#yes this is about oscar isaac characters

[soft-girl-musings]

I'm sorry but reader insert stories as a tall gal can be so funny

fic: (Character) towers over you, their eyes boring down into yours

me, 5'10", already having pictured myself looking down: huh

[whatthefishh]

body talk

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Part of the Oxford Comma series

Warnings: dirty talk, p in v, creampie, literally just smut really idk MDNI

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: @xbellaxcarolinax ty for being an absolute doll and reading this over for me bb, appreciate the hell out of you ❤️

It all started when you laughed at his compliment. 

Well, sort of.

—

It had been building for a couple of weeks, his lingering hands squeezing the soft parts of you longer and longer; his bottomless eyes watching you unabashedly. Your heart beat faster at the thought of it, but slowly you were getting used to it.

Then came his words.

“You look good like that,” he’d say while you were wiping your lip free from pasta sauce. 

“Eating… messily?” 

Then he’d laugh and call you adorable and change the subject. 

The next time Rydal left you feeling lost for words was when you started wearing the perfume he had gifted you. You weren’t surprised that he liked the way you smelt while wearing it, no, what surprised you was the way he’d immediately begin mouthing at your neck regardless of where you were. 

And when you told him to settle down and wait until you got back to his room?

“If you could see the way you’re looking at me, smelling like you do, you’d also want to fuck your brains out in the common room.” 

After that, he had taken to sprinkling kind words to you whenever he was near, words about how you looked that day, how your hair tied back drove him crazy, how the way you smiled at him made him lose his train of thought and miss the last ten minutes of the lecture, how you look too good in his clothes after he’d already fucked you senseless in his dorm, having picked up the closest sweatshirt from the floor. 

It was something you were trying to get used to, and some of it you were able to laugh off easily. He was supposed to say nice things, right? 

“Fuck, you look so beautiful right now,” Rydal said while sliding his hard cock along the outside of your wet folds, the tip of it grazing your clit teasingly. You could only whimper in response, insides melting at both his words and his actions.

How he could say these things to you while you were minutes away from crying and begging him to just stuff you full of him made no sense to you. Pupils blown wide and lips swollen and bruised, you were a downright mess.

So you ignored it.

“You don’t think so? Are you saying I have bad taste?” He began to push himself inside slowly, leaning forward to breathe in your personal space and press himself impossibly closer. “Huh?” 

Rydal was fully seated inside, nibbling at the dip in your shoulder. He rubbed his nose along your cheek, eyes not quite closed while watching your eyelids flutter at the intrusion. It might have been crude, but you could swear that he belonged inside you, tucked into the heat between your legs as close as he could get. 

This was your favourite place for him to be. 

“What, no, I-I can’t think—“

“You’re so cute when you’re cockdumb, c’mon tell me I’m right.” 

He didn’t wait for your response and pulled out only to swiftly thrust his hips again and again. Your eyes had shut and you were moaning lowly, desperate to focus on how he felt, not whatever argument he was trying to reference at the moment. 

“Not gonna tell me? You’re so fucking difficult,” he mumbled, picking up speed as he continued to pump his length into you, your hips pressed into the mattress.

The noises your bodies were making was obscene, sweet slick dripping out from your cunt while he didn’t let up, his pace never faltering. Rydal lifted one of your legs up higher to sit around his ass, hand wrapped around your thigh and pressing, opening you up wider. 

Your moans increased in volume, eyes still scrunched shut while he began thrusting into your pussy harder, the bed creaking with the force of his hips. Your walls were squeezing around him, desperate to keep him inside as he continued to fuck you open, mould you to his liking.

“You don’t agree?” He was huffing in your face. You shook your head so as to tell him to shut up, to drop it, this wasn’t the fucking time. “Why’s it always a fight when I’m trying to be nice to you?” 

The way you tried and failed to tell him to shut the fuck up and make you cum was embarrassingly obvious, your lips forming the first syllables before gasping on a particularly hard and well timed thrust. 

One hand crept up to tweak at your bare nipple, softly pinching the flesh until you cried out for him. Crying out on his cock while he bullied you seemed to be shaping up to be a pattern for the two of you. 

“Ry, please,” you gasped. It felt like he was in your goddamn lungs with the he was filling you up, pressing in and against you, stealing your very breath. 

Clutching his arms and digging your nails into his shoulder, you opened your eyes to plead with him. 

Your pussy fluttered when he laughed, a worry starting to build a furrow between your brows the same way the pleasure was rising in your belly. Was he going to continue this afterwards, too? Was this going to turn into something bigger or was he just, for lack of a better word, fucking with you? 

“I’m begging here, too, baby,” he said while lifting his body off your chest, rising to his knees to hit your cervix from a different angle. 

“I’m begging you to see yourself the way I do. Like right now, for example, so fuckin’ pretty. And when I do this?” He moved to press his palm into your hip, holding you down and resting his thumb on your clit. He didn’t touch it the way he knew you wanted him to, pulling a whine from the back of your throat. “Mmm, absolutely gorgeous.” 

“Shhhh—“

Was all you could manage until he leaned in swiftly and bit you above your breast, suckling the skin causing you to wail.

“Tsk, tsk, pretty girl. I’m not going to let you cum until you agree with me.” 

Lifting himself off you again, Rydal slowed his thrusts down to be able to drag his thick cock out with the sick intent of seeing you flinch before he slammed it back inside. You felt the pressure subsiding, almost slipping stealthily away and whined desperately at him. 

“Fuck! What do you want from me?!” You spit at him, fingers tense around his sheets.

“Say it, say you look the prettiest with my cock inside you,” he tried smiling but abruptly groaned when your walls clenched around him from his words. “F-fuck, honey, don’t do this just fucking say it—”

“Ahh, I-I look, ohh,” you moaned louder.

Rydal was thrusting the slightest bit faster, brows raised in a hopeful look and eyes trained on your face.

“Uh huh, I’ve got you, keep going,” he murmured. 

“I look p-prettiest with your co-ooock inside me,” you yelled, voice breaking on a moan. 

He groaned deeply, hips speeding up and snapping into yours. 

“Good, s-so good, fuck, all for me,” he planted his hands on the bed for momentum while he continued to plow your leaking pussy. “Gonna cum for me? Go on, cum for me like a good girl, did so good, baby.”

He wasn’t letting up and the rapid build up of his thrusts timed with his syrupy sweet voice and kind words catapulted you to the edge again quickly. Whining uncontrollably while he continued to talk you through it, you shouted into the room as you gushed around his thickness. 

Chest heaving over your fresh pleasure, the aftershocks were still coursing through your body meanwhile Rydal kept fucking you through it. His hair fell into his eyes as he stared at where you were joined, watching the white ring around his dick as it plunged into you before everything tightened. On his last thrust, he stilled as he shot his load inside you, groaning with his eyes closed. 

You scoffed watching him. He was utterly gorgeous. 

“Do you believe me now?” 

“You’re a dick, you know that?” 

[random-fandoms-stuff]

Okay i swear

This man Poe Dameron

Whenever I look at him i feel feelings

What feeling you may ask

Well not the usual feeling people feel for him

Sure yes i feel 🥰🥰🥰🥰 for him too but i swear look at him!!!

Those feeling fight with the feelings of i wanna be him.

I wanna look like him so bad.

I wanna be poe dameron cause i mean look at him its just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lol anyways

[judysxnd]

The lie detector interview

Okay so I made this a while ago (like everything I do it takes me months before publishing 🤭) . There is going to be a second part that I will post eventually, depends on how this one will do!

Y/n = your name

m/n = middle name

L/n = last name

Y/b/c = your birth city

————————————————————————

“Okay, the camera’s rolling” an off voice said to you as you were being attached to what felt like a thousand of wires.

Today you were doing a lie detector test for Vanity fair, with Pedro. Your new short movie just came out, and as you and Pedro were the main characters, you were on tour for many interviews for the past month. You were excited to do this one. You’ve seen many interviews with a lie detector and was curious about it. Not going to lie, you were also a little bit nervous about the question you would get. Thank god Pedro was with you.

“Okay so now that you are all set up, Pedro is going to ask you a few basic questions for like calibration and then you’ll get the real questions” a woman said off camera. You looked at Pedro, nervously smiling. He was reading the questions he had on his paper and couldn’t stop smiling.

“It’s making me so nervous” you admitted.

“Oh it’s going to fu-un” Pedro said as he read all the questions before staring at the camera laughing.

“Oh god. That’s it I’m legit scared” you said, looking at the camera than at the lady who was behind the detector.

“Okay, so basic questions first they said.” Pedro started. “Is y/n m/n l/n your real name?”

“Yes it is.” You said, looking at the lady. “I’m waiting for her reaction like I don’t know my name” you laughed. “Im already sweating”

“Don’t be so nervous” Pedro joked

“Wait until you’re in my seat mister” you both laughed.

“Were you born in y/b/c?”

“Almost wasn’t but yes it is true” you said looking at Pedro

“Now that one is good” Pedro suddenly said staring at the paper.

“Wait already? Oh my god I’m so not ready” you nervously said, moving your sweaty hands, looking at the camera.

“Is it true that you didn’t know who Oscar Isaac was before meeting him on set of Star Wars?” Pedro said with a big smile.

“What? No!” You immediately said. Pedro was laughing and looked at the lady.

“That’s a lie”

“Wait no, that’s not- well-” you tried to justify yourself

“Just tell the truth”

“I recognized the name but m- but yeah I actually didn’t know who he was” you admitted, looking down. “I’m sorry”

“We teased her a lot when we knew” Pedro said looking at the camera

“Yeah, by the way that’s not fair at all! I told you that as a secret and you told everyone!”

“It was only fair, you did reveal how we first met”

“It was accidental!”

“Moving on!” Pedro said trying to change the subject. You laughed. “Do you think I’m a better actor than Oscar?”

“Is it a real question?” You both laughed. “I’m going to get killed. Whatever the answer” Pedro nodded to the camera. “I’ve seen most of Pedro’s movies and he is- hm, but I also have seen Oscar acting real close and.. Oh god” you looked at the ceiling. “I’ll say you” you stared at each other for a few seconds, before Pedro turned his head towards the lady.

“It’s true” she said looking at him

“Nice one” Pedro said. You mouthed a “thank god”, nervously looking at the camera

“Is it true that you met Hayden Christensen?”

“Oh yes! I fangirled way too much, it was so embarrassing. It was so long ago, I think if I remember correctly that it was when he was filming Jumper, I simply bumped into him not far from his set” you said, facing the lady to have confirmation

“That is true”

“Yeah okay” you smiled, proudly.

“Are you single?” Pedro asked, staring into your eyes, knowing the answer. No one knew, but you’ve been dating for a few months. You’ve known each other for a few years, since you met Oscar on set actually, but filming this movie together brought you very close, creating an undeniable chemistry. So it was understandable when Pedro saw you blush, a lot.

“No” you simply admitted. He was surprised by the answer. He’d expect a lie. Neither of you looked at the lady for confirmation. You just looked at each other, smiling.

“Have you ever lied about yourself to get a role?” You laughed

“I may have exaggerated some skills but no, I never lied” you said. You both turned simultaneously towards the lady.

“True”

“Why do you seem surprised about that one?” You said laughing at Pedro’s expression. He couldn’t stop laughing.

“I am not surprised, but I also never saw you ice skating”

“I-” you thought for a second. “Oh yeah I did say that when I auditioned for- oh wait I can’t say” you shamefully said to the camera. “But I do know how to ice skate”

“Sure sure”

“Is it true that you had your first kiss on screen when you were 23?”

“Oh my god” you said looking down. “How did you guys had this information?” You said looking around. You were red like a tomato. “Yes” you said avoid eye contact

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of”

“Yeah sure like it’s not embarrassing that I was 23?”

“No” you rolled your eyes

“Okay last question”

“Thank god” you had your hands on the table.

“Did you lie during the interview but we didn’t get you?” You both playfully looked at each other.

“No” you looked at the lady.

“And that’s true”

“Finally! Get me out of this!” You started to move your arms, getting impatient. Pedro was laughing. “Yeah, keep laughing, you’re next”

“I have nothing to hide” he said standing up.

“We’ll see about that” Pedro stared at the camera, scared.

[controld3vil]

chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to rebecca ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

How do you think OI characters would react if their fem partner proposed first??

Ahhh, ADORABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Multiple Oscar Isaac Characters x gn!Reader • Rating: 18 + pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Warnings: Fluff, mention of sexy times, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 385

---------------------------------------

Steven: So surprised and giddy, please propose to this man. 

Marc: Is so shocked he actually blurts out, “are you sure?” 

Jake: Says yes without a second thought, he is so excited. Will try to cover how emotion he’s feeling by making a joke (“You better have got me a ring that costs 7 figures, I expect no less.” When you show him you actually have got him a ring, he gets even more emotional. You will not be able to escape from the cuddles for several hours.)

Nathan: “Why do you want to get married?” He will say this no matter your relationship and if you’ve talked about getting married before. Because he’s a little shit and wants attention. 

Anselm: Asks if you’re getting on your knees to suck his dick, makes a joke that the ring you have is too small to go on his cock. Is very emotional about it. Also takes you out so he can buy a matching cockring to go with the ring you bought for him.

Cecil: “Really?” Literally shocked, has a little cry, says yes, then tells you maybe it’s not a good idea because he has some debt and doesn’t want to burden you with that. 

Club!Blue: He’s saying no. I’m sorry. 

BUT HE IS JOKING. OF COURSE THIS DRAMA KING IS LIKE, “THEY PROPOSED TO ME. MEEEEE.” He’s faulting it to everyone. 

Santiago: Doesn’t actually say yes straight away, because he jumps your bones the second to ask the question.

Laurent: Will say yes, will also ask if you want him to murder anybody first… hmm…

Poe: Literally tearing off his necklace right this second so he can also give you a ring.William: You open the ring box to propose, the ring is gone. He gets down on his own knee and holds out the ring you chose for him, smiling like a little shit. You both say yes.

Richard: You propose by tying the ring box and question to his dog’s collar. He’s an absolute mess (positive) both you and his dog are getting massive cuddles.

Robbie: Sweetheart is having a little cry. He’s so happy.

Jonathan: This guy’s addicted to getting married. I think he has a kink.

---------------------------------------

Thank you for reading!

[marleyybluu]

Truth or Drink

Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

WC: 1k

A lil quick one

Warnings: alcohol (drink responsibly), age gap (reader is like 30 we’ll say), fluff and flirting.

Look at this cutie

You sat across from him, nothing but smiles on both faces as you stared into each other's souls intensely. His sweet brown eyes wandered your face, fresh out of the makeup chair and looking stunning as always. You let out a small giggle, you looked down to shuffle your cards of questions. Today was going to be interesting.

The two of you had starred in a romantic comedy that had come out last week and the reviews it was getting had been great so far. The real buzz was the chemistry you two had, tabloids often twisting your innocent hangouts as something more. Pedro wasn't a difficult person to get along with, the vibes had been there since day one. You two clicked almost instantly, it was almost impossible to shoot one scene without one of you breaking character.

You had to admit though, the feelings you had were no longer just platonic. The movie felt all too real and whenever the director yelled cut you were sucked back into reality. Oh, that man could kiss. Lips soft and sweet, gentle and careful with yours as if he was scared to hurt you. There'd been a few times it felt a bit too real, but you didn't mind.

He made your heart race, even now, as he watched you across the table.

Today was another promo video for your movie. You two were doing Truth or Drink for Cut's YouTube channel. They wouldn't normally have well-known actors on their channel but they loved how you two interacted and insisted on a piece of the action. You had seen many of these videos and a lot of them were enjoyable so you were excited to do this, and also happy to get a few shots in. Though you two had some shots the night before.

"Alright, you guys ready?"

The both of you nodded and looked back at each other. The cameraman gave you two the thumbs up, and it didn't take long for you to let out a nervous giggle and quickly apologize for it. Pedro shook his head. "Hi, I'm Pedro Pascal, and this is my unprofessional co-star YN YLN." You sucked your teeth reaching over the small table to hit him in the arm with your cards.

"You can actually start with a shot if you guys would like." One of the producers informed. "Oh really?" Pedro asked, he looked back at you to see that you had already popped the top off of the bottle with tequila and poured it into his shot glass before pouring it into your own. There was juice in a slightly bigger glass as a chaser but you often didn't need it. "Salud." He winked. "Salud." You smiled before clinking and drinking. You sucked in your cheeks and squeezed your eyes as the drink burned your esophagus.

Pedro tapped his cards against the table catching your attention. "You want to go first?"

"Nah, you go." You leaned back in your chair interested to hear what he had written down. He looked down at his cards, a bit nervous about how this was going to go, he would try not to take too many shots for fear he might confess his true feelings on camera. "When they told you would be working with me, were you excited?"

You playfully rolled your eyes, a simple question but that shit-eating grin he had on his face meant it was a cocky question. "I already told you how I felt."

"Yeah but now you have to tell them."

"Yes, Pedro I was excited when they told me that I'd be working with you." You admitted on camera begrudgingly. Pedro's eyes disappeared as he smiled at the camera, your heart fluttered as his contagious emotion spread over to you. You quickly looked down at your cards. "Hm, who's a better acting partner? Me or Oscar Isaac?"

He shook his head repeating the word 'nope.' He was not about to get in trouble with his two friends, he reached over for the bottle and took a shot while you sat there dumbfounded with your mouth agape in amusement and utter shock. "You know what," You looked into the lens. "He only took that shot because he didn't want to hurt your feelings, Oscar."

Pedro snorted before throwing his head back, he quietly hissed as the alcohol burned his throat. You bounced your leg up and down as your eyes focused on the slender of his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. You groaned internally. "Alright," He started. "Do we have to do boring questions?"

"You can ask anything you want." They reassured. He slowly nodded.

The back and forth continued, and a few more rounds of liquor entered both your systems— the both of you giggly and probably annoying the rest of the crew but you no longer cared. "Do you watch the TikTok edits that people make about you? And does it boost your ego?"

He closed his eyes in defeat. "Yes, I do watch them." He cringed. "Some of them are a little... you know..." Pedro wiggled his brows alluding to the fact that some videos were a little too thirsty. "But I love them all anyway. So thanks, guys."

It was his turn to ask, he cleared his throat and shuffled in his seat. You knew him like the back of your hand, he was nervous but what could he be nervous about? You were just asking each other goofy questions, nothing too weird. Right?

"Okay, am I the best kisser out of all your co-stars?" He asked. You tilted your head, eyes passing between him and the shot glass, wondering if you should say the truth or leave it to the imagination. You nodded your head keeping your lips sealed. "Am I really?"

He sounded almost shocked.

"Yeah, you are."

"No bullshit?"

"No bullshit Pascal."

He made a proud face. "How about out of all your little boyfriends?" Your eyes popped out of your head, he was getting a little too hasty. He watched as you slowly reached over to the bottles, it was quiet as you poured your drink of choice. You looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Yes." You still took your shot pursing your lips and shaking your head as it went down.

He was taken aback, sure he asked the question but he expected you to take a shot instead of actually answering it. You shrugged putting your cards flat on the table. "Same question for you."

At this point the crew let them do what they want, the more natural it looked the better. Pedro shrugged. "Yeah, I'd say you're at the top of the list."

"Oooh, there's a list."

"Of course." He smugged. He tugged on his bottom lip, eyes scanning the entirety of your face. "Have you ever had a crush on a co-star?"

You covered your face, you were really laying everything on the table, in front of these strangers and soon for hundreds of thousands of people to see. "What are you getting at Pascal?"

"I'm just playing the game." He said with that not-so-innocent face. "Yes, I have a crush on a co-star?"

"I said had."

You smirked. "I know."

Now it was his turn to blush, he giggled nervously. "I have a crush on one of my co-stars too."

You turned your head away, you were nothing but a bundle of nerves. Pedro gently kicked you under the table and you returned the favour. Neither of you had any more questions... that could be asked on camera at least. "Well if you'll excuse us..." Pedro proceeded to stand up, he hooked his arm inviting you to wrap yours around it and you did not hesitate.

"We have some things to discuss. Make sure you guys check out our new movie. Byeeeee."

The producers stood there stunned at what just happened while you two skipped off. You could only imagine the response and chaos that this would cause.

I have to get these Pedro fics out of my system yall. I'm off tomorrow so hopefully ill post another one and then after that I'll update based on the poll (go vote if you'd like) if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. Peace and love

[ivystoryweaver]

@lunar-ghoulie4art @lunar-ghoulie his HANSOME SMUG FACE

his hands and that signature hairrrrr i want to gobble him

This lil story is so clever, i love it!

hey @reallyrallyauthor, he is reading the serial killer novel from your story Murder Story and ask, @angel-of-the-moons

Recent Drabble #1, enabled encouraged by @lunar-ghoulie and her incredible artwork

She’s been sent on a mission for Outcome-3, and her plan just isn’t working.

A.N: Ovulation is a crazy thing ain’t it 🤪

Themes: attempted seduction, momentary flashing

She picked her way carefully through the snow laden woods and whipping wind. Her ears strained for any noises besides the howling through the trees that’d indicate she wasn’t alone but to no avail. Eventually she finally found her target, a singular dark cabin, with a light smoke emanating from its chimney. He’s already here…

Her mission was simple, Outcome-3 had disobeyed orders and needed to be debriefed and eliminated. She didn’t ask the reason, truly it didn’t matter and she wouldn’t have been given one any way. She was given his weakness though, sex.

Her target had been known for sleeping with assets unnecessarily and being easily distracted with women, despite their training. Honestly she didn’t know how he hadn’t been weeded out of the program to begin with if he had a propensity for distraction. With the Intel that he’s been alone on this mountain for weeks, should be easy enough.

She cursed to herself silently as she approached. She had to adjust her strategy with him already here. He’d never be dumb enough to believe the old “civilian damsel in distress because she wandered too far in the woods” routine… but maybe, a sprinkle of honesty may do her mission good.

She took a deep breath as she reached the wooded edge and pulled out her knife. She muttered a silent prayer, pulled up the hem of her cotton underwear and cut each side, wiggling out of them while keeping her other layers on, step one done. She burried the scrap of fabric in the snow. Step two would not be as easy. She took a deep breath, relaxed herself, and cut swiftly into her thigh.

Careful to angle the blade to miss any major arteries but enough that she’d need stitching up.

“Please.” She huffed “I - I need -“ her knees buckled. His hand was lighting fast as he grabbed her arm, gun still steady on her in the other. “- help.” She controlled her breathing to come out more as a sigh.

“Get in.” He pulled her in, shoving her on the ragged couch next to the door and slamming it shut. “Who sent you.” He clipped as he bolted the door shut.

“Same as you - my mission -“ she lulled her head back a moment “another agent tried to -“ she slumped further feigning that her consciousness was slipping.

“None of that, wake up.” He tucked his gun into his waistband and patted the side of her face. She kept her gaze heavy and even crossed her eyes a bit before going completely limp. “Fuck.”

He acted quickly, attempting to assess the wound but the multiple layers of her pants and longjohns made it difficult “fuck it,” he grumbled, quickly undoing her pants and yanking them down. “Shit.”

It took everything in her not to smirk, take a good look.

Barely a second passed from his words before he pressed a blanket onto the wound to stop the bleeding. The sudden shock of pain caught her off guard and she jolted up with a groan.

“Goddamnit.” She ground out before flopping back onto the couch.

“Sit still.” He snapped.

She lay there, trying to look unfocused while she assessed his posture, body language, even where he was looking. Everything showing he was focused on the task at hand. Damn…

She groaned in exaggerated pain and spread a little wider. Just a glimmer of distraction, c’mon.

But despite her attempts, he remained focused, packed and bandaged the wound, and by the end of it had pulled her pants back up and peppered her with questions.

She recited her carefully prepared script, adding some stammering and pauses along the way. And by the end of it all it was the wee hours of the morning and he’d relaxed a bit.

“Satisfied enough for sleep?” She feigned weakly. “It’s freezing - and there’s only one bed.” She glanced over at the low fire. “We could… share warmth?”

His gaze flickered over her as he stood. He looked over to the bed, then back to her. Getting up stiffly and adjusting the sheet. “Fine.” He huffed.

She stood, pushing down the inner triumph she felt before he tossed a blanket and pillow in her direction. “You take the blanket and couch. G’night.” He laid across the bare fitted sheet and closed his eyes.

What the- okay well, HQ was wrong about how easy this should be… it’d take more than flashing him and playing weak to get his attention. And the blizzard showed no signs of letting up…

[moonpascaltoo]

nathan bateman

MASTERLIST • OSCAR ISAAC CHARACTERS • 06/24/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 the beauty of imperfection I @missdictatorme

Nathan figured having a personal assistant wouldn't hurt. He was wrong. She was a pain in the ass. Also she was so different from his robots (he no longer have because one tried to kill him). But she was also... fascinating

𑣲 influencer!reader I @/missdictatorme

𑣲 mama bear I @/missdictatorme

You have only one rule, that none of Nathan’s AI androids can interact with your newborn daughter. Nathan thinks you are too suspicious and overreacting. But what happens when one of his creations doesn't obey?

𑣲 in plain sight I @spacecowboyhotch

for someone who’s all about AI, blanks stares and obedient droids, your likeness to them is driving him crazy. 

𑣲 shut up, kid I @hoedamn-eron

You awake to your first Mother’s Day with baby Bateman.

𑣲 bluey I @/hoedamn-eron

Nathan discovers your son’s favourite show.

𑣲 ebo I @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

𑣲 piano s/o I @/my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

𑣲 assembly required I @reallyrallyauthor

Nathan Bateman is maybe the smartest man in the world. But that doesn’t mean he has the common sense that god gave a can of green beans.

𑣲 accidental kiss I @youvebeenlivingfictional

𑣲 fake dating I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

𑣲 by definition I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

“To what extent are we culpable? If there is forethought, is it traceable  through code? At what point are humans no longer responsible for their  creations?”

𑣲 magnetic I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

Now that you’ve met him in person, Nathan Bateman is everything and nothing like you’ve expected.

𑣲 rubber ducky, you're the one I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

The last time he got roped into one of these celebrity auctions, Nathan wound up spending six stupefying hours with a Kardashian, trying to explain why they couldn’t launch their own crypto, ‘K-Coin’, without plans for a public exchange. This? This is way more interesting, but just as mystifying.

𑣲 that algo is fucking scuffed part 2 I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

It’s Nathan Bateman’s business card, with all of his contact information on it. But there’s a small hand-drawn → on the bottom. You flip it over and read: Thanks for the fix. Your rate seems reasonable. Looking for a job? -NB

𑣲 the logical progression part 2 I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

Maybe it was better that you didn’t meet Bateman until you were further along in your time at Blue Book. By the time you did, you were much more self-assured, knowledgeable, and far less afraid to challenge authority. You hadn’t gotten to where you were by being a shrinking violet.

𑣲 this didn't happen I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

Had you gone to the conference planning to sleep with Nathan Bateman? No. Had you? Yes. Were you regretting it? Absolutely. 

𑣲 chase and pull I @leoluved

nathan likes when you get jealous, but he gets upset when he gets a taste of his own medicine. 

𑣲 dear diary, i met an asshole I @writefightandflightclub

𑣲 uninvited I @/writefightandflightclub

Nathan attends the Met Gala, but there’s something missing. That’s you.

𑣲 post script I @leiakenobi

It took nearly a month after the company funeral for a pair of suits to show up at your door and say, “We’re here to discuss the Bateman estate.”

𑣲 almost lost you I @softboywriting

It takes Nathan nearly dying to realize he loves you, but he needs to know you feel the same and will take some unnecessary steps to find out instead of just asking you.

𑣲 an ordinary business proposal I @freelancearsonist

𑣲 pink interference I @milkypompon

Nathan made you a period tracker... but it's nothing you'll find on the public market.

𑣲 doppelgänger I @brandyllyn

You’re invited to Nathan’s house after ‘the incident’ to test his new AI. A masc one this time. Of course Nathan made it in the form of the most perfect man he knows, himself.

[greensagephase]

Just realized how much I love the way you write your Miguel. Like instead of oversexualizing, making him animalistic or just straight up a dick (even tho he kindof is sometimes, let's be honest-)

I just love how you dive in his current trauma (not too long ago his mom got zombified like marvel give bro a break plz), include trust issues and his mental problems, while not breaking his character. You made him stubborn, a little proud, but still show slight vulnerability, and so many unsaid words. Hell, you might be one of the best Miguel writers I've ever seen on here!

I love the slow burn in NC, it makes Miguel seem more like a real person, with unbearable trauma and trust issues, who's main way to 'cope' is "by leading a society of Peter Parkers who can't pay their rent on time" (from the ATSV artbook), and as someone with a mental health too similar to Miguel's I can see myself in him (THAT'S A COMPLIMENT) with a slow build of trust

While I sometimes do enjoy a bit of smut, most of the time, it's too fast. Too quick, like- CALM DOWN LADIES (and gents), I DON'T THINK MIGUEL'S GONNA EAT YOU OUT ON THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN LIKE EMPANADAS

ALSO DID U KNO HE'S BI???

Hiii, Dino!!! Thank you for the ask, pookie!! 🥰 Also, I'm sorry for taking a few days to answer your ask. I took a few days off tumblr due to life :))

But omg, thank you!! I appreciate the kind words so much, and I’m happy that you love NC!Miguel and the slow burn! 🥹 Also, I’m glad you appreciate the acknowledgement of Miguel’s issues, traumas, and mental state within the fic. I’m no expert; no psychologist nor professional writer, but as the story expanded, I decided that I’d like to dive into Miguel’s story a little more, this being a Spider-Man Miguel fic after all, and one that’s attempting to portray Miguel as realistic as possible (or at least the way I see him and think he’d be like), so that entails including his issues, traumas, and mental state, too.

I know this has led to some chapters being a little delicate, overwhelming, and/or sad (and I’m sorry to anyone who has ever felt down or cried reading NC because they resonated with this content, or the emotions got a little too much. This has never been my intention ):), but I believe it’s important to address, especially because his issues, traumas, and mental state overall are big contributors to his behaviour and mindset in ATSV. As I said, I’m no expert, but just from what I learned in college and have learned throughout the years with personal experiences (seen close people dealing with similar issues like those Miguel has faced and is facing), I know healing from such traumas is important to move forward with life. I also know it takes time, which is a big reason why this fic is a slow burn.

I want Miguel to find himself in a healthy and positive mindset, learn to trust others, and know that he is worthy of love and friendships before he finds himself in a romantic relationship. I’ve yapped too much, but I’m glad that you appreciate that, even though these can be sensitive themes/discussions. Thank you! Also, I’m touched that you can see yourself in NC!Miguel and how he slowly begins to allow himself to trust someone. I hope that as the story progresses, you can continue to see yourself in him in a non-harmful way (I never wish to portray mental health negatively nor disrespect/offend someone)! 💖

And hehehe, your comment about the smut and empanadas has me laughing! 🤣 But I hope you can find more fics with a slower pace regarding that aspect though! I know there’s awesome and talented writers who continue to write for Miguel on here that feed my delusions about this man and post very regularly (thank you Miguel writers - ily 🥰), so keep your eyes open and support what you enjoy reading!!

ALSO, yes, but also no?? I saw a tweet a very long time ago of Oscar Isaac apparently saying Miguel was bi, but idk if it’s canon because I haven’t read any of the comics 😞 (all the plot lines within NC that align with the comics have been researched from other sources). Is it confirmed in the comics? :))

Thank you so much for the ask!! I hope you’re having a great day/night, Dino!! Pls take care!! 🫶🏼💖

Alondra❤️

[whatthefishh]

until we bleed

Rydal Keener x F!Reader ; part of the Oxford Comma series

Words: 6.4k

Warnings: swearing, an unnecessary amount of big words being used, smut, pinv, um... slight dub con... drama...

Beta read by the lovely @xbellaxcarolinax who basically jumped on the doc every time I helplessly texted her to ask if I was being stupid, and special s/o to @melodygatesauthor for helping me talk out the smut hehe

The charity gala was a front for the girls to get dressed up and the men to boast about their new business ventures. The charity mentioned in the invitation was picked out by the dean’s wife, a hedge fund manager – a most noble career – and she had already swindled enough out of the guests for the entrance fee before the scheduled auction later that evening. 

You didn’t want to go but you couldn’t really tell Rydal that, especially after the whole thing with Chester just last week. He had been a little down since then, his skin halfway healed from where the skin had broken. You couldn’t help but feel a current of electricity pass through you straight to your core whenever you looked at the slightly swollen pout he was sporting because of it. And the bastard knew it, too. He had been using the pout, with the added weight of his baby cow eyes, to get his way for the past few days, easily swaying you into submission for the littlest things. 

Which is how you ended up at the pretentious gathering being thrown in some philanthropic attempt to absolve the attendees of their greed. The dress you got for this event specifically was more expensive than any you’d ever worn before, the black satin silk of it tickling your calves where it hit. Your heels were new and not broken in, the thin straps sitting across your fresh pedicure — also something he insisted on paying for, picking out your nail colour for you. A glossy soft pink, a shade that reminded you of the Chanel perfume he had gifted you with. 

Rydal had taken you out to buy an outfit when you tried to tell him you couldn’t go with him to the gala because you had nothing to wear, rolling his eyes at what he knew was you trying to weasel your way out of it. You felt bad, making him wait while you tried on every dress the saleslady threw at you. He kept telling you it was fine, eventually threatening to come in there and dress you himself if you didn’t cut it out and that he was comfortable lounging on the sofas outside the fitting rooms. 

Slipping on the next dress from the large selection you had gathered in your fitting room, you checked yourself out in the mirror. Flatting the skirt with your palms, you tried to imagine yourself at the party, your arm looped around Rydal’s elbow and everyone’s eyes on you. Would this help you blend in? Was this the golden ticket you needed to finally gain acceptance? You’re starting to feel like it didn’t matter what you wore, they’d be able to sniff you out regardless, the vultures with their sharp manicures and syringe sculpted faces. 

When you finally stepped out in the simple but flattering black dress, Rydal’s eyes flashed as you turned this way and that in the mirror, trying to see it from all angles. This could work, it was simple enough that you didn’t feel entirely unlike yourself but it was still a lot more extravagant than anything you owned.  

You didn’t notice him slowly getting up like a predator stalking its prey, too focused on whether you liked the garment or not until his hands came to rest on your hips and his nose pressed itself against your neck. Only then did you take note of his half hard bulge pressing into your bum, your body temperature jumping at how quickly he was reacting to you all dressed up for him. You weren’t a lingerie girl, never had to be in your experiences but the way he was growing more and more feral by the second had you itching to buy the most delicate, laciest sets just to pull this behaviour from him on demand. 

“D-Do you like it?” you hated the way your voice wavered when you spoke, the slight increase in pressure from his hot hands causing you to blush heavily. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Go take it off before I do it for you–”

“Yeah, on it,” you pushed his hands away, bolting towards the fitting room before he got any ideas and shaking your head at him. 

He purchased the dress while you were changing back into your regular clothes, coming out to the sight of him holding the garment bag over his arm while dumbly ignoring the stares of the other girls in the store. 

You weren’t used to feeling so aggressively desired so publicly but Rydal never made you feel like he wanted to hide how he felt about you. He would compliment you in front of his friends, in front of strangers, he would speak highly of you despite having told you something that would send your blood boiling seconds prior. It was reassuring, especially since you weren’t blind to the way girls would look at him, especially the ones in his social circles. 

The dress would help you fit into the crowd a little better, the shoes only slightly uncomfortable so far but that wasn’t the part that bothered you. Before leaving for the night, you made sure to try your best with your hair and makeup to look effortless with the help of your roommate, Eleanor, who told you that Rydal was going to go crazy over your look. That didn’t make you feel any more comfortable, however, wearing clothes much too expensive, you began to wonder if he liked you better like this, if he wanted you to be more like them. 

His reaction upon seeing you made your stomach swoop, the reverence in his eyes making you shyer than you’ve felt in a long time. You think maybe you should dress up like this more often, maybe he’d prefer you like this. Trying to shake those thoughts out of your head, the two of you make your way to the party being held on campus, looping your arm through his. Rydal was wearing a beige linen suit himself, the white dress shirt underneath had the first couple buttons open for a more relaxed look that you knew he only did to stick it to his dad.

You don’t know if you would have preferred to be invisible rather than be gawked at by the guests, but either way you were extremely uncomfortable and trying your best to mask it for the sake of your boyfriend. The party itself was unlike any other you’d attended, and why would you have? It wasn’t something you’d normally be invited to, especially with your financial struggles. It was kind of ironic, you being here now. At least you were dressed for the part.

Most of the guests were in casually lavish clothing themselves, almost everyone in the room exuded an air of superiority and arrogance you didn’t know how to handle. Walking by a group of older men dressed in various shades of browns and beiges, you overheard their heated discussion regarding the new instalment of fine art in the library’s entryway. There was a table full of what looked like raffle prizes to be won, along with a small brass raffle drum at the end. Near the end of the room stood a podium next to a sign with the charity of the night outlined in large, black lettering. For the good press, for the photos, you bitterly think. There was even a small group of classical instrument musicians playing classical renditions of modern day music. 

In every cluster of guests, there was an undeniable condescending overtone, the haughtiness oozing from every direction and you didn’t know where a safe space was for your eyes to land so as not to be assaulted by a judgemental gaze. Rydal was walking with ease, his hand at the small of your back, the warmth from it burning your skin due to the backless nature of the dress but you were thankful for the touch as it kept you somewhat grounded, helping you not trip over your heels. 

He walked you through the psychological battleground, gliding through the people who were most definitely whispering about his date for the evening, leading you to the food and drinks table. Exotic delicacies littered the banquet table, carefully prepared for consumption and small enough to grab several handfuls before feeling any sense of satiation. The rich were an interesting breed, despite their indulgence they loved making things tiny. 

The purpose of the night was drowning in the show of snobbery, and you were so bitter inside at the show they put on for each other that you opted to stay quiet so as not to make Rydal uncomfortable. These were his peers, the people he grew up with, the old man in the corner, his godfather, the lady with the laughable plastic surgery was his favourite ‘aunt’ growing up, giving him the biggest presents at his birthdays. Countless familiar faces for him, all of them sneering at you. 

The comforting touch of his hand leaves your back and you immediately turn to him in a near panic, the idea of being left alone in the sea of sharks making you stumble over your shoes. Upon seeing Rydal’s father right behind you, you opted to stay silent. This was not the first time you were meeting him, but it was the first time you were seeing him on school grounds after spending the summer at their family home. 

“Rydal,” he nodded to you and greeted you by name, “Come, I need you to meet a couple of people from that firm I was telling you about. Quickly now.” 

Lawrence Keener wasn’t the most terrifying person you’d ever met but he was definitely intimidating and he definitely was aware of it. The man had influence at the school, and honestly anywhere else he went. His handsome face and strong jaw demanded respect before his clothes did, his bespoke and cleanly pressed suit giving him a reason to tilt his chin just that smidge higher so he could look down at you with a single snobby brow raised. You could see where Rydal learned that expression from. 

He was somewhat dismissive of your presence, which only served to piss you off further but you had to hold back from rolling your eyes since Rydal was looking at you with a plea in his eyes, asking if it was okay to leave you for a few minutes to go meet the senior partners his father was pushing him towards. 

You nodded with a tight smile to him, trying to be supportive without showing how anxious you already were on the inside. Stepping into his world and pretending you were fine with it was proving to be more difficult than you initially thought.

Rydal leaves you with a relatively chaste kiss on the cheek, his father watching you two with blatant boredom before ushering him away with a hand on the back of his neck. After watching them turn a corner, you have to blink a few times before gathering your bearings and heading straight for the hors d'oeuvres, the miniature yet intricate selection taking your attention away from the prickly company. Devilled eggs, stuffed mushrooms with crispy onions on top, micro fig pies, melted brie and shortbread, roasted oysters with butter mignonette, caviar and creme tartlets and bowls and bowls of shrimp cocktail met your eyes. Reaching to try a pie, it almost made you laugh at how tiny it was in the palm of your hand. 

Some time must have passed and you’d eaten several different kinds of mini appetisers, gulping down the mocktail a random floating waiter had offered you after watching you stuff your face while you observed others mingling and networking. Hearing Rydal’s voice over the soft music playing, your eyes start searching for him excitedly. 

There’s a girl. Walking next to him, there is a very pretty girl. And they’re laughing. She’s touching his arm – familiar, they’re familiar – and he doesn’t brush it off, he’s smiling with her and for a moment you forget that you’re together. 

They look… they look quite perfect together, to be honest. She’s taller than you, blonde hair perfectly coiffed with a classic cocktail dress in a shade of blue that matched her eyes, making her smile look all the more bright. The girl in question throws her head back in laughter at something Rydal says, and it must have been funny at the way she covers her mouth elegantly to hide her grin and–and you want to leave. Badly. He’s not flirting but he’s also not taking her hand off of his arm, and he’s still smiling at her. 

They…fit. She looks like she belongs. Here, with him, on his arm, wherever she pleases really. Maybe she’s the girl his father wanted him to go for, the choice that made sense for him. The option that was easier. The kind of girl who crossed her ankles when she sat at the dinner table, the one who knew which one the soup spoon was. The girl with the right parents, the right upbringing. The one who didn’t need a room at their family home because she had her own next door. The one he didn’t have to take shopping to make her look the part at a charity gala. 

The girl that wasn’t a charity case. 

You should just leave now, and leave them to it. They would probably be engaged right after graduation. Rydal would get a job with the law firm his father was pressuring him about and she would be the host of their next charity event. Hell, maybe she’d even run for a council position. Talk about a power couple. 

While your intrusive thoughts were spiralling, you get caught staring by Rydal, his eyes lighting up to see you and you can see the words forming on his lips as he’s about to call out for you, most likely to introduce you to the girl in question. Turning on your heel before he had the chance to get your name out, you walk with speed and purpose, hunting for the washroom to collect yourself. You know people are looking at you walking past them, you probably look a little out of it but you couldn’t care less right now, just focused on getting some air and maybe splashing some water on your face.

Ducking into the washroom with a sigh of relief – the door matched the wood tone of the walls, the little sign above labelled “Washroom” in tiny, cursive writing making it incredibly difficult to find – you manage to find an empty stall. Leaning your head back against the stall door, you close your eyes as you try to even your breathing. You have to manage the anxiety bubbling up in your chest and the influx of negative thoughts about Rydal, it’s not fair to you or him.

The washroom door swings open and shuts, a pocket of music from the main hall echoing for a few seconds before giving way to the animated chatter of the girls who just entered. Their giggles and whispers became more clear once they settled in front of the large mirror hanging above the marble sinks. 

“I’m going to need a lot more champagne to withstand anymore of that woman’s inane chatter, like, we’re already helping so much,” one girl huffed. 

Peeking your eyes through the tiny gap in the door, you catch a glimpse of the back of their heads. 

“Yeah well at least your boyfriend hasn’t been ignoring you all night. All I said was that he was repeating his outfit and that people would notice!” 

“Oh honey, don’t worry. Nobody is going to notice that with Rydal walking around with his charity case girlfriend. What the fuck does he see in her anyway?” Another girl said, carelessly loud. 

Your ears perked up again, your heart dropping in your stomach. Now was not the best time for you to hear this, their conversation only confirming your shameful thoughts about your boyfriend. 

“I always thought he was easy but to stoop so low? She’s basically the farmer’s daughter!” 

The scandal in her voice almost made you laugh in disbelief from where you were hiding in the stall. 

“I think he’s doing it just to get back at his father. Lawrence doesn’t even look at her.” 

Well. That’s not… that’s not what you wanted to hear. Lawrence looked at you, right? He said hello perfectly politely, right? You’re frowning at the thought.

“Ha! That’s because he wanted Colette for him. My mom told me he’s secretly hoping Rydal wakes up one morning, ready to go running back to Barbie Blue Eyes and make them all proud parents,” the loud one from earlier said with a wicked tone. 

Colette… you didn’t know a Colette. Blue eyes? Could they be speaking about The Girl from earlier? Were they right, were you just a phase for him? 

“Oh my god El, you kill me! They are really blue, and that dress she’s wearing tonight looks so fucking good on her, I can’t deny her that. It’s like she got it custom made to match her eyes.” 

Oh fuck. The Girl was Colette. Of fucking course. 

And from the sounds of it, she was Rydal’s ex. No wonder he never mentioned her. No wonder she was so friendly with him, hands all over his arms, giggling together like a couple of young lovers. Compared to her, she was the obvious choice, and it wasn’t a surprise that Lawrence had given his approval. 

“Sounds like Colette,” the third girl chimed in. 

“I don’t care how much Rydal spends on this new girl, she isn’t fooling anybody. I bet she’ll be gone by the winter. Anyways,” the first girl sighs tiredly, as if unloading all that gossip took a physical toll on her. “How’s my lipstick, Vee?” 

They descended into a different topic, focused on adjusting each other’s appearance until they left the washroom leaving you to stew in silence. They wouldn’t have known you were listening but they said everything you didn’t need to hear anyway. 

So Rydal was dating this perfect girl, Colette, before you got together. You were the rebound. You were never permanent. You didn’t belong. 

You should’ve known he wasn’t serious, it was too good to be true. You should never have opened up to him, never have trusted him with all your insecurities and vulnerabilities. He probably bought all the girls Chanel. He couldn’t have been serious about you. He hasn’t even met your mom, hasn’t visited your home yet. You couldn’t let him get any closer. 

Stepping out and gently splashing your cheeks with some cold water, you walk out the doors on shaky knees and look around. Nobody is paying you any attention now and you exhale a breath of relief. These people are never going to respect you. No matter how many pretty clothes he buys you. 

Rydal finds you before your eyes find him, his hand snaking around your waist and mouth finding your ear to whisper a sweet little I missed you, softly kissing your skin. You shiver, and despite the direction your thoughts were going you find comfort in his smell and warmth, closing your eyes while you turn your body into his. 

He’s the same and yet he isn’t. Rydal slips into his social persona and you’ve never really paid attention before but there’s a slight difference to his voice and once you notice it, it bothers you. You stare at him, perplexed and hurt. You wonder if you know him properly at all. Which one is the real one? Is he pretending with you or with them? 

Rydal tells you he has someone to introduce you to but your stomach starts churning and you think you’re gonna be sick because you see Colette making her way towards you in the crowd and you can’t face her, not after what you just heard. 

“I feel kind of sick, actually, can we go? Like, now?” 

You know you have a frantic edge to your voice but you can’t help it. 

“Can we go in a bit? Just stick it out for a little longer, baby—“ 

There’s a bubble of anxiety in your chest that rises to your throat the closer she gets and you look to Rydal with pure panic, upset that he’d even suggest you stay in this stifling room for any longer. He stops talking upon noticing the tears welling in your eyes, brows immediately furrowing in concern and then nodding quickly.

“Okay, yeah. Yeah, we can go, c’mon.” 

His hand returns to the small of your back, guiding you out of the hall and you’re glad for it because all of a sudden your vision is blurry and if it weren’t for his persistent hands helping you, you would’ve surely never found your way out. 

The way back to his room was tense. Not the comfortable silence you were used to, your throat closed and sealed shut since leaving. Your mouth has opened and shut several times, wanting to break the silence but your tongue felt like lead. 

Rydal doesn’t make any attempt at conversation either. After putting his blazer jacket around your shoulders, he stuck his hands in his pocket and frowned the whole walk back. 

By the time he let you in his room, your bottom lip was wobbling and your anxiety was suffocating you in its attempt for release. Either you were going to cry or yell or both. 

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you reach for the makeup wipes you keep with his things, aggressively wiping at your eyes and fighting with the layers of mascara you had put on. He slowly comes up behind you, not looking into your eyes but his hands reach to unclasp your necklace, brushing your hair aside for ease of access. 

You inhale a shuddering breath. 

You should just do it now. Just come right out and say it. You may as well cut your losses and let him be happy with whoever he wants, let him make his father happy and stop standing in his way. You were only holding him back, and that’s not what you wanted to do. You still loved him, even if tonight did break your heart. 

Dropping the necklace on the counter, he reaches for the zipper of your dress next but his hands still and instead rest on your waist as he presses his forehead into your shoulder. 

“Did something happen? Did someone… say something?” He mumbled, the vibrations of his voice almost triggering your tears. Instead you let out a sniffle.

“She really is beautiful. Why didn’t you tell me about her?” 

“Who?” 

“Why did I have to find out about her from a bunch of girls in the washroom? Does she go here? Is that why your dad doesn’t look me in the eye when he talks to me?”

“…it’s not like that—“ he sighs.

“No? It’s not like you become someone else when we’re around these people? It’s not like you have this whole goddamn life that I’m not part of, that I’ll never be part of because they’re never going to accept me? They’re never going to respect me, never think I’m good enough?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t even know what you heard!”

“Everyone thinks I’m with you just for your money, you know. They called me the farmer's daughter. They said I’m your fucking charity case. Do you know how that makes me feel? As if I don’t already feel like an outsider here?”

He opens his mouth to respond but you don't let him, rushing to hurt him the way you’re hurting inside. 

“You’ve never had to work a day in your life, you don’t know what it’s like in my shoes.” You laugh humorlessly. “What are we doing, Rydal?” 

“What do you mean?” His voice sounds so small and the knife just twists deeper in your gut. 

“Why should I have to deal with this constant bullshit from the people in your life? I don’t even know them! Maybe… maybe we should—“

“Stop, stop, listen I can handle everyone else being upset with me, but not you. Not you, please. I can’t take it from you, please don’t say what I think you’re going—“ 

“I don’t know. I just can’t, I— maybe, maybe we should break up, I think you’d feel better, too, I think—“

“How could you think that? How could you say that?” He’s upset, expression sour and twisted.

He looks the way you feel. 

You watch him fumble for words. 

“I literally left my dad at this stupid party and he’s going to be fucking pissed, like seriously livid because he was building me up to his buddies but– but I don’t care because I wanted to make sure you were okay!”

His palms grip your waist tighter and he steps closer, crowding you against the basin and doesn’t give you any room to move. You can’t look at him so instead you stare at the makeup wipe, the angry black marks mirroring your heart as your mind yells at you to run, to leave and hide where he can’t hurt you, where he can’t see you crumble and break after he inevitably agrees to leave you. 

You push it once more.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe I should’ve just left you there.” 

There’s a small part of your brain that tells you that you’re being irrational. That he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t care, he must care even a tiny amount, even if you were a temporary toy. 

His hands leave you for a second and he takes a step away. You feel cold, immediately feeling small and stupid, fighting between wanting to cry and going numb until suddenly the familiar warmth comes back, his hand pushing your back with so much force that your hands shoot out in front of you to catch yourself. One on the mirror, one on around the edge of the vanity. 

Looking up at Rydal in shock, you open your mouth to ask him what the fuck his problem is until you see he’s not even looking at you, his eyes are trained on your ass and he’s biting his lip, but he still looks… broken. 

“Rydal, what the fu—“

“Stop. Talking. You’ve said enough.” His voice was almost a whisper but still firm enough to cut through yours, and his hands were still kneading your hips. 

His behaviour is new and kind of confusing, if you’re being honest. It’s clear he’s never been denied before in his life. He looks helpless and angry and worried and aggravated and entirely too focused on your body at this moment for any of it to make sense. 

Rydal’s fingers trail down your dress until they reach the slit in the back and leave goosebumps as they make their way back up, hooking into your panties and then tugging them off and around your heels. Upon rising, he’s still avoiding eye contact. Your cheeks are burning, legs slightly wider than before. Despite being mad at him, your body still obeys. 

“So mouthy all the time.”

Balling up your panties, he surprises you further by shoving them in your mouth even as you protest and try to push back on him but his body keeps your balance wavering. You have no choice but to keep your hands where they were if you didn’t want to fall. 

Your eyes must be bugging out of your sockets and the rise and fall of your chest is coming quicker and quicker.

“If that’s what you really want, then leave.” He’s saying this while the tips of his thick fingers brush and tease your entrance, keeping you frozen in place.

Your mind was at odds with your body as you felt your instinctive reaction to him touching you. Fighting the urge to embrace the desire now dripping down your thighs, you knew you had the ability to walk away if you wanted to and yet you found yourself pressing back against his hand wanting more. 

“Aren’t you gonna leave? Isn’t that what you wanted? No?” 

Rydal slides two fingers inside your cunt, easily and without warning and you grunt but it’s muffled against the cloth. This is absurd, you think dumbly. You want to feel embarrassed but you can’t bring yourself to.

“Didn’t think so, baby,” he’s saying while stepping closer and his fingers reach even deeper, if that were possible.

His mouth comes up to your ear, whispering his next words and sending them straight to your gut, weighing heavily inside you. 

“I need you, can’t you see that? Look at me,” his hot breath hits the shell of your ear and you’re panting. “Can’t you tell? How fucking badly I need you?” 

So you look at him, and you see a desperate and needy man in the place of your Rydal, the one you’re familiar with. This wasn’t the same man you were used to, the one who would make you laugh while he was making his way inside you. This Rydal was upset and he was adamant on making you regret your words. 

His fingers were curling inside your wet heat, pressing up against that spot that made you see stars and stealing your breath so hard your fingers were curling. Your fingerprints were marking the mirror, the squeaking sound making you shudder against his body. Moaning around the fabric still in your mouth, you tried to grind down on his hand, desperate for him to move, to do something, anything to the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter. 

Rydal could feel your hips moving back against his hand and moved to still you, fingers holding you tight enough to bruise. Slipping his fingers out, he taps them against your clit before removing his hand entirely and making your shoulders sag at the loss.

Reaching one hand up and back to keep him close, afraid of his warmth leaving you, your hand wraps around his neck as he rushes to unbuckle his pants noisily. He’s shaking a little, breaths coming out ragged at how badly he needs to fill you up. 

Once he frees himself, Rydal uses one hand to push you back down and bunch your pretty dress up, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in swiftly without hesitation. 

He groans loudly, tilting his head back with his eyes shut for a moment before looking down at where he’s seated to the hilt inside you, unmoving. 

“You lookin’? You need me, too, I can see it in your eyes. Look,” he reaches forward to grab at your jaw, making you watch yourself as he slowly pulls his cock out and slams it back inside to kiss your cervix. Again, and again, and again. “See that?”

Rydal forces your head to nod with his hand still holding your face while you try to speak, voice coming out unclear against the panties still in your mouth. The stupid fucking fabric was making it hard to breathe and you were going to pass out, drunk on his cock, you were going to faint against the god damn builder’s grade medicine cabinet. You want to moan out loud, you want to tell him he wasn’t playing fair, that he was going too slow. You want to pull his beautiful hair out and yell at him, you want him to hurry up and fuck you harder, you—

You’re coming. 

“Ohhh, fuuuuck,” he let go of your face, hands dropping to press on your lower back and push you more forward, your hands clambering on the mirror like a fool. “Look so—so, oh fuck, baby, look at you.”

It didn’t take him long at all to make a mess of you. 

“You gonna take it back? Take back what you said, tell me you were wrong,” he whines, still fucking you hard but not hard enough. 

The problem was that he was dragging his girth out slowly but stealing your breath on every hard thrust forward. And it still wasn’t enough, not for this, not for right now. 

Your attempt at speaking is ruined by the fact that your panties were still in your mouth, your saliva soaking the material by this point. You wanted to spit it out, hurl the obstructive garment across the room but it wasn’t possible in your current position. He can’t possibly be stupid enough to expect you to answer him like this. 

He almost laughs when he realises you’re trying to say something, quickly pulling the fabric from your mouth to let you finally have your voice back and you immediately let out a cry at his perfectly timed thrust. His cock was moving faster, intent on not having you speak but making you come again. Now that he could hear you, he was becoming more and more unhinged. 

Embarrassingly, you’re having a hard time keeping your voice down, whines and cries falling from your lips continuously while Rydal fucked you against his sink. Your hands are leaving fingerprints all over his mirror from where you’re trying to get a grip and push yourself back on him, his own hands keeping you bent over for him but squeezing whatever flesh he could reach. 

Leaning forward to kiss your back, he mumbles words he thinks you don’t hear, don’t leave me, mine, my baby, stay here—

“S’wrong, I-I was wrong,” you whimper. “M’sorry, fuck—“

“Shhh—“

“I—“ you hiccup. “I hate them, I, yesss right there, god—“

“I know, baby, I know, I got you,” he’s back to grunting in your ear and you can’t see or feel anything that isn’t Rydal. 

You’re overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight, your feelings from earlier still bubbling up and causing you to tear up while he continues to ram into you. He sees you crying, reaching his hand in front of you to toy with your clit.

“Stay with me,” he demands, voice low against the shell of your ear. Desperate, he’s still so fucking needy even after making you cry on his cock. 

You nod before you realise you’re nodding, sniffling in your daze. 

Rydal’s index finger, the same one he teased you with earlier, starts circling your clit in the surefire way he knows how to make you cum, grunting when he feels your walls fluttering over his length. 

And when you’re gushing all over him, his finger still circles your nub but he stills his hips as he feels you come undone and talks you through it. Pretty baby, love you so fucking much, stay, stay with me, stay—

Lifting you off his length he takes off your dress completely and turns you around with his hand wrapped around your neck to bring his mouth to yours, kissing you like a man possessed. He doesn’t wait to slip his tongue into your mouth, claiming it as his own to prove a point. He’s always fucking proving a point, always pushing his way through your walls. 

Walking you backwards towards his bed, he only breaks away from your mouth to help you remove his shirt and pants, your hands mapping out his chest and shoulders. You don’t let him get far from you even as you lower yourself to lay back on the mattress, pulling his body along needily while he crawls over you. 

This time when he enters you, it’s slower, softer, gentle, but you’re shaking in his arms, foreheads touching as you share a breath and syrupy kisses. You cry a little, mascara messy and lipstick smudged, but he shushes you, mocking you, “thought you could leave me,” he says and anticipating your rebuttal — as he does, he always fucking does — he says, “thought you could go on without my cock, hmm?”

And then he’s kissing you again before you can say anything, effectively shutting you up while pressing you into the mattress, fucking the fight out of you as his hips slide into yours again and again. Your bodies are sweat ridden, your pussy is soaking his sheets and he still hasn’t cum yet, but you think he’s close. He has to be, he’s barely pulling out now, his length throbbing inside your pulsing walls as he ruts into you. 

He’s biting your shoulder and your eyes are focused on the popcorn ceiling, your oversensitive core trembling as he tries to pull another orgasm from you. You’re probably crying, it’s hard to tell at this point, face and body damp, but your ears are attuned to his sounds, his gorgeous whimpers and grunts. Rydal’s body is heavy on yours but you’re floating, you don’t feel a thing until his thumb starts pressing hard against your clit that you try to curl in on yourself, thrashing against him and– yeah, you’re crying. 

He’s speaking absolute filth, it doesn’t make any sense, but in the midst of your pleasure you hear him saying he’s going to fill you up. 

He does. It’s so wet between your legs, the glide of his half aborted thrusts smacking lewdly and loudly and you feel like an exposed nerve and numb all at once. His spend is leaking out of you and just when you expect him to pull out and play with your puffy folds, he turns on his side, keeping you full of him. Rydal rests his face against your chest, your sweaty and spent bodies tangled together. Boneless and breathless. 

His arms are everywhere, one running down the length of your thigh soothingly and the other wrapped under your torso to pull you close by your waist. Touching, always touching. That’s been one constant you’ve noticed from the start. Your breaths are echoing loudly and you’re almost afraid to speak, afraid to ruin the tranquil silence that envelops you both. 

You open your eyes to find him already watching you. 

“I’m hopeless without you,” he says, so so softly. “I’ll let you win at monopoly every time, I’ll stop ruining the ending of the books you’re reading, fuck, just tell me what I have to do. Tell me, I’ll do it.”

You just hold him tighter to you, kissing his temple.

[iolaussharpe-24]

I've realized something.

Brian Petsos movies don't have a lot of fans. Oscar Isaac fans like his characters in Brian Petsos movies. We don't talk about Revenge for Jolly!; we talk about Cecil. We don't talk about Ticky Tacky unless we're praising Lucien and/or comparing/connecting him to Anselm. We don't talk about Lightningface; we talk about how pathetic Basil is and compare him to Steven Grant. We don't talk about Big Gold Brick unless it's to bash it, talk about the cast, and obsess over Anselm. I didn't think this at first, because I just assumed I was the wrong kind of viewer for Petsos projects (I previously mentioned that they kind of reminded me of Jim Jarmusch movies), but the more I've looked around online at reviews and discussions, I've been finding this pattern of negativity. It seems like everyone just kind of agrees that Brian Petsos doesn't really make good movies, but Oscar Isaac makes them worth seeing at least once. And, yes, I am aware that there are things Petsos has done without Isaac, but when you search 'Brian Petsos' the first things that come up are the ones that Oscar Isaac is a part of. This includes The Letter Room, which was written and directed by Elvira Lind but Petsos does have a part in solely as an actor. Even on his IMDb page, there's little to nothing about him but half of the available information is, and I quote, "frequently works with Oscar Isaac". In my opinion, that's pretty telling on it's own. I'm not trying to be mean here, I just think this is kind of an interesting thing to note. If you disagree, please let me know. I'd be happy to debate this. Personally speaking, I've watched Revenge for Jolly!, Ticky Tacky, Lightningface, and a tiny bit of Big Gold Brick. (For the record, I know that Petsos didn't direct Revenge for Jolly! but he wrote and starred in it.)

One thing I will say in Petsos' favor: There's very clearly a lot of genuine passion and love in his work and it does show. Interviews with him, the proud displays of nonsensical strangeness, and the fact that he's able to keep making movies all reflect that. You can tell that the people involved are having fun and I think that's the most important part. I think his weakness (to me) is that his projects feel like they lack something. Revenge for Jolly! didn't feel like it was going anywhere for most of it's runtime. Like it wanted to be and do something but didn't know how. It had fairly decent moments... in the first half. But those moments only landed out of shock value, and they very quickly became predictable. (Also, what was up with that bar scene?) Ticky Tacky and Lightningface felt flat. Like bread that didn't rise. Maybe they needed more time to really explore their premises and characters. Like, if we saw Lucien and Claire together before he finds out about the cheating, or if we get to know Basil before the lightning strike. Both of these are about people going crazy, but without that sense of who they used to be, it doesn't really hit that hard and leaves you wondering 'what the hell did I just watch and why?' This is one thing I think Revenge for Jolly! understood, because we get to see Harry, Jolly, and Cecil before the inciting incident of the movie. We get a sense of their relationships with one another. I can't speak for Big Gold Brick because I haven't seen it in full so I'm not going to bother saying anything for the bits I saw either. That's just not fair for anybody.

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 5

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death

New character alert! Face claim, of course, is Oscar Isaac, specifically his look in Drive 🥰

****************

Dandelion

A million little wishes float across the sky

But it's a waste of breath and it's a waste of time I know

Cause just like him, you always leave me cryin' dandelion~Danelion, Kacey Musgraves

“So then Luke goes to Dangobah to find Yoda”

“Wait, whose Yoda? Is that another Jedee?”

“Jedi, but yes”

“Why?”

“Old Ben told him to”

“Isn’t he dead?”

“Yes, but he came to Luke at the start of this movie?”

“What? When?”

“When Luke was in the cave”

“Are we sure he wasn’t hallucinating?”

“I- No, no it was Ben. Jedi can come back in visions, like ghosts”

“Well, that’s awfully convenient”

“The force makes a lot of things convenient”

Joel was doing as he promised, explaining the Star Wars movies you had never had a chance to watch so you could understand the collection of comics he had found. You weren’t particularly interested in the comics, but they seemed to excite him, so you were going to read them, hoping to continue in conversation about it. This was the first time you two had talked about anything other than The Horrors for longer than a short back and forth, in fact, this was the only piece of personality or hints of before he had given you, the rest you had gleaned from Tommy. Joel was curled up with you on your mattress, having held you close all day yesterday and last night, and after what happened with Nick, after all Joel did for you, you happily accepted it. Joel had been soft before, absolutely, but not like this, and never this long… it bordered on Tommy territory. Slowly, you noticed little similarities, small phrases or mannerism that said yeah, these two are brothers, despite the drastic differences.

He played with your hair as he laid with you, tender in his touch, it was damn near domestic you almost forget where you are.

“Do you wanna go outside? Go for a walk?” Joel asks, his voice strangely soft in your ear.

You can’t help but smile at that. “That would be nice, thank you.”

Joel instructs you to stay put, and goes into his room and comes back with shoes he must’ve gotten and kept hidden from you; you’d get farther if you ran away wearing shoes. He knelt down beside you, lacing them up and tying them for you. He, of course held your hand tightly the entire time.

He asked if you wanted to see him. You knew what he meant.

Joel had kept him strung up, hanging from the oak tree, and although you had seen many horrific things in your short time on this god forsaken planet, the sight of a man you knew, hanged, skinned and swaying in the crisp spring Wyoming breeze… this was one of the worst. Somehow, however, you couldn’t find yourself feeling any guilt. Nick had done what he did knowing full well what Joel was capable of. The risk he took was calculated, but like you, it seems he couldn’t do math.

You felt Joel slide up behind you, unsurprisingly hard, no doubt recalling last night as his hands slide around your middle, his lips beginning to graze your neck and you couldn't help but remember how he had fucked you while telling you the graphic things he had done to your rapist.. “Do you still wanna cut off his dick?” He nudges your eyes to Joel’s switchblade still in Nick’s heart.

The idea was sexy while Joel was fucking you, but the reality of it was, frankly... Icky. “Can you?”

He kisses your cheek. “Happily.” Joel directs you, his long arms reach around, taking the blade out of his naked body and, with the aid of rigor mortis, he swiftly cut off the bastards dick. Stabbing the switchblade back into Nicks cold chest, Nick’s cock between the blade and his skin. “Feeling better, little one?” His arms are quickly back to you, the hand that held the switchblade playing above the line of your sweatpants. 

“Yes, Joel” You sighed, leaning your head back into him as his hand went between your legs. You did feel better actually. The whole situation you were in was fucked, but you did feel better…

He began finger fucking you, and although you realize he hadn’t washed his hands since skinning Nick, you weren't bothered. You were about to fuck about two feet away from a rotting corpse... “Let's go back to the house.”

“No” You whispered, and Joel looked at you curiously. “Here.” You get yourself situated against the tree trunk, and you swore you heard Joel chuckle; he had you whipped.

“Good girl” He adjusted you as needed, you brace against the tree Nick was hanging from, his body feet from you, and Joel pushed your ass out, pulling down your pants before slamming into you. “Good fucking girl” He pace was immediately hard and fast, and at this angle you swore…

“Joel.”

He didn’t stop. “Hm?“

You grab his hand, placing it over your stomach, where he could very very clearly feel himself entering you, his hard cock protruding out your stomach. “You feel that Joel?”

The hand on your hip was painfully tight, he growled and bite into your neck. “Fuck, fuck baby, you like me pounding you like this? Out in the open where anyone can see you?”

“Yes” You whine, having to  rest your face on the rough bark, sweat prickling at your skin even in the cold, his hands making you feel so, so warm. “I know you’ll protect me”

He moved one hand to the tree trunk, protecting your face from the scratches, his other moving to your clit, although right now you were certain he could make you cum just from just dick right now. “I’ll always protect you, little girl, always. Won’t let nothing bad happen to you ever again.” The irony was clearly lost on him, seeing as most of your suffering was at his hands but, fuck, if it wasn’t starting to get lost on you too… He was so tender when he wanted to be, the good was so, so good, and the sex… fucking hell. He pulled your ass out a little more and suddenly you were blinded, a brand new feeling making you cry out “Right there, pretty girl? Stay still, I’ll take care of you. Look at him” Joel turned your face to the decomposing body next to you. “Look at him, little one, I’ll always take care of you”

Why did this always make you feel so fucking warm? “I know, Joel, I know, J-Joel, fuck!” You rest your face fully on his large, veiny hand, protecting you from the tree, protecting you from Nick, protecting you from everything…

For a few weeks, things go better than they had been for years. Sex with Joel kept getting better and better, and he was opening up more. Not much from before, just little bits like telling you the plots of his favorite movies… you hadn’t been in his room, nor Tommy’s… Tommy had shifted a bit too. He was more and more affectionate with you, with the door closed of course… He held you in his arms, missing you brother, or when you called out to him in the middle of the night from nightmares and he pulled you onto his lap and cradled you when you cried… sometimes he went away from days on work as trusting more that Joel wouldn’t hurt you again and none of the men would dare. You were on dangerous waters, you knew, but sometimes you could only sleep when you smelled Tommy’s skin… but again, dangerous.

That’s why, when no one came into your room with breakfast, or lunch, or to spend time with you or fuck you… you were worried. Not as worried as you were when the door finally opened and a new face appeared with food.

You scramble to stand up, images of Nick and early days of Joel flashing in your head, and you open your mouth to scream for Tommy, but he cuts you off.

“Relax, sweetheart, Nick’s body is still rotting out there, I’m not tryna match him.” He spoke with a thick accent you’d heard before; your brother, Zach, had said it was from somewhere east, one of the big cities, but wasn’t sure where. 

“What do you want?” You ask, still shaking.

He set down the food. “Tommy’s paying me to feed you today”

You narrow your eyes at the sandwich. “You’re not doing very well, missed a meal.”

He shrugged with a small, smug smile. “Didn’t pay me enough for that.” He watched you still eying the food suspiciously “You wanna talk to him?”

“Where is he? Where’s Joel…” You can’t imagine they would let a random man in your room if one was able to do this…

“Food poisoning, we think.” 

You look at the sandwich again. “I’m not eating that”

He laughed, obnoxiously loud. “Smart girl. Come on, you can make yourself something” He nudged out the door.

You couldn’t help perk up at that. You get to leave? You get to make your own food? You weren’t sure who the man was, but you were happy to take the little bit of independence. You wouldn’t do anything that would make Joel mad, just put together a sandwich or heat up some soup! How strange your life had become that these were the little pleasures. 

The man watched you intently as you managed to make some soup. He was short; taller than you still, but short none the less, a few inches under Tommy. His hair was buzzed as was his beard, dark hair to match dark skin, and large eyes that watched you like a bug.

It was fun, cooking again… You had rather enjoyed when you still were living with your dad, your mom taught you well, you were a good cook… you wondered if Joel might let you cook more… you save soup for them when they were feeling better, maybe they’d like it enough you could continue? You toast some bead on a frying pan, demand (well, ask, but with a little force) to see Joel.

When you tentatively peaked through the cracked door and Joel saw you, his eyes went wide and you saw he was about to get up, no doubt thinking you got loose, so you opened the door to reveal the strange new man you hadn’t seen around the house before. “It’s okay, he’s with me. I wanted to check on you… can I come in?” Joel lays back down, tentatively, obviously not thrilled about being seen in a vulnerable position. He was clearly sick, his tanned skin looking pale, his eyes bleary and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him… even as you placed your hand on your hip, feeling the JM etched into your skin… a reminder of what he could do… You kneel down before him with the toast. “Can you try and eat some of this for me?”

He shakes his head. “I feel like shit”

Opting to sit by him, you gently play with his hair. He looked so young like this… “I know, sweetie… but you gotta try and eat… keep up your strength. Toast won’t be so bad on your stomach…” You try to coax, and look up to see the man watching you, eying you… was he confused, wondering how the little kidnapped girl was playing nurse to her capture… but he wouldn’t understand. You weren’t sure you could explain it yourself… but this was the position you were in, and you were doing what you could…

“What are you doing?” He grumbles, taking a small bite.

“I’m helping you”

“Why”

Great question. “Because you help me”

“I hurt you” another bite.

You were taken aback by that, absolutely… he was right, he did… “But you can also be so, so good to me.”

He wouldn’t look at you. “I don’t deserve you” 

You sigh, just a little bit… deserve wouldn’t be the word… but you wouldn’t say he didn’t deserve you… he was good to you, wasn’t he? He fed you, brought you nice things, little treats, he treated you good in bed… maybe he deserved you? He did everything right… how you got here didn’t really matter, and he was right, months ago, this was better than the strange men that mouth raped you and beat you senseless… he took you away from all that, he made a better life for you… in a way, he saved you.

“You do deserve me, Joel.” You kiss his forehead, hair stuck to it with sweat from the food poisoning. “I’m gonna check on Tommy, then I’ll be back to nurse you back to health, okay?”

Joel smiled at that. “Okay, little one”

A groggy Tommy looked at you and the man, then flopped his head back down on his pillow. “I see you met Lorenzo”

So that was his name. “Yeah, when he finally decided to bring me food.”

Tommy groans. “I told you to feed her, not bring her here”

Getting on the bed, you brush Tommy’s long hair away from his face. “It’s fine, I saw Joel, he’s okay with it as long as he watches me.”

Tommy couldn’t even open his eyes. “I feel awful, honey. Fucking awful. Never eating chicken again”

You can’t help but laugh a bit as he groaned on about how much he ‘odia pollo’ as you coax him into eating a bit of toast.

You spend the day helping the Millers feel better, whipping their faces with a cool clothes, feeding them bites they could eat, cleaning up the bowls they puked in, all while Lorenzo trailed around you, no doubt in charge of making sure you didn’t run away… you couldn’t help but admit you like this, you liked taking care of them, even if you couldn’t be as affectionate with Tommy as you wanted to. The other men, it seems, were all out sick, leaving just you and Lorenzo, and of course, like everything, it was a deliberate move… There were no coincidences.

Of all the things you expected to see as you rounded the corner back to the kitchen after having left Tommy’s side, your brother was not one of them.

“Zach.” He was alive, Joel didn’t kill him… but how had Tommy not known- oh. Tommy knew. He had to have, as did Joel. They would have begun collecting from your dad again, they had no know...

He rushed over to you, taking you in his loving arms that held you so many times before, whispering your name. “Thank god you’re okay”

You blink, brain still trying to catch up. “Wha- what are you doing here?”

Zach begins to pull you away, towards the door. “I’m rescuing you, we’re leaving”

Leaving? To go where? No doubt he had a plan, but he had no idea, no idea what happened, what things were like now, how bad they had been but it had gotten so, so much better. You stop. “Zach wait!” You whisper harshly, and he turns around at you, confused.

“I have somewhere to go, I got a plan, it’s okay, everything will be fine, I promise” 

You believed he believed it… but there were 1000 things in your head right now. First, if you leave and Joel finds you… he might actually kill you, but the things he would do to you if he didn’t were much worse. Secondly, “He’ll kill you, Zach.”

“He won’t catch-”

“He won’t let me go! He won’t drop it! He will hunt me down as long as it takes and skin you alive like the last man!” 

You could see the fear in his eyes as he hushed you, grabbing your arm. “Shut up, or he’ll kill us both! Just, god, just trust me. No one will notice until morning, we’ll be hours ahead.”

You stayed firmly in place… there was the third reason you wanted to stay… the fact you’d grown comfortable here, the fact you were, despite your better judgment, falling in love with both of the men here and- wait, where was Lorenzo? “I can’t, Zach. You don’t know what he’s capable of”

Rolling his eyes like only a brother would, he tugged you. “Of course I-”

You pull down your pants just enough on the side, revealing the brand. “He did this the last time I tried to leave, fucked me on the table in front of all the other men, then left me there for them to all rape!” You didn’t tell him that Tommy had saved you, that Tommy had tucked you in and how tenderly Joel had treated you the next day, how both had bandaged you up, cared for you, even though you had been so bad. “It’s calmed down, he doesn’t hurt me, I have more freedom… I don’t want to throw this away”

Zach was panged, desperate, eyes watering as he tried to take you away from what you knew he thought of as your hell, but was truly where you had felt most at home since your mothers death. “I won’t let him hurt you again, I’ll protect you.”

“Like you protected me against dad?” It came out fast than you’d expected, no chance to block it… it wasn’t fair, you couldn’t and didn’t blame Zach for that but it was true. Joel saved you, cared for you, Joel killed men that hurt you… Joel wasn’t who you needed to be protected from, Joel was the one who protected you. You yank your hand away from your crying brother. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t blame you… but I’m staying”

He opened his mouth to argue, but all that came out was a desperate 'please'. You shake your head. You belonged with the Millers now. “You change your mind, you find a way to escape, I’ll be at the ranch, and I swear to god I will keep you safe this time.”

Now you were crying too as you went to hug him. “Thank you, Zach” Alone in the kitchen, you back up against the fridge, sink down, and cry, cry, cry… keep crying until Lorenzo appeared in the doorway

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

 Of course. Of course you didn’t avoid the shitshow. “Okay so you saw that. You gonna tell Joel, rank up, get whatever it is you want.” You sniffle as he leans against the doorway, crossing his arms. 

“No, I already got my payment for this shitshow“ You look up at him, wet and puffy eyes telling him to go on. “He paid me to give everyone food poisoning so you guys could leave, and you fucking wasted it. No skin off my back, but Jesus. You know, pre-outbreak, we had a word for girls like you, who stayed with men who beat them”

“Joel doesn’t-”

“You wanna know what that word is?”

You sigh. “Wha-”

“Dumb bitches”

Lorenzo was pissing you the fuck off, but there was something else that was pushing your repressed anger up… You stand, shoving Lorenzo aside and storm down the hall to Tommy’s room, bursting in.

He smiled lazily up at you as you close the door. “Hey honey, the tea helped-”

“You fucking knew” Pointing dramatically at his sick figure on the bed, you watch the confusion on his face. “What? What did I know?”

“That my brother is alive, asshole!”

As he slowly realizes whats happening, he forces himself to sit up, despite the dizziness and nausea, his hand open palmed and out towards you. “Okay, just relax, tell me what happ-”

You were angrier that perhaps you had a right to be, feeling betrayed and hurt by the man you had trusted, however foolishly. “Don’t use your ‘Calm down Joel’ voice on me! You knew my brother was alive and you didn’t tell me!”

He almost argues. He almost says no, no I didn’t know, this is news to me too… but you’ve already figured it out. “If you knew he was alive, you’d try to leave again, and you’d get caught, and God knows what he’ll do to you if you run away” his eyes were pleading with you to understand, but he was not asking for forgiveness… you knew he’d do it again.

You step closer. “How many times did you hold me while I cried, missing him, wanting him-”

“That’s just it!” He stands now, towering over you, but you know him better than to think it’s a threat, so you don’t back away and simply look up at him, glaring. “You wanted to be with him, and I couldn’t let that happen”

“So you kept me away from my family, because you’d miss me?”

“No it’s because you’d be dead!”

You shake your head, not quite believing his motivations… “I don’t think so. I think you want to stay because you just want me here so you can play knight in shining armor”

Wide-eyed and hurt, he looks down at you. “No, that’s not it-”

In your anger, you shove him; it doesn’t go very far considering his sturdy stance and strong shoulders, but the action caused what you wanted it to. It hurt his feelings. “Fuck you, Tommy”

Tommy put his hands on your shoulders, not backing down despite the wave of nausea threatening him. “Honey, I swear to you, I’m just trying to help, all I wanted to do this whole time was help you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you couldn’t pull away from his touch yet; you never could. “Fuck. You!”

Frustration boiled over before the vomit did. “What is the big deal! Joel knew too!” At that, he gently pushed you back as he dropped to his knees, violently throwing up in his trash can, his whole body wracked into heaves. He did the hard part for you; you weren't sure if you were strong enough to disengage his touch.

You watch him, wanting so badly to kneel by his side, to rub his back and keep his hair out of the puke as you had done all day today… but you couldn’t. You need to have something, something, for your anger to hold onto, even if it was Tommy, even if it was just for a night. “You are the one I was supposed to trust!” You scream, not caring who heard you. “I was supposed to be able to believe in you, but you held me as I screamed, and cried and you didn’t tell me! Fuck! You!” Your face was soaked as you screamed, screamed at Tommy for every rape, every violation, every beating and branding that he had only every tried to save you from, and took it out on him for one small thing that he actually did. Because he was Tommy, because he was supposed to be different. 

And because he was Tommy, he let you. 

You slammed the door when you left. 

Lorenzo was in the hall, watching you with crossed arms as you left Tommy for Joel’s room, muttering again about you being a dumb bitch, but you don't care.

Joel’s room was dark; he didn’t open his eyes, and for a moment you thought he was asleep and began to retreat away when he spoke. 

“Come on in, little one”

You slink through the door, closing it behind you. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

He opened his eyes at that. Today was the first day you had even seen his room, did he even want you in it? You watched him consider, before opening up his blanket for you. With a smile, you crawl in, and he tightly wraps you up in the blanket and his arms where you were growing more and more comfortable.

“Everything okay? I heard yell’n. Couldn’t tell if I was dream’n or not.” He asked, sleepily, nestling his face into your neck.

You considered the options… best to not lie completely. Safe and secure in Joel, despite the chaos of today, you began to relax in him. “Yeah, Tommy just pissed me off, that's all” 

You could feel Joel smile against your skin.

****************

Not nearly as high drama as the last few by next week we're back!!!

I've seen a few of you saying you have theories and i want you to know I WANNA HERE ALL YOU'RE THEORIES!!!! Drop them in my ask box so i can share them with the class and everyone csn share their thoughts!

Also as I stated above, I GOT A PLAYLIST GOING! if you have a song you think matches, comment or send in an ask and ill add it if i think t fits!

Also, i've moved to 10 chapters + the alt ending for the series! I'd love to here all thoughts and theories you have <3

Thank you alllllll for the reblogs and all the kind words!!!! It really means the world to me

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[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Do you think any of the OI characters could be convinced to put on a sexy nurse outfit, while taking care of their sick partner?

I am giggling! (I really tried not to just be like YES to all of them, but I am a weak, weak person.)

oscar isaac charcters x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Warnings: silliness, references to sexy times

Word Count: 465

_____________________________________

Steven: Giggles the whole time, and puts on a fantastically over the top accent to go with the new character he’s created. You have to kiss him to shut him up when he starts quoting Carry On, Doctor.

Marc: Will put on the outfit and make you take your medicine and go to sleep. “I’m taking care of you, so you feel better, why did you want something else?” Is a little shit about it until you beg him for kisses.

Jake: No sooner than the words are out of your mouth, he’s already scrambling to get changed. Nurse Lockley is here with medicine (his dick) and to take care of you (fuck your brains out if you’re up to it.) 

Nathan: Nathan ‘I’m not putting that fucking thing on’ Bateman. Getting all grumpy and muttering under his breath. The second you are out of the room though and (preferably) laying down, he’s knocking on the door in the most outrageous outfit you’ve ever seen and telling you he’s ‘been hired by Dr Bateman to take care of you’.

Anselm: You never have to even bring up the idea, because Anselm has already dressed up for you in a nurse’s outfit many times. (He has several for different occasions, but tends to prefer a custom made latex one that is skin tight and crotchless.) 

Cecil: Thinks the idea is hilarious and gets a little too into character. Tries to wear a pair of very high heels and you just about manage to convince him to take them off before he falls over and gives himself a concussion. 

Club!Blue: Doesn’t mind dressing up at all and is far too into it. (If a guard knocks on his office door, he will be answering it in full costume and with his cock out.)

Orderly!Blue: Please do not encourage this man. 

Jack: Has a disturbingly realistic outfit with blood stains that you do NOT want to ask where they came from. 

Santiago: Takes some convincing because it makes him feel a little self conscious, but he wants to try to not only cheer you up but also to get over some insecurities and he knows he’s safe with you.

Shimmer!Kane: Puts it on without a second thought, clothes are clothes, right? However he does like that it makes you happy. 

King John: Even though this is not historically time period accurate, I can’t help myself - he’s gonna fuck you in a plague doctor mask. I’m sorry.

Rydal: Will be a brat about it, because he wants you to spank him in the outfit.

Laurent: Starts going on about how he’s a ‘wet nurse’ and keeps shoving his boobs in your face.

Poe: As if this man doesn’t have 400 outfits on hand at all times.

_________________

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[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Hello. I watched the show the haunting of hill house on Netflix recently. And I am really impressed with Oliver Jackson-cohen and then I remember he was a popular fancast for moonknight. he lowkey looks like Smallwood's MK and he's a great actor and he's Jewish. What are your thoughts on him as Moon knight?do you think he can do better than Oscar Isaac? Most of comic mk fans who doesn't like the mk show prefers him than Oscar isaac.

So I have not watched Haunting of Hill House and know nothing of Oliver Jackson-Cohen except what I just looked up. He looks alright. I'm sure he's amazing.

When they announced Oscar Isaac, I was skeptical because I only knew him from Star Wars as Poe, which I enjoyed very much, but I didn't know the man's range.

I've mentioned many times that I am always skeptical of any Moon Knight media until I can take it in for myself (Marvel has hurt me far too many times).

I think for the story they told, Oscar did an outstanding job and his need to do his own research and advocate for certain groups was amazing.

I am… Mildly... miffed that Marvel has put Oscar in other roles. (Don't get me wrong. I adore him as Spider-man 2099 Miguel. And he was in that role first before he was Moon Knight). What annoys me about it is that the re-use of an actor is taking away from someone else of that culture to get exposure, work, and representation.

Oscar Isaac is of mixed Latino descent and fits the Latino Miguel role nicely. He can use his accent and his Spanish! Full love!

Now, here's the problem. Was Marvel going to cast someone Jewish to play Moon Knight?

Did they cast someone Jewish to play Magneto? What about Billy Maximoff?

What about upcoming Ben Grimm? Arguably THE most Jewish Marvel character they have?

Ebon Moss-Bachrach is an American Jewish actor from New York (I am not going to get into any patrial lineal arguments). Baruch Hashem! It can be done!

They gave a Jewish role to a Jewish actor. THE most Jewish character they have (I'm not going to argue about Magneto here but I feel like Ben Grimm and Magneto are their own different sides to the same coin. ask me more about that later).

I feel like Marvel bit off a lot of attempted representation with Moon Knight and jumped in half cocked.

Grief stricken, Traumatized, PTSD former soldier, D.I.D,, Jewish, Avatar to an Egyptian Moon God, Autistic, anger management problem… I'm sure I'm missing a few…

If they gave this role to a Jewish Actor, it would have been purely by accident.

Moon Knight was SO underrated in the Marvel universe I just about had a heart attack when they said they were going to give him a live action series!

So now they had to take a VERY unknown character who has a history of being seen as "The Crazy face ripping off Egptian God Worshiping guy" and make people want to watch the show. People who probably didn't even read the comics as well as die hard comic fans.

How do you do that? You give them a well known and well liked Actor who will draw people in just to see that actor.

And it worked.

The number of people that started watching the show who had never done ANYTHING Marvel before SPIKED thanks to Oscar. It was a VERY smart play.

What I am VERY happy they didn't do? Cast some white guy.

Oscar Isaac's casting opened up the possibility of Sephardic Moon Knight. Comic Moon Knight is VERY Ashkenazi jewish Orthodox. Up until this point, there were people who had no idea that there were other types of Jews! Hispanic Jews? Whhhhaaaaat?!

I think that is an amazing conversation to have! And man I wish they had explored THAT prospect! Make my Moon Knight Sephardic! Heck yeah! See my boys getting down to Ladino music! A little Salsa in the club and a little gefilte fish veracruzana on Friday night!

So, yes... we could have had more comic accurate Moon Knight... But is it more important to get a guy that looks like the character or someone that can play the character and open new doors?

I would love to see Ladino Jake. The sass. The attitude. The swears.

But back to the original question: Moon Knight played by an actual Jewish Actor. I'd love to see it. Again, I don't know anything about Oliver, but I'm not a comic purist and don't need the characters to LOOK like the characters. As long as they can show up and make me believe they are the character, I'm happy.

Did you know they invented Marvel Ultimate because of Sam Jackson? White Nick Fury was so ingrained and popular in 616 that when Sam Jackson got the role, and was GOOD at it, they immediately went "How do we marry the comics with MCU so we can have Sam Jackson comics without going "Ignore all that white guy stuff"?!? And now we have Marvel Ultimate Universe.

I plan to watch the Haunting series someday (I started the other one but had to stop because life happened and I never got back to it), so maybe I'll be sad they didn't cast Oliver. But I'm not sure his role would have fit in with the style of what the show was trying to do. Maybe if they had put out a Moon Knight movie, it would have needed a different guy.

[nerdieforpedro]

In chatting with @megamindsecretlair and her sweet comments on how I write my version of Javier Peña, it has me thinking about how I write Peña in general and then I thought about if I should make a headcannon Masterlist describing how I approach different Pedro Pascal, Oscar Isaac, Garrett Hedlund, Gabriel Luna and other characters. 🤔