#pimple island

[yellosnacc]

remade Algaechh's reference

The guide of Neal and the rest of the 'expedition'. They are a land uniima grown among sky uniima, who finds enjoyment in Ciwan (the sloman nation) things.

They come to Ciwa to pick Neal up for a little island adventure.

[lookwhatyoumademelou]

.

[sohannabarberaesque]

So much for those "relaxing" "pimple-popper" online videos:

Imagine, if you will, the private bedroom of "Bubbles," leader of the Catalina Diving Clowder (my own Hanna-Barbera-inspired group of female feline divers fond of the dive experience off Santa Catalina Island, and sharing such among others), reserved in particular for special guests of the Clowder (Top Cat especially during his clowder's excursions to The Magic Isle) ... whose lighting and visual effects are such as to create a feeling of wonder and fascination for the underwater experience.

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒

# with trafalgar water d. law.

it was said that those trapped inside his sphere were then nothing but a helpless patient on his operating table. law made sure you, too, would experience it.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day three. medical play. glove kink. smut (mdni)! fingering (reader!receiving). freaky law. use of devil-fruit. double penetration. afab!reader.

WC: 2.5k

it was an agreement that the captain of a crew was the most valuable asset. law had matured into such a position with natural ease — powerful and intelligent; responsible and menacing — yet, his most arduous and important role relied neither on his battle skills nor on his plans. law was crucial to the lives of crew due to his extensive anatomical knowledge and the devil-fruit whose power could heal whatever ill. he was reliable, organized, logical. shame had no place within the walls of the infirmary, for law cared not for the cause of the disease or the placement of a pimple — instead, he all but strived to get rid of it.

the gratefulness and cheerful compliments thereafter were fuel to his ego, the confirmation that he had fulfilled his duties as a captain. law drew pleasure from the fact that he was one to execute a role unique amidst his crew. he had taught them concepts of medicine and surgery — to have a set of aiding hands, at least — but none of those with whom he shared the submarine were fit to nurse themselves to health. that diligent performance, more often than not, brought him a greater sense of power than the one granted by victorious battles.

it was an achievement; a task; his father’s legacy. law treated his patients with utmost professionalism, the character of their shared dynamic long forgotten if one had to be examined. it was a neutral space; undiscriminating. his ethics were thorough, his examination was immaculate. the mere thought of law losing focus during such instances was inconceivable. that was, of course, until you were the subject whose back pressed against the examination table.

the prelude itself had been virtuous. your limbs were sore during the aftermath of an arduous battle, minuscules cuts adorning your skin due to the offensive character of your opponent. law had insisted on treating you, regardless of how minor were the gashes. the memories were a vivid talon that had claimed his mind: your knee pressed against your chest as he stretched your muscles; the perspective from being atop your figure; your mellow breaths of relief whenever his fingers succeeded in undoing a tense knot. law had grown hot, then, forced to hasteness for the sudden tightness of his pants would be sure to denounce the perverted thoughts.

the second time was one of prolonged misery. a mosquito bite from a foreign island had left you bedridden; feverish. a frailer state of mind and manners, hazed by the consequences of a higher temperature. from soothing massages to the press of ice-cold thermal bags — your comfort became his most favored goal. the pain, however, proved to be overbearing, and the product of such given relieves came in the form of multiple moans. a press of his hand had you sighing; the cool, metal touch of his stethoscope against your burning skin made you beg for longer contact. whenever law dared to place a damp towel above your forehead, you’d lean into his touch and plead for him to stay.

yet, the occurrence that snapped the strained thread of his mind had been during a routine checkup. your mouth was open wide; law had a thin, small, wooden-stick on your tongue, striving to check on the health of your throat. he teased your gag-reflex, a gloved thumb pressed against your lower lip. law had lost his senses at the sight of your tears, the wild rise-and-fall of your chest, a context much too similar to that of a blowjob. the examination was cut short, and law had spent an entire hour in the shower right thereafter, fisting his cock; chasing a fleeting orgasm that had refused him, for your touch was its demand.

the infirmary shifted into a somewhat sinful ambience. the metal table was but a surface on which you could be ravaged. the stethoscope an instrument he could use to listen to the pace of your heartbeat, its increase gradual to his thrusts on your pussy. and the gloves. rubber moistened with your cum and spit; the act of stretching it near you, for it would then strike at the growing-sensible flesh. law wanted to witness the middle in which pain and pleasure converged — and you had been the chosen subject.

fleeting touches; warm breath hovering above your earlobe; the caress of your leg, under the table, with the point of his shoe. the guaranteeing of your restlessness coated in faux aloofness. when the teasing, at last, conquered its desired effect, law had the infirmary far more than prepared to receive your storm. his nape had burned under your gaze throughout the later hours of the afternoon, and when law stepped inside the maddening room, he was well-aware that you would be soon to follow.

he hid amidst the shadows, reveling in your confused-etched expression as you walked through the infirmary’s door. when you reached the center, law locked it, the force of its shutting enough to produce a loud, startling noise; echoing through the metal hallways of the submarine. you jumped, glancing at his frame placed by the door. law’s eyes drowned in the sight of you, thoughts swirling to the fantasies whose realization was of absurd importance.

“is something wrong, captain?” you inquired, arms crossed.

law’s steps were slow; calculated. he approached you as though a leopard surrounding its prey. you grew wary, retreating without forethought until your hip-bone collided with the examination table.

“how are you feeling tonight?” law grinned at the sight of your confusion, the increasing nervousness all but exciting him further.

the sound of his palms slamming on metal had you shrieking, yet law did not seem apologetic. he all but devoured your trapped figure, cursing the chaste knitting of the jumpsuit — though the sight of his crew’s symbol above your chest sent him a jolt of uncontrollable possessiveness.

“i’m fine,” you stuttered, clearing your throat and clinging to the fabric of your garment. “better than ever.”

“is that so?” law mused, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. his fingers were but a hook on your chin; curled and unyielding. “you’re a bit pale, wouldn’t you agree?”

“captain, i don’t—”

“doctor,” he corrected through rough intonation, forcing the angle of your face to match his own.

“doctor,” you echoed. while the grunt of lust at the sound had been contained, the same could not be said about his member — a gradual erection, borderline painful.

he sighed in faux disappointment, allowing his hand to wander; to hover above your chest. “you leave me no choice but to examine you.”

you were left out of words, mouth agape as your mind struggled to wrap itself around that turn of events.

“sit. you know the drill,” he commanded, and once you had done as such, law turned on his back, striding towards the locked drawer whose contents were the ones adjusted to fulfill the standards of what he meant on doing. his movements were languid, patient. at the absence of sound on your part, law tsked, angling his head so as to glare at you. “strip.”

your spontaneous gasp of bewilderment had a smirk etching on his face. “captain, i— what?”

“doctor. and i don’t plan on repeating myself,” he scolded, fishing the stethoscope from its previous spot. “i taught you the proper way to listen to one’s heartbeat. forgot it already?”

“oh,” you breathed out sheepishly, tugging down the zipper of your jumpsuit. law at last understood the root of your hesitation, for you wore nothing but a bra underneath. his mouth dried up, and he dared not readjust his gaze. “i thought, well, nothing. it was silly.”

“no, please, enlighten me,” he requested, positioning the stethoscope around his neck.

the growth of tension escaped past your pores as though a leaking faucet. “just, with the touches and the glances, i figured you were in search of another thing entirely.”

“and what would that be?”

your movements ceased midway, the upper half of the jumpsuit a dangling fabric at your sides. you hid your face from his glance, though his focus remained on the inviting sight of your cleavage.

“you know—”

“i do not,” law detached his figure from its previous support spot on the table’s edge, languid steps guiding him to you. “and a decent patient does not keep secrets from their doctor.”

you were caged, forced to lean back as law angled himself forward. the sudden exchange of energy, due to the temperature divergence between your spine and the metal, made you hiss. your back arched out of instinct; your chest pressed against his own as a consequence. mere inches separated his face from yours, his breath fluttering your eyelashes. your pupils dilated when law tossed his blue coat aside, the half-unbuttoned shirt he wore doing nothing to shelter his bare abdomen and chest from your lustful eyes.

you gulped; wild rise-and-fall of chest. “sex.”

he hummed, putting on the stethoscope’s ear pieces. its chest piece teased the warmth of your skin, movements too erratic to catch the proper pace of your heartbeat. “i can’t hear you, say it louder.”

you were aghast, stuttering as he smirked with malice. sentences sounded muffled; chaotic breathing hindering the performance of the tool. law placed the stethoscope aside, feigning dissatisfaction.

“it seems i’ll have to scan it closer on,” he stated, a twist of his wrist enough to teleport your heart to the palm of his hand.

it was a beating wonder; a rampant pace. the source of your life secured in between his teasing fingers. clutching it would have you howling in pain, stabbing it would reap your soul; an unfathomable, despising, thought. when it came to the negative consequences to a severe act of violence committed to one’s heart, law was well-versed. the soothing touches, however, were unprecedented territory — for now.

law drew your heart closer to his mouth, ever-so-tender. he blew a careful gust of air over the delicate flesh, and the kiss thereafter tore a devastating moan from your lips. droplets of sweat bubbled from your pores; your pupils buried the tone of your irises; your limbs all but trembled. law failed to contain a groan, losing balance at the blood flowing through his aching cock. he was desperate to witness that reaction yet again.

“take it all off,” he instructed, voice coming out strained due to the effort to keep himself from crumbling.

he laid your entire body on the examination table, struggling to ignore your whimpers as the fabric slid down your legs. law sliced the rubber gloves, discarding the pieces meant for the palms.

“room,” law detached his fingers, guiding them to the glove holes; covering them in rubber. he returned to you, breath catching at the sight of your body, bare and trembling, a marvel bestowed upon him. “the doctor will see you now.”

“please, doctor,” you mewled. “heal me.”

without further ado, granted the privilege of his devil-fruit, law guided his floating fingers to your cunt. a gloved thumb teased your clit through circular movements, two fingers parting your folds. he was aghast at the amount of lubrification caused by the mere press of his lips on your heart. law shoved his middle-finger into your cunt, coating the rubber with your essence. a loud whimper had his cock aching, and law grew worried, much too selfish to share your sounds with the external environment.

“silent,” he rasped, latching his lips to your heart, leaving a trail of kisses on the flesh. your back arched, a muted moan tearing through your throat.

he witnessed the squirming of your body; the violent trembling of your legs. his ring finger accompanied his middle one, scissoring your cunt as his thumb maintained a stable eight-pattern on your clit. law’s warm tongue teased your heart, and the shout of pleasure whose sound the barrier had silenced was his latest straw. law undid it, shoving his index and minor finger into your mouth.

“suck it,” law commanded, having your spit coat the rubber. his mouth dried, a wet patch visible on the fabric of his pants.

the swirling of your tongue around his fingers had his cock twitching, yet law had no hands available to unbutton the belt. he clicked his tongue, and the fingers inside your holes had switched, activating his devil-fruit regardless of the detachment.

“shambles,” his pants and underwear teleported to a meaningless spot.

law detached his cock and removed the pair of fingers from your cunt, for the particular warmth and wetness were meant to be claimed by his cum.

“doctor,” you babbled, voice muffled by his fingers, tears rolling down your cheeks as he applied pressure to the entrance of your ass. “it’s too—ngh much.”

“you’re still sick,” he cooed, teasing your folds with the tip of his member. “and i must treat it. can we proceed with it?”

you nodded, gagging when he shoved his fingers deeper — unrestrained by the confines of his tendons.

“speak,” he insisted, neglecting your inability to produce proper words.

“yes,” you cried out, sending vibrations through his fingers.

“yes what?” law snapped, teasing your entrance with the tip of his middle-finger.

“yes, doctor,” you coaxed in sheer desperation, trembling with need.

law hummed with satisfaction, careful during the insertion on your butthole. the rubber had enough of your essence to serve as a form of lubricant, yet he wished not for you to feel pain. his tongue licked strips on your heart, and your throat produced but an orchestra of boisterous moans, half its sound muffled. a never-ending pace of kisses to your wildly beating heart served as decent distraction, and when law slid his middle and ring fingers into your ass, you barely ever felt it.

your high was a powerful force, drowning his floating cock in your cum. law trembled, rutting his hips out of instinct, the movement itself useless as his member was no longer attached to his body. law marveled at the sight of you, covered in sweat and spit; squirting all over the examination table. he was drawn closer as though a senseless sailor to a siren’s aria, lost in your contorting features, the pleasure written all over.

your eyes met his, wet with past tears. “can i treat you, still?”

law feared that he had crossed a line, far gone in his bliss to remind himself that, although there were no limits to what he was willing to give you, the same could not be said about how much you were capable of receiving.

yet, after a minute, your breathing stabilized and your cheeks briefly hollowed, tongue swirling around his fingers. he removed them, if only to facilitate your speaking.

your voice was meek; hoarse. “treat me ‘til the end, doctor.”

he groaned when your lips parted, head weakly moving to accommodate his fingers. law’s member started to stretch you out, making itself at home within the walls of your cunt. you trembled, sensitive, and law moaned as his cock was coated with the essence from the previous squirting. he paid attention to your expression, fingers scissoring inside your butthole as he matched the pace with that established by his cock.

law caressed your heart, busying his mouth with the press of soothing kisses on your face. he shoved his cock past what was humanly possible, brushing the tip on your cervix; returning it to your entrance and ramming it inside yet again. your moans were the most entrancing melody he had heard, and law caught himself comfortable enough to produce similar sounds.

you tightened around both his fingers and cock; cunt and ass giving in to the overbearing tides of pleasure. your voice failed you, and law had his fingers removed from your mouth in order to listen to the sound of your bliss without restraints. the veins of his members twitched; he felt the knot close to its undoing. yet, it was the bulge of his tip visible through your stomach that had his vision covered in dark spots.

his grip left your heart — out of safety — as his orgasm washed over him, converging with your cum. he rode his high, careful as to observe your face and retrieve once the stimulation became too much. you were left limp on the table, a brief vocal command of his devil-fruit returning the detached limbs to his body. he threw the damp gloves on the trash can, and helped you sit, holding your heart in order to return it to your chest.

when you kissed it — shuddering at your own touch — and observed him through your eyelashes, law, however, became more than willing to ruin the infirmary further.

— 🐈‍⬛ : dear lord this was nasty. i love kinktober.

[edennill-archived]

Hobbit music genres:

Cautionary Tale About How Listening to Wizards Will Get You Eaten by A Dragon (But With a Happy Ending Because We Aren't Barbarians)

That Time the Major Ended Up Looking Ridiculous

My Uncle Grew The Biggest Cabbage Ever

Making Fun of Lotho Pimple

Something That Might Have Been a First Age Legend But Went Through Several Fairytales and Is Now Unrecognisable

Something That Might Have Been a Newer Legend and Is (Only) Somewhat More Recognisable

My Grandma Lost Her Prized Saucer

I Am Not a Poet But the Lass I Love Is Pretty

I Like Spring and Flowers

Fireworks!

We Are Tooks and Gandalf Is Actually Fun

Tooks Are Weird

Bucklanders Are Also Weird And Breelanders Are Weirder

Cautionary Tale Why Boats Are Dangerous

Islands Are Dangerous Too (We Heard One Drowned But We Thankfully Don't Know Any Details So We Made Up a Story About Giant Turtles)

There Might Have Been an Elf in the Wood and We're Not Sure How We Feel About That

Gondor music genres:

My Love Got Killed While He Was in The Army

Let's Lament Lost Numenor

Rousing Patriotic Song

We Still Love The Tale of Beren and Luthien

There Once Was a Mortal Man Who Killed A Dragon and We're Very Proud of This (The Rest of the Story Is Horrible and We Don't Want To Remember It)

Origin Story for the Mysterious Singer By the Sea (Accuracy Level: 2/10 But At Least We Correctly Guessed It's an Elf)

Ithilien Is Occupied By Mordor and This Is Sad

We Will Show Sauron Not To Mess With Us

Drinking Song With Way Too Nice a Melody (A Wandering Minstrel Made It Up and He Might Have Been an Elf)

The King Will Return. One Day.

[ashthesalamipiece]

Hello could I request one of overprotective dad Bakugo and reader where they have a daughter (either middle or high school) and she tells them she has a crush for the first time and Bakugo loses it and crashes out? I think it would be hilarious of him realizing his little girl isn't so little anymore and she's thinking about these things now. Thanks!

“Who the Hell Is This Kid?!”

It was a peaceful Saturday afternoon.

Too peaceful, in Bakugo’s opinion.

The house was quiet—too quiet. No explosions, no yelling, no suspicious “don’t tell Dad” whispers between you and your daughter. That usually meant something was up. And Bakugo didn’t like "up."

You were in the kitchen, humming as you sliced apples. Your daughter sat at the island, chin resting in her palm, her eyes faraway and dreamy.

Red flag number one.

"What's with the face, Princess?" Bakugo asked, raising an eyebrow as he popped open a soda. "You look like you're gonna float off into the damn clouds."

Your daughter blinked, looked at you, then at her dad.

And she smiled.

RED. FLAG. NUMBER. TWO.

"I… think I have a crush," she said, twirling her hair around her finger.

You choked on your apple slice. Bakugo stopped mid-sip. The soda can hissed in protest as his grip crushed it like a stress ball.

"YOU WHAT?!"

"Ka—Katsuki," you coughed, trying to get him to breathe. "She’s in high school, it’s normal—"

"WHO IS HE?" he boomed, voice already rising like a missile about to launch. “I’LL KILL HIM.”

"OH MY GOD, DAD!"

"YOU CAN'T JUST LIKE SOMEONE! What do you mean you like someone? Like… like like? What the hell kind of punk is this?"

Your daughter groaned and hid her face in her hands. "I knew this would happen..."

"Does he have a quirk? Is it stupid? It better not be stupid. I swear if it's some loser kid who makes origami with his eyelashes or something—"

"You're being ridiculous," you said through laughter, trying to hold him back before he stormed out to the school with a flamethrower and a dad-sized 'No Dating My Daughter' banner.

"I TAUGHT HER COMBAT! NOT FLIRTING!" Bakugo was pacing now. “I was supposed to be her hero forever—what the hell do you mean she’s thinking about boys?!”

“She’s growing up, Katsuki.”

“WELL TELL HER TO STOP!”

You gave him a knowing smile as your daughter snorted from behind her hands, cheeks pink. “It’s just a crush, Dad. I didn’t say I was gonna marry him.”

“Oh good,” Bakugo muttered. “Because I wasn’t gonna let that happen until you’re at least thirty.”

He stared at her for a moment longer. His little girl. His baby. Now giggling like a lovesick idiot over some pimple-faced high schooler with a hormonal quirk and probably no respect for authority.

Lord have mercy.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You’ll survive this. Probably.”

“Not if I see him first,” Bakugo grumbled.

And that was the day you had to physically sit on your husband to stop him from sneaking into the school disguised as a janitor just to "scope out the competition."

Fatherhood was hard. Especially when your daughter was perfect and the rest of the world? Not nearly good enough.

---

[via-l0ve]

Dating Carlisle Cullen HCs!

a/n: was the requested? absolutely not. am i a slut for daddy cullen? abso-fuckin-lutley

warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, im lowkey an edward hater in this i’m sorry, smut is fem!reader based!! dating daddy carlisle

- when you guys hang out at night /alone he’s all over you

- he holds you, lays on your chest, plays with your hair while you sit inbetween his legs SHSSUWHEISN

- he plays with your fingers while you guys are around other people and he gets a little nervous

- like if your hanging out with friends he’ll play with your fingers and hands, twist around your bracelets and rings

- i love him he’s so soft

- he desperately tries to stop you from popping pimples and blackheads

- “y/n sTOP”

- sometimes you’ll laugh at stuff he says bc it sounds so old fashioned

- he attempts to make you food and most of the time it’s amazing but usually when you two cook it almost always ends up burnt or undercooked or missing an ingredient

- bc he gets distracted by your stupid jokes that sometimes result in a food fight

- carlisle would do anything for you

- literally one time you brought up wanting to go to disneyland because they do a mardi gras parade and he almost bought plane tickets right then and there

- “what’re you doing?”

- “buying plane tickets.”

- “what??? STOP-“

- he loves how you hate when he spends money on you

- it makes him want to do it more

- you both have multiple matching things

- bracelets, rings, necklaces, etc

- he bought you this EXPENSIVE bracelet once and you almost passed out on the spot

- it has your and carlisle’s initials engraved into it and it’s your favorite color

- he lets you paint his nails frequently

- he loves when you do little designs on them too

- he loves being the person you feel comfortable ranting to

- it breaks his heart when he opens his door and sees you with puffy eyes and a red nose, tears reminiscent on your face

- he lets you in and picks you up, speeding you to his bedroom

- he grabs you a big t-shirt and a pair of his boxers and tells you to shower or change before talking about it

- and then after that he does whatever you want

- sometimes he’ll comb your hair while you rant to him, or make you some tea on the kitchen island while you talk to him about what happened

- he’d totally sit you on the counter and cut up + feed you fruit and clean the juice from your chin. im sobbing

- 100% takes care of your stuffed animals

- he would love how you bond with his “kids”

- you and emmett would totally play horror games together

- emmett and you are this clip:

https://youtube.com/clip/UgkxJdszrIKDCtmfnyVLdhVwf2sGqLcJ6NBU

- honestly either of you could be rhett/link and it would still make sense

- you lowkey make fun of edward ngl

- i feel like he plays games with you and emmett too and he sucks ass

- carlisle looses his shit when he hears you make a gooddamn good roast of him and you can hear him laughing from upstairs

- alice constantly tries to buy you clothes she thinks not only you, but also carlisle would like

- Rosalie would confide in you a lot

- tbh it took her a hot minute to warm up to you but when she saw how happy carlisle was with you she gave you a chance

- jasper loves you tbh

- he games w/ u and emmett and you guys kick ass in rocket league

- sometimes Carlisle will just stare at you for no reason

- you’ll catch him and he won’t break eye contact and you get all flustered and look away

- and proceed to look back to see him still staring

- “what’re you looking at?”

- “just you. :)”

- “okay but why”

- “youre beautiful.”

- “get a room!” ~ emmett

- reminds your to take ur medication

- after meeting your family, he’s always down to babysit with you or go to family reunions or vacations

- if it’s a sunny place he’ll just busy himself with work inside

- always liking ur instagram posts

- he always comments on them too

- just a simple “i love you” or “gorgeous🩷”

——— smut time

- respect and consent king

- wouldn’t dream of hurting you/degrading you ever

- he loves tits. sorry not sorry it’s true

- he’ll play w/ ur nipples and leave hickeys on ur boobs

- fucking looses it when you moan his name

- like, if you do that he’s giving you literally everything he has

- his fav position is missionary or when you ride him but you face him

- specifically if he’s sitting in his office chair and you get ontop of him and-

- makes your legs SHAKE

- he has his hands on your hips while you ride him bc that’s hot

- literally adores your body

- he couldn’t care less of your stomach pokes out or if you have love handles or stretch marks

- he loves you for you

- PRAISE

- this man loves to make you blush and he knows exactly how to do it in bed

- master at giving you head

- literally knows exactly what to do and how you like it done

- fucking dies when you ride his face

- like it’s not a thing that he wants he NEEDS it

- he pays attention to your body movements and how you react to certain things

- he’s the typa guy to get on his knees and eat you out

- tongue around ur clit and fingers inside you pumping in and out and moving around inside to touch your g-spot

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ one day ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) accidentally distracts Jack while he’s being interviewed in their home for a day in the life of a Devils player documentary that's being filmed, and Jack brings up the idea of a proposal

warning(s) : a quick mention of suggestive content but no actual sex

author’s note : i don’t understand how this plot came to be and tbh it's kinda stupid but i’m taking it and running with it

༺═──────────────═༻

Jack being one of NHL's most popular players has it's pros and cons. Today is one of those cons that they both hate. Jack is being followed around for the day to film a Devils documentary that follows players during their off days. Jack being one of the Devils' star players means he had to do the documentary.

That was before (Y/N) talked him into it. She didn't realize how intense it would all be. An entire film crew has set up in their living room with big cameras and lighting. They have made themselves very much at home after knocking on their door at the crack of dawn.

The two of them were having a really good morning in bed together when the film crew came knocking. Lots of naked cuddles and kisses were exchanged when a knock rang out through their apartment. It ruined both of their moods.

They stand in their kitchen and watch the crew finish setting up from the island counter. Jack is now dressed in a dark grey Devils hockey t-shirt with black sweatpants that have a Devils logo on the pant leg.

"Do you want me in this?" (Y/N) questions. Jack looks over at her with a confused look on his face. "I mean, we've been mostly quiet about our relationship so I completely understand if you don't want me to be apart of your episode of the documentary."

Jack shakes his head as soon as the words pass her lips. "No, I want you in this, (Y/N)," he tells her. "It's a documentary about a day in my life and you're a really big part of my life so of course I want you in this. Just let me do the interview really quick then we can act like it's a normal day."

The woman doing the interview is one of the Devils reporters, but (Y/N) can't remember her name at the moment. She sits opposite Jack in the comfy chair. The camera over her shoulder is pointed at Jack.

While Jack is being interviewed, (Y/N) goes to her room to get ready for their insane day ahead. She needs to put on some actual clothes too. All she's been wearing since she got out of bed is one of Jack's t-shirts and a pair of really small shorts. Not exactly what she wants to be wearing if she's going to be followed around for most of the day by people that work for the Devils.

She can hear some of the questions being asked while she's getting changed. They're the usual questions. Asking about how the season is going for him, how he's been recovering from that shoulder injury that kept him off the ice for a handful of games, and how it's been having his brother on the team with him. Sometimes Jack's sassy side comes out. He's never been the one to hide how he's feeling when answering questions.

To mess with Jack a little bit, and to kind of surprise him when he's done with the interview, (Y/N) grabs Jack's Devils hoodie that he wears to practice sometimes. His number sits on her chest and it's a little too big. She pairs the black hoodie with a pair of jeans that are ripped at the knee. She throws her hair up into a high ponytail and puts on light makeup just to cover any blemishes or pimples that'll pop out on camera.

When she leaves their bedroom, Jack is talking about how amazing it is to be considered one of the league's best players.

"It's always the goal to be one of the best in whatever sport you play," Jack is saying as she walks through the living room. "I, um, didn't think it would happen, uh, so early on in my, um, career." (Y/N) looks over and sees that Jack has his eyes on her. "Sorry. Got distracted." There's a smile on his face when he sees what she's wearing.

The reporter turns and looks at (Y/N). "I didn't know your girlfriend lived with you, Jack," she says as she turns back to him. (Y/N) smiles and starts to make some coffee.

"One of the best decisions I have ever made," Jack says from the living room. "Getting to fall asleep with her in my arms and waking up with her wrapped around me is an honor. We've been together for over two years now and it's been incredible. My parents and brothers all love her, but not nearly as much as I do."

(Y/N) smiles to herself as the coffee brews. Her back is to him at the moment so he can't see the smile.

The way Jack talks about her sometimes makes her fall in love with him a little more. She talks about him like that all the time to friends and family, but knowing he's saying all of this in front of a camera for a documentary makes what he'[s saying a little more special. He isn't holding back because he's on camera.

"That's so cute," the interviewer says. "Could we be expecting a Jack Hughes proposal soon?"

"We'll see what happens," Jack replies. That causes her to spin around immediately and look at Jack. The smile that was on his face is still there as their eyes meet from two different rooms. Her smile grows bigger.

They've never talked about marriage. Both of them are very happy with where they are at in their relationship so they both not rushing to walk down the aisle. Plus, they're 21 and 22 respectively so they're still really young. They don't have to get married right now.

The interview goes by without another mention of marriage, or (Y/N). She's okay with that because this is about Jack and his accomplishments as NHL's rising star. He's come a long way since his rookie year.

(Y/N) was around that year but they weren't together. They were close friends at that point so she saw every day how Jack struggled his rookie year. He struggled with hockey and he struggled with what people were saying about him online. Calling him a NHL bust despite being drafted first overall.

They grew closer that year and it was during his sophomore season when they got together. She's been super supportive of him since he got drafted, but especially after his rookie year.

Jack quickly excuses himself before he gets mic'd up for the rest of the day. She's pouring coffee into two mugs for both of them when Jack comes up behind her and wraps his arms around his girlfriend.

"I know we never talked about it but-"

"Yes, I'd like to get married to you one day, Jack," (Y/N) interrupts as she turns in his arms. He presses her against the counter with one hand and takes his hot coffee in his other. "We don't have to rush into anything though. I'm happy with where we are and you're still trying to prove yourself in the NHL."

"So one day?" he asks.

She leans forward and kisses him softly and quickly. "One day."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Christmas in paradise

Summary: After a PR nightmare Clara "kidnaps" her client and best friend Dieter Bravo to a private luxury island to spend six weeks away from all the glitz and glam of Hollywood. Spending so much time together one on one might finally lead to confessions that will make them more than just friends...

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC named Clara

Wordcount: 10.8k

Rating: E

Warnings: friends to lovers, Dieter being involved in a PR Nightmare, humour, fluff, cooking, getting sober, feelings, kissing, skinny dipping, smut (protected sex, oral sex), happy end

A/N: With all those pics of Pedro on vacation coming out you would think I started writing this fic in the last couple days when actually, I started this fic in November 2023. This is my longest one shot yet, and I hope it does not disappoint!

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Full Masterlist // Dieter Bravo Masterlist

Clara’s days start early.

They always did. 

Her alarm woke her at 6 am (on good days), she got out of bed, took a shower and drank her first cup of coffee. Had breakfast on her way to the office where she drank her second cup. 

Then after 8-12 hours (sometimes 15 hour days) in her office dealing with her clients she made her way back home, getting take out on her way back. Where she would eat and then fall asleep in front of her TV.

Those were good days. Days Clara preferred. Sometimes she even got free days for herself where she could go and meet her friends (the few she still had) or get a massage at her favourite spa.

She once met Kate Walsh while in the spa and while Clara dealt with celebrities on the daily, thanks to the girlcrush she had on Kate she couldn’t even form a sentence to introduce herself. 

Good days were there. Occasionally. 

But… there were clients who made her life a little more… complicated. Which honestly was the part of her job she enjoyed up to a certain degree. 

That was what PR was for. Dealing with the outside perspective and well… scandals. 

She was married to her job which was why her actual husband, David, felt the need to search for someone who could…. Fulfil his needs more than Clara could. 

The divorce had been unpleasant. 

David and her had been highschool sweethearts, which meant there was no prenup. David had big plans back in college, wanting to open up his own law firm, and become a big name. And even though he was a law student the last thing both thought about at the age of 20 was signing a prenup. 

15 years later Clara came to regret that decision. While David was a more or less successful lawyer, her career had gone through the roof with her own PR Firm and office on the upper west side in New York and in downtown Los Angeles. 

David might have been the one who cheated on her and ended the marriage, but he made sure to take half of everything she owned with him when he left. And the worst part of it was, she didn’t even care. 

Instead on the evening after they had finalised their divorce she went out to dinner with a client of hers. 

Well… he was more like a best friend, yet definitely a client. Probably the most exhausting client she had, but one of her closest friends at the same time. 

Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Clara have known each other their whole life. 

They lived on the same street growing up.

They went to the same school 

They both moved to New York at the same time. 

But they only really got to know each other when Dieter was fired from his first manager after he was caught with well… his managers wife in the restroom of a restaurant. 

It was actually Clara’s mother who had called her and given her Dieter’s number. 

Clara signed Dieter as a client and he became like a…. Pimple that wouldn’t go away. In a very nice way. If pimples could be nice.

It was him who was there for her after the divorce. 

Sighing she rolled her head as she sat at her desk, her sixth coffee of the day cold in the mug that said “I’d rather be with Dieter Bravo” that he gifted her a couple years back as a Christmas gift. 

There was a knock on the door and she looked up, her assistant slowly stepping in with a sorry expression, a big bouquet of Peonies in her arms. 

Clara groaned loudly as her assistant set down the flowers in front of her. 

“When did they get delivered?” Clara asked.

“About fifteen minutes ago,” she said. Clara already felt the nerves fluttering in her belly. She never got flowers. The only person who sent flowers was Dieter when he fucked up. 

“Did… Is there any news out yet on what he’s done now?” Clara asked. Her assistant shook her head. 

“But this is… a big bouquet. Bigger than the last time and…”

“It’s my favourite flowers,” Clara sighed, glancing at the clock. 

It was after 5pm already. 

“He sent me flowers too,” her assistant said and Clara blinked at her, slowly. 

“And there’s also lemon sponge cake from the Magnolia Bakery outside….”

Clara took a deep breath, before she reached for her phone. 

“What did he do now?” Clara asked herself with a sigh. 

“I’m going to check all sources and stay in late,” her Assistant said. Clara smiled at her as she looked up. 

“Thank you. Order Pizza too. Whatever he had done now might end up with a night shift. You don’t have to stay though, you know that right?” Clara asked. 

“I know. But my girlfriend is out of town so… nothing else I have planned for tonight anyway.”

“You deserve a raise,” Clara winked.

“Wouldn’t say no to that. You want me to bring the cake in?”

“Let me call him first. Maybe I’ll need the cake to throw it at him when he gets here.”

Clara’s assistant laughed before she left her alone, her phone in her hand. 

Clara unlocked her phone, opening the contacts to search for Dieter’s name, her thump hovering over his name. 

He hadn’t called yet. 

Usually he would have at least tried to call her by now.

Taking a deep breath she pressed the dial button, bringing her phone up to her ear. 

Dieter was in panic mode.

And for Dieter to hit panic mode, he must have really fucked up. 

But this? This was not even entirely his fault? It happened at his house though which was more than enough. 

It also happened while he was in his house.

At his party. 

With way too many people around he didn’t even know. 

But the line of coke (or two) and some champagne made Dieter forget about how shitty he felt. 

It was high Dieter who fucked up. High Dieter did not think about sober Dieter having to deal with his shit.

Well, high and horny Dieter. Which was…. Daily Dieter. But coke high Dieter was different from weed high Dieter. 

And he was always horny really.

Anyways…

The news broke twenty minutes after he had gotten off the phone with Clara. 

“Senator O’Conelly overdosed at Dieter Bravo’s house party”

Which was something Clara could have handled. But then three hours later came:

“Exclusive: Senator O’Conelly’s wife was having sex with Dieter Bravo while the Senator overdosed”

Which…. Was harder to handle, but Clara was the best at her job, so she had a response prepared.

But then came:

“Leaked: Dieter Bravo’s Sextape”

Which wasn’t a first. It was just the first time he did not know he’d been filmed. Mostly because he was so high, he did not care. 

And this time it was in HD which made “Dieter Bravo Penis” the most googled topic for four days straight.

The senator had fucked Dieter so hard just before he overdosed, he still had bruises from his grip on his waist. Him fucking the senators very willing wife while said Senator overdosed was not Dieter’s fault though. 

And while his PR team tried to handle it, there was only so much they could do once the Senator’s wife gave a very tearful interview making Dieter the one who was responsible for putting the Senator in a coma. 

She conveniently left out how she had sniffed a line of coke herself while he was getting fucked by her husband. 

The only reason the news hadn’t broken earlier was because the Senator’s PR wanted to keep this under wraps but failed because someone on the party had taken photos. And that video.

Fucking Gen Z. Or… whatever. 

While there had been scandals around Dieter in the past, and a lot of them, the shit storm this one turned out to be, seemed not to end that soon. 

Of course the Senators PR Team pinned the whole story with him as the boogeyman. 

Dieter had a reputation so it wasn’t that hard. 

What was hard was him being forced to drop out of the HBO series he had signed because of the backlash. Or losing the Deal with Kit Kat. 

God the Kit Kat deal. He would be missing the weekly care packages. 

But the hardest was the disappointed look in Clara’s eyes whenever they face-timed. 

He could deal with almost everything, but Clara being disappointed? He couldn’t even explain why it was hitting him so hard, the one worded answers from her and the obviously acted smile she threw his way. 

Clara had become what he would call best friend. If he had friends.

She’s been with him through thick and thin (okay mostly because it was her job to fix his shit) but somewhere along the way the phone calls became more private than professional. He made sure to always have her favourite tea stocked at home for whenever she was in town and… something just wasn’t right when he wouldn’t hear from her every day. 

He’d taken a whole month off once she told him about her divorce and practically moved in with her. 

It was the last time he had been mostly clean. 

Apart from alcohol and weed, but that did not count anyway did it?

“We’re here Mister Bravo,” Dieter looked up at the driver, nodding once at him. 

Dieter had no idea where he would be going. He only got Clara’s message that a car would pick him up at 4:30 am and that she already instructed his PA to pack his suitcases. 

Maybe she was planning to kill him and frankly, he wouldn’t even blame her. What were the suitcases for then though?

Dieter got out of the car, finding himself already on the airfield of the small airport, the car close to a private jet. He saw two younger men carry his suitcases out of the car and put them into the trunk of the plane. 

Dieter looked up into the dark sky, taking a deep breath before he made his way towards the stairs leading into the plane. 

A grin sneaked to his face when he saw Clara sitting already cozied up into a deep blue blanket, her dark hair in a bun on top of her head. Her head turned towards him as she heard footsteps and she sighed exhausted, yet could not fight the smile. 

“One day you are going to be the death of me, Dieter Bravo,” she shook her head and got up to her feet, Dieter meeting her halfway to hug her close and kiss her cheek. She wanted to let go, but he kept his arms around her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and Clara squeezed him. 

“I know you are,” she whispered, kissing his cheek.

„You gonna throw me out of the plane over the ocean?“ He teased and she rolled her eyes. 

„Don’t give me any ideas,“ she scoffed. 

They both settled into their seats, taking their shoes off as the crew got through the routine of getting ready to take off. 

“So where are you kidnapping me to?” Dieter asked, pulling his glasses off. Clara looked at him. 

“You’re paying for this, so I don’t know if that counts as kidnapping.”

“True.”

“You have to get off the radar of the tabloids. And while I know I could just…. Make you stay at home or force you to another stay at a rehab clinic, I don't really trust you to just stay there by yourself. I know you too well,” she began. 

“So I booked you a 6 week stay on Gladden island. And I’ll be babysitting you.”

“On an island.”

“A tropical private island with 24 hour service.”

Dieter gave her a look. 

“Before you say anything, think about me having to put out a official statement about your penis. Again,” she raised her left eyebrow. 

“But it’s a nice looking penis,” he mumbled with a small pout and Clara groaned. 

“Okay, okay, okay. Six weeks. Private Island. Check.”

“No internet. No drugs. No hookers.”

Dieter pouted even more. 

“You know I’m a sex addict right?”

“Not diagnosed.”

“Dr. Google says otherwise.”

„Then I have a brain aneurysm since I’ve seen the video of you snorting coke of the cock of that senator,“ Clara grunted and Dieter winced.

„No sex, really?“ He whined. 

“I’m afraid it’s gonna be you and your hand from now on.”

“Would you want to have sex with…”

“Please do not finish that sentence. I have a vibrator that will take care of my physical needs and an iPad full of books for the rest, thank you very much.”

Dieter took a deep breath, closing his eyes to stop himself from picturing her with her vibrator, spread on a bed, working herself closer and closer…

“Dieter?”

He opened his eyes. 

“If you want to leave, you have to do it now. But if you walk out of his plane, I won’t be representing you anymore. I know I am getting paid for this but…. I can’t deal with scandals like this anymore.”

His heart squeezed in his chest at the look in her eyes. 

“I won’t leave. I think we both need some time apart from ourselves and our lives,” he said and she nodded before her eyes focused on her iPad. 

“Where exactly are we going?” Dieter asked. 

“Belize.”

Clara wasn't as exhausted as she thought she would be once they got to Belize. Dieter on the other hand looked like dead on heels. Or… Crocs.

His hair was unkempt, dark circles under his eyes after the 12 hour flight. 

The first thing he did was put on a cigarette, inhaling it like his lungs did not know how to work otherwise. 

Clara took off her sweater, revealing a pink top underneath. 

It was early afternoon in Belize and they weren’t even at their final destination yet. 

More than once she asked herself if spending so much time with Dieter without anyone else around would be a good idea. 

They were friends, of course. But they had never spent more than five days together and that was in a big city when they both could flee at any given point. 

Even in the time he had partially moved into her place they still got out to handle appointments or have dinner.

To flee the private island they’d have to wait for someone to pick them up by boat or helicopter. 

And then there was the drug problem. 

Frankly, Clara did not know how bad it was exactly. She was the last person to judge anyone and their life choices, but she was getting scared something would happen sooner or later to Dieter that would take him from her. 

Which was a strange way to think because he wasn’t hers in the first place. 

But he was a friend.

A good friend. 

Her… only good friend really and she wasn’t even sure if he knew her birthday. Then again he knew other things. 

Like her favourite flowers. And Pastries. And that she talked in her sleep. 

“I’m starving,” Dieter snapped her out of her internal whirlwind. She pulled her hand into her bag, searching for….

Dieter’s eyes lit up like a Christmas Tree at the big pack of Kit Kat’s she held up. 

“You know the way to my heart Clara honey bunny,” he grinned and she rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile. 

“You better share with me, Bravo,” she threw the package at him. 

“Nope,” he said and walked towards the car that was waiting for them already, their suitcases in the trunk .

This place was beautiful. 

The sun was setting when they got to the port, the sky in so many colours, she couldn’t wait to watch it everyday. 

Dieter was quiet beside her as he watched her watch the sunset. 

There was a soft smile on her lips, her eyes glistening. Maybe he could get some art supplies so he could paint her while they were on the island. 

She didn’t know that in a secluded corner of his studio at home there were some paintings of her that he painted, mostly after coming down from a high. When he felt lonely and vulnerable. 

He only had to think of her to feel a little lighter. A little more himself. 

Maybe this trip was the best idea she could have.

He needed some time away from all of… all of the people who called themselves his friends. 

When Dieter moved to LA almost 25 years ago he was young and full of hope and dreams. 

But the longer he stayed in LA and got into the industry and met more and more people, the more he changed.

Sometimes he wondered what 16 year old Dieter would think of the man he had become. 

Sure, he was a successful actor with an Oscar and some Emmy’s. Also a Golden Globe. And rumour had it the musical he just wrapped filming was on the road to get him another Golden Globe and maybe a Tony too. If he did not get kicked out of the Academy.

But… he couldn’t remember the last time he was 100% sober and clean on a set. 

Or when the last time was he really had fun on a movie set. 

He was getting older and his doctor was getting more and more concerned with the way he treated his body. 

But… it was easier to call his dealer and get some coke or LSD than to talk about his feelings to a therapist. 

It was easier to drink another glass of wine than tell his manager that no, he did not want to make another shitty cliff beasts movie. 

It was easier to get a groupie into his bed instead of finally acknowledging that he had been in love with someone for the last ten years without acting on it. 

Clara smiled at him as she turned her head, letting it fall against his shoulder. 

Dieter closed his eyes to just feel her so close. 

“I am going to be sleeping for the next 24 hours,” she mumbled and Dieter chuckled. 

“Think you can make it to bed or do I have to carry you from the boat to wherever you kidnapped me?” he teased. 

“Don’t want you to break your back, old man,” he could hear the smile in her voice and he dramatically rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll have you know I am working out now,” he said seriously. She looked up at him, suspicion in her eyes. 

“There better not be some kind of sex joke in there…”

“Hey, Cardio is very important. You should try it too,” Dieter grinned. She was about to answer him when someone called her name and she turned around.

“The boat is ready,” the man said. 

“How long until we get there?” she asked, pulling away from Dieter who definitely did not miss her warmth immediately. 

“About 40 minutes.”

Clara could see the island in the far distance. The last hues of sun had disappeared over the ocean some time ago and it was almost dark. 

Dieter was snoring next to her and she rolled her eyes to herself. 

There was a part of her that was scared of spending so much time with him. Not because they did not like each other. It was clearly the opposite. 

But…. frankly she did not know about how many drugs and things he consumed. She knew after Cliffbeasts he got more careful but apart from that? 

She had been with him at his Doctor’s appointment afterwards where the Doctor told him that he had been incredibly lucky and that he should take this near death experience as a wake up call. 

His heart was already suffering, even though only a little, but Dieter would turn 45 next year. 

And if he continued his life with the substances like this, there was a big chance he would not make it to 50. 

The thought of losing Dieter had put Clara in a state of fear and shock after. 

Yes, she was only his PR Manager. 

And a friend. 

Maybe a very good friend?

And maybe… maybe sometimes her feelings for him lingered on the verge to more but….

She had no right to tell him what to do. 

It was dark when they finally got to the island, leaving both Dieter and Clara so tired they just let them be shown their bedrooms only to fall asleep quickly after a refreshing shower. 

But while Clara stayed asleep throughout the night, Dieter woke up three hours later, unable to fall asleep again. 

So he put his boxer shorts on (remembering in the last moment that he wasn’t alone and Clara would probably appreciate not seeing his penis again so quickly, even though he kinda wished she would) and explored the villa. 

It was luxurious to say the least. 

He opened the extra large fridge in the kitchen, finding it stocked with all his favourites and some of Clara’s too. 

Where the fuck did she find this place?

His mind wouldn’t shut up so he focused on making something to eat. 

It was how Clara found him almost 4 hours later. The kitchen was in absolute chaos while Dieter had fallen asleep sitting at the kitchen island. Confusion replaced by amusement came to her as she watched the various dishes (or attempts) sitting on the counter. There was a very tasty looking chocolate cake right next to Dieter, his fork still stuck in it. 

Then there were pancakes (sweet with chocolate chips and savoury with bacon), some breakfast muffins too. 

She grabbed one, biting into it, surprised that it actually tasted good, though she should have known. He always had loved to cook. 

She jumped when an alarm went off and Dieter snapped awake, almost falling off his chair. 

“You’re awake! Finally!” he smiled, kissing her on the cheek, while he walked to the stove. 

“How long have you been awake?” Clara asked.

“Dunno. Couldn’t sleep. Made breakfast instead,” he put on the pink mittens, carefully taking out whatever he made. 

“For the whole week?” she asked and he shrugged. 

“No drugs means I have other cravings. And you don’t want to have sex so….. I am making food.”

“Is that… Lasagna?” you asked. 

“After my mama’s recipe,” he nodded proudly, setting the casserole down. 

“It smells delicious,” her mouth watered. 

“Grab a fork and get into it,” Dieter grinned. 

“It’s 7 am.”

“And?” he looked at her with raised eyebrows. 

Clara chuckled before she grabbed a fork. 

The first day was spent being very lazy, fighting off jet-lag and eating lasagna all day. Dieter told Clara that he had explored the house and might move into the private theatre.

They spend the whole afternoon in the private theatre watching Harry Potter and eating chocolate cake. Clare feel asleep during the second move, her head resting on Dieter’s shoulder. 

And Dieter watched her instead of the movie until he fell asleep too. 

Only to wake up shivering. 

He was sweating, not knowing if he was hot or cold. 

„You okay?“ Clara asked tiredly and Dieter closed his eyes. 

He was fidgeting, nervous. Usually he would take something now. Something to calm him down. 

But he was on a island in the middle of fucking nowhere and hadn’t had anything in almost 48 hours. Dieter closed his eyes, trying to calm his fast beating heart. 

„Wait here,“ Clara said before she got up. 

She knew what this was. 

Before leaving for this trip she had sat down with specialist in drug rehab who tried to explain everything that could happen once his body realised that it would be not getting a new fix. 

Doing this without medical assistance could be scary, but she wanted to help Dieter through it. She wanted him to get better. 

So she got some medication that would help him through it from the doctors. Only through the first couple of days. A doctor would visit them tomorrow and then every other day until Dieter would not need it anymore. 

Clara knew this could be hard. There was a reason that there were rehab centres and clinics for recovering drug addicts. And with Dieter already being in his forties and taking drugs for the, she guessed, at least twenty years…. She just hopped she could help him through this. 

Because she did not want to wake up one day to the news of him passing away from drugs. 

And so she had planned everything. 

Quickly getting through her luggage she grabbed one of the pills and walked back. Dieter was focused on the movie when she sat down next to him, his head turning towards her, his eyes glassy. She could see his hair clinging to his forehead, most likely due to the cold sweat. 

„I know you are probably going to hate me for a bit for bringing you here, but I just want you to know that I love you. And I want you to get better,“ Clara said and Dieter sighed. 

„I’m a real mess huh?“ He asked and Clara found herself smiling, reaching over to brush over his cheek. 

„You just need a little help sometimes. We all do,“ Clara said, before she gave him the pill she had gotten. 

„According to the doctors I spoke to this should help you with the withdrawal symptoms,“ she said and Dieter nodded, not even questioning her as he reached for the pill and swallowed it down. 

„Maybe I should just sleep through the next few days. I never got through more than five days before I quiet rehab,“ he said, disappointed and anxious. 

„Well, you’re stuck here for the next six weeks. With me. Maybe getting away from everything is gonna be what’s good for you in the end,“ Clara smiled before she laid down again next to him. 

The following week was a long one. 

Clara could see how Dieter was in pain but he never lashed out at her. He slept through most of the day, the doctor who came to visit them helping with infusions of vitamins and everything he needed when he was there.

Clara had taken to sleeping next to Dieter in his bed, wanting to be close in case he needed something. Or in case he got worse. 

More than once she found herself in Dieter’s arms when she woke up in the morning, his breath hitting the back of her neck in warm puffs. 

She knew he was a cuddler, and she was touch starved as hell so enjoyed it whenever it happened. 

By day eight Dieter began to feel better. 

„I can’t believe we’re on a private island and I haven’t even been out to the beach,“ he mumbled into his pillow, some true crime documentary on the tv in his room. Clara had made them some toast and eggs for breakfast which they ate in bed. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this lazy and relaxed. 

„We could just… go outside?“ She suggested, her head tilting towards the open sliding door that opened directly to the pool, private beach and the ocean. 

Dieter followed her line of view, contemplating what getting out of bed and onto the beach would entail. 

He still felt like shit. But not as bad as it had been the day before. Or the day before that. He didn’t know why but somehow it seemed…. Easier this time around. Getting off drugs. Dieter slept through most of it all, the withdrawal symptoms only really hard in the first couple of days. By now he just felt exhausted and wanted to lay in bed all day.

In bed with Clara around who smelled so damn good all the time. 

Meanwhile he couldn’t remember when he even took his last shower. 

Frowning he narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember. 

„You’re thinking this hard about going outside?“ Clara teased and he shook his head. 

„Thinking about when was the last time I took a shower,“ he grunted, before he smelled under his arms, shuddering. 

„It’s been…. Some time….“ She helped, looking at the TV with sucked in lips. He groaned theatrically before he took a deep breath and got out of bed. Yeah, no. He could smell himself and not in a good way. 

„I’m gonna…“ he moved his head towards the bedroom and Clara nodded. 

„I’ll meet you out at the beach after,“ she said, watching him disappear into his en suite bathroom, the door slipping closed behind him. 

She took a deep breath, hoping that the worst was behind them before she got out of bed and began to strip down the sheets to wash them. 

Once the sheets were in the washing machine she went into her room to put on her bathing suit and cover up, grabbing the sun lotion. Dieter was already outside when she walked the short path down to the beach. His bathing shorts were hanging low and she allowed herself to take in the broadness of his back in as he stared out at the ocean. 

„We’ve had this view since we got here?“ He asked as he felt Clara next to him. She hummed and he looked down at her. She had her hair up in a messy bun, her face free of any make up that she usually wore whenever they saw each other. 

Dieter always thought that she was beautiful. 

Had been since he was a child. 

The prettiest princess of all he used to say. 

He used to think they would get married someday. But somewhere along the way he got the offer he always dreamed off and moved from New York to LA and their calls got less and less until they stopped. It had only been his own stupidity that brought Clara back into his life and while she was his PR Manager, she was so much more. 

He didn’t think there was anyone left in his life who would have just taken him out of this toxic environment he found himself in back home just to help him, so he could get better. 

She genuinely cared about him and he wanted to find out if maybe, just maybe she cared more about him than just as a friend. 

Because Dieter had been in love with Clara since he was probably six years old, even though he only realised it around 10 years ago..

„You gonna help me with the sun screen and I help you?“ Clara asked, holding the bottle out. Dieter nodded with a small smile before they walked over to one of the numerous beach chairs and she sat down in front of him. 

„You feeling better after that shower?“ She asked and Dieter opened the bottle. Clara took off her cover up and Dieter swallowed harshly at the amount of skin in front of him he was about to touch. 

„Like a new person. I think…. I think I’m over the worst part,“ he said, squeezing the bottle to bring some of the sunscreen into one of his palms, rubbing it between both hands. 

„I still think about taking drugs all the time though,“ he confessed before he slowly brought his hands down on her back, feeling her jump. 

„Sorry,“ he hummed, beginning to rub the sunscreen into her skin. 

„I already looked for NA places in LA and in New York,“ she said and he found himself smiling. 

„Of course you did. Always prepared,“ he said with a smile and she looked over her shoulder at him with a small smile. 

„That’s what I get paid for,“ she winked before she turned her head back towards the ocean. He stilled for a moment, before he continued to rub the sunscreen in. 

„Is that… Is that the only reason why we’re here? Because of your job?“ He asked, anxious for her answer. She turned around then, sitting in front of him. 

„No. If you were any other client I would have quit back when that video of you your ex wife arguing went viral,“ she said and he sighed, letting his head fall down, chin against his chest. He felt her hand over his and he looked up at her. 

„I care about you and your life Dieter. I just want you to genuinely be happy,“ she said. 

„I don’t know what makes me genuinely happy,“ he whispered, feeling like a scared child. 

Her smile softened. 

„Maybe you’ll use this time away from everything to find happiness, then,“ she winked, before she grabbed the bottle of sunscreen. 

„And now turn around so I can put lotion on your back,“ she sassed and he chuckled before he turned around. 

„It rubs the lotion on it’s skinnnn,“ he said with a squeaky voice, gasping when he felt the cold lotion drip directly on his skin. 

„Do not test me, Bravo,“ Clara warned but he could hear the smile In her voice. 

It was the day after that he found the atelier on the other side of the villa. Clara was in a call for work and he ventured out, exploring the villa. 

It was a beautiful place of earth she had found. 

Earlier today the doctor had come to visit him and he was glad to find out that he was doing better. The doctor also agreed to help with a surprise for Clara which he would bring with him on his next check up which would be in four days. 

Now he found himself staring out at the ocean as he sat in front of the beginnings of a painting he started, his favourite muse already staring back at him from the canvas. 

Clara’s words of him using this time to find out what makes him happy echoed in his ear as he looked at it. 

It was her. It was always her. 

And maybe he took all these drugs to get over the pain and the feelings of never being good enough for her. 

Because what did he have to offer her? 

He had money, he had a career, he had awards. 

But Clara didn’t care about all of that. She cared about Dieter the person and he had no idea who that was anymore. 

Sighing he got up, making sure to close the door behind him as he ventured towards the kitchen. He could hear Clara talk in the living room just around the corner and he decided to cook something for her. 

What most people didn’t know about Dieter was that he loved to cook. 

He took one look into the fridge and decided to make some carbonara, with fresh pasta of course. He hummed to himself as he searched through the kitchen cabinets for the pasta maker. He knew it was somewhere. He had made the lasagna on the first day from scratch after all. 

As he cut the pancetta, the rest already prepared, the water heating up for the pasta he heard footsteps, looking up to find Clara walk into the big kitchen. 

„Whatcha making?“ She asked with a tired smile, sitting down at one of the barstools at the kitchen island. 

„Carbonara,“ he smiled. 

He had a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, a white shirt beneath. She could see some paint on his shirt, her smile softening knowing he found the atelier she had set up for him in the house. 

He seemed… lighter. 

The far away look in his eyes was gone, replaced by brightness as he prepared their dinner. 

„Can I help?“ Clara asked and Dieter looked up at her with a warm smile and she felt butterflies in her belly. 

„I saw some garlic knots in the fridge. Maybe you can pop them in the oven?“ He asked. She nodded, getting up from her seat. She prepared the garlic knots, continuing to watch Dieter out of the corner of her eyes. He was roasting the pancetta, the kitchen filling with the smell of it. He walked past her, his hand resting on her hip as he reached for the cheese. 

Giving her a warm smile he got back to work. 

„Maybe you can teach me to cook while we’re here,“ Clara smiled and Dieter grinned. 

„Or I can just continue to cook for you. I like taking care of you,“ he said and Clara was glad her back was turned towards him, her face flushing. 

„And what about once we go home? I gotta go back to sad microwave dinners and take out?“ She asked as she sat back down on the kitchen island. 

„Or you gotta keep me around,“ he said with a wink and she smiled at him. 

„I don’t think my kitchen has been used for actual cooking since I bought the new apartment. It’s kinda lonely there to be honest,“ Clara sighed and Dieter looked up at her. 

„It’s the same with my place. It’s way too big to live there alone. Maybe we should move in together,“ he joked.

Clara’s lips twitched into a smile. 

„Oh yeah? You sure we wouldn’t kill each other within a week?“ She teased. 

„It’s been working just find here,“ he shrugged, his palms resting on the cool surface of the marble kitchen island, as he leaned towards her. 

„You have been asleep most of the time we’ve been here,“ she winked playfully. 

„So I’ll ask you again when we leave,“ he winked back and she chuckled. 

„Do that.“

„Where would we live?“ He asked later, food eaten and kitchen cleaned. Clara and him had made themselves a fruity cocktail before they walked outside, sitting down in the warm sand, listening to the ocean. The sun had almost set completely and with how far away they were from everything they could see the stars come out, more and more each minute. 

„Mhhhh…. Which one do you wanna hear? The realistic one or the one I would dream of?“ She asked, her head falling against his shoulder as she sat next to him. 

„The one you dream of,“ he said softly, his arm coming around her from behind, his hand resting in the sand next to her hip. 

„I always wanted to live close to the ocean. I’d love to be able to walk on to my little balcony of my very big bedroom and see and hear the ocean first thing in the morning. If we were to live together it would have to be somewhere far away from LA. Somewhere we you could relax and paint and where I could… find an actual hobby instead of working twenty hours a day. Maybe I could take cooking lessons. I like to cook, I am just terrible at it,“ she mused and Dieter smiled. 

„I’ll give you cooking lessons. I told you so,“ he mumbled. 

„But what when you have to work?“

„In this dream reality I don’t work. Honestly? Acting doesn’t make me as happy as it used to. So if we’re talking about dreams? I wouldn’t be an actor,“ he said and she looked up at him. 

„What would you do?“

He hummed, looking away from her and back towards the ocean. 

„Maybe I’d give art lessons to kids. We could set up a room in that dream house of yours for that, right?“ He teased and she agreed.

They continued to look out until the sun had fully set, the only light coming from the house behind them and from the stars above them. 

„Would you have someone live there with us? A boyfriend or husband?“ Dieter asked quietly after a while and looked down at her. She shook her head. 

„In my dream there is no one but you, Dieter,“ she whispered and Dieter felt his heart jump in his chest as one of her hands came to rest on his knee. 

„What about you?“ Clara asked and he took a deep breath, her head tilting up to look at him. Even though it was dark they were so close that she could see all of him. Instead of answering he, his head dipped lower, his nose brushing over hers. 

„I would really love to kiss you, Clara,“ he whispered and she shivered when she felt his breath brush over her skin. 

„Dream you or real you?“ She whispered back. 

„Both,“ he hummed and without any more words she closed the small distance between them, connecting their lips in a soft kiss.

It lasted only a few seconds but they both felt out of breath as they looked each other. 

„I’ve wanted to do that for years,“ he said and she sucked her bottom lip in as she sat herself up so she could get closer. 

„Why haven’t you?“ She asked.

„You were married and I was… am a mess,“ he shrugged with a awkward smile. 

„I can handle your mess,“ she winked and he grinned. 

„I know,“ he said before he leaned in again, kissing her with more eager now, his hands reaching for her, pulling her closer and Clara let him, climbing into his lap, her hands first on his shoulders then in his hair as they kissed, tongues playing with each other.

„I can’t believe I’m kissing you,“ he mumbled against her lips, making her giggle. 

„You imagined it before?“ She asked when they parted, her still in his lap, his arms around her. She had one of her hands in his hair, her other hand on his cheek. 

„Oh yeah. All the time. But I didn’t want to lose you as a friend, so I never made a move,“ he sighed.

„What changed?“ She asked, genuinely curious.

„I think I was getting tired of denying myself the one thing I always wanted,“ he said and her thumb brushed over his bottom lip. 

„Me?“ You whispered and he nodded, kissing her thumb.

„You make things… quiet. Like cocaine,“ he grinned and she rolled her eyes. 

„Do not compare me to the drug that almost killed you,“ she said with an eye roll. 

„Might get addicted to you,“ he mumbled, pulling her closer, kissing her jaw. 

„I think…. I could live with that,“ she whispered as she tilted her head down to kiss him again. 

When Clara woke up in the morning from that day on, it was in Dieter’s arms. 

And if Dieter wasn’t in bed, he was in his studio, painting away on canvases she wasn’t allowed to see yet. 

The last two weeks had been… interesting. 

She thought the switch from being just friend to… more than friends would be awkward but surprisingly both Dieter and her slipped into… whatever they were now easily. 

At the end of the day not much had changed. 

They were still best friends and loved each other. 

Now they only kissed and touched each other whenever they wanted. And they did that. A lot. 

She could hear the speedboat approaching outside, the doctor that came to see Dieter now only coming once a week when groceries and other things they needed were delivered to their little private island. 

She never in her wildest dreams thought that not only she would love to spend so much time with Dieter but she would not look forward to get back into their old lives. 

But that was still two weeks away. Two weeks, that would hopefully give both of them all the answers they were searching for not only for themselves, but on how their relationship would change once they had to leave their little cocoon. 

She heard Dieters before she saw them. 

His naked feet hitting the wooden floor as he walked towards the main entrance. Only in the last second he seemed to see her, his eyes softening and walking towards her, kissing her softly. 

„Can you stay in our room?“ He asked. 

Another recent change. While they hadn’t actually had sex yet, they had been sleeping in the same bed since the first time they kissed. It was…. So different than both of them had experienced in the past. 

While before Clara, even in the beginning when she was in love with another person, still cherished her own space at night, she basically was attached to Dieter the moment they got under the covers. Something Dieter welcomed with open arms, loving the way Clara felt against him every night. 

She frowned at his request though. 

„Why?“

A grin sneaked to his lips. 

„You trust me?“ Dieter asked, one of his hands on her hip, his other hand pushing her hair behind her ear. He looked excited, so she nodded. 

„Good,“ he kissed her again. 

„Then come and meet me in the living room after your next call,“ he said, having memorised her online meeting schedule by now. 

„Fine,“ she said, still a little suspicious, eyes narrowing playfully, before she turned around, taking one last look over her shoulder before she rounded the hallway, walking towards their bedroom where she had been working from since they gotten here. 

With a deep breath Dieter turned away, walking outside to see if anything was going according to plan. 

His doctor and two other men who were carrying various boxes approached and he hoped it was the surprise that had been delayed due to shipping problems.. 

„You got everything?“ Dieter asked and they all nodded. 

„Awesome. Could you just bring all these boxes into the living room?“ He asked and the two men already walked past him into the house, knowing their way around. 

„You look good, Mr. Bravo,“ his doctor said and Dieter took a deep breath, a smile on his lips. 

„I don’t think I have felt this good in twenty years,“ he said honestly. 

„That’s good. Now, I talked to your therapist after you gave me the contact details. Let’s talk?“ He asked and Dieter nodded, showing the man the way inside. 

Seconds after Clara’s last call ended, Dieter knocked on the door. 

He had spend the last two hours talking to his doctor and then, after he left setting up a call with his therapist back in LA. 

There were a lot of things Dieter would have to work through, hopefully with Clara by his side as his partner. He was getting anxious only thinking about not spending every single minute of the day with her but he knew life had to somehow carry on once they left here. 

So he would make the most out of the time they had left here, just the two of them. 

He hoped she would like the little surprise he had set up. 

When she opened the door her eyes widened before her hand flew to her mouth covering her mouth as she laughed. 

„Santa?“ She asked and Dieter grinned, his finger flipping the end of his Santa hat playfully. She couldn’t help but laugh when she noticed the matching swim shorts he also was wearing. 

Almost giddy he held up a mistletoe over his head and she snorted before she got on her tiptoes, her arms coming up to cross behind his neck, her lips pressing against his. 

He would never get tired of this. 

„Ready for your surprise?“ He hummed against her lips. 

„A surprise?“ She asked, eyes wide. He nodded. 

„Come,“ he kissed her again before he took her hand and pulled her towards the living room. 

Her lips parted in shock when she walked into the living room. 

It looked like a Christmas store had exploded in there. There was a fake tree half assembled in the corner, Three big boxes of what she thought were ornaments next to the couch. Strings of Christmas lights that Dieter must have started to unpack lay on the floor in a tangled mess and she could just almost see where he got frustrated before he just let them be. 

She felt his arms come around her from behind, his chest against her back, hugging her close, his chin resting on her shoulder. 

„I know how much you love Christmas. And it’s my fault you aren’t spending it in your Fever dream of apartment this year,“ he teased and she rolled her eyes. He had always teased her about her decorations. 

„So I wanted to do a little something for you. To show you how grateful I am that you never stop believing in me. Even when I don’t believe in myself anymore. And I… I really wanna change this time. I wanna stay sober, be healthier,“ he promised and kissed her cheek. 

„Dieter, this is too much…“ Clara mumbled, feeling the tears in her eyes. 

„It’s not enough. You’ve been dealing with my shit for almost twenty years on and off. Let me start to make it up to you,“ he mumbled against her ear, lips brushing over her skin. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. 

„Okay,“ she whispered. 

There was something magical about a lit Christmas tree when she could hear the ocean outside.

They had spent all afternoon decorating the tree, Christmas music blasting from the speakers. 

They had sang together (horribly), dance together (sillily), kissed each other breathless (both ready for more).

After they finished he told her that he hadn’t unpacked all the food that had been brought yet. It was when she was sorting through one of the boxes in the kitchen, Dieter also putting stuff away that she found the package of condoms. 

She hummed interested, Dieter looking up at her as she held the condoms up with a raised eyebrow and puckered lips. 

„You expecting company, Bravo?“ She asked, teasing him. 

„I expect nothing. But… I like to be prepared for every scenario,“ he said with a wink and Clara nodded slowly. 

„I know that you had a vasectomy before you got married, and you know I had my tubes tied like ten years ago, right?“

He walked over towards her, nodding. 

„I also know I haven’t had my blood tested in a while. So….“ He shrugged, his hands on the kitchen counter behind her, caging her in. 

„Would you like to have sex with me, Dieter?“ Clara whispered, her lips kissing up his chin with a smile that only widened when she heard him groan. 

„More than anything,“ he said, dipping this head so he could catch her lips in a deep kiss. 

„Tonight?“ You asked and he groaned against her lips, his body pressing against Clara’s and she could feel him. 

„Tonight,“ he nodded, kissing her once more before he took a step back and moved back towards the box he had been unpacking earlier. He smirked at her when he caught her eyes, still flushed and out of breath. 

And now she was sitting on the sofa, looking at the lit Christmas tree, with Dieter walking around, closing every window and door for the night before he came back to her, holding his hand out for her to take. 

They didn’t talk as he led her to their bedroom, closing the door behind him as she walked towards the bed. 

The thought that this could get awkward really quickly crossed her mind, but then Dieter was kissing her. Kissing her like he hadn’t before, his tongue playing with hers as he walked her towards the bed they had shared for weeks. 

He guided her onto the it, parting from her lips to look down at her as she slipped into the middle of the bed, her eyes undressing him and he smirked as he took his shirt off, loving the way Clara’s lips parted in appreciation 

Before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped the Santa shorts he was still wearing down his legs, leaving him standing completely naked in front of her. Clara’s eyes took him in before she got on her knees, crawling to the edge of the bed. 

She kissed up his chest, her fingertips running up this strong back, feeling him shiver. Dieter took a deep breath as his fingers found the fabric of the shirt she was still wearing, groaning once it was off and he could see her boobs.

„Fuck,“ he let his head fall back before he felt her hand in his hair, pulling him down against her lips. He wrapped his arms around her, wanting her closer, his hands exploring her body, one hand slipping beneath the leggings she was wearing. 

He would never get tired of feeling her skin beneath his fingertips. 

Dieter felt her lips twitch into a smile as he moaned, her fingers lightly scratching over his scalp. 

„Can I suck you cock baby?“ She asked and he nodded. 

„Never gotta ask. The answer will always be yes“ he grinned and she giggled as she began to kiss down his chest, one of her hand wrapping around his already leaking cock. 

„Noted,“ she hummed before she licked at the tip, making him almost jump. Her eyes never lost contact as she parted her lips and took him into her mouth, slowly, almost teasingly exploring every vein and ridge of his length. 

Dieter was pretty sure he was gonna die. 

Her mouth was heaven and when she began to bop her head? He had to try to remember the lines from the first play he was in to not cum immediately. 

And the noises she made? 

Fuck.

Clara felt the same, enjoying the weight of him in her mouth as she sucked him off, the moans that came out of his mouth going straight to her pussy. She loved the way he was holding her hair up, winking up at him. 

If only she had known how much she would enjoy having him moaning like that, she would have done this so much sooner. 

„Fuck… Stop… Stop or I’m gonna cum. And I wanna feel you first,“ he said, taking a step back, his cock falling out of her mouth. 

He helped her get out of her leggings before he pushed her down onto the bed, climbing onto it and kissing her. She parted her legs, crossing them behind his back when he was on top of her, loving the weight of him on her. 

She blindly searched for the package of condoms she had thrown onto her bedside table, humming when she found it. Dieter kissed down her jaw, her throat, kissing himself down towards her breasts, his lips closing around one of her nipples, his tongue playing it it. 

She whimpered, rolling her hips up, feeling the weight of his cock slipping through her folds. 

„Wanna eat your pussy,“ he mumbled against her skin and she shook her head. 

„Later. Wanna feel you first,“ she said, finally having one of the condoms out of the package holding it up. Dieter released her nipple with a wet plop as he sat himself up, reaching for the condom, opening the package. He made quick work of rolling it onto his cock. 

It was then that his eyes dropped between her legs, seeing her for the first time. He released almost a growl before he slipped one of his hands between her legs, his fingers slipping through her wet folds. 

She moaned when he brought his fingers to his lips to taste her. 

„Gonna have you for breakfast every day,“ he wiggled his brows and she chuckled. 

„Promises, promises,“ she teased, her foot behind him slowly dragging up his thigh, teasing him. 

„You’ll see,“ he winked before he got into position, his hand wrapped around his cock, teasing the tip of it through her folds, before he slowly pushed in. They both watched him enter her, slowly, Dieter wanting to give her time to get used to his thick length. 

„Fuck, Dieter,“ she whined and he looked up at her, her hands on her tits, eyes still fixed on where his cock was filling her. 

She finally looked up when he was fully inside of her, and then she smiled and he lost it, leaning down so his chest was against hers as he began to move. The first moan he heard from Clara as he thrusted almost enough to make him cum right then and there. 

Her hands where everywhere she could reach as he fucked her, and he made a mental note to have her ride him the next time so he could explore more of her. 

„You feel so good, Dee,“ she moaned „I’m so close already.“

„Me too, baby. What do you need? Want you to cum on my cock,“ he panted, still fucking her in deep strokes. 

Instead of answering, one of her hand sneaked down between her bodies, starting to circle her clit. 

And within minutes she came, clenching so hard around his length that within seconds after he came too, twitching inside of her as he spilled himself into the condom, only imagining how it would feel to fuck her without one. 

They looked at each other, both out of breath before he dropped down to kiss her, rolling her so she was on top of him, making her squeal against his lips before they both laughed. 

„I could really get used to this,“ she whispered against his lips. 

„I hope you do,“ he smiled, before he kissed her again. 

The amount of time they spend in bed from that first time increased. A lot. Though it was not just the bed. It was the couch, the kitchen counter, the pool, the floor….

Clara couldn’t remember ever having this much sex, not that she was complaining. 

Dieter knew what he was doing and she loved to be on the receiving and of it.

It was Christmas Eve today and she was laying by the pool, naked as the day she was born as she watched Dieter, equally naked walking towards her from the ocean. 

Dieter had made the very compelling point that since they were the only two people on an island with no people and especially paparazzi around that he wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. 

Of course he had asked if Clara would be okay with him hanging around naked. When she took her clothes off as an answer he had fucked her against the floor. 

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him now, skin tanned and glistening with ocean water as he made his way towards her. 

Fuck, she was one lucky woman. 

„Put those bedroom eyes away, you already have me naked,“ he teased as he leaned down to kiss her softly, his cold hands squeezing her boobs with a grin, making her jump. She put her arms around him, deepening the kiss and Dieter moaned as he let himself get on top of her, cock already half hard. 

„You taste like the ocean,“ she whispered against his lips with a smile and felt him grin before he slowly kissed down her body. 

„Rather taste like your pussy,“ he winked before he got in between her legs and began to eat her out. 

She woke up to lips kissing up her back on Christmas morning. 

With a smile she turned on her back, finding Dieter resting with his head on one of his arms beside her, his other arm wrapped around her. 

„Merry Christmas, baby,“ he smiled and she smiled back tiredly. 

„Merry Christmas yourself,“ she whispered and he leaned in to kiss her softly. 

„I have something for you,“ he hummed and she raised her eyebrows, surprised. 

„You have?“ She asked and he nodded.

„Can I show you?“ He whispered and she nodded, letting him kiss her again before she let him led her out of bed.

There were colours everywhere. 

When she arranged to set up this room for him so he could paint it was a beige sad little office. She had FaceTimed with the realtor who was responsible for renting the property out and giving instructions how to change the interior of the room and what supplies to get. 

Clara hadn’t seen the room in all the time they had been here. 

This room was… it was 100% Dieter. She knew he had spent a lot of time in here, she just never imagined that he had painted so much. 

And so many versions of herself. 

In all colours she could imagine. 

He had spend all this time painting her?

She was already fighting tears within the first minute of stepping inside the room, Dieter’s hand still in hers as he watched her. 

„This is… This is beautiful,“ she whispered softly before she finally looked at him. 

„Still not doing you justice,“ he said and now she felt her tears run down her cheeks, before she wrapped her arms around Dieter, hugging him closely. 

„I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Dieter,“ she whispered when she looked up at him, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. 

„That’s good. Cause I know I’m in love with you,“ he whispered back before her kissed her. 

One Year later

Dieter had a smile on his lips as he looked up at the canvas hanging in the bright and new hallway. It was one of the pieces he had painted on their island last year, the first one he hung up in their home after the renovations had finally been finished. 

The last year had come with a lot of changes. Not just because him and Clara had made the decision to part ways professionally, but because the reason was so they could start their life as a couple. 

They both had made this decision, Dieter not wanting her having to deal with everything that he came with anymore. 

Not that there was much to take care of now that he had quit acting. 

Much to his surprise he had gotten the Golden Globe and another Oscar for his last project, so what more was there left to do for him professionally?

The last thing he had to promote would be coming up in march of the next year and after that he was ready to never see a red carpet again. He still didn’t know exactly what he would be doing now that he wasn’t acting anymore, but thankfully the investments he made and the way he had worked for the last twenty-five years gave him the freedom to take his time to find out. 

And then there was Clara. 

He was almost disgustingly in love with her (his sister’s words, not his) and there would be no stopping. 

It had taken only six weeks after the island for both of them to make the decision to move in together. 

And to their pure luck, while scrolling through Zillow listings one night when he had visited her in New York they had found their dream home. 

He never thought he would move to the Hamptons one day, yet here he was, in a big country style house with a wrap around porch and a private beach, living with the love of his life. 

With a smile he made his way downstairs, finding Clara in the kitchen, checking on the process of the dinner. They had invited family and friends for their first Christmas in their house together who would arrive later. 

They had both taken cooking lessons together in the last two months since they moved in and she loved taking her time to cook with him every day now. 

„Hey,“ he smiled and she looked up, giving him a sweet smile back. She had her hair up in a messy bun and was wearing one of his shirts. No make up. She was absolutely breathtaking.

Dieter walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. 

„Hey,“ she smiled back, turning her head to kiss his cheek. 

„Guests will be here in an hour,“ he said and she nodded.

„Just wanted to check before I go upstairs to get ready,“ she said and he nodded. He kissed her cheek, watching her hum as she stirred the soup in front of her. 

It was in that moment that he decided that he didn’t want to wait any longer, that he didn’t want to share this moment with anyone else later. 

His hand searched for the small box he had been carrying around with him for the last six months, the ring he designed for her inside, Clara still focused on the food as he dropped to one knee behind her, He reached for her hand, as he took a deep breath, smiling at the surprised gasp escaping her lips as she turned around. 

She said yes before he could even ask his question. 

[starkeyslust]

𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍.

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌. 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙖𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙧, 𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨. 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙.

𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝.

𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮/𝙣 𝙮/𝙡/𝙣, outer banks’ hottest couple. the couple everyone idolized and wished they could be. girls all over the island wanted to be her. guys all over the island wanted to be him. the parties, the drugs, the love, the money. what more could anyone want on the island of outer banks?

one look at the couple would leave you questioning how two people could be so picture perfect. driving their fancy and brand new cars, never dirty and never a scratch or dent. always smiling, showing off loads of pda on any occasion. looking like they stepped right out of a romantic comedy movie. the type of couple you would watch on the tv as a child and only dream to have the impossible.

she was a walking goddess. from her shining smile to her sweet angelic laugh. her hair was shinier than anything anyone’s ever seen. she smelt like heaven. her perfume was intoxicating and left anyone who smelt it in another mindset. she seemed to never have a pimple, a bad day, never a hair out of place. her skin was buttery smooth, shiny and clear. some would say she quite literally was glowing. always dressed in luxury brands, heels on any occasion, the newest and most expensive handbags with matching jewelry. her nails never having a chip. always manicured to perfection, toes painted white. she didn’t need to work, her family had it all. she had money up to her head, swimming in the bills. she just got to prance around town, going to every shop in the mall, just to go home to her prince charming.

he was the guy every girls wanted since he hit puberty. standing at six foot four, built with muscles that would have any girl fainting. his cologne reeked of money and power. his deep husky voice made anyone melt in their spot, fawning over his even deeper chuckle. his smirk was extremely attractive and caused far too many girls to squeeze their thighs together. his captivating ocean blue eyes holding an intimidating gaze but at the same time, all anyone wanted to do was dive into them. he was every girls dream man. the type of guy they wished to marry as little girl dressed like a princess. although his flaws were out in the open for anyone to observe. everyone in outer banks knew of his explosive tendencies. his willingness to fight anyone who ticked him off in the slightest. his haunting cocaine addiction that only added to the ticking time bomb inside of him. his deep hatred for pogues never went unannounced. if you weren’t his friend or fawning over him, you hated him.

he would die for you and he’s told you that far too many times.

what more could anyone want? a picture perfect life straight out of a fairytale with just the added bonus of a boyfriend who would fight any guy who even gave you a sideways glance. 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙮𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡.

keep your eyes up as you traverse the driveway, past the gates and up the steps to the front door. don’t bother knocking, no one’s going to answer. turn the knob and open the door. watch the true rafe cameron and y/n y/l/n unfold right in front of your eyes.

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as many are lead to believe, rafe cameron is an explosive shell of a man who can’t handle his fragile masculinity being threatened. unafraid to scream in anyone’s faces if they try to test him. didn’t matter if it was his family, friend, man or woman. even his girlfriend. right?

let’s actually scrap that. that’s how he was before he met you. y/n changed his life around. he felt he was able to control his anger better. he could talk things out without a fight unlike his previous ‘relationships’. he felt calm when he walked the halls of his childhood home for once in his lifetime. only because he knew he was walking to him room where you resided. you and your warm embrace. your angelic laugh and cosmic smile. he felt like he was living in a fan fiction, a dream. in reality it was a nightmare, a horror movie.

six months and six days is all it took for y/n to change. you were a nightmare dressed as a daydream. you knew the game all too well. how to dig deep into his brain and feelings. you knew just the way to make him feel safe and secure. to back down. lose his confidence in defense. he won’t fight back anymore. that was something you are confident in. an confident you should be.

the first time it happened, it was a sunny saturday afternoon on topper thornton’s boat. rafe was talking with kelce while you and topper were at the front of the boat. he had just broken up with sarah and he always had his eye on you. rafe had been alerted by your all too familiar flirty tone and even flirtier giggle. it made his head snap to you guys, only to be met with your hand feeling up his bicep. he didn’t want to accuse you in front of everyone, but he was twitching to say something. an excuse later, the day was cut short and you were back in an empty tannyhill with no one but rafe.

“were you fucking flirting with topper?”

that set you off. how dare he accuse you of flirting with his best friend? “what the fuck rafe? why would i ever do that?” you asked in disbelief, anger bubbling all too quickly. although you knew that you were and you didn’t care. you would do what you pleased. he wouldn’t hear that from your lips though.

that was your first real fight. one sentence caused a full on screaming match between the two of you. one sentence caused rafe to find out who you really were behind those sparking eyes and perfect face. he should’ve known it was too good to be true. he would never get his happy ending. a guy like him didn’t deserve it.

before he knew it, you were grabbing the closest thing to you and chucking it with a strength he never expected you to have. it was a glass statue. one that shattered upon impact and left him littered with glass shards in his delicate skin. the impacted areas began to bleed nearly immediately and you just walked away. he would clean up the mess he started on his own.

he broke a seal that day. every little thing began setting you off that he did wrong in your eyes. which was nearly everything. the slightest tone change or glance in the wrong way and he would earn yet another bruise to his body. you were stronger than your small body gave off. way too strong. a slap, a punch, something thrown, it didn’t matter. you were doing one or all on the daily at this point. he put up with the torture for months.

rafe began crying more than he was smiling. he was left to clean up your mess on his own, bandaging himself up, crying from the pain as he showered. the hot water hitting every spot causing a burning sensation that made his body feel like it was on fire. he was living in hell everyday with you.

not once would he fight back. he knew you would run with it and twist the story. your father was more prominent than his and would do anything for his little girl. his life would be ruined way too quick if he put his hands on you. he took it with pressed lips and dull eyes that held nothing but pain and sorrow. the love that once lit up his eyes slipped away, taking his bright blue hue with it. leaving nothing but dull gray regret in its place.

it was only a few days after your thousandth fight that you began using his cocaine. you told him he didn’t need it and needed to stop anyways. it formed an addiction in your veins that left you high everyday, unable to function without it. it only made you meaner, stronger. the bruise here and there turned into bruises littering his body daily.

he had even ended up in the hospital once. he had nightmares about that day. you were cutting up some fruit when he set you off and your first instinct was to throw the knife directly at him. it hit just next to his heart by pure magic and he was rushed to the hospital.

you spent hours of your life putting makeup on his visible bruises to hide what you truly were behind closed, locked, and bolted doors. he was forced to act happy and in love. the pictures you two posted kept up the idea of just how perfect you two were. no one even batted an eye and the two of you. why would they? you were perfect together after all.

you sat at his desk, snorting lines while he was in bed rest from the stab wound. you starved him and would leave to be with topper. he could fend for himself after all. he was a grown man who did nothing but push your buttons. like a little kid in an elevator.

he would be in too much pain to move so he laid there until he was able to get wheezie to bring him something. he would open instagram or snapchat just to be met with pictures of you and topper. waterworks began like clockwork.

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he would rather be dead than live another day as your boyfriend.

after being hospitalized again, rafe cameron had decided he had enough. once he recovered, he stood across the living room from you. he wasn’t backing down this time. he was fighting back.

“y/n you can’t keep doing this to me! you’re going to kill me! i never did anything to you to deserve this kind of treatment. i fucking loved you and you had the audacity to flirt with my best friend!” the blonde boy yelled, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

you could only laugh, crossing your arms across your chest in a testing manor. “you’re a big boy rafe. you can handle it. i told you time and time again that i never acted in any flirtatious way towards topper.”

“that’s bullshit. i see all the shit you two post. no best friends post like that. especially when one of them are in a relationship.” he scoffed, rolling eyes following. “i’ve had enough of it y/n. i have no feelings but hatred for you now. i’m fucking done!”

“you’re done? good luck rafe. you can never leave me and you know that. your father will be pissed you fucked up such a big business deal for him.” you said, laughing at the audacity this boy had.

“i’ll tell him what you’ve been doing. why im really in the hospital, why his shit is really broken almost daily. i’ll tell the police, your family, everyone. you’ll be the one with nothing. i would rather be dead than with you another minute.” he threatened, narrow his eyes. his heart was racing a million miles per hour. his anxiety was through the roof and quite frankly, he was scared.

“oh yeah? you’re going to tell everyone? listen to me carefully rafe cameron.” you snapped, tone dark and senile. you began stepping closer to him. he only backed up in response until he was against a wall. he was trapped as you got in his face.

“you are nothing without me. you’ll have no friends left. everyone will believe that you’re just the same coke addicted, hotheaded, fucking piece of shit you’ve always been. you were always getting in fights and suddenly that just stopped? oh no. no one will believe that. you’re just an insecure little bitch with daddy issues. ward would never believe you and he will never love you rafe. you’re no sarah, get that through your thick skull. all that matters when it comes to you is that you see through this business deal for him. do you really think anyone will believe a little boy that can’t do anything right? a little boy that could never do anything right in the public’s eyes. keep talking your bullshit and see where it gets you.” you ranted, voice holding venom. a dark twisted laugh escaped your perfectly glossed plump lips. “if you would rather be dead, than so be it. i’ll make sure that happens. you’ve always said you’d die for me.” you said, a smirk growing.

your eyes were devoid of emotion, almost pitch black. he had never seen them like that before. he had never seen you turn into a full blown psychopath. he seemed to have really pushed you over the edge this time. he had a feeling he would never get his happy ending. he was about to meet his end today. there was no way out of this. he signed his death contract the day he asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes. he realizes that now. slowly as the minutes pass, he comes to peace with his inevitable death at your hands.

he was at peace with the fact he would never feel his fathers love. his friends aren’t his friends. you aren’t who he fell in love with. he was never good enough. just a fuck up. a disgrace to the cameron family name. you were right in the end. you always were.

─────────────────────────

rafe cameron’s death was the talk of the island. not a single soul wasn’t talking about it. you were painted as the grieving girlfriend who was the victim in all of it. an autopsy was never performed on his body. his death was passed as an overdose from cocaine. after all, he had loads of it in his room and all over his desk. his friends warned him about his addiction. it would kill him. only they didn’t realize it was a different addiction that would kill him.

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𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙮’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨!

first fic! it went a completely different direction than i had planned but that’s alright! what do we think? i also haven’t proofread it yet, so excuse any typos! <3 hope you enjoyed it!

[roberteospeedwagon]

finn and jake are conceptually very funny characters. at first it’s like ok a boy and his dog classic story. yeah the dog can talk and has stretchy limbs but it’s a cartoon things are just like that. and then it turns out they’re brothers. and it’s like okay well that’s interesting but maybe jake was adopted by humans. WRONG. finn was adopted by a family of dogs. his bio dad’s in space jail and his bio mom is now many many robots on an island. and also it turns out that jake being all stretchy is actually an in-universe oddity and the reason he can do that is because a shapeshifting alien gave his dad a killer pimple and jake burst out like fucking athena

[yellosnacc]

Hey, it's bio man! Or at least that's my way of using his "nickname" that would translate closer to "A marital-man-partner to beating-objects" or well, a nature guy. He's one of the main characters of the story, directly involved with the expedition to Pimple Island.

At the moment, he lives among 'monk-priests' of a Ciwan monastery but isn't one himself. He seeks shelter there in exchange for service to the pack. Most people in his position only wash away their family name, then gain a new monk name, and eventually also take on the new gender and title among the workers of the gods. Bio man has been living in the monastery for years without trying to get any of that and is considered something of a freak for his way of isolating himself from the social groups that slomen so strongly gravitate to. Some of the slomen there even think he's only there to gain access to the archived knowledge, or is even some sort of spy.

But bio man is just a person who wants to be alone, untouched, unsensed - an easily overwhelmed guy. Humanoid in attitude but still emotionally lacking due to, well, not being a human that can just do his own stuff forever.

He has his own plans and motivations, but for now, his actions mostly include collecting plants, rocks, and carcasses to bring back to the house to stare at (as some would put it). And thanks to the pity of the higher priests, this only affects his nickname. (Well, it also got him the mark of knowledge, which he has to wear in public as one of his services to the house. It makes outsiders aware they can ask him questions, mostly nature-oriented.)

I already posted him outside Tumblr, hoping I would be done with his other outfits when I post him here, but I think I will just post them in a reblog later with more context for them and the setting.

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

PLEASE talk more about luca model au i am begging you

this ask is ages old oh goddd. not included me coming around here with my tail between my legs. my bad my bad. anyway this got long

but the point isssss

pecco sort of—he doesn't even know, is the thing. what he was thinking when he grabbed luca's wrist and dragged him in for a kiss, this wet, clumsy thing in the ranch's kitchen with his party dying out outside. what is the point of remembering the press of luca's bird-boned fingers inside him, and the curl of his grin against the hollow of his throat, and the noises—mortifying now—that pecco had made.

what he's hoping for, exactly, with their text thread open. pecco spends a few days staring at it, the barren good luck :) and that was a good ad that spans all the time they've been friends.

but there's always the next thing to worry about. pecco spends december cooking in some island, studiously not checking this phone, carola throwing narrow-eyed looks at him, and then january comes around. new season, new bike. ducati is frizzing with the delirium of finally fucking winning it. they think he can do it again. pecco thinks he can do it again.

so work smooths out the edges of his nausea when he thinks about luca's pale pink mouth. all the way through media duties with enea. through data analysis. through testing. until—

are you riding today? bez asks excitedly. all of bez is like this, easy and open.

pecco's stomach does something funny. nervous puker and so on. luca sets his mug against the counter. he looks—like shit, maybe. pale and wan. tired. eyes glossy. it'd be nice if he raced. luca is good on the ranch—it's basically his track.

he shrugs, though, his voice is thick when he speaks. maybe tomorrow, i'm a little sick.

and so that's it. pecco makes an appropriate noise of sympathy. when they get out to race, the dust bleached pale under the sun, he thinks he can see luca watching them. the shape of him, his shadow. pecco's skin feels three sizes too small the whole day.

crux of the matter, pecco isn't a coward. he isn't. he's barely thinking when he orders some soup, something warm, homely. the shit he used to order for himself when he was alone in pesaro and sick.

he thinks maybe that he's being stupid. valentino's cooks can whip up something for him. but luca's face cracks in a smile, this untrained thing, and he thanks him in this snotty, slightly bemused misery.

he's handsome, pecco thinks, feeling this buzz at the tips of his fingers. with his sunken cheeks, the bags under his eyes, his pimples. handsome, handsome, handsome with his legs bundled up in a blanket, laughing when he starts telling pecco about his last shot.

it was cold in japan. luca starts showing him pictures of the backstage, him submerged in a pond, blue eyes lined with black and very open. sharp. him wet like a cat, dressed only in this white robe, the fabric see-through and sticking to his skin, so that pecco can see the outline of his nipples.

pecco can't tell what kind of make up luca is wearing, or what the fabric is, or anything. it's like silverstone, he says stupidly, his mouth numb. the cold, i mean. he never knows how much he can mention racing to luca. if it's still this bleeding thing between him and valentino.

but it must not be so stupid, because luca's face is still soft, and he says kind of, and they keep talking.

pecco turns the notifications on for FUDGE and reposts luca's cover when it drops. grandeeeee, like he does when someone wins a race. it means nothing. it means nothing when they start texting a lot, in between the slots of free time they have, jumping all over the world.

pecco would take this. the embarrassment of thier night together smoothed over, their friendship better than ever. but then luca drops a photoshoot with honda, and he thinks fuck. thinks that he's going absolutely insane.

it's not luca's most dirtiest shot. it's just him on a bike, honda's fireblade, long fingers wrapped around the handlebars, chest flat on it, a sliver of his laser blue eyes visible through the visor. it's just him leaning on it, racing jacket thrown over his shoulder, looking a little smug, a little windswept.

pecco's breaths come out funny. he has, what, twenty minutes until he needs to talk to reporters about jorge's challenge and his own championship chances. and still he sticks a hand inside his shorts. from the side, the honda red could be ducati red. could be pecco's bike, and pecco's merch.

he comes out of his motorhome sweaty, a little flushed, late enough that his press officer is gritting their teeth. and then he sees luca chatting with bez, laughing.

fuck, pecco thinks, more desperately than he's ever felt.

[muffinman1901]

CHARACTER HEADCANNONS!!!

Nico, Will, Percy, Leo, Hazel

Nico:

•Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, Autism, Dyslexia and Dyscalculia

•Uses mobility aids when his pain is really bad, along with compression clothes and braces

•Smells of Pomegranates, and also grows his own

•Wears hello kitty pyjamas

•Loves musicals and watches ‘Say yes to the dress’ religiously

•All of his clothes are covered in Mrs O’Learys fur

•Can braid, and loves to braid Hazel’s hair for her

Will:

•OCD, ADHD

•Always has plasters with him

•Has no spacial awareness anywhere except in the infirmary- constantly falls up/down stairs and walks into bannisters

•Literally smells like warmth

•Loves baking, but always ends up burning things by mistake

•Carries snacks in all his shorts pockets

•Has multiple TikTok accounts where he pops pimples and removes blackheads, etc

Percy:

•ADHD and Dyslexia

•Smells of sea salt at all times

•His eyes glow when he’s underwater and it’s dark

•Once broke his wrist in an arm wrestling contest with Jason

•Watches Bluey whenever he needs to study and it actually helps

•Has a cupboard full of blue food colouring/blue food

•Watches ‘Love Island’ and claims it’s only because his mum watches it, but he watches it purely for the drama

•A swim instructor in his free time

Leo:

•ADHD, Autism and Dyslexia

•Biggest swifty ever.

•Can learn instruments fast because his hands just work without him having to think about it

•Smells of hot sauce

•Does quizzes in his free time for fun

•Loves brushing Piper’s hair

•Organises a game night every week after hearing from Apollo that they have one on Mount Olympus

•Sneezes fire

Hazel:

•Dyscalculia and Dyspraxia

•Loves it when Nico braids her hair

•Smells of Dior perfume

•Normally doesn’t wear shoes because she likes being able to sense the minerals beneath her

•Her eyes literally sparkle, like gold dust

•Wears purple satin pyjamas

•Nico is her go-to gossip man, because he knows literally everything about everyone, but he can keep his mouth shut… Hazel can’t.

•Constantly falls over, and needs something to hold onto when going up/down stairs, so she really appreciates ramps and banisters

[toipandan]

2024 Art Summary

Characters in order

January: Priya (my magical girl OC) February: None : ( March: Chung / Comet Crusader (ELSWORD, this was last time I did traditional art iirc?) April: Chung (ELSWORD, again) May: Marx (Kirby) June: Aisha / Aether Sage (ELSWORD) July: Disco Bear (Happy Tree Friends) August: Needle, Pencil and Match (Battle for Dream Island) September: Paper (Inanimate Insanity, he is still a dude btw) October: Aisha / Aether Sage (ELSWORD, again but she got a glow up) November: Yin-Yang (Inanimate Insanity II) December: Amy Pimling and Pim Pimpling (Smiling Friends, humanized designs by @beas-roses-2007)

[grimspire-crossing]

I have a lot of ideas for Animal Crossing but I know that Nintendo would never listen to someone like me. I decided to list some of the ideas I've had. The list will be below the cut, because it's kind of long.

Some lil ideas:

~☆ Destroy the gender selection at the beginning of the game. It doesn't matter if you call it a "style", you're still forcing players into a binary. It doesn't even matter for most of the dialog in ACNH, anyway.

~☆ A third gender marker for the villagers, being 'other' or 'nonbinary'.

~☆ More personality types. I was thinking of 'nerdy' and 'shy', while splitting some of the normal type villagers into the shy category.

~☆ There are so many items in ACPC Complete that would do NUMBERS in ACNH. New Horizons doesn't even have 1/3 of the types of furniture that Pocket Camp Complete has, and that's really disappointing.

~☆ Some of the wigs and clothing items from Pocket Camp Complete in New Horizons or a future game would be awesome.

~☆ Once you have all ten house plots filled, and have acquired K.K., a Nook Miles Redemption license option for acquiring two more house plots.

~☆ Having an option for puttin villagers as roommates on your island. Example: I really want Sasha and Fang to be roomies, so they would be put into a home together.

~☆ When using the HHP DLC, being able to slightly expand the inside of your villager's homes. For the following idea, maybe doubling the size for an additional villager.

~☆ After finishing out your home loan, allow for resizing of the rooms of your house, along with taking rooms back off of your house.

~☆ Allow for an option for tents as houses.

~☆ Treehouse home customization.

~☆ Blanca/Porter/Copper/Booker/Pelly/Pete/Phyllis/Resetti/Don/Gracie/Katie showing up at Harvey's island on a randomized basis. Not as shopkeeps, but to peruse the wares. Gracie might be a smart idea as an additional shopkeep, though.

~☆ More octopus/anteater/big cat villagers.

~☆ Girl lions. Please.

~☆ New species of villager. I had ideas of llamas, foxes, hedgehogs, toads (frogs but taller and more oblong), and oppossums.

~☆ Maybe a girl kangaroo villager with no joey in their pouch.

~☆ GIVE IKE HIS SON BACK.

Extra Item Ideas:

~☆ Unicycle

~☆ Rollator & Walker

~☆ Hearing Aids (Wearable)

~☆ Paisley Bandana on Tank (Wearable)

~☆ Popcorn & Cranberry Garland (For Turkey Day)

~☆ Gingerbread House (For Toy Day)

~☆ Puff Ball Wall Garland

~☆ Mushroom Poster

~☆ Palmistry Poster

~☆ Pimple Patches (Star, Heart, Dot. Wearable.)

~☆ Princess Hat (Wearable)

~☆ Fairy Wings (Wearable)

~☆ Angel Wings (Wearable)

~☆ Firefly in a Jar

~☆ Fluffy Rotary Phone

~☆ Windchimes

~☆ Bucket Hat (Wearable)

~☆ Fried Shrimp (Food)

~☆ Red Wagon

~☆ Gourd Water Bottle (Wearable)

~☆ Tinfoil Hat (Wearable)

~☆ Coffin Ponchette (Wearable)

~☆ Acorn Pie (Food)

~☆ Alt. Brewstoids (different mustaches for different colors)

~☆ Alt. Windmill (Rainbow)

~☆ K.K. Punk (Music)

~☆ K.K. Bluegrass (Music)

~☆ K.K. Chamber (Music)

~☆ K.K. Lofi (Music)

~☆ Skate (Fish)

~☆ Megamouth Shark (Fish)

~☆ Manta Ray (Fish)

~☆ Bream (Fish)

~☆ Millipede (Insect)

~☆ Cockroach (Make them catchable)

~☆ Brain Coral (Sea Creature)

~☆ Portuguese Man 'o War (Sea Creature)

I have more ideas, too, but I don't want to overload this post. I think y'all get the idea, and maybe feel inspired from this post.