known you’d do this— you don’t care about how much this hurts me to see you like this, constantly letting me down. I’m done Dieter, I’m so fucking done trying to help you if you’re not going to help yourself. Fuck! Get the fuck out! Go! Now!! I don’t want you near us, I won’t put Wren through this. Get help or stay away!”

The door slams, Dieter left alone to ruminate over what was said in the small tiled space.

Even in his stupefied state, the words thrown at him were enough to make an immediate impact. The cognitive part of his brain working over time to push through and make a levelheaded thought.

“Deadbeat”

“Washed up”

“Get help or Stay away”

Reaching for his phone, he dials his lifeline who drops everything for him, probably due to her reoccurring paycheck, his assistant whom he’s thankful doesn’t hate him enough to ignore his call out of the blue.

“Heeeey! I n-neeeed y-you to c-ommme g-get meee…”

He knew this was it, he had to get his shit together or suffer the consequences.

He feels different if he’s being honest with himself.

Lighter.

Healthier.

Alive.

365 days clean. He made a commitment to a year long stay at a drug rehabilitation center, followed by a 3 month residency in a sober living facility conveniently tucked away in the Hollywood hills.

Yet, he feels more lost than he was before he started treatment.

He can’t remember what living a normal, healthy life is like— a life not high out of his mind 24/7.

This wasn’t his first time trying to get clean, he’d become a regular of sorts at a few different rehab centers scattered through out the greater Los Angeles area.

Each stay with the same goal and each one a failed attempt at getting control over his life without the drugs.

It was never “hope this is the time it really clicks for him”, it was always a question of “how long will he go this time before he’s kicked out and checking into the next one”— might have even been a headline a time or two.

Many centers refusing to even consider treating him based on his past reputation alone.

His agent’s patience was wearing thin trying to book roles for Dieter, doing his best to convince directors he wasn’t a liability and he could get the job done with zero risk in hiring him— it was far from the truth.

Each day on set became a game of Russian Roulette, no one really knowing which side of Dieter they would be dealing with while shooting. That in itself was a metaphorical high he chased with each role he booked, seeing how long before some one caught on to his slurred words, blood shot eyes and sluggish demeanor.

On numerous occasions Dieter thought he was skillful in his ability to mask his inebriated ego. He was combative with the crew and fellow actors— his temperament calm and mellow one moment, then seething and dripping with rage the next.

He was getting sloppy. The teetering domino of his life had slowly began to tip and once it did finally fall, his entire life crumbling around him.

The traffic is heavier than expected. Dieter wonders if it’s due to others similarly seeking to leave the city in hopes for a break from the dim aura that Los Angeles is. He can feel the weight of the city’s reputation lift from his shoulders with each passing mile as he maneuvers through the stretch of freeway congestion.

A few honking horns bring his attention back to the conversation he’s currently semi engaged in.

“This is a big step Dieter. I’m really proud of how far you’ve come.”

He instantly cringes at the thought of getting back out to sell himself for roles. Facing those who were- and are- tired of his shit.

The downfall of his career began when he was late for dress rehearsal for a role he some how managed to get— this role having potential to get him in the running for award nominations, propelling his career to new heights. But when he was no where to be found at call time, his assistant went on the search for him and it’s where she found him passed out in his trailer. He was too far gone to even pull himself together, prompting the director to fire him on the spot.

The rate of speed at which news travels in Hollywood is the equivalent to a fast moving wildfire— once that first bit of gossip hits the ground, it’s spreading through the industry with a sudden surge of ferocity and growing far beyond what is predictable.

His agent's attempt at damage control was a wasted effort. Directors dumping Dieter’s preproduction roles, actors refusing to work with him and threatening to quit if Dieter stayed on— his list of films beginning to dwindle in a matter of days and by the end of the week, Dieter Bravo was jobless.

“The next few months will go by quickly, and before you know it you’ll be back out here booking jobs and proving everyone wrong.”

Vanessa, Dieter’s assistant and full time babysitter, always seemed to have a way to make him feel at ease. And at this point, the only person he knew who believed he could actually turn his life around.

“I really fucking hope so.” He sighs, this was his attempt at thinking positive.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Her voice cracking through the car speakers as he continues his drive north on the 101.

“Briefly. Told her I’d probably be getting in around 6 or so— BEEP!— Watch out asshole!” Throwing a middle finger at said asshole driver who nearly missed clipping his car.

“She’s proud of you too, ya know. Might not seem like it right now, but she is.”

“Hmm. I’ll just agree to disagree with you on that point. Having a drug addict—“

“Former drug addicted, Dieter.”

“Right— well, having a deadbeat for an older brother doesn’t really leave a lot to be proud of.”

“You’d be surprised. Hey, I got another call coming in. I’ll be in touch with you soon! Call me if you need anything! Again, Dieter, I'm really proud of you!”

“Thanks Nessa! I’ll talk to you soon.”

The call ending abruptly, leaving him to sit alone in his thoughts for the next hour and a half—something he hasn’t really taken the chance to experience since, well, a long while.

The Santa Monica Mountains provide a scenic view as he leaves behind the place he saw as his home for the last 20 years.

His current destination plugged into his stupidly expensive sports car.

Home. Where he grew up.

He can’t even remember the last time he visited. Not due to the years as an actor taking him to all areas of the world. The last time he had been home was just over a year ago and he was high out of his mind, barely remembering the trip as a whole.

His sister had asked if he’d be able to make it to his niece’s birthday. She was turning 6 and had been begging for her uncle to be there to celebrate with— he was easily her most favorite person. The specifics of the getting to his sister’s home and the actual party are pretty blurry for Dieter.

Dieter spent most of the last year trying to produce a coherent flashback of the day that would ultimately be his last time using, the reason for his commitment to getting his life together.

He never expected the lowest point in his life would be being caught in the bathroom of his sister’s home doing a few quick lines on the toilet seat, as his niece was blowing out 6 candles a few feet outside the tiny bathroom surrounded by friends and family.

The moments following are a mixture of hazy clips, fragmented bits of information,

he’s tried to piece together to the best of his ability.

The rush of someone bursting through the bathroom door, the echoes of laughter and music piercing his ears as he’s hunched on the floor against the wall, little specks of a white powdery residue dusting his mustache.

There’s screaming as he does his best to focus his blurry attention on the distorted enraged figure in front of him, yelling something about being washed up— his eye lids heavy and fighting against them to keep them opened.

If he had to recall the exact moment he knew he fucked up, it was seeing the hurt and disappointment on his sister's face— her face wet with tears as she poured out her disappointment and pain over the fact that he was strung-out at her daughter’s birthday party. The weight of his consequences bleeding through him as he vividly recalls his sister telling him to leave and not come back unless he was sober.

The next day he checked himself in, determined to get his life together for good.

He shakes away the subtle tinge of guilt that starts to bubble up in his chest.

Remembering the ‘54321 Method’ he was taught in treatment to help ground himself when his thoughts start to become overwhelming…

5 things you see: the sun slowly making its way to the horizon, cars moving swiftly by his own, Live Oak trees rooted among the mountains, the slightest twinkling of the first few stars, his reflection in the rear view mirror— lighter, healthier, alive.

4 things things to touch: the leather of the steering wheel, his jeans fabric soft and comfortable, the cool metal of his rings adorning his fingers, the weight of his sobriety chip in his pocket a constant reminder of how far he’s come.

3 things you hear: the familiar beat of a popular song streaming through the car speakers, rhythmic tapping of his thumbs in tune with the song, his off-key voice as he sings along to the words he knows.

2 things you smell: his olfactory nerve triggered at the distinct scent of his woody amber cologne, that new car smell that still lingers throughout the car’s interior.

1 thing you taste: a minty tingle on his tongue as he chews his last piece of gum.

His nerves settle, his eyes focused on the road ahead, deciding he’ll right his wrongs when he gets to his stop— his sister’s house.

The trip took longer than he’d originally planned. Weekend traffic to blame for the 2 hour delay in his arrival.

‘Welcome to Ojai’— the stone sign greets him, dim uplighting barely making it readable as he turns on to the familiar street.

The town is all but empty at this time of the night, street lights plus the few restaurants and bars that are open give off enough ambient light to drape the streets in a subtle glow.

He’s instantly taken back to his childhood, so many memories tucked away throughout the picturesque landscape.

Growing up with famous parents wasn’t all that glamorous in Dieter’s eyes.

Dieter’s parents, Dean and Mary Bravo, were both well known in the tv and movie world.

Dean had been known for his roles in James Bond-esque action films through his career, notably his best work among other smaller productions he worked on. Mary was the queen of daytime television with her numerous roles in soap opera’s biggest shows, a socialite getting invited to glamorous events and elite celebrity parties.

Together they were Hollywood’s “It” couple, jet-setting to all parts of the world when schedules allowed for it.

Dieter and his younger sister, while born into this movie star family, were raised far from it. Dean and Mary deciding to buy a home in the mountains outside of the headlines and prying eyes, a place where their kids could live a some what normal life.

Normal was anything but normal. Dean and Mary didn’t let children hold back their lives and desires of more fame. Leaving them with nannies so they could keep up with the demands of working and living their best lives.

Ojai, a small village-like town nestled in the valley of the Topanga Mountains, became a literal playground for Dieter growing up.

Little reminders of his childhood still remain as he ventures further into town. He finds himself slowing the car a bit as he takes it all in, rolling the window down to let the evening air hit his face— it’s crisp as it trickles across his skin.

The private school he attended all through his schooling years sits on top of a hill that over looks the valley. The school’s reputation was highly regarded and offered a plethora of academic courses and electives. Dieter found the art and theater programs to be where he excelled most, painting and acting fueled his passion for the arts, propelling him into pursuing one as a full time career.

He spots Bart’s Books as he drives on, an outdoor bookstore, that had become a daily hangout as a kid. The red wooden shelves still filled with adventures and history to get lost in. He discovered his love for storytelling sitting on the covered patio, nose deep in fictional worlds he dreamed of visiting.

Across the way, a ‘no vacancy’ neon sign flickers on. Capri Hotel, a newly renovated hotel that still looks like it could have come straight from the 1960s with its mid-century design and modern style. He recalls the summer when him and his buddies regularly jumped the fence to swim in the pool, the cool water under the stars was refreshing during the California heat waves. They managed to only get caught once but worked out a barter with the then owners, they clean the pool and in turn can use the pool at their leisure. The hotel seems to be under new ownership now, but it seems to be doing well.

On every corner there’s an art gallery. Some still looking as if no time had passed, others adorn new names and a fresh coat of paint. Several galleries offered summer painting classes, where Dieter found he had more creative freedom than in school to explore all mediums and really honing in on his style. He’s always imagined he’d have his own showing of his paintings, friends and family gathering to see his work— a dream he never lived out.

His car parked and engine killed, he still hasn’t found the courage to get out. He can see a few lights on from the front windows of his sister’s quaint Spanish style home. Trying to not let the vague memories of his last visit deter him from going inside. He sends Vanessa a text, letting her know he’d made it safely and that he’d text her if he needed anything.

Bags in tow, he makes his way to the front door. Nerves and emotions swirling around, reminding himself to breathe, letting go of the fear and expectations he’d had for this reunion.

He opts for knocking, assuming Wren would be sleeping at this hour.

The clicking of locks being turned, twisting of the door knob, the black wooden door swings open to the space that’s haunted him for the last year.

“Hey, Diem. Sorry I’m so—“ He starts to explain his lateness before he’s cut off.

“Dieter! Oh my god! I thought something happened to you! What the fuck?!” Her body launches at him, arms wrapping around him securely. He accepts the impromptu hug, dropping his bags to return the gesture.

“No, no I’m good. Traffic was a nightmare and by the time I thought to call, service was fucked. Sorry for making you worry.”

“You’re here and you’re safe— that’s all that matters.”

This greeting is going far better than he had expected, but he hasn’t made over the threshold, still plenty of time for Diem to drop the hammer on him.

“Come in! Let’s get you all settled in.” She ushers him in, closing the door and adjusting the locks again.

He takes the space in, noting not much has changed from what he can tell in the diffused lighting, but he feels warm and welcoming even for him.

“I got the spare room all cleaned and ready for you. New sheets on the bed and a few extra pillows just in case.” She seems skittish moving about the living room, picking up the few toys laying around the room and placing them back in their designated baskets. “If you want to sit, make yourself comfortable. You want anything to drink? Eat?”

She seems just as nervous as he is and that makes him feel less anxious for some reason.

“I grabbed some food on the way, I’m good.” Setting his bags down, he makes his way to the couch and sits down, deciding to rip the bandage off so to speak.

Diem taking his lead, sits on the opposite end of the couch, legs tucked under her and hands resting on her lap. A lull hangs over them for a few moments, neither really know what to say or do. He notices her fingers fidgeting and decides to break the silence.

“I know we haven’t talked much since the last time I was here,” He sees the brief wince on her face at the mention of it, as if she’d been actively trying to avoid talking about it. “But I want to tell you how sorry I am for—“

“Dieter, you don’t have to.”

“No, actually I do. And I’m going to. Not only because it’s part of my steps in recovery, but because you deserve it— Wren deserves it.”

“She doesn’t know— about the drugs or you going to rehab.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it.

“I won’t mention it to her then.”

“I just told her you were busy and that you’d be coming to spend time with us 'cause you missed her.”

“Why did you agree? After all the shit I’ve done and put you through, why are you letting me stay here?”

That gets her attention, her eyes glossy with unshed tears as she looks at him with nothing but love and forgiveness. “Because you’re my brother and I want you here, despite all the shit you put me through.”

He shifts closer to where she’s sitting, wiping the few tears that had decided to fall. He doesn’t think he deserves her kindness, but is grateful he has this opportunity to do what he’s been wanting to do.

“I’m sorry for the pain and hurt that I caused you. Not only at Wren’s party, but all the other times I’d said I was clean and wasn’t. For putting you both second to my addiction. I’m sorry for not being here when you needed me most. I promise I’m going to do my best to earn your trust and prove to you that I am committed to my sobriety.”

Leaning back, his hand digs into his pocket pulling out his proof, grabbing Diem’s hand and turns it over placing the chip in her palm. She looks at it then back at him, the most genuine smile graces her face before she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him in for a hug.

“I love you Dieter! Thank you for not only doing this for us, but for yourself as well. I’m really proud of you.”

“I love you too Diem.”

Releasing Dieter from the hug, she adjusts herself back to her previous position, now more relaxed with her elbow resting on the back of the couch propping her head up as she looks at Dieter, really taking in how healthy he looks since she’d last seen him.

“Thank you for also letting me stay here. I needed to get out of the city for a bit, clear my head and shit. Should only be a few months or less, until I can get a few things lined up— have a few potential projects I requested scripts for.”

The thought of returning to his old ways terrified him, he had all the tools and support to continue working on himself outside of treatment, but he didn’t want to chance it. He instantly knew exactly where he wanted to spend the next few months re-acclimating back into this new way of living, away from temptation. Knowing their last conversation was anything but great, he'd decided an e-mail felt less grievous and hoped she’d find it in her heart to accept him back in her home again.

“Of course. Stay as long as you need to.”

“And I can help how ever you need me to, figured it would keep me busy doing stuff, help out with Wren.”

“Oh my gosh, please! It’s peak tourist season the next few weeks at the Hotel and I’ve got a handful of events we’re hosting too. School runs would be a big help for me.”

“Hotel?” He’s sure he heard her right but doesn’t remember any mention of a hotel that he can recall.

“Funny story actually-- I bought the Capri last year. Did some renovations and it’s been great really. Keeps me busy most of the time, but I love it.”

Diem was never one for the spotlight, especially with movie star family members, actively avoiding anything to do with Hollywood and its ostentatious air. She always had a knack for making drab things look enticing, so Dieter isn’t surprised one bit by the mention of her being the new owner of the Capri Hotel.

“And now that I’m the owner, you can swim for free— pool cleaning is encouraged too.” He laughs at that.

“Congrats on owning a hotel I guess. I’ll definitely be taking advantage of swimming privileges then.”

“Alright. I’m going to head to bed, got an early morning dropping Wren off before I meet with the planner for our next event.”

“I can take her tomorrow.”

“You sure? You don’t want to settle in a bit first?”

“Nah, it’ll be nice spending some time with her.”

“Okay. Prepare yourself for a wild time then.”

She kisses the top of his head before heading in the direction of her room. Stopping before turning down the hall, she looks back at Dieter who hasn’t moved from the couch, one of his hands rubbing at the opposite shoulder and leaning his head to the side to stretch it out a bit— the longer car rides really doing a number on him.

“Dieter—“

His head turns towards the direction of his name being called.

"Hmm?"

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #sweet creature series #Pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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