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#so here's the obscure character i was talking about
tarjapearce · 3 days
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Mi Dulce Cereza
Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader
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Synopsis: Revenge's path is never an easy feat. Not when love for the enemy and other feelings get in the way. Would it rise and come out as a victor? Or would it succumb to the sweetest of beings?
WARNING: Novela level drama, Toxic relationships, character introduction, mild and brief sexual tension, No use of YN, Family feud, scheming, disingenuous behaviors. No proofread
Summary: Miguel's revenge is set into motion.
A/N: Centuries later, here it is <3, hope you enjoy this new version! So nervous about this jskjs. Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 for the help <3
"Ma!"
The ten-year-old boy called, desperate as he searched and scourged the house he lived in, to eventually find her mother in his younger brother's room.
Ravenous and long curls adorned her back. Brown beautiful eyes stared with adoration at the little six-year-old boy, carefully tucked in her arms as she combed her child's wavy strands away from his innocent face.
"Ma!" the boy called a bit more urgent as he tugged on her skirt, earning him a hushed grunt from her.
"Gabriel está durmiendo, Miguel!" (Gabriel is sleeping)
"No, Ma! Debes venir a la entrada! Hay gente buscando a George!" (You gotta come to the door! There's people looking for George!)
Conchata quickly put Gabriel into his crib and darted to the entrance. Panic and bile rose in her insides.
The banging on the feeble and rusty metal doors alarmed Conchata the more she approached the main hacienda's door.
Much to her and Miguel's surprise a group of men, awaited outside. Dressed in the blue and white colors proper of a Santa Margarita's Town police officer.
Miguel's eyes wandered over the guns that nested on the men's hips as they rode their horses haughtily. But paid special attention to the man leading them.
Hardened and weathered face, partially obscured by his camel brown Stetson hat, dressed up sharply, letting his belt and the overall imposing aura to do the talk for him, same as his horse and everything that donned his body. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Conchata.
"Miss Stone. I believe it's the third time I ask for you to leave" He acknowledged sternly.
A surname that made Miguel's churn in utter discomfort, but his mother always told him to give that name to strangers, since the O'Hara was only for the family. But even that one didn't sit right in his heart either. Not when the provider of such surname had been long gone from their lives, with no intention of returning.
And the men before his home were everything but familiar, strangers at best. Invaders. Trespassers with a penchant for intimidation as they were all armed to the teeth.
"The hell you want?!" Conchata crossed her arms and returned the steely glare the handsome and powerful man gave her.
His mother's bravado was certainly something Miguel could look up, despite the woman not being her best title of mother with him. But her bravery made him courageous.
"For you to leave my property."
"What are you talking about?! This is not your property, Anderton!"
A man like Pastor William was hard to ignore, not when power and influences oozed from him by merely existing.
"It is. You're living in Edenton's. Half the area is mine now."
"I have my property papers! This is outright ridiculous!" Conchata huffed as she sent Miguel to to get them.
"My lawyer is here. So we can have this settled once for all."
"There is nothing to settle!, I told your people I wouldn't sell my home and now you're acting far from someone that believes in God to get it!, maldita rata!" (fucking rat)
William narrowed his eyes at the last words that spilled with venom from Conchata's plump lips. He wasn't a man to give easily into anger, but his patience wasn't something to be tested either.
He had bought a good chunk of Edenton's territory and much to Conchata's dismay her home was right in the middle of said property.
The boy wasted no time into retrieving her mother's proofs of ownership as she opened the door to see the man that ground her nerves in seconds. Face to face.
And when the policeman and lawyer took a brief look at them, they could only snort in derision upon reading them.
"Not only are they outdated, but the important signatures are missing. This is fake."
Conchata paled, and she clutched her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she had to grab Miguel's lanky arm to support herself. Everything was slowly falling apart.
"Ma?"
Her boy looked up at her, concern plastered over his young yet understanding face
"T-That cannot be! George left it all arranged before leaving!"
"He didn't. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."
William gave the papers to his lawyer as he climbed off the horse and Conchata immediately tried to get them back, but tore them im the process
"No! No! That's not true! My papers " She shrieked and the police officer intervened as soon as she tried to go for Anderton's lawyer.
"Stop! " Miguel was held back after kicking the officer's shin.
Conchata freed herself from the guard's grip, only to deliver a hard slap on William's face.
"La vas a pagar caro cabrón! A mi nadie me sacará de mi casa!" (You'll pay for this. None kicks me out of my home!)
The officers held Conchata back and Miguel, since the boy attempted to defend the remnants of his mother's dignity. But there was little they could do.
Conchata's land was prosperous, and so far it provided a good income to live rather peacefully and away from the rest. Until now.
William was rather strict and apprehensive about his properties. He owed half the town, and for Conchata to live there, right in the spot he wanted to build his home for his new family, rendered nothing but a black and ugly spot to his future dream.
Buthe would erase it. And if he needed to get over the law, to get it, he would. Influences had their perks. And these worked to his favor without a hitch.
"I'll give you three days for you to pack it up 'n leave."
"Three days?! Where am I going to find a place to live? My children... I can't leave-"
"I'm sure the local shelters will take you in gladly. Be grateful I got you time."
William seethed with his usual calm, sending shivers down Miguel's spine, as the boy held onto his mother's skirt.
The men turned around in their horses and soon began galloping away, but William got up on the beast back, remaining high and proud. Looking down at him.
For a man to make Conchata to clutch and hold on to him so protectively, meant she had no power at all. That she had been defeated. Something his childish brain thought impossible.
It reminded him the ways she sometimes protected him and Gabriel from George in his usual drunk fits.
That day, Pastor William Anderton remained forever engraved in Miguel's core memories and in his heart's growing rage.
Resentment wasn't often a feeling a boy so young like him should experience. But there he was, memorizing every dip, pore and soft wrinkle from the man's features so his heart and mind wouldn't forget him.
So he wouldn't forget who had been the monster that forced his family to leave and abandon everything he had known so far.
Miguel O'Hara had no longer a home.
But if there was something William had forgotten, was to never scorn a woman. Much less one with a fiery temper and a heart full of fresh wounds.
He had doused her wounded heart in salt, rubbed with it and then tossed it to the fire. To let it break and burn to ashes.
William hadn't shown mercy, despite the word coming from his mouth every Sunday in his church as part of his speech to the masses.
But Conchata's mind was already turning and plotting.
----
Miguel's upbringing was everything but easy, but that didn't stop him from achieving whatever goals he proposed.
Shelters and rental homes were left behind, and soon he earned a scholarship into a college, earning him a degree and masters in agronomy and large-scale management.
Gabriel in the meantime helped Conchata around the house. Having little side hustles for himself.
But as he grew up, so did his hatred for the Andertons. It didn't help that Conchata threw more dry hatred bones to the vengeful fire with her bitter tells. She always boasted on whatever little thing the Andertons did with spite and hatred in her heart.
William's face remained intact in Miguel's brain. Ever hardened and cruel, impassive to anyone else's suffering. Indifferent to his mother's pleas.
The day they left everything they knew, scarred him to this very day. Miguel sworn to one day, he'd owe his own estate, full of everything he always wanted.
He wouldn't have to sojourn through shelters and temporary homes ever again, having a hard time sleeping because of his mother's safety. He wouldn't have to look down in fear and shame when people that breathed and exhaled money, talked to him.
He wouldn't have to see his mother, shitty as she was sometimes, breaking down for not having for the most basic of needs. And he definitely wouldn't let himself to be trampled all over again by anyone. Not rich, nor poor.
Now, with a master's degree in his pocket, a new project rose in his mind. Train and rehab horses professionally. An emerging and blooming business within Santa Margarita.
Everything out of hearing that William entered a new venture. Purebred horses.
Of course a man like him had to be in the mouth of every people in town.
William ran the biggest church in the city, had multiple successful and clean business thanks to his estate, Cherryville. And now, the horses.
A novelty in town. He'd often see through the newspaper images of William and his wife, Rosaura, telling how wonderful and valuable they were for the community, and how much their philanthropic tendencies helped those in need. The man was rotting money after all.
Oh, the irony. Miguel sometimes wondered if William did it out of genuine vocation, cause he had to give the man some credit for keeping a saint facade in front of the rest for so long. He was doing it go hard or go home.
If people only knew the scum he is.
If everyone truly knew who Pastor William J. Anderton was, none would spare him a glance. None would look at his way twice to spare him some kind words. Everyone would shun him and mark him a fraud. His world would collapse. Something Miguel needed to achieve.
The purebred training horse's business opened his contact list, and with his smarts and the follow of his intuition, it took him a couple of years to get him in the map of those that were in dire need of help and could afford it.
Cause if he could exploit the rich, he wouldn't waste the chance of earning good money. Not when his personal estate was under construction and renovations, away in it's own heaven, outside Santa Margarita.
He stopped introducing himself as Miguel Stone long ago. He didn't want anything to do with that surname that stirred nothing but hatred and suffocating anger, towards the man that harmed his little and already broken family even more. And the O'Hara had earned him a bit of reputation.
A credible and respectful renown to meet people that gave him the chance to not only learn from the best horse trainers, but gave him the chance to apply everything he knew. Adding even more value to his resume.
Gabriel also graduated college, following Miguel's steps. Although the latter was more inclined to production than management. He was a more practical man than the over thinker of his brother.
Together they made a phenomenal duo, but when separated, months could pass before they saw eachother again.
But with Miguel's plan running, Gabriel promised him to remain close and available as possible to see it through.
In fact, William sought him out himself to ask him if he could train his horses and took full on responsibility of his farm.
-----
He was ready to set his plan into motion. None other than his number one enemy had hired him.
Miguel's body buzzed with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Being the best to get hired was scratched off his list.
Soon all the hatred festering in his heart to the man that destroyed his childhood and family, would come to fruition. But there was a remaining distraction.
Dana.
"Remind me again, why are you going to a farm to be exploited and mistreated by rich people?"
The soft voice behind him echoed in his room. Miguel sat naked on the bed, as the short-haired brunette with blue eyes hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek and neck.
"Gotta make it as believable as possible if I want to expose the Andertons."
Dana just hummed, seeing him so determined and focused into getting this family feud, settled once and for all, amused her to no end.
Dana rolled her eyes while resting her chin on his sharp and well worked shoulder, "But no need to be so serious."
It was Miguel's turn to roll his eyes and stand up, reaching his underwear in tandem.
"Don't be cold, Miggy. I just wanna see you again, once you're victorious, so we can keep celebrating"
Miguel chuckled with derision as he took a towel and wrapped it up loosely against his waist.
"I'm good, thanks. And there's no we in this."
"Are you sure? I mean, I spread word around on you and look at you now. The best trainer. I'd say I'm also part of this too"
Her voice irked sometimes whenever it got like this. Sickly sweet and full of lies. Even more when she purred nothing but half truths.
In truth, he had met Dana for the past six months, all thanks to Gabriel that suggested her as a contact link to those he wanted to get at. Filthy and obscenely rich people that needed someone to help them out with their properties as soon as possible, to salvage them out of sentimentalism.
Even though the initial chemistry was undeniable, it had worn out thanks to her insufferable and possessive attitude. And no matter how many times he'd tell her a plain and outright No, she kept insisting. She was the one that always returned and always ended up in his bed.
"Yeah, no. Look, I don't want you snooping around. And I mean it."
The only that believed that they were something. Sure, Dana served his purpose to keep those physical urges away, but other than that, there was nothing substantial about her he could say he was attracted to, besides her contacts.
Dana's hands tried to reach him, but Miguel stepped away from her touch, recoiling with haste and heading for the shower.
"If you ruin this for me, I swear, We'll have problems."
More than they already did? Impossible.
Dana just laughed, "Don't be mean, you gotta reward me one way or another for your clientele."
"Dios mio... Con qué loca me vine a enredar" (My God, what a crazy woman I came to get involved with)
He mumbled while stepping into the shower.
"I'll see you soon, baby." Her giggles had his eyes rolling with annoyance and his shoulders squaring.
He'd leave in a couple of hours, to start what his whole self had been preparing for years. Soon the Andertons would know him.
----
Returning to the place he grew up had his stomach in a tight and anxious knot, tighter than a hair's tangle.
The once colorless and rusty metal doors he loved to slam with his soccer ball while playing with Gabriel, were now turned into sturdy, iron structures that moved automatically. Sliding to the side to let him in as soon as he reported himself through the camera's speaker.
A Stony L-shaped wall held a metallic letters into another metallic structure. Cherryville Ranch.
He had arrived and his heart beat at the uncomfortable sensation of seeing his home destroyed and turned into a colonial-like resort.
Where there was a modest yet firm built, one floored home, was now a two floored manor that extended left to right. A vibrant sunset orange dressed the walls of the structure, adding enough color to the place sumptuous grandeur.
The staff ran up and down, bustling and moving like busy ants through the anthill, obeying the queen. Or rather monarchs.
His black Chevrolet Silverado parked outside, following the instructions of a man that gave him the ok with a good smile.
He had arrived ten minutes earlier, just in case. Miguel stepped out and put on his hat.
A black and brown flannel dressed up his torso snugly, a pair of jeans that did a wonderful job into containing his well worked legs, the belt just hugged his narrow waist, accentuating his sculpted physique.
The man offered his help with his suitcase, but Miguel refused with a polite smile.
"Keep going straight and you'll get to Mr. Anderton's office. It's the only brown door in this floor."
Strong hands clenched at the name of his enemy.
"Thanks."
Miguel had to take a moment to breathe in and take his surroundings.
Everything he remembered from his childhood, gone. His heart felt mike coming home to a stranger's home. Foraying in someone else's territory.
A someone that obliterated every single bit of his childhood, every piece of memory he created with Gabriel, forever gone and buried.
Replaced with over the top decors, a fake sense of coziness, hidden lies embedded in the sunset like sturdy walls, and people he once strived to be like. All now trespassers and inconnus.
Conchata always fed his brain into believing greater things, alway encouraged him to keep the hatred alive.
Would she be proud to see how far on his plan had he gotten? Probably. Even if she was busy with her new boyfriend that provided everything.
Some women shushed and spilled their gasp as he passed, leaving his presence alone to do the talk for him regarding the effect he had on women.
But this land, his once forgotten and forlorn home, would be his again.
With steadfast steps, he ventured in the enemy's territory, passing rooms and people that unavoidably watched him with brief curiosity.
But all those hubristic thoughts sapped away as soon as his eyes came in contact with the door.
A thrilled and anxious chill ran down his spine upon hearing the terse voice of his sworn foe, giving orders to someone in particular. Miguel's throat felt arid.
His heart thumped a miles per second, his breath paced into a more agitated pace and his eyes kept blinking, readying themselves to face his nemesis.
"Come in."
He obeyed and his nose flared, releasing a shaky exhale when seeing William. Same weather and cold face, the only difference was him looking a bit more rugged and his white hairs even more prominent.
It was as if time had barely passed over him.
It took every single cell and fibre of his body to control the urge to punch him in the face. But the satisfaction of having the reversed roles for a moment brought satisfaction like no other.
This time William had to crane up his head to see him, and a chill ran down his spine when meeting Miguel's red-ish brown eyes. Piercing and judging with all the intention of doing so, as if the very man before him knew his deepest secrets.
The door shut with a quiet click and Miguel stepped closer.
"Mr. O'Hara." William stood to meet him with a brief and firm handshake.
"Sir."
William nodded with a brief smile and gestured for him to sit before him.
"Must say what people say about you, do you justice."
"Good things I hope."
"Now. The property you'll be in charge is  in a bit of a mishap, I've barely had the time to fix it-"
"S'alright. It's part of the barn you said?"
"Indeed. Your functions are detailed in the contract, payment is every fortnight, unless you'd like to choose another type of payment time."
"Fortnight is alright."
William pushed the contract to Miguel, and this wasted no time in reading it and taking a picture of each page.
"Any doubts you, can call me and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."
Miguel signed and pushed the paper back to him. William put it on a folder and then put it on a file. He turned off his computer, and lead the way towards the stables.
"I've tried everything, and nothing works. People have told me to sacrifice the horse, but I can't do that."
Miguel wandered after William through the never ending halls of the estate, there was nothing left of his home. Not even the built in stone oven, where he'd watch Conchata prepare dinner and he'd help out with the tortillas.
Now full of modern equipment and full of people cooking different things he couldn't name.
Miguel had to admit that the stables were his favorite part from the whole dollhouse. William knew no concept of budget. But that was alright, cause every horse in it was worth every single penny and had turned it into a lovely stable aisle.
Each horse had its own fortified enclosure, well kept and clean. There were no bad odors, dirt, mud. None of that. Matter of fact, his eyes blinked when seeing some horses having a swim in a giant custom made pool.
Everything in Cherryville oozed with power and money.
Having revenge and interacting with horses he only dreamed of while getting paid, felt the ultimate fantasy came true.
The angry neigh of a horse snapped him out of his thoughts. The black Friesian stallion kicked and nipped another brown horse nearby. The caretakers immediately separated them both.
William sighed deeply and defeated. And Miguel approached to inspect the brown mustang horse.
"That's Joaquín. The black one is Agustín."
Miguel quirked his brow at the name choices but was glad to have something he was familiar with.
Miguel chuckled and nodded
"Do you know spanish, Mr. Anderton?"
"The amount enough to understand when my wife is angry."
"I see."
As much as he wanted to let out an array of insults here and there to test his words, he'd keep his sharp tongue for himself.
"You can start tomorrow, I'll let you get installed. The barn is in good conditions to suit your needs. If anything is missing, ask any of the helpers around."
With a final and firm handshake, William left.
Miguel gave himself a tour. He wanted to familiarize with the property as much as he could. He didn't like to rely on others for the simplest of task.
Even his way to the barn had been paved and well lighted. No longer being the muddy a d dark road he loved to splash his feet in, even if that meant to have his ear pulled by Conchata later.
The barn, like the rest, took his breath away. It looked like a house for himself.
He wasted no time into admiring the work, and effort put into it. The tack room was sure a thing, but his bedroom and office were even better conditioned. It was a place worth of his skills and knowledge.
Miguel begun unpacking and installing himself. From his window he could see yet another extension of property, Bodegas and the staff living quarters he supposed.
One thing he had forgotten about the place were the torrential rains that always seeped in. Sometimes the blackouts were so common he'd rather be candle lit.
And another entrance to the whole facility adjacent a couple of blocks from his barn.
---
He had finished his shower after spending his evening trying to get acquainted with Agustín and the rest of his crew. Overall and so far it seemed the perfect place to work, but also a challenge.
Thunders roared outside and rain kept flogging every surface it could, permeating to the core. He was ready to make his bed and call Gabriel when the lights were out.
A loud whir echoed through, before the lights returned, the generator wasted to time into working.
What alerted him was the main entrance opening and closing shut.
Had a worker slipped in?
Another blackout happened as he approached to the door only to find a soaked and gorgeous woman shivering on the entrance.
"Ma'am?"
----
Your friends had promised to be a casual party among the singletons in town, nothing more, nothing less. But time and drinks kept going, like the fun.
Until you had enough. As an Anderton you had a reputation to keep, but you were glad your friends made you feel a normal woman, free of keen and expecting eyes and societal etiquettes.
Free of the overbearing role model you had to be for being the Pastor's daughter.
But right now all you cared for was to get inside the barn to give your body a rest from the cold.
The once lovely dress you wore was now hugging you with a vice like grip, suffocating your curves like a second skin. The red and short cardigan around your shoulders did little to nothing to protect you from the unforgiving rain. Hair stuck to your shivering face, teeth clattered as you looked through the window. The rain had no intention to stop.
Your hands removed the cardigan, then tossed the clothing piece to the floor, as you rubbed some heat back.
"Ma'am?"
The rich and deep voice got you jumping in your spot.
"Oh, my god... I'm-" You swallowed when seeing the handsome man before you, dressed up in nothing but his grey sweatpants and some slippers. A towel hung loosely on one of his shoulders.
His brow quirked as his face remained serene.
"I-I'm sorry didn't know the barn was occupied."
You kept rubbing your arms, hoping for the rain to drop. A loud thunder made you recoil from the door, while the drip drops scurrying off your body rolled down to the floor, joining into a puddle beneath your red heeled sandals.
If it wasn't for your hair sticking on your cheeks, the man would definitely see the profuse blush emerging on them. Shirtless men weren't in your everyday occurrence, much less handsome and tall men with beautiful eyes that seized your soul.
A smirk came on Miguel's face, as he retrieved another towel from the bathroom and he approached.
"I got installed today, it's ok."
He gave you the towel, and you took with a grateful smile. Immediately pat drying your face, neck and arms.
He watched you with sharp eyes, following your hand's movement as he slicked back his hair.
You were gorgeous. And drenched to the bones. That little dress did little to keep his eyes wandering to your thighs, marveling at the soft and plumpness of them. He had to look away as soon as his eyes stopped on your chest. The outline of your nipples poking out the dress, gave him enough distraction for a moment.
You didn't look past twenties.
"Uhm..." Your sweet and stammering voice made him curious.
Such a polite girl.
"Yes?"
"Can I use the barn's phone, please?"
He shook his head softly and opened his office. Letting the door open for you to enter.
"Of course."
"Sorry for the floor."
Your arms crossed on your chest, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage. Then fetched the phone, the number however made him frown as it was William's personal contact number.
"Hello? Papa? Can you send someone to the barn with an umbrella, please?"
Papa
Miguel blinked as he stared your way from the door frame. This was even better than he anticipated.
He was so deep in his scheming that forgot William's family. So far he knew, the Anderton man had only one child. And he was now looking at said person.
He could see some bits of William in you, specially in your nose and cheekbones. The rest was your mother's doing.
And what a good job they've made.
"I know, I'm sorry. Got too caught up in the party."
Miguel luck couldn't truly get any better. He could even taste his revenge through his mouth. It was sweet as your perfume.
"Thanks. Love you!"
You hung up the call and smiled his way.
"Thank you. Mr...?"
"O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara."
You gave him your name with a sweet smile as he shook your hand amiably.
"Right. So you're the new trainer?"
His lax frame slanted against the doorframe, blocking your way from the entrance with his form. His eyes fixed you with an enigmatic smirk.
Your nervousness was making your mind a jumbled mess by simply being around him. Half-naked men and men were off the list. Mainly because your parents' strict beliefs. And the man that would get you, would be your future husband. Without discussion.
"I am. Yes. Quite impressive the settlement you've got."
"Ah, well. Dad takes seriously his businesses, and he needs all the help he can get. So thank you for coming."
"My pleasure to help, señorita."
His lip curled, almost imperceptible upon your flustered reaction. Your skin remained with goosebumps.
"Come. Let's get you warmed up."
You followed him to the fireplace and soon he got another towel since the one you had was soaked through.
You sat in front of the fireplace and he draped your shoulders with the dry and cozy towel to then sit across you.
"Thanks" You gulped and extended your hands towards the fire, gaining a much needed wave of heat.
He couldn't wait for you to leave and call Gabriel to tell him everything he had seen so far. Everything was beyond perfect, like if the universe itself had delivered his revenge on a silver platter.
A couple of minutes passed before a familiar voice to you echoed from outside the barn.
"Mi niña! Let's go!"
The ever familiar voice of your nana called, and you stood.
"Thanks for the help, Miguel."
"Anytime, señorita."
He nodded with a softened smile, that didn't reach his eyes and watched you leave.
"See you soon!" You waved and headed back to the main doors. Your heels clicking on the floor.
"Vicky!" you squeezed under the umbrella after your nana secured the towel.
You wanted to give Miguel a last thanking but the latter had already closed the door. You left to the manor.
Miguel rushed to fetch his phone and immediately called Gabriel. He picked up after the third ringing.
Miguel talked and rambled about everything he had seen, and Gabriel could only listen. Expectant.
"Lemme get some months in and then you can come. That way we gather more evidence."
"What about that woman? Anderton's daughter."
He sighed with a dreamy heave.
"She looks the type that's perfect for luring."
"Use her to your advantage. Hit em right where it hurts."
"I'll do it. Don't worry. She's too kind and sweet. Won't see it coming."
With this new piece of information, Miguel could do so many things. But his goal was clear.
He'd hit William right where he dared hit Conchata a long time ago.
He'd go after you. And if that meant to act like he adored you, then so be it.
His revenge was finally in motion.
----
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silvermoon-scrolls · 3 days
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So Dean knows about the @deanobingo event (kinda). And he did kind of challenge us to try to write about an as obscure character as possible, mentioning a Snacker bar commercial he did when he was 12.
So here you go. ~700 words inspired by combining ‘Snacker-bar-commecial kid’ with the bingo prompt ‘Bro code / Girl code’. Of course set in the late 80s/early 90s. ^^
--
The wind whips through Billy’s hair as his skateboard zigzags down the street. A good thing it’s downhill all the way to the arcade. A hella slog back home though. 
After taking a sharp turn he automatically sticks one hand in the front pocket of his hoodie to make sure he still has his Snacker bar. Wouldn’t wanna lose that.
As the arcade comes into view, he immediately recognizes Jessie standing outside waiting for him, but it takes him a moment longer to identify whom it is he’s talking to. Billy lets out a low whistle when he realizes that it's Amy – Jessie’s longtime crush.
But considering the way Amy keeps looking over her shoulder like she’s searching for an escape route, it doesn't look like it’s going too well. Time for a distraction.
Kicking up his speed, Billy sets his sight on the curb. At the last moment he pops the board off the ground, turns it, and slides along the curve. Jumping off right next to Jessie and flipping the board up into his hands. He can’t help himself from grinning wildly. “What’s up?”
“Wicked trick,” Amy says, inspecting Billy and his skateboard appreciatively.
Billy’s grin fades a little when he notices Jessie’s disappointment at having his crush once again forget him. Oops. Thinking on his feet, Billy smiles widely. “Yeah, Jessie taught me that one.” He slaps his friend on the back for good measure.
“Really? I didn’t know you were good with a board,” Amy says with an impressed smile, her attention back on Jessie.
A little caught off guard, Jessie still rolls with it fairly well. “Ehem, yeah. I don't like showing off, you know,” he explains only a little hesitantly, trying to wave it away.
“Too bad. I think it would be fun to watch.” The hint of a teasing smile she bestows on Jessie is apparently enough for him to drown in those big, brown eyes of hers because he’s just standing there smiling stupidly while she holsters her bag as if to go.
Billy elbows Jessie out of his stupor. “You wanna hang together at the arcade?” he finally blurts out. “We could talk more about skating?”
Amy shrugs. “I don’t really know much about skateboarding,” she says noncommittally. “Except the music is really rad.”
“Oh!” Jessie’s eyes light up – Billy recognizes his geek mode activating. “I just put together this new tape,” Jessie exclaims excitedly. He slings off his backpack and starts rummaging through it. “It’s got all these sick beats I caught on this new radio station I discovered.” He brings up his walkman. “Maybe-- maybe we could go to the park and listen to it?”
To Billy’s astonishment it looks like Amy really is considering it, though Jessie’s hopeful smile begins to fade a little when her answer drags a little too long. 
“I can’t,” she finally says. She actually looks genuinely sorry. “I have band practice later and I need to get home and grab something to eat.”
"Oh." Jessie lets out a disappointed sigh.
Bummer. So close. Billy chews the inside of his lip, but decides that Jessie is worth it. “No way!” he exclaims, pointing at something behind Amy. “Do you see that?”
The moment Amy turns around to look, Billy quickly fishes out the Snacker bar from his pocket, holding it up for Jessie to see, before dropping it into Jessie’s open backpack and gesturing with his eyes towards Amy.
“What? I don’t see anything,” Amy says, turning back.
“Oh, I thought I saw a cat with a top hat. My bad.” Billy gives her his most innocent smile, which only earns him a totally weirded out look in return.
Jessie hurriedly bends down to search his bag once more. “Uhm. What if we could eat at the park? I’ve got a Snacker we could share.” Jessie holds up his prize.
“Oh. Okay!” Amy says smiling, clearly won over by the promise of a delicious snack. 
Jessie is grinning from ear to ear. “You don’t mind, do you Billy?” he asks.
“‘Cause not,” Billy assures him. Mates looks after each other.
Besides, he’s got more bars at home.
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illiana-mystery · 2 years
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Meet Mr. Dragotti
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Some fantasy traveler inventory details (like what they would carry in their bags), based on two of the recent costumes I did.. love finding random little scraps and items and putting them together lol
#it's obvious who's is who's since they match their outfits HOWEVER.. consider if they were switched lol#evil villain looking man carrying around pressed flowers in a cutesy lacy pouch#fantasy costume#what's in my bag#actualyl that would have been funny to make a video. I should make a video#I'm sure someone else has already done this#but like.. lifestyle vlogger type content however I'm dressed in fully costume as some weird elf or something#pulling things out of my bag and showing them to the camera and talking about how they're useful for whatever#but it's all fantasy scenarios and talking like it's very common#'and of course. i know it's a bit cliche#EVERY traveler has one of these. but you know. theyre just useful! thats why everyone has one!' *pulls out a completely unrecognizable item#thats like some weird fantasy world prop and doesn't even explain it because In-world it's normal and wouldnt need to be talked about*#'room tour' video and it's just like 'yeah I sleep on this mat under a bunch of trees uh.. over here by these rocks. at least right now. I#kind of wander around a bit. so'#Like a clothing haul but it's a potions shop haul or something and they ramble about some obscure drama in the potions community and how the#y hard to barter and steal and entire flock of sheep or something just to get one of them. etc. etc.#I could do ones for different characters too like. multiple people from different walks of life showing what they carry around with them.#just like this but more interview sort of vlog format instead of photos#This is where not having much money and not having my own house with land becomes an issue though#I think it would take you out of the illusion if the background was always the same. I can make small sets because there's one blank wall in#a room that it's easy to move all the stuff away from in front of and clear a spot and like hang up fabrics or whatever but still.. hmms#So one of those 'fun idea but dubious about handling the execution' things. also One Of Those Things where without looking it up you're 100%#sure it's already been done and you don't want to look weird since it's vaguely niche. Like if 100 people have done something it's fine but#if only like 3 other people have then you look weird maybe ghhjbj.. or only one other person gods forbid. looks even weirder potentially#Or do people not care about ''copying'' anymore?? idk. I'm not updated with the internet's changing culture. I just have a fear of accidenta#lly doing something like that and then people getting mad even though it's really just that I competely had no idea it had been done because#again.. I live under a rock and am unaware of everything lol. ANYWAY. also would require my face being on video which I don't like. Though I#would be in costume so that helps. I think to be fully comfortable I'd need light modifications to make my face look different. which isn't#hard but is more effort when it has to be translatable in multiple angles. ANYWAY. ghjbhj... Now I think it would be funny actually. maybe#one day. I haven't made any videos (aside from on the gameplay/sims channel) in a long long time actually. hmm'st
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sneez · 1 year
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more of my oc tervis (any pronouns), the creepiest most miserable little weirdo in town. which is saying something [id under cut]
/ ID: four digital drawings.
The first image is a series of drawings of Tervis on a paper-textured background. A heading at the top reads 'Tervis (Humble)'. One is a coloured headshot of Tervis looking to the left; they have a gaunt face, short receding hair, a scar bisecting their lip and right eyebrow, greyish skin, and are wearing a red shawl around their neck. An arrow pointing at their right eye reads 'one blue eye (mostly blind)'; another arrow pointing at their left eye reads 'one brown eye'. They have a serious, hostile expression. The second drawing is an uncoloured full-body sketch of Tervis. Next to this is the same drawing but coloured and with more polished lineart. Tervis is a thin, hunched figure wearing a long, dark brown robe, a greyish bag on their back, and a red shawl around their head and neck. They are barefoot, and are leaning on a walking staff with both hands. An arrow pointing to the walking staff reads 'needed for walking, useful for hitting'. Tied to the belt around their waist are several long scrolls of paper with writing on them. An arrow pointing to the scrolls reads ''blessings' they paste on infected houses'. Tervis is looking warily out at the viewer from beneath their eyebrows. An arrow pointing to their head reads 'scar from getting hit in the face with a brick (also knocked out a tooth)'. Alongside these drawings are a series of bullet points giving information about Tervis. These read:
   indeterminate age, indeterminate gender
   religious fanatic (unclear which religion)
   lives alone somewhere in the steppe
   dislikes everyone but is nicer to children than anyone else
   has every disease
The second image is a fake screenshot from the video game Pathologic. Tervis is looking out at the viewer; the background shows scenery from the steppe. The text on screen reads:
CHANGELING: I still don’t see what you could have done that would make you personally responsible for this plague. TERVIS: Responsible… no, not merely responsible! This is my plague, cast upon my head alone. I am the originator; my sin is at the root of all. I have ventured into the town. I have seen the canker there. No matter how many houses I bless, my sickness sinks deeper. The rotted limb is the death of the body… Surely you understand me. You are a healer, are you not? CHANGELING: What is it that you are asking me to do? TERVIS: Let me be the lamb, worker of miracles! My blood shall wet the earth, and bright flowers shall grow… My putrefaction will provide the soil within which new life will burgeon, pure and free of sin and decay. Let it be done. I am ready. My failing flesh is but little sacrifice; in death my weakness will be my strength. Soon these torments will be at an end.
Below are two dialogue options:
You’re insane!
What makes you so sure your death would solve anything?
The third image is a fake screenshot from the video game Pathologic 2. Tervis is looking out at the viewer, and has been painted in semi-realistic style. The text on screen reads:
Tervis: Why do you force me to live? Damn you! Your cure is poison to me. Now I shall never be blessed. You should have left me to bleed.
Below are three dialogue options:
Don’t be absurd. I wasn’t going to watch you die.
What makes you think you deserve suffering?
I wish I had.
At the bottom of the image is a line of dialogue which Tervis has just spoken:
The air is foul. There is rot in this place. The stench of corruption shall be – what was it? What was it? The stench of corruption shall be… swept aside…
The fourth image is a coloured scene depicting Tervis and Clara. They are central in the composition; around them is the steppe, which has been rendered in a loose, painterly style. Tervis is kneeling, their walking staff cast aside, and are reaching out their hands to Clara in a desperate, pleading gesture. They are crying, their face contorted in an expression of agonised ecstasy. Clara stands beside them, one hand reaching out, the other held above Tervis’s head as though about to touch their brow. She has a solemn, pained expression. Behind her head, a break in the dark clouds gives the impression that she is haloed by sunlight; rays of the same light fall onto Tervis, illuminating their face and red robe. End ID. /
#artwork#pathologic#tervis!!!!!!!!!!!! :-D#sorry i know ive already posted that fake p2 screenshot i just wanted to keep all my tervis images in one place. please forgive me#i am having. So Much Fun. i would explode and die for tervis shes the worst i adore her#making fake screenshots is so enjoyable i love trying to match the fonts and copying all the little ui details it's so fun highly recommend#i have a lot of tervis lore which i am still developing but hopefully these drawings give you some idea of his character#hes just a mess really. hes got every imaginable problem#that last drawing is her getting sacrificed in the humble ending. she is SO happy about it#also if you didnt see my last post tervis was originally a warhammer 40k oc (which he still is ive just made a bonus pathologic tervis now)#but ive tried to keep a lot of 40k stuff in her design like the blessing scrolls and the uh. Posture#that's also my reasoning for why nobody knows what his religion is. the watsonian explanation is they are just spouting incomprehensible#disjointed passages from some obscure scripture which nobody can identify (and who would want to try really. tervis is not good company)#but the doylist explanation is that it's literally just the cult mechanicus. just ignore all the references to the weakness of the flesh and#the glory of the machine it will all be fine nothing weird here at all#anyway :-) i could talk about tervis forever but i will stop now#i hope you are all well my dear friends! i am on holiday now wahoo#i am also aware that i have several messages to answer which i will do very soon i am so sorry for being so slow as usual#i love you all i am giving you individual kisses on your individual heads. mwah
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avianreptiles · 7 days
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Teehee
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sisterdivinium · 11 months
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I always find it amusing how some people seem to be earnestly shocked by how not every viewer falls in love with Ava from the get go or how some don't really like her at all.
Disliking a main character is not a moral flaw, nor is it a novelty in the history of humans reacting to stories. There are no rules pertaining to how an audience must be fond of a protagonist. Different people like different things, as the saying goes, and, regardless of whether the title of the show is "goofy" or not (it was Forbes' Paul Tassi that deemed it so, if memory serves right), some of us were reeled in by it and expected what it says on the tin rather than following a reluctant hero for a handful of episodes while she avoids precisely that same narrative we might have initially signed up for.
It's both a matter of expectations and values; I've said somewhere before that JC's gang is unbearable to me also because I find no common ground with characters who embody a lifestyle I have seen up close and strongly rejected. They remind me of people I loathed and who certainly loathed me back. Subjective? Entirely, even though I also object to them as characters given how mind-numbingly dull and superficial they appear to me, as they are presented in the show (flat characters instead of round, if you want to E.M. Forster it, but so flat, so thin, that they might be ripped apart any moment). JC's speech on institutions is all pretty and commendable, but it sounds empty when the big middle finger he and his companions are giving to a higher social class is... The remarkable "cause" of crashing at their places so kids can get high on drugs in raves around Europe, apparently. His professed idealism doesn't really go beyond words -- and it's hard to sympathise with that.
Of course anyone could say the OCS also boasts of void discourses, ultimately meaningless words that deform reality, obscure it, manipulate it (the halo bearer, the gift, worth, God, grace, faith...) and they would be justified in their protestation seeing as the church's words are proven to be hollow as the story progresses. I won't argue with you there.
Yet this is thematically relevant considering the show's title. That is what I had hoped to see when I first hit play on the initial episode some time in 2021 (I'm neither of the "original" fans who watched WN as soon as it came out nor of the post-s2 crowd). So when Ava momentarily chooses that other lot, that other nucleus over this one, it almost led me to choose another show (and I have friends who did, despite my guarantees that it would pick up the pace quickly enough).
Now, none of this is meant to point fingers or judge people who loved Ava from the start or even those who might have a soft spot for JC's gang. The only thing this little text aims to accomplish is to explain how we all watch the same thing but wearing different pairs of lenses -- and that is a quality rather than a disadvantage. It means Warrior Nun can speak to all sorts of different people with different interests, values and sympathies, and it once more demonstrates how foolish Netflix's decision to cancel a show with so much potential reach was.
And, if you must know, I came round on Ava later on thanks to the powerhouse that is Alba Baptista's portrayal of her, allied with the clever writing I was treated to in season two.
If the power to change a viewer's opinion and feelings over a character she had disliked doesn't speak to the sheer talent of the people involved in a project, on and off-screen, I really do not know what else could serve as a higher compliment to everyone that brought it to life.
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cheezduoz · 10 months
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Happy latte day! 💚 here’s to our favorite soybean farmer—we love you so much 💕 ❤️ Cheering for you today, tomorrow, and always!
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magentagalaxies · 9 months
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thinking about how the 3 worst musicals i've ever been in were all during the course of like 6 months when i was fourteen. like jfc how did i manage that
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heloflor · 10 months
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Have a doc filled with Mario headcanons and wanted to share the sexualities part because fuck it, it’s still pride month.
Disclaimer since it’s relevant to this post : I headcanon that Peach, Daisy, Wario and Waluigi are all creatures from the world of the Mushroom Kingdom who look the way they do due to magic gems (those blue and green gems that Peach and Daisy have respectively). Peach is a Toad, Daisy is a Dino-Rhino (unless those flower people from Mario Bros acid trip Wonder are from her Kingdom, then again I like Daisy being a giant cool Dino, plus the trailer for Wonder showed several other big animals), not sure for Wario and Waluigi but they’re not humans. The Super Crown works the way it does because there’s one of those gems in it.
Also, since it’s briefly mentioned, what I call the “main” continent is made out of the Mushroom, Koopa, Bomb-omb, Thwomp, and Goomba kingdoms. Sarasaland (retconned into Flower Kingdom now ?) and other kingdoms are on other continents (yes I know in Superstar Saga the Beanbean kingdom is neighbors with the Mushroom. But since they never appear in other games, I’ve chosen to ignore that detail).
Anyways, onto the headcanons :
- Mario : Transmasc Aromantic Heterosexual ; he realized he’s aro after finding out Peach is a Toad and losing sexual interest in her (felt bad about it at first because he thought he fell out of love upon discovering Peach at her most vulnerable, Bowser made it worse for him by accusing him of liking her only due to her human form) ; him being transmasc is why he’s named Mario Mario (he thought it would be funny)
- Luigi : Cis Bisexual ; had a fling with Peasley + loves Daisy ; he’s gender non-conforming and sometimes shares clothes with Peach, he also trains his voice to be higher-pitched for the heck of it (+ it can help in case he has to take Peach’s place for a kidnapping)
- Peach : Demiromantic Pansexual ; is cis-passing in human form but is technically transfem due to being a Toad
- Bowser : Omnisexual ; Cis tho I like the idea of him being transmasc and birthing Junior’s egg
- Yoshi and Birdetta are T4T + poly (hence Birdetta flirting with others) ; Birdetta’s eggs aren’t actually eggs (insert joke about her “eggs” being white) ; not sure if “all Yoshis that lay eggs are female” but at least all those that lay eggs that can be fertilized are female (and on that note YOSHI MIGHT BE CANONICALLY TRANSMASC ???!!!) ; Yoshi is straight while Birdetta is plurisexual (bi/pan/omni etc)
- Daisy : Straight + intersex + transfem (imagine if Prince Haru from the 1986 movie was her appearance pre-transition, but remove the whole “Peach’s fiancé” part of the plot, or the plot as a whole since the events of this movie didn’t happen here, just keep Haru’s design as “Daisy before transitioning”)
- Big fan of the headcanon that Kamek is gay ; he doesn’t date because 1. He’s busy 2. He’s getting too old for this 3. He’s devoted to his son and grandchildren which takes all his free time
- Depending on which creature he is Wario would be cishet though I could also see him be plurisexual (bi/pan/omni/other label that has to do with dating more than one gender ; I like putting diversity in queer headcanons but I’m not the most knowledgeable on labels past the most common ones)
- Not sure for Rosalina, either aroace or she’s allo but just stays single due to her life situation ; probably non-binary (she/it, could also be a play on the fact that some see her as some kind of goddess)
- Pauline is Cis Lesbian and her and Mario parted on good terms after he came out as trans on top of other reasons (basically they still care a lot about each other but realized they were better off as friends, the whole “unknown aro + transmasc with lesbian” simply gave them an easier excuse to break up)
- Really not sure for Bowser's kids, the only ideas that are "set in stone" are that Ludwig is gay, Wendy is attracted to boys (doesn't meant she can't like girls), Lemmy is demi-boy (they/him) and Morton is attracted to girls (like Wendy it doesn't close the door for liking men).
Not sure for the rest, though I could see Iggy using he/neopronouns (likely xe/xem) and at least one of them being interesex. Btw the older kids say they don’t date because they’re busy with royal duties but the truth is they are just incredibly awkward + they can’t ask their dad for advice since he’s a romantic disaster
- I could see Toadsworth be aroace, since even in his younger years he cared more about raising his surrogate daughter than dating + he never pressures Peach into marrying ? In general he doesn’t seem to care about romance ? ; he’s also transmasc because Toad
- After seeing Bowser’s Inside Story and the beginning of Dream Team, Starlow is a lesbian crushing on Peach (is very buddy-buddy with Peach despite barely knowing her, makes a big deal out of Peach being kept safe, calls her “Peach” instead of “Princess” from the get go, at times seems to see Peach as the best person in the room)
- Toads and Goombas are naturally agender because mushrooms ; some choose to express a specific gender (ex Toadsworth, Toadette, Peach, the Toads and Goombas from the first two Paper Mario) ; some may use gendered pronouns even if their presentation doesn’t display any specific gender (ex Captain Toad using he/him despite looking like any other Toad) ; basically every Toad/Goomba that use gendered pronouns (or neopronouns) is technically trans and/or non-binary ; cisgender Toads/Goombas go by they/it ; the Super Crown gem gives the shape the Toad see themselves as but it doesn’t have to be cis-passing or even gender conforming, can be androgyne (Daisy took a while to figure herself out, hence her gem giving her Haru’s look at first ; she's not from an agender species but the way the gems work still applies to hers, hence mentioning how her being trans worked on that front)
- That previous point implies either all Toads have the same metabolism and thus all grow facial hair (Peach having to shave tho) or they have mushrooms that serves as HRT for those who want more “masculine” or “feminine” traits (hair/facial hair and tone of voice) ; the color of their hats has nothing to do with gender for Toads (ignore Nintendo’s weird obsession with making every female character in the Mario franchise pink)
- Sexual dimorphism in general is very rare/limited in this world (only the Beanbean kingdom has it ?), in “main” continent, Koopas are the ones where it’s the most present and even then it’s very minimal (genitals, who can lay eggs, possibly size but even then not really since Pom Pom is the only one smaller than her male counterpart, Wendy and other female Koopas aren’t particularly small)
- Toads (and other species) experimenting with gender could be due to seeing Koopas make the distinction between “male” and “female” and finding the idea of changing your appearance based on how you feel to be fun (even though you have the concept of male and female Koopas, there’s no transphobia in Bowser’s kingdom) ; by that point it’s common for Toads to change however they feel and go by any pronouns they want, just because they’re aware of the concepts of masculinity and femininity doesn’t mean they have to follow it to the letter with their pronouns unless they want to
- On that note, I could see Toadette as genderfluid, though she most often goes by she/her ; I could also see one or several of the other main Toads (Ala Gold, Bucken Berry, Captain Toad, "The" Red ToadTM) be bi-gender
- Not sure what’s going on with Waluigi but he’s definitely queer
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like literally she embodies the feeling, pushed to a cartoonish anime level by being a creepypasta killer
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valencians · 4 months
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dashboard simulator
mutual 1: i NEED hrt
mutual 2: here is 10 more paragraphs of rambling about the same character i have been talking about for the past 8 months
mutual 3:
😎 anonymous asked: hey i saw your 10k note post and i was wondering why you think it's ok to say that everyone who lives in a house should be killed and eaten?
💬 i did not fucking say that
blog i followed for a funny post a while back: this situation with my family just keeps getting worse i feel so hopeless all the time this really might be the end for me
mutual 4: why is no one talking about this obscure indie work last relevant 10+ years ago made by a lunatic that contains some of the worst writing of all time. it's a masterpiece
mutual 5: who all remember star war
blog i followed for politics: [10 consecutive reblogs of anime girls with giant tits]
blog i followed for yuri art: [10 consecutive reblogs of resource threads about marxist theory and history]
mutual 6: little doodle lol [most beautiful image ever drawn]
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spacebugarts · 9 months
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Why do I always hyperfixate on things that no one else is interested in sgxkzgsjsgzjsg
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muffin-selfships · 11 months
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M..Minx.. pr…pretty
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the request here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings:
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“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”
This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.
Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 
Something is bothering you.
The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.
It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.
“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 
The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 
Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 
It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 
“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  
Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.
You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 
“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 
There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.
You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”
Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”
You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 
His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”
Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”
You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.
“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”
It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 
“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”
“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 
Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”
Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.
“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”
His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   
“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”
Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.
“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.
Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”
More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 
“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.
He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”
Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.
The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 
You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.
Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 
You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 
He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.
It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”
Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 
“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”
More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”
His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 
Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.
“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 
Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 
There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.
You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.
Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 
“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.
Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 
He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.
“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 
You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”
Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.
“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  
His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.
“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”
The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 
His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 
“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”
Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.
“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 
Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.
Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.
It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 
“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”
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battlekidx2 · 3 months
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Alastor Episodes 7 and 8 Thoughts
These two episodes really gave us a lot in regards to Alastor and I cannot wait to see where they go with him in season 2. What I find most fascinating about what they established with him in these episodes is how I think this perfectly sets up Alastor to directly challenge the show’s main themes of redemption.
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Alastor is the only character in the main cast that I think could effectively challenge Charlie’s idea of redemption by making her face the question of “where the line for who can be redeemed and who is too far gone is?” 
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Even Vaggie and her past as an exorcist couldn’t challenge Charlie’s ideals in the same way because Vaggie so clearly wants to be better and is trying to be better. She could only challenge Charlie’s idea of who could be redeemed. She couldn’t truly challenge the line of when someone is too far gone unlike Alastor. 
And to explain this I'll just jump right in.
It’s clear these two episodes were meant to show a shift in Alastor and Charlie’s relationship in some capacity. It’s a bit more of a subtle shift than with the other characters, but I think it’s setting up this future conflict well for the limited time the show has. 
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At the start Charlie doesn’t think Alastor cares and calls him out on this. She directly states that she believes he enjoys the suffering. He refutes her idea of him by stating she doesn’t know what he feels. He purposefully hides his feelings behind a smile as a sign of control. (The first shift. It tells her there’s more beneath the surface)
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Then Alastor helps Charlie enlist cannibal town and says he wants to mentor her in the song. This is more than the initial indifference and humor he got out of Charlie at the beginning. There’s an interest in seeing Charlie grow and being a part of it that wasn't there before. And, with Alastor helping Charlie here, trust is being built (at least on Charlie's end).
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Then Alastor talks to Niffty (who he is clearly fond of) and admits he finds the group enjoyable to be around. He says he could grow accustomed to them after Niffty says she really likes them almost in agreement with her. He's very candid with Niffty and doesn't seem to feel the need to hide his emotions around her. They appear to be on the same wavelength.
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And finally, Charlie is upset when she thinks that Alastor died against Adam and hugs him happily when he returns. In Charlie’s eyes Alastor has been helpful and risked himself and his power to protect the hotel. This is a true shift in their relationship on Charlie's end.
This bond is necessary because if (at the very least) Charlie doesn't care about Alastor then he won't be able to truly challenge her idea of redemption and the show implies it doesn't just go one way. It's just obscured.
To explain what I mean I want to look at Alastor's role in the final battle and that moment when he is alone after he escapes.
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At the beginning of the battle he felt like the trump card he should have been. He makes the exorcists, before Adam destroys his shield, look like a joke. And he gives Adam a run for his money before he becomes overconfident and lets his guard down. He didn’t expect Adam to bounce back and have that much power left to show. He was caught completely off guard and paid the price. 
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And instead of staying to face the end with the rest of the people in the hotel Alastor opts to save himself. He places himself first. When he leaves he seems almost smug, spouting off a one liner and smiling as he sinks into the shadows. It seems calculated and calm, but alone is a completely different story. This moment shakes Alastor and that moment alone puts his fight against Adam and decision to flee in a different light.
In this moment when he's alone he starts to lose it, saying there has to be a way out. This isn’t where things end. He will come out on top. 
He can feel his control over the situation slipping. His power and notoriety has been challenged left and right this season. First Vox, then Lucifer, then the loan sharks, now Adam. It’s one right after the other. And Adam almost killed him.
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He’s struggling to grasp onto what little control he has left by forcing himself to keep on his smile and it calls back to the beginning of episode 7 when he says to Charlie that just because she sees a smile doesn't mean she knows how he really feels. His smile is a sign of control. And even in this moment you can see that last bit of control slipping. And it’s left him even more desperate for his freedom than before.
The Radio Demon was introduced almost as if he was an all powerful entity and now he is being brought back down to earth and he’s raging against it, barely keeping it just below the surface. 
But there’s even more to his breakdown than just his pride. The lines “Great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends. Sorry to disappoint that is not where this ends. I’m hungry for freedom like never before. The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor.” strongly imply that he really does care for the residents of the hotel more than he wants to admit even to himself.
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He is freaking out because he got too close to dying trying to protect and help people that he never thought he would care at all about and he’s doubling down on his plans from before. 
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His immediate desperation to be free implies he is at the hotel because he is forced to be there, but he’s desperate to get out of the contract because he doesn’t like how it’s changing him. Alastor has always put himself first and here he is almost dying trying to protect this hotel and it's rattled him even more deeply than the blow to his pride.
I feel like they know exactly what Alastor can mean thematically and they want you to know he’s a villain while seeding hints there could be change under the surface (ones that Alastor himself is afraid of and wants to double down against). There’s a balancing act going on with him and it seems they really do want to challenge the idea of redemption with him. Not just Charlie’s, but his own as well.
Alastor is still in my opinion the best written character in the series. There’s just so much to unravel with him and he’s the most fun to try and dissect to me. I can’t wait to see what they have planned for him in season 2.
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