#lol i put this under a read more because this is a lot of stuff

[drewharrisonwriter]

Friends Without Benefits

Status: One Shot, Complete

Summary: Even if you don't believe it, Dieter Bravo is actually capable of having platonic friendships.

Word Count: 10.5k words

Warnings: strong language, heavy flirtation, sexual tension (no smut--can you believe it??), mentions of past affairs and scandals, alcohol consumption, references to Dieter’s reckless behavior, mentions of drug use, emotional vulnerability, humor, inappropriate jokes (because, Dieter!), legal contract about not fucking

A/N: Okay, I know what you're thinking… another Dieter fic? Yeah, I know—it’s like my fourth one, so clearly, the brain rot is real, and I’m trying to get it out of my system (seriously, I’m trying… sort of). I know I haven’t updated Lifeline in a hot minute, but we’ll get to that later, lol. This fic is a little different from the usual—there’s a lot more fluff and friendship stuff, but I really enjoyed playing with the dynamic of two people who could totally cross the line but decide not to (because, honestly, it’s working for them as is). Also, apologies for any typos—I tried proofreading, but doing it on my phone isn’t exactly ideal. Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!

P.S. My laptop, which served me well for 5 years, just gave out. With grad school, the recent loss of my stepdad, and ongoing medical bills, finances are tight. I’m currently managing writing commissions and my dissertation from my phone, which is okay but really challenging. If you can help with a donation or by commissioning some of my writing, or just by simply commenting or reblogging, it would mean the world to me. 💜 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any support you can offer. 💜🙏🏻

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

It started with a rejection email.

Not the kind that offered hope for future opportunities, but the type that crushed your spirit in one curt sentence:

"We regret to inform you that your application for the Screenwriting Development Program has not been accepted."

She read it over twice, then a third time, hoping something had been missed. A reason, some constructive feedback, anything. But it was just a copy-paste response sent to dozens—maybe hundreds—of other hopefuls like her. She blinked away the sting in her eyes and put the laptop to sleep.

The screen faded to black, reflecting back an image she barely recognized anymore: tangled hair, circles under her eyes, and the lingering trace of a smile she hadn’t used in days.

“Whatever,” she muttered to herself. “I didn’t need it anyway.”

That was a lie.

The Screenwriting Development Program was her shot, her dream, the chance to step out of her day-to-day grind and into the world she’d always wanted. A world where she wrote stories that people would actually care to hear.

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. In fifteen minutes, she had to be at the diner. She grabbed her apron off the back of a chair and stuffed it into her bag before heading out.

As usual, the shift was long. And slow. She spent most of her time refilling coffee for the regulars and plastering on a smile that barely reached her eyes. The rejection lingered like a dark cloud, reminding her how close she was to giving up completely. By the time her shift ended, she was so exhausted that she didn’t even change out of her uniform. She just grabbed her bag and headed out into the night.

The long walk up to her apartment felt heavier than usual. It wasn’t until she reached her front door that the next wave of despair hit her like a punch to the gut.

An eviction notice.

She stared at the paper taped to her door, her heart sinking.

“Great,” she whispered bitterly, ripping it off and crumpling it into a ball before shoving it into her bag.

Four weeks. She had four weeks to come up with the rent, or she’d be out on the street.

Later, she sat on her couch in her underwear and a camisole, trying to ignore the cold chill of the eviction notice that still hovered at the edge of her mind. The TV buzzed in the background, Dieter Bravo’s voice filling the small apartment with a familiar rasp. A half-eaten carton of ice cream sat beside her, its contents softening to a puddle as she mindlessly scooped the melting mess.

Hunger Strike was playing again. She’d lost count of how many times she’d watched it by now. Dieter’s performance was the kind that stuck with you, the kind that won awards. It wasn’t just a movie anymore; it was the movie that had put him on the map—had made him a star and earned him that Oscar. She didn’t care if everyone else had moved on to the next blockbuster; for her, Hunger Strike was it. Every look in his eyes, every rasp of desperation in his voice felt real, almost too real. It was like he wasn’t acting at all.

"We don’t need them. They need us!" His character was yelling now, his voice hoarse, raw with intensity. She could practically feel his pain, his determination radiating through the screen.

She wiped at her eyes, even though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was everything—her life, the rejection, the eviction notice looming like a ticking time bomb. Or maybe it was just Dieter. Watching him made her feel seen, like somehow, through all the chaos, someone else understood what it was like to be on the edge.

The credits rolled on Hunger Strike, but instead of turning off the TV, she did what any fan would—she went down the rabbit hole. The screen filled with suggested videos, interviews, and, of course, the latest tabloid scandals. Dieter Bravo was all over the place lately. She had seen the headlines—everyone had. It was impossible to ignore him, even if you tried.

She grabbed her phone and scrolled through Twitter, where his name was trending yet again.

"Dieter Bravo's Latest Scandal: Sex Tape with Male Assistant Exposed!"

"Gender Identity Crisis or Another Stunt? Dieter Bravo Caught in Love Triangle with Married PA!"

"Oscar-Winning Actor, Homewrecker? Dieter Bravo Linked to Personal Assistant's Broken Marriage!"

She exhaled sharply, half-amused, half in disbelief. Every few months, it seemed, something like this would pop up—another scandal, another explosion in the media circus surrounding him. But this one? A sex tape? With his male personal assistant, who was married to a woman?

It was outrageous. It was chaotic. It was exactly what you'd expect from Dieter Bravo.

How does one even make this shit up? she thought, as she tapped one of the articles. The details were just as wild as the headlines. Apparently, the PA was a guy named James, and he’d been with Dieter for years—right up until last week, when everything blew up.

An article excerpt says: "Sources say that the sex tape in question was filmed during a drug-fueled party at Dieter’s mansion. It shows intimate moments between the actor and his assistant, James, who is reportedly married to a woman. James has since left Dieter’s employment amid the scandal, and insiders claim the actor is ‘unapologetic’ about the affair. This is just the latest in a long string of public meltdowns for the once-revered actor. Dieter Bravo’s chaotic lifestyle has led many to question his mental stability and even his gender identity, as he continues to defy traditional labels."

She snorted, shaking her head. “Unapologetic? That sounds about right.”

It wasn’t that she supported his reckless behavior, but there was something about Dieter that always seemed to push boundaries in every direction. He lived like a car crash happening in slow motion, and yet, people couldn’t look away. The scandals, the chaos—they were just part of his public persona. But there was more to him than that.

She clicked on an older interview from the Cliff Beasts 6 press tour. That was the movie where everything started to unravel for him. The film was supposed to be a big comeback, but instead, it had exposed the man behind the Oscar-winning actor—drugs, sex, alcohol, and a level of unpredictability that no one in Hollywood could quite handle.

Interviewer: “Dieter, after your incredible performance in Hunger Strike, people expected another award-winning role in Cliff Beasts 6, but... that’s not what happened. Can you talk about what went wrong?”

Dieter Bravo (slouching, visibly tired): “Cliff Beasts 6... yeah, man, that was a mess. But, like, it was supposed to be a mess, wasn’t it? I mean, we were trapped in that goddamn bubble for months longer than planned, and by the end, it wasn’t even a movie anymore. It was survival.” He laughed, a rough, bitter sound. “I overdosed on camera, for fuck’s sake. People thought it was part of the documentary. Maybe it should’ve been.”

Interviewer: “So, the extended shoot during the pandemic—did that affect the film’s outcome?”

Dieter (rubbing his temples, shaking his head): “Affect it? It was the outcome. By the time we got to month six, no one gave a shit about the movie anymore. It was just about getting out of there alive. People wanted me to deliver some award-winning performance? Dude, I was barely holding it together. I mean, look at the film—Cliff Beasts was never about art. By the sixth one, it was just... noise. Star-studded, CGI-filled noise. People expected something big, but I gave them a disaster. Maybe that’s what it needed to be.”

Interviewer: “The overdose incident—was that something planned for the documentary, or did things just... get out of control?”

Dieter Bravo (smirking, then shrugging): “Planned? Nah, man, nothing was planned by then. I mean, the cameras were always rolling, right? So when I went down... they just kept filming. Thought it’d make for good behind-the-scenes footage or something. But that’s Hollywood for you.” He paused, letting the weight of it sink in before adding, “People don’t care if you’re falling apart. They just want to know if it’ll sell.”

Interviewer: “That’s pretty heavy. Do you think Cliff Beasts 6 was the start of your... well, decline? It’s no secret you’ve had a rough few years since.”

Dieter Bravo (lighting a cigarette, ignoring the studio's no-smoking policy): “Decline? Maybe. I dunno. I think people were already looking for a reason to tear me apart. Cliff Beasts just made it easier. It wasn’t the overdose that got people talking, it was the fact that it happened while I was making a movie no one cared about anymore. The sixth installment, man. By that point, the franchise was running on fumes, and so was I. But people love a good downfall, right? They see someone on top, and they wait for you to crash. They’ll stick a camera in your face and call it a documentary when really, it’s just a freak show.”

She paused the video, the cigarette smoke still curling from Dieter’s lips frozen on the screen. The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. It was no wonder the media loved to tear him apart; they were practically fed the narrative on a silver platter. His whole life had become the entertainment industry’s favorite sideshow.

She stared at the screen for a few more moments, Dieter’s face frozen in that half-smirk, half-exhausted expression. He was unraveling, and everyone was watching. Cliff Beasts 6 might have been the breaking point, but it wasn’t the cause. No, Dieter had been falling apart long before that.

In a different world, she imagined, she and Dieter could be friends. He’d probably laugh at the mess she just made, tell her not to sweat it. In another life, maybe they’d meet over coffee or work on some crazy indie project together. They’d both be swimming in their own chaos, but maybe that’s what would make their friendship work.

She wasn’t delusional; she knew Dieter Bravo was a celebrity—someone she would probably never meet, never know beyond the screen. But sometimes, when he said things like that, it felt like he was speaking directly to her. Like maybe, in some other life, they’d get along. They’d get each other.

Her eyes drifted down to the eviction notice sitting on the coffee table. Four weeks, it said. Four weeks to come up with the rent, or she’d be out on the street. It was hard to feel hopeful when every option felt like a dead end. And yet, watching Dieter talk about his own collapse, she didn’t feel so alone.

Her phone buzzed on the cushion beside her.

She ignored it at first, assuming it was just another bill reminder. But when she glanced at the screen, her breath caught.

Studio Callback - Screenwriting Internship.

Her heart stopped. A callback? After all this time?

Without thinking, she sat up too fast, the ice cream carton tipping over the edge of the couch and spilling melted chocolate onto the floor. “Shit!” she cursed, grabbing a towel and wiping at the sticky mess with quick, frustrated swipes.

It felt surreal. She had applied for that screenwriting internship months ago and had long since written it off as a missed opportunity. But here it was—another chance.

She stood there, towel in one hand, her phone in the other, staring at the message like it might disappear if she blinked. Four weeks until eviction, a job that barely covered her bills, and now, out of nowhere, this lifeline.

Her eyes flicked back to the TV, where Dieter’s face still stared back at her.

She picked up her phone and, without hesitating, replied to the message. Yes. I’ll be there.

–

The next day…

The waiting room buzzed with the same dreary energy it had since she’d arrived nearly an hour ago. Grey walls, uncomfortable chairs, and that humming fluorescent light that seemed to buzz directly into her brain. She sat on the edge of her seat, fingers tracing the spine of her portfolio, glancing at the door every time it swung open.

But this time, it wasn’t her turn.

It was him.

Dieter Bravo stormed into the room like a hurricane, sunglasses still perched on his face even though the room was dim, his hair a chaotic mess, like he’d just rolled out of bed—or maybe stumbled out of a party. His team trailed behind him, all looking frazzled and overworked. He barely acknowledged them as he flopped into a chair across from her with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“Well, this is bullshit,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “I’m a goddamn Oscar winner, and they’ve got me sitting in this dump of a waiting room like I’m some extra on a low-budget indie film.”

She bit her lip, trying to hide her amusement. She knew who Dieter Bravo was the second he’d walked in—who didn’t? His face had been plastered on every tabloid for weeks. But there was something surreal about seeing him up close, in the flesh, like he’d been plucked straight from her TV screen. Don’t freak out, she told herself. He’s just a person.

Still, the excitement bubbled up inside her, and for a moment, she just stared at him, feeling the shock wear off.

He caught her staring. “What? You think this is funny?”

She blinked, pulling herself together, giving him a deadpan look. “I think you’re acting like someone who’s forgotten what a waiting room is.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to be offended or intrigued. “And you are?”

She shrugged. “Someone who’s been sitting here for an hour. Pretty sure I’m about to merge with this chair if they don’t call me soon.”

Dieter snorted, sitting up a little straighter, like he wasn’t used to people talking to him like that. Not outside his circle, at least. “An hour, huh? That’s it? Try six months trapped in a COVID bubble filming Cliff Beasts 6. That’s real torture.”

She laughed softly. “Yeah, I saw that movie. Pretty sure it was a crime against humanity.”

He cracked a grin. “Hey, that movie’s still paying my rent.”

“Is it? Seems like you should be able to afford better waiting rooms, then.”

Dieter leaned back in his chair, adjusting his sunglasses even though they weren’t needed. “Touché.”

There was a pause, a silence between them that felt more comfortable than awkward. They were sizing each other up, like two kids sitting next to each other on a school bus, deciding if they wanted to be friends.

“So,” Dieter said, shifting his gaze toward her again. “What are you here for? You in trouble, too?”

She smirked. “I’m always in trouble.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Yeah, well, me too.” He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking around the room as if just noticing how drab it was. “You work here or something?”

She shrugged. “Depends if they think I’m good enough to work here.”

“Good enough for what?”

“I’m a writer,” she said, half-smiling, but there was a vulnerability in her voice. “Or at least I’m trying to be.”

Dieter’s eyes lit up with genuine curiosity, which caught her off guard. “A writer, huh? You got anything out there I’ve seen?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “Only if you read stuff on Medium and Tumblr.”

Dieter laughed, the sound deep and unexpected, like he wasn’t used to laughing like that. “Tumblr, huh? So you’re a real writer.” He gave her a playful look. “What do you write? Fanfiction about guys like me?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a teasing glint in her gaze. “Nope. But if I did, it’d be better than that train wreck you called Cliff Beasts 6.”

Dieter clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Right in the ego.”

She smirked. “Ego as big as yours can take it.”

For a second, he just stared at her, genuinely caught off guard. He wasn’t used to people talking to him like this—like he was normal, not some Oscar-winning disaster wrapped in a scandal. She didn’t seem to care who he was or how many headlines he’d been in. It was refreshing, and he found himself more interested in her than he had been in anyone outside his usual crowd in a long time.

“So what do you do?” she asked casually, keeping the banter going.

Dieter laughed, a full, deep sound that made him look younger than he usually did in the tabloids. “What do I do? I’m a professional disaster. You haven’t heard?”

She chuckled, nodding toward the door. “I think you’re better at it than you are at acting.”

Dieter looked at her for a beat, his mouth twitching into a smirk. “You know, I don’t get a lot of people talking to me like this. Most people, they want to kiss ass or they just want something from me.”

She shrugged, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “What can I say? I’m not most people.”

He leaned forward, intrigued. “You like books?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What kind of books?”

“The kind that make people uncomfortable.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. “I see you’ve read Camus.”

He grinned. “The Stranger. Ever read it?”

“I did. Twice. Though I’m more of a Kafka fan.” She paused for a beat, her voice deadpan. “I like my existentialism served with a side of why is everything a nightmare and also I’m a bug.”

Dieter laughed again, clearly impressed. “You’re alright, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, her tone casual, but inside, she couldn’t quite believe she was having this conversation. With Dieter Bravo. Of all people.

They stared at each other, neither blinking, as if trying to see who’d crack first. But before either could say anything more, the door opened again.

“Mr. Bravo?” A frazzled assistant appeared in the doorway, eyes wide as they motioned for him to come in. “We’re ready for you.”

Dieter groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes as he stood up. “Finally.” He paused, turning to her with a smirk. “Don’t go anywhere, book lover. We’re not done with this conversation.”

She gave him a small smile, though inwardly she rolled her eyes. Yeah, sure. Like you'd remember me in two minutes, she thought. Dieter was famous for being distracted, for forgetting people as soon as he turned a corner. Everyone knew about his ADD—it was practically part of his public persona. He’d probably forget her name before the door even shut behind him.

Inside the meeting room…

Dieter slouched into a chair, his eyes flicking toward the group of studio executives sitting across from him, all with tight-lipped expressions. They weren’t here to chit-chat. They were here to clean up his mess. Again.

“Alright, what’s the damage?” Dieter asked, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

One of the executives, a tall man with silver hair and an expensive-looking suit, sighed heavily. “We’ve already settled with James and his wife. They’ve agreed not to divorce, but we’re paying for damages—and couples therapy.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow. “Couples therapy? Really?”

The man didn’t blink. “Yes, Dieter. Really.”

The room was thick with tension, the kind that only came when the stakes were sky-high. Another executive chimed in. “The headlines are out of control. We need to distance you from this. Fast.”

“What do you want me to do? Apologize? I already said I was sorry.” Dieter’s voice was tired, edged with sarcasm, but underneath, there was a flicker of frustration.

The silver-haired executive leaned forward. “Dieter, this isn’t about a simple apology. You’ve gone beyond that. Your lifestyle—this hedonistic, Roman emperor routine you’ve got going on—it’s not just damaging your reputation. It’s hurting us. The studio. The people you’re supposed to be representing.”

Dieter blinked, caught off guard by the harshness in the man’s tone.

“We’ve invested millions in you,” the executive continued, “and right now, you’re a liability. There’s talk of ending your contract early. Cutting ties before you bring the whole house down.”

Dieter’s jaw tightened. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” the man said coldly. “I’m not.”

For a moment, Dieter just sat there, staring at the man, trying to process what he was hearing. They were serious. He was this close to losing everything.

Another voice chimed in—his publicist, trying to smooth things over. “We’re not saying it’s over, Dieter. But we need to fix this. Charities. Positive press. You need to lay low for a while.”

The executive nodded. “No public appearances, no parties. We’re going to find some charity work for you, get the public to see a new side of you. You’re going to disappear for a bit. When you come back, you’ll be better. Clean. Understood?”

Dieter clenched his fists, the frustration boiling beneath the surface. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you need.”

“And we’ll get you a new PA,” his publicist added. “Someone who can keep you grounded. Keep you out of trouble, hopefully, someone you could not fuck.”

Dieter waved them off, already bored with the conversation. His mind drifted back to the waiting room, to the girl sitting across from him, trading quips like they were old friends. At least she’s interesting, he thought.

Back in the waiting room…

She sat there, slumped in her chair, staring blankly at the wall. The interview hadn’t gone well. She hadn’t gotten the job. The casting director had been polite but distant, and she could tell by their expression that they already had someone else in mind. Her stomach twisted with disappointment.

No extra job. No extra paycheck. And no way to make rent by the end of the month.

She stared down at her portfolio, feeling the weight of her failure settle in. She’d have to start packing soon. Maybe call her mom, tell her she was coming home. She could already imagine the conversation.

“We told you so,” her mom would say. “You should’ve gone into nursing. Writing was never going to pay the bills.”

Her stepdad would nod in agreement, disappointed but unsurprised. “Creative writing? Really?” he’d say. “What did you think would happen?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying not to think about it. But the thoughts kept coming, relentless. She’d have to pack up, move back home, admit defeat.

God, I’m such a screw-up.

The door creaked open, and Dieter stepped out, glancing around. His entourage had already disappeared down the hall, leaving him standing alone for once. He spotted her instantly.

“Still here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She forced a small smile, shrugging. “Didn’t get the job.”

Dieter nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well... my meeting sucked too. They’ve decided I’m officially the next Caligula.”

She snorted. “That bad?”

“Worse,” he said, shaking his head. He stood there for a beat, looking around the room, then back at her. “You know what? Screw this. Let’s go grab a drink.”

She blinked, surprised. “What?”

“I’m serious,” Dieter said, eyes glinting with that familiar mix of mischief and exhaustion. “I need a drink. You’re funny. Let’s go.”

She stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. But he wasn’t. She could see it in his eyes—he was serious.

“You buying?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dieter grinned. “I’m an Oscar winner. Drinks are always on me.”

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly stood up, tucking her portfolio under her arm. “Alright, Bravo. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

He smirked, leading the way. “Baby, you don’t know who you’re talking to.”

–

The black Audi’s engine purred as Dieter navigated the dim streets, his phone vibrating endlessly in the cupholder. Text after text, call after call—all from his team. They were probably losing their minds, wondering where he’d disappeared to. He glanced at the notifications, scoffing, and shoved the phone further out of reach.

“So,” she said, glancing at him from the passenger seat, “do you do this often?”

Dieter smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “Do what?”

“Pick up random strangers and ask them to grab drinks with you.”

He laughed, the sound low and lazy. “No, I mean, I pick up random strangers... just not usually for drinks.”

She chuckled. “Well, you should probably get better at vetting your strangers. I could be a serial killer, you know.”

Dieter shot her a quick glance, grinning. “Even better. Might actually enjoy being murdered by you.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “You really are a disaster, aren’t you?”

“Disaster, masochist, artist... depends on the day.” He glanced over at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’ve got a hell of a sense of humor, though. I like it.”

“And here I thought you were the sadist for thinking being murdered sounds fun.”

“Nope.” Dieter grinned. “Definitely a masochist. But don’t let that scare you off.”

She smirked, leaning back in her seat. “Too late. I’m terrified now.”

They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the city lights flickering through the tinted windows, casting shadows on Dieter’s face. It felt surreal, sitting in the passenger seat of Dieter Bravo’s car, heading to God-knows-where. But she didn’t feel uneasy. In fact, she felt strangely comfortable. It was weird how easily they’d fallen into this rhythm, like they’d known each other for years.

“So,” she asked, breaking the silence, “where exactly are we getting these drinks?”

Dieter’s smirk grew as he pulled into a parking garage, winding his way up to the fifth floor. “Here.”

“Here?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Dieter parked the car, and without another word, led her to the elevator. When the doors slid open, she was met with the sleek interior of his penthouse. Glass walls, dark furniture, and a view of the city that stretched on forever.

“Oh,” she said, stepping inside, taking it all in. “I thought we were going to a bar or something.”

Dieter chuckled, locking the door behind them. “Yeah, well, I’ve been told not to be seen in public too much for a while. You know... the whole ‘clean up the image’ thing.”

She turned, leaning against the counter, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Right. The scandal.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, that.”

She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. “So, should I be worried now? You could be the serial killer. I didn’t tell anyone where I’m going.”

Dieter grinned, moving toward the bar in the corner of the room. “Well, if I am, at least you’ll die with a good drink in your hand.”

Dieter’s penthouse bar looked like it had been pulled straight out of a high-end hotel. Polished wood, rows of bottles perfectly lined up, and a set of cocktail tools that would make any bartender proud.

He moved behind the bar with a familiar ease, pulling out a few bottles and setting them on the counter. “What’s your poison?”

“Vodka, Negroni... surprise me.”

“You got it.” He started mixing, moving around the bar like he’d done it a thousand times. She followed suit, sliding behind the bar beside him, the space between them feeling natural.

As they worked, they fell into a rhythm, like two old friends who’d done this countless times before. It was easy, the way they passed bottles back and forth, the clink of ice in glasses punctuating their conversation.

“So,” she said, shaking her drink, “you always this smooth with your guests, or am I special?”

Dieter smirked. “You’re special. I don’t let just anyone behind the bar.” He watched her expertly pour out the drink, nodding in approval. “You’ve got skills.”

She chuckled. “I bartend. Well, I used to, now I just work at a diner, but it counts.”

He laughed. “I used to bartend, too. Before all this.” He gestured vaguely to his sprawling penthouse. “I kinda miss it.”

“Miss what? Making drinks for drunk people at 2 a.m.?”

He shook his head, grinning. “No, the simplicity of it. The quiet moments before the rush. And, I guess, the people. You get to talk to all kinds of weirdos.”

She handed him the cocktail she’d just mixed, and he took a sip, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Not bad. Actually, really good.”

She smiled, taking a sip of his creation in return. “Yours isn’t half bad either, weirdo.”

He snorted as he finished drinking, “Looks like we’ve both still got it.”

They clinked their glasses, a quiet laugh shared between them.

–

They moved to the couches near the window, drinks in hand, and the night outside stretched on in glittering silence. It was one of those rare moments when the city was alive, but they were in their own little world, insulated by glass and a few too many drinks.

She stretched out on the couch, swirling the last of her drink in the glass. “So, this is what it’s like, huh? Being Dieter Bravo. A penthouse with a killer view and a bar that puts most cocktail lounges to shame.���

Dieter leaned back, grinning. “You sound impressed.”

She tilted her head. “I mean, it’s nice. But I’m not that impressed.”

He snorted. “Figures. I’ve gotta work harder to impress you, huh?”

“You said it, not me.”

There was a beat of silence before he broke it. “So, what’s the story? Why’re you still working at a diner when you’re clearly way too smart for that?”

She shrugged, taking a sip. “You make it sound like I had a choice. You think I want to be a waitress?”

“No, but...” He trailed off, clearly thinking. “I don’t know. You strike me as someone who should be... doing more.”

She arched an eyebrow. “More, like what? Writing fanfiction for Cliff Beasts 7?”

Dieter laughed, the sound filling the space. “God, no. Please, spare me.”

She grinned. “It’s not for lack of trying. I just... haven’t found my place yet. It’s not as easy as, ‘Hey, I’m talented, someone notice me.’” She shook her head, her voice growing quieter. “It’s a lot of failing. Mostly failing.”

Dieter nodded, leaning back in his seat, his expression more serious now. “I get that.”

“Do you?” she asked, her voice softer but still edged with sarcasm. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re pretty damn successful.”

Dieter looked at her, really looked at her this time. “You think success means you stop failing?”

She didn’t answer, watching him with curiosity.

He set his drink down and ran a hand through his hair. “You fail more when you’re successful. Trust me. People are just waiting for you to screw up. And when you do... they’re there to watch you burn.”

“You’re talking about the scandal.”

He nodded, taking another sip. “It’s not just the scandal. It’s everything. There’s always someone out there with a camera, waiting for you to mess up. They don’t care about what you do right. Just the crash.”

“So you’re saying you’re a slow-motion car crash?” she asked, her tone dry.

He smirked, nodding. “Exactly. A car crash people pay to watch.”

She stared at him for a moment, her mind working through his words. “That’s... kind of tragic.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his grin fading. “It is, isn’t it?”

They both went quiet, the weight of his words settling between them. But then she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You ever think about, I don’t know... getting out of the car? Stopping the crash?”

He barked a laugh, shaking his head. “And do what? Go back to bartending? Give up the Oscar for a shaker and ice?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, her voice light but serious underneath. “Or maybe just... do something real. Something that’s not about everyone else’s expectations.”

Dieter looked at her for a long moment, something in his expression shifting, like he was seeing her in a new light. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I do. Look, I might not be some hotshot writer, but I’ve always believed that what matters is the stuff that’s real. The art you make when no one’s watching. The stuff people don’t get to tear apart.”

“Yeah, but the problem is, everyone’s watching.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms. “So maybe that’s their problem.”

Dieter laughed, and this time it wasn’t the careless, guarded kind of laugh he usually gave. It was genuine. “You’ve got a point.”

“Of course I do. I’m always right.”

“Okay, Camus,” he teased, rolling his eyes. “You’re officially hired as my life coach.”

She leaned back, eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t know if you could afford me.”

Dieter snorted, swirling his drink. “How expensive are you?” he asked, playful but intrigued.

She paused, pretending to consider it for a moment. “Depends… do you personally know Gérard Depardieu?”

Dieter grimaced, raising an eyebrow as he took another sip. “Gérard Depardieu?” He repeated, blinking in confusion.

She nodded, downing the rest of her drink in two big gulps, the alcohol warming her throat. “What? You don’t know him?”

“I mean, I do, but wow...” He let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a chuckle. “That’s a... pretty weird choice.”

“Well, what can I say? I like them like that.” She shrugged, her expression completely serious as she set her glass down.

Dieter threw his head back, laughing harder than he had all night. It was loud, unfiltered, and completely genuine, the kind of laugh that came when he wasn’t performing for anyone.

“You’re a trip, you know that?” he said, still grinning as he wiped at his eyes. “Gérard Depardieu. Damn. Haven’t thought about that guy in years.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What, are you saying you don’t have weird celebrity crushes?”

He tilted his head, considering the question for a second. “I mean... I am the weird celebrity crush.”

She rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “How humble of you.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “You should hear the shit people say about me online. I’ve been everything from someone’s ‘gay awakening’ to someone’s inappropriate uncle.”

She snorted into her drink, barely containing her laughter. “Jesus. People are wild.”

Dieter smirked, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, c’mon. Who else you got? Who’s on your weird celebrity crush list? Lay it on me.”

She took a slow sip of her drink, savoring the moment, then said with a completely straight face, “Willem Dafoe.”

Dieter almost choked on his drink, eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at her like she’d just told him she was into cryptids. “Dafoe? Willem Dafoe?”

“Yeah,” she said, completely deadpan. “What’s wrong with Dafoe?”

He blinked, still recovering from nearly spitting his drink out. “I mean, nothing’s wrong with him, but... wow, that’s... unexpected.”

She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “I already shocked you with Depardieu. What were you expecting? Besides, Dafoe... he’s got range.” She gave him a wicked grin and added, “Plus, you know he’s freaky in bed.”

Dieter let out a loud bark of laughter, nearly doubling over. “Holy shit... you’re a freak. A true freak.”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh no, it’s definitely not a bad thing,” he said, still chuckling as he reached over to refill her glass. “I’ve met some freaks in my time, but this? This is different. I like it.”

She eyed the freshly poured drink, tilting her head. “Not sure if I should feel good about that comment.”

Dieter grinned, clinking his glass against hers. “You should. Trust me.”

They both chuckled, the easy, playful energy between them lightening the mood even more. But then Dieter leaned back, giving her an amused look. “You know, I actually know Willem.”

Her eyes widened, her curiosity piqued. “No way. You know him?”

Dieter nodded, taking a slow sip. “Yeah. Great guy. Not as intense as his characters would make you think. Really down to earth. Freaky in his own way, sure, but... I get it. I guess I see what you see in him.”

She smiled, leaning back. “Well, that’s comforting.”

Then she paused, glancing down at her drink before adding, “I actually met him once. Worked as an assistant on a theater production he starred in a couple of years ago.”

Dieter’s eyes lit up. “No way. Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” she said, nodding. “It was this small indie thing in New York. I wasn’t his assistant or anything, just part of the general crew, but I did get to work around him a bit. He’s... different, in a good way.”

Dieter leaned forward, intrigued. “Okay, now you’ve really got my attention. You’ve done PA work before?”

She shook her head, swirling the ice in her glass. “Not really. That was more of a part-time gig while I was in school. I applied for a real PA job a few years back, but it didn’t exactly go well.”

Dieter’s brow furrowed. “What happened?”

She sighed, her smirk fading as she stared down at her drink. “Well, I got all the way through the interviews, and then the celebrity—someone old-school—told me I was too chubby to work for them. Said I wouldn’t look good in photographs.”

Dieter’s face immediately twisted into a mix of shock and disgust. “Wait, what? Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” she said, the bitterness in her voice barely masked by the nonchalance she was trying to project. “I didn’t even bother applying for PA jobs after that. Figured it wasn’t worth the hassle.”

Dieter shook his head, clearly appalled. “That’s... Jesus. I mean, I get that people in this industry are eccentric as hell, but that’s way too much. Who the hell cares what you look like in photos? You’re supposed to be doing a job, not starring in the damn pictures.”

She shrugged, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, well, some people care. Guess I wasn’t the image they wanted.”

Dieter looked at her, his expression softening with empathy. “That’s seriously messed up. I’m sorry you went through that.”

She waved him off, smiling more genuinely this time. “It’s fine. Honestly, it was a while ago. I just stuck to writing and waitressing after that.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Dieter said, leaning forward, “that guy was a complete idiot. You’d make a damn good PA.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Thanks. But I think I’m done with that world.”

Dieter studied her for a moment, then raised his glass in a small toast. “Well, here’s to not being the kind of asshole who judges people by how they look in photos.”

She clinked her glass against his, smiling again. “I’ll drink to that.”

The conversation lingered in the air after their laughter died down, a comfortable silence settling over them. She leaned back against the couch, her gaze drifting to the massive windows overlooking the city, the skyline glittering like a distant dream.

“Gotta say,” she began, her voice soft but still playful, “this penthouse is... something else. It’s almost too perfect, though. Feels more like a set than a home.”

Dieter glanced around the room, smirking faintly. “Yeah, that’s because it’s not home.”

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “It’s not?”

He shook his head, swirling the last of his drink. “Nah. It’s just a place I own. I use it for... all the shit you probably hear about in the tabloids.”

She snorted, leaning in. “You mean the orgies and sex scandals?”

“Pretty much.” Dieter chuckled, but there was something more behind the laughter. His expression softened as he set the glass down on the table. “It’s not where I live. My real home is out in Sherman Oaks.”

She tilted her head, surprised. “Sherman Oaks?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “It’s an actual house. Big, built for a family, but too large for just me. I don’t bring anyone there. Not my... conquests, not my parties. Just me. I paint there, you know? I’ve got this studio in the back, and when the world gets too loud, that’s where I go. It’s the only place I feel... I don’t know, settled.”

Her eyes softened as she listened. She hadn’t expected this level of honesty from him, but the vulnerability in his voice was unmistakable. “That sounds... nice, actually. Quiet.”

“It is,” he agreed, his gaze distant, as if he could picture the house in his mind. “But the silence can get too loud sometimes. Especially now that I’m older. That’s when I come back here. The penthouse. To drown it out.”

She frowned slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “The silence?”

Dieter nodded, exhaling softly. “Yeah. You wouldn’t think silence could be so damn loud, but it is. Especially when you’re used to everything being... chaotic.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just watched him, the weight of his words sinking in. There was a loneliness there, one that no amount of parties, conquests, or tabloid headlines could fill. It wasn’t just about being alone—it was about being seen. About finding a place where the chaos didn’t define him.

She took a breath, her tone gentle but sure. “You don’t strike me as someone who likes the noise. Not really.”

Dieter blinked, turning his gaze back to her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, people see the chaos, the headlines, the scandals. But I don’t think that’s really you.” She paused, her voice steady. “You’ve got a whole world inside you that no one bothers to look at. You’re not just the guy who parties and ends up in the tabloids. You’re more than that.”

His eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe, or recognition. He opened his mouth to say something, but she continued before he could.

“They don’t see the parts of you that matter. The parts that create, that make something out of all this mess. The fact that you’ve got a studio and you paint—that tells me a lot. You’re more than just an actor, Dieter. You’re an artist. And not because you say so, but because you are.”

For a moment, Dieter just stared at her, as if her words had landed somewhere deeper than he’d expected. She was looking at him like no one had in years. Not like a star, not like the scandalized mess the world saw. She saw him. The real him.

His throat tightened, and suddenly, the air felt heavier. “You really think that?”

“I know it,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “You’re not just memorizing lines. You’re putting something into the world that most people don’t even take the time to understand. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real. It’s real, Dieter. And it matters.”

He blinked, the familiar burn of tears stinging behind his eyes. It was strange—he hadn’t felt this exposed in so long. The vulnerability, the rawness of being seen for more than just the surface.

A tear slipped down his cheek, slow and steady. He swiped at it quickly, but another followed. It wasn’t a sobbing mess, no dramatic breakdown. Just a quiet release, like the weight of everything he’d been carrying finally had somewhere to go.

“Damn,” he muttered, laughing softly through the tears. “You’re really messing me up here.”

She smiled, nudging him gently with her elbow. “You needed to hear it.”

He wiped his eyes, still grinning despite the tears. “Guess I did.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The silence between them wasn’t heavy or awkward. It was comfortable, filled with an understanding that went deeper than words. In the quiet of the penthouse, with the city lights twinkling in the background, Dieter felt something he hadn’t in a long time.

Peace.

But of course, Dieter couldn’t let the moment just sit there. He leaned over slightly, raising an eyebrow as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “So... is this the part where we kiss?”

She burst out laughing, her head falling back as she clutched her sides. “Oh my God, Dieter, you’re such an ass.”

For the first time in a long time, Dieter didn’t feel even a twinge of offense at being laughed at. In fact, her reaction made him laugh, too—a deep, real laugh that didn’t feel performative. It was just them, laughing like idiots in the middle of a moment that could’ve been serious, but wasn’t.

He shrugged, grinning. “Hey, had to shoot my shot.”

She shook her head, still giggling as she nudged him. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me,” he teased.

“Debatable,” she shot back, smirking. “But that was not the move, Bravo.”

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, still laughing. “Alright, alright, no kiss. Got it.”

She rolled her eyes, the amusement still lingering in her expression. “Seriously, though. You’re an ass.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Dieter said, smirking. But beneath the joking, there was a warmth in his eyes, a softness that hadn’t been there before. He liked this—being around someone who could take his nonsense and throw it right back at him, without missing a beat.

–

They had been hanging out for days—Dieter laying low like his team had asked, and her finding herself more and more wrapped up in his world. It was easy with him. The lazy mornings that bled into afternoons, the spontaneous outings, the hours spent talking about nothing and everything. It was like living in a bubble, where the real world and all its mess didn’t exist.

But it couldn’t last forever.

They were lounging in his penthouse, another aimless afternoon with the TV buzzing in the background, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“So,” Dieter began, his tone casual, but there was an edge of hesitation in it. “I’ve been thinking...”

She looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. That sounds dangerous.”

He chuckled, but there was a nervousness in his smile. “No, I mean... I’ve been thinking about you. Us, I guess.”

She frowned slightly, sitting up a bit straighter. “What do you mean?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze for a moment. “I think I... I really like you. And I want to stay friends, you know? If you’re cool with it.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Of course he liked her—they got along too well not to. But she knew what had to happen next.

She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “I don’t think we can keep doing this.”

Dieter’s face fell, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait, what? Why not?”

“I can’t afford to stay in LA anymore,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’m going home. To my mom’s and stepdad’s. The diner job just doesn’t cover rent or utilities, and figuring things out in this city isn’t really feasible for me right now.”

Dieter stared at her, the words slowly sinking in. His expression shifted from confusion to something deeper—sadness, maybe even panic. “You’re... leaving?”

She nodded, trying to keep it together. “Yeah. I’ve got no choice.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at her like she’d just ripped the floor out from under him. Then, true to form, Dieter went into full dramatic mode.

“Are you serious?” he groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Like, ever.”

She laughed, despite herself. “Dieter, stop.”

“No, seriously,” he continued, flopping onto the couch like a petulant child. “You’re leaving me to fend for myself in this godforsaken city, and for what? Your mom’s house in the middle of nowhere? This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

She rolled her eyes, amused but touched by how much this seemed to affect him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Where’s your loyalty?” he muttered dramatically. “I thought we were in this together.”

She snorted. “I didn’t realize hanging out with you was a lifelong commitment.”

Dieter sat up suddenly, his eyes lighting up as if he’d just had the greatest idea of all time. “Wait a second...”

She eyed him warily. “What?”

“You still need a job, right?”

Her eyebrow arched. “...Yes?”

“I still need a PA,” he said, the excitement building in his voice. “My team hasn’t found anyone, and let’s face it—they’re probably going to stick me with some lifeless corporate robot.”

She blinked, not expecting this. “Wait, are you offering me a job?”

“Hell yes, I am,” he said, grinning like a kid with a new toy. “You’d be perfect. I mean, you know me. You get me. And you’re already here half the time anyway. Why not make it official?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. “I don’t know, Dieter. It feels like... I don’t know, like you’re just offering it because you feel bad.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “No, I’m offering it because I need you. And not in a weird way, okay? I mean, yeah, it’s a job, but it’s also more than that. I trust you. And I don’t trust a lot of people.”

She bit her lip, still uncertain. “Yeah, but it comes with a paycheck, right? That’s gonna make me feel... really dirty.”

Dieter laughed, leaning back into the couch. “Oh, come on. It’s a legit offer. And I’m paying you well, so you’ll get used to feeling dirty real quick.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“Seriously,” he continued, his tone softening again. “Think about it. It’s not charity. It’s not a handout. I really need your company, and I think you need this too.”

She exhaled, staring at him for a moment. “I’ll... think about it.”

A few days later, she was back at the penthouse, this time with Dieter’s manager, his lawyer, and Dieter himself, all sitting around the sleek kitchen island. It felt surreal.

The manager went over the details of the contract, but it was hard to focus on the specifics when her mind was spinning with how fast everything was happening.

“And, of course,” the manager added sternly, “we have to include the no-fucking clause. If you two get involved, it’s not only grounds for termination but also blacklisting.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, looking slightly offended. “Seriously? That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

She snorted, waving it off. “It’s fine, Bravo. I don’t think you’d want to fuck me anyway.”

He frowned, almost hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The manager chuckled, shaking his head. “He fucks anything that moves.”

She furrowed her brows briefly, her face showing a flash of disgust at the comment, but she kept her mouth shut. This wasn’t the time to start an argument with his team. Still, she couldn’t shake the sour taste the comment left in her mouth.

Dieter noticed her reaction and shot his manager a look, but the moment passed quickly as the lawyer handed her the contract to sign.

Once the papers were signed, it was official. She was now Dieter Bravo’s new assistant.

After the contract signing, they were back in the quiet of the penthouse. She stretched her arms out, feeling a mixture of excitement and disbelief at the day’s events. Dieter leaned against the counter, still processing it all too, and for a moment, the two of them just stood there in silence.

Then she clapped her hands together, breaking the moment. “Okay, Bravo, I’m treating you to dinner.”

Dieter blinked, confusion crossing his face. “Wait, what? You’re treating me?”

She grinned, nodding. “Yeah, to celebrate. You know, new job and all.”

He hesitated, raising an eyebrow. “You just signed a contract. You shouldn’t be spending money on me.”

She waved him off, rolling her eyes. “Take a chill pill. I just landed a sick new job with a really dirty paycheck. I’m excited, let me have this.”

Dieter chuckled, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “I’ve taken way too many pills in my life. Not sure I remember which one the chill pill is.”

She burst out laughing, grabbing her jacket. “Well, then this will be the antidote. C’mon, we’re getting Five Guys.”

Dieter’s grin grew wider, his eyes lighting up. “Damn, baby, you know I can’t say no to Five Guys.”

She shot him a smirk. “Then let’s go.”

They drove in Dieter’s car, windows heavily tinted, cruising through the LA streets as the sun dipped below the skyline. They grabbed their order from the drive-thru window and found an empty parking lot, parking under the dim glow of a streetlight.

Dieter reclined his seat all the way back, pushing the front seats to give them more space to lounge. She did the same, their legs stretched out as they unwrapped their burgers.

“So,” he mumbled around a mouthful of fries, “what now?”

She shrugged, her voice muffled as she stuffed more fries into her mouth. “Idunno.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the radio playing softly in the background, the quiet hum of the city far off in the distance.

Dieter glanced at her sideways, studying her face. “You seem a little... off.”

She paused mid-chew, looking at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, biting into his burger. “I dunno. Just felt like something’s been bugging you since we left the penthouse.”

She exhaled, setting her burger down, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Well... your manager pissed me off. Big time.”

Dieter stopped chewing, his eyes widening a little. “What? Why?”

“That comment he made,” she said, rolling her eyes, “about you humping everything that moves. It was gross. And unnecessary.”

Dieter’s face reddened, the blush creeping up his neck as he rubbed at it, a little embarrassed. “Yeah, uh... that’s just how he is.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

He chuckled awkwardly, setting his burger down. “I mean, he wasn’t wrong. You’ve heard the stories, read the articles, right?”

She stared at him for a beat, then sighed. She knew he wasn’t trying to defend his manager, and in a way, she found that endearing—his loyalty to people even after everything they’d said about him. All the rumors, the scandals, the affairs. But she tucked that thought away for another time.

“That’s not the point,” she said, shaking her head. “As someone who works with you, the first thing your manager should be doing is protecting you—even from your own team.”

Dieter blinked, her words hitting harder than he expected. He felt something crack open in his chest. She wasn’t wrong. And hearing her say it so plainly made him realize just how much he’d let slide because of loyalty. Because of fear.

He smiled softly, biting into his burger, his voice quiet. “Thanks for saying that.”

She shrugged, offering him a small smile in return. “It’s true.”

Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned over, wiggling her eyebrows. “Besides, you haven’t tried to fuck me yet, so I don’t think what your manager said was true.”

Dieter choked on his soda, laughing and coughing at the same time. “Jesus Christ,” he wheezed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

She grinned, leaning back into her seat. “What? Am I not fuckable enough for Dieter Bravo?”

He immediately shook his head, his voice firm. “No, baby–you’re...fuck– you’re hot. Like, really hot. And I’m an idiot for not jumping you the second I met you.”

She snorted, clearly amused. “But?”

Dieter sighed, running a hand through his hair, his voice quieter but more grounded now. “Look, if we hadn’t had that first conversation, that night in the waiting room... I probably would’ve tried to sleep with you.”

She gasped dramatically, her eyes widening in mock horror. “Excuse me? What made you think I’d even want to sleep with you?”

Dieter burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Oh, c’mon, I’ve got ways. If I really wanted to, I could have charmed you into it.”

She snorted, shoving another fry into her mouth. “Yeah, right. You can’t charm your way into everyone’s bed, Bravo.”

Dieter stared at her, deadpan, raising an eyebrow. “Uh... yes, I can.”

They both broke into laughter, the moment light but laced with a shared understanding. Once their laughter died down, he leaned back, the humor fading slightly as he spoke again, this time more serious.

“But seriously,” he continued, his voice softer now, “I didn’t want to cross that line with you. Because... you’re different.”

She glanced at him, curious now, the playful energy between them simmering down as he opened up.

“I’m a messy person,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the steering wheel, fingers idly tracing the edges. “In every sense of the word. My life, my relationships—they don’t end well. And I’ve ruined... too many things that mattered. I can’t ruin this. I won’t.”

She tilted her head, watching him closely. “Why do you think it would ruin things?”

He took a deep breath, the vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he finally met her gaze. “Because when I sleep with someone, I lose track of... what’s real and what’s not. It always starts out fine, but I mess things up. I make it complicated, and then it all falls apart. And I don’t want that to happen with you.”

She studied him for a moment, seeing the weight behind his words, the sincerity he rarely showed to anyone. This wasn’t the over-the-top, scandal-filled Dieter Bravo the world knew. This was a man who was genuinely afraid of ruining something good.

“Wow,” she muttered, trying to break the heaviness. “So you’re saying I was basically a goner if we hadn’t talked that first night?”

He chuckled, giving her a teasing grin. “Oh, absolutely.”

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You really are full of yourself.”

“No, I’m just honest,” he said with a playful smirk. “But really, I don’t want to just fuck this up. You get me, more than anyone has in a long time. And I don’t want to lose that because I was... impulsive.”

She looked at him for a long moment, their earlier banter giving way to something deeper. It was clear that he meant every word, and it made sense in a way she hadn’t expected. Dieter Bravo might have been a disaster in relationships, but he was choosing not to be a disaster with her. And that meant something.

“Well,” she said, her smile returning as she reached for another fry, “that’s good to know. I mean, you’re still a complete disaster, but you’re my kind of disaster.”

Dieter’s grin widened, the tension finally easing as he leaned back in his seat. “I’ll take it.”

She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then added with a smirk, “Besides, now I’m legally being paid to not fuck you.”

He laughed, throwing his head back in genuine amusement. “And I’m legally paying you to not fuck me.”

She nodded sagely. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal if you ask me.”

Dieter chuckled, the heaviness of the earlier conversation replaced by their usual playful energy. “Yeah, it’s working out pretty well so far.”

They both sat there, comfortable in the aftermath of the conversation, knowing that while the chemistry between them was undeniable, the friendship was what mattered most. And neither of them was willing to risk it, even if they joked about it.

They sat in the car, the remnants of their Five Guys feast scattered on the console between them. The night had slipped into a comfortable quiet, the kind that came from hours of laughter, honest conversation, and greasy burgers. Dieter stretched, glancing over at her with a lazy grin.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, wiping his hands on a napkin. “You heading home now?”

She nodded, finishing the last of her fries. “Yeah. Gotta pack up my stuff and get ready for the big move.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Right. Moving in with me. Never thought I’d reach this point in my life where a woman’s moving in with me... and I legally can’t fuck her.”

She snorted, shaking her head as she leaned back into her seat. “Welcome to adulthood, Bravo. Full of responsibilities and boundaries.”

Dieter’s grin widened, leaning a little closer. “So, about this moving in thing—are you planning on, like, wearing layers of clothing at all times? Because I don’t need to make this harder for myself than it already is.”

She shot him a look, deadpan. “Harder for yourself?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know what I mean.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. “Listen, I promise to be fully covered in the ugliest, most unflattering pajamas you’ve ever seen. Think, like, thermal underwear, oversized sweaters, maybe a balaclava if I’m feeling extra considerate.”

Dieter threw his head back laughing, slapping the dashboard. “Jesus Christ, I don’t know if I should be grateful or terrified.”

“Both,” she said with a smirk, grabbing the last fry from the bag and popping it into her mouth.

Dieter leaned back, sighing contentedly. “I still can’t believe it though. I’m actually gonna live with a woman. And she’s not some wild fling, but an assistant I’m paying not to fuck. Talk about a plot twist.”

She laughed, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Well, you better get used to it. I’ll be back in the morning with all my crap.”

Dieter grinned, clearly amused by the whole situation. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she said, flashing him a smile. “Bright and early. So you better get your beauty sleep.”

He chuckled, looking at her fondly. “I’ll try.”

She reached for the door handle, pausing for a moment before looking back at him, her tone soft but teasing. “Try not to miss me too much tonight, alright?”

Dieter winked. “No promises.”

She stepped out of the car, waving as she walked toward her building. “See you tomorrow, Bravo.”

He watched her go, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, leaning back into the seat. “See you tomorrow.”

[krysmcscience]

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

[viewerspookyhappenings]

okay buckle up chuckle fucks here is everything i remember from tonight (absolutely missing some stuff)

- before dan comes on he introduces himself over the speaker stating that he asked phil to do it and phil said no because he didn’t want to be sat behind a curtain for an hour

- dan comes on stage and stands in the big church plinth thing (iconic)

- he tells a story about how he went to a&e the day before yesterday because he had sore eyes. says phil was trying to get him to put eye drops in but he was being very dramatic so whilst on the phone to 111 phil knelt over him lying on the bathroom floor holding his eyes open to put drops in. dan then went to hospital to check it and everything’s fine (lol) he just needed some special eyedrops. phil did not accompany him and dan had to cross a dual carriageway on his own whilst not being able to see well (i doubt he will ever let it go)

- here is a diagram i drew on the way home to depict said event

- it is also giving this

- spoke about the butt chair. union chapel said they did not have any furniture for him to borrow so he had to bring his own - he bought the butt chair from his bedroom and a lil plant to decorate. said phil carried the plant to the car but made dan get the chair in the uber and then said “okay have fun at work sweetie” (this was said jokey but we died nonetheless)

- he then talks about pissyourselffordan trending and how he had to explain to harper collins what the actual fuck was happening on stan twt. apparently they were glad the fans were supportive and he has an engaged audience but they were not going to use the hashtag in the promo. called the whole scenario pissgate and the crowd chanted piss at him

- he was told there was wine and advertised wine before realising alcohol was not allowed in the church. he then got given a sprite and everyone screamed that it was piss

- talked about the book and the previous release, how weird covid was, talked about the photoshoot for the book cover and the graphic design. said he didn’t love the pics because they were super dramatic. someone shouted “it’s cunty” he replies: “oh it’s cunty is it?” then realises he said cunty in a church which was a big lol

- he then read the new chapters, several mentions of phil not being supportive and abandoning him at the hospital (he talked about phil a lot it was very sweet)

- then brought out dan’s slit (box used to put questions in before the show)

- the questions i can remember include but are not limited to:

- what was the weirdest position you wrote the book in: “cheeks out in an armchair curled up over my laptop, you might think your scrolling posture is okay now but when you hit thirty you will all be broken”

- fave comfort show: “the office - is the office a bit millennial? it isn’t as millennial as friends. ross being offended by a manny? that’s where my internalised homophobia is from”

- how has the gaming channel affected your mental health? A: he is finding it a lot more sustainable than before because of help with editing, but will see where it goes

- will he ever judge drag race: he didn’t want to when he was asked because he didn’t want to be exposed to more speculation about his sexuality at the time, same with strictly come dancing

- how do you cope with feeling lonely whilst surrounded by people: talked about how online friends are truly real friends and distance doesn’t have to determine friendship levels. says it is important to notice the friendships even that aren’t close

- i can’t remember the question but he said that phil has to remind him of some of the stuff that is in ywgttn when he struggles “i literally learnt the word catastrophising from your book dan come on”

- another tour? “do you guys want that” *screaming* “what would it be?” *dan and phil games screams* “well 👀👀”

- are we going to get more sister daniel: *everyone loses their minds* “maybe i should have done it for the church but it is far too exposing under the spotlight”

- did you work in the asda in Lower Earley: “what in the baby reindeer? yes i did”

- then went to the insta questions that were too inappropriate for the audiobook including

- piss

- will you wear wigs

- when will you wear wigs

- how long is your big toe “six centimetres - i don’t have a big toe im just a long person”

- pee pee poo poo time

- what were the other names for the book: “you will get through this was a bit cliche, you will get through this night? she is sexy and mysterious. at first we wanted to call it “you are messed up read this to fix your issues” but then realised the book was more serious in tone after it was finished so went with ywgttn instead”

- i genuinely can’t remember most of these i think i dissociated a lil at this point if anyone remembers please add

- then read the author’s note at the end of the paper back, talking about how lockdown impacted him and was a big scary thing and also how incredible it is to see people recommend it, find it useful, have therapists recommend it etc. “it is an honour to have created this”

- took a selfie with everyone

- someone gave him a bouquet of flowers and he said “aww you guys are so gay”

- then said “if you enjoyed seeing me in person… i’ll see you again very soon”

this is everything i remember off the top of my head so people please feel free to add what i have forgotten!!

and here are all the pics i got!!

[the-merry-otter]

If you’re on mobile, you may have to click on the images for better quality!

Plain text version with image descriptions is under the cut.

Please note that the image descriptions will be reflecting what I am trying to convey with the photo, rather than the total look of the photo itself. For example if I am trying to describe a dress, the hair colour of the person wearing it will be ignored. This is to reduce the total word count of the descriptions, because I have a lot of images to describe. On this note, I have also streamlined the information as much as possible.

[Plain text description:]

First slide: Mariota’s Guide to 14th Century (Medieval) Women’s Clothing

This slideshow is brought to you by @the-merry-otter on tumblr

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP MOTHERS AND FUCKERS. I’m bored, so today we’re going to be talking about medieval clothing. Specifically fourteenth century English clothing because that’s what I’m good at. (Source: trust me bro I’m a reenacter). Also this is all female stuff - sorry masc leaning folks, I’ll get to you someday!

Disclaimer: this is not completely comprehensive or nuanced in the slightest, it’s just a quick overview guide. Do your own research xoxo.

[Image ID: to the left is a picture of a woman in a light blue dress and a pink hood gazing out at a lake. The hood has a skirt that falls over her shoulders, and there is along thin pipe attached to the back of the hood that dangles to her knees. The edges of the hood are decorated with burgundy crochet. The picture is captioned “beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, literal goals.” End ID]

[Image ID: To the right is a picture of a typical renn faire outfit. It has a white poofy underdress, a black corset, and a brown skirt. There is a red cross drawn over the image. It is captioned “very pretty, but definitely not medieval sorry!” End ID]

Second slide: Underwear (ooh la la)

Now with nasty pocketses

[Image ID: a picture of gollum, from lord of the rings, snarling in disgust. There is a line in The Hobbit where he asks Bilbo what he has in his nasty little pocketses, which is what I am referencing. End ID]

So, corsets, stays, and shapewear in general kind of wasn’t a thing yet. So your underwear was a shift, which was awesome because it was also your pajamas. They were usually made of linen, though some might have been made of cotton is you were rich.

[Image ID: A plain white linen garment laid out flat on the floor. It is a dress that hangs to about knee length, with elbow length sleeves. An arrow points to it with text reading “this is a shift”. End ID]

There is evidence for supportive shifts for busy support, like this one from the fourteenth century!

[Image ID: a second shift, worn by a female presenting person. It is laced up the front, and is a lot tighter and more fitted, especially around the bust. It has straps instead of sleeves. End ID]

There’s also this bra like fragment found in Austria, but that is a whole debate so.

[Image ID: A bra-like garment fitted to a mannequin. It seems to be made out of white linen, coloured with time. The left cup is damaged, and overall the garment looks incomplete. End ID]

Then, over the shift, yet under your main dress went your pockets, which tied on at the waist. Your dresses had slits do that you could get at your stuff without flashing everyone lol.

[Image ID: A picture of medieval pockets. They are upside down teardrop shaped, but the point is flat and is part of the waist ties. There are slits in the side up the top to access the inside. They are cream coloured with bright floral embroidery. The caption reads “these bad boys can fit so many cool pebbles.” End ID]

[Image ID: A young female-presenting person wearing medieval clothing. She has her hands in the pocket slits of her dress. They are just below hip height. End ID]

Third slide: your dress, or the cotehardie. (Pronounced coat hardy)

Over the shift you put your dress, sometimes referred to as either a kirtle or cotehardie. 14th century people started actually form-fitting their clothes more than previous centuries. These needed fastenings, which were mostly lacings (spiral lacings specifically), or buttons made of either metal or cloth, used at the front of the dress from neckline to waist, and on the sleeves from elbow to wrist, with exceptions of course.

(Sidenote: fuck sleeves, all my homies hate sleeves)

[Image ID: a woman in a warm yellow dress to the left of the text. The dress is constructed simply, with a single piece of fabric used for the length of the body so there is no waist seam. The skirt is widened by inserting four triangles, one each at the front and back, and one on each side. The front has buttons made of the same fabric as the dress, that go down to the belt at the waist. The sleeves have similar buttons from wrist to elbow, on the outside of the arm. The woman is also wearing a liripipe hood. End ID]

Dresses seemed to be mostly wool, though I often use linen for mine because I live in Australia and it’s hot in summer and I don’t want to die. Most often they weren’t lined (that is what the underwear was for).

[Image ID: in the top left of the slide is a woman wearing a green woollen dress. It is constructed the same as the previous image, except it has spiral lacing on the front instead of buttons. The sleeves are fastened by three small buttons. She is wearing a simple and veil. End ID]

[Image ID: the top right of the slide shows a woman in a teal coloured dress, similar to the one before. This one has metal buttons at the sleeves and down the front. She wears a veil only. End ID]

The neckline of these dresses was usually round or an oval shape, and some manuscripts have it so wide that it falls off the shoulders slightly.

[Image ID: A photo of a medieval manuscript, depicting six medieval ladies in a row holding hands. The neckline of their dresses is wide enough that the tops of their shoulders are visible. The image is captioned “me and the girls on a Friday night”. End ID]

Clothing was a lot more colourful than the movies would have us believe lol.

[Image ID: Three women, each in dresses similar to the ones before. To the left is a forest green, the middle one is bright saffron yellow, and the one to the right is a vibrant tomato red. End ID].

Fourth slide: Dress two; electric boogaloo

[Image ID: Merry and Pippin from lord of the rings. Above them, meme text reads “we’ve had one, yes”, and then continues below with “but what about second dress?”. End ID]

You could also wear an overdress, which was usually of a contrasting colour and had shorter sleeves.

As well as fashion, they would have been used for extra warmth, and so were usually made of wool.

[Image ID: a woman in a maroon coloured dress like the ones on the previous slide. The sleeves stop just above her elbow, revealing a blue dress underneath. End ID].

Common people would have only owned a couple of different outfits, as fabric was super expensive.

[Image ID: various pictures of women with examples of an overdress. They are all constructed the same as the overdress, but with shorter sleeves that reveal a second sleeve of a different colour underneath. End ID]

A common late thirteenth to mid fourteenth century overdress was the ladies surcoat, which had big holes instead of sleeves.

Belts would have been worn underneath the surcoat.

[Image ID: three photos of women wearing surcoats. They are normal dresses, except there is a large D shape cut out of either side, leaving a large hole from the shoulder to below the hip. They have no buttons down the front. One of the surcoats is made of red brocade, and obviously belongs to an upper-class impression. End ID].

Fifth slide: Hair and headwear

Hair was worn braided and pinned up, with a coif (cap) and either a wimple or veil, or both. The wimple and/or veil were usually pinned to the coif, or secured on a band of fabric around the head.

Veils would be either oval, or a D shape. Wimples were rectangular. A wimple goes under the chin and a veil goes over your head.

[Image ID: a close up of a woman wearing a wimple. It is made of a light fabric, likely silk. The wimple wraps under her chin and is secured at the back of her head. A narrow band of fabric or possibly leather circles her brow, which would have been used to secure the wimple. End ID.]

[Image ID: A picture of YouTuber Morgan Donner wearing a wimple and veil. The wimple wraps under her chin, and the veil is placed on top of her head, draping down past her shoulders. It does not cover her face. Loops of hair are visible either side of her face. End ID]

All the headwear would be made of linen, thin wool, or silk, depending on class. The veils could also be made really fancy by ruffling the front edge or by attaching pearls.

[Image ID: a woman in a wimple and half-circle veil. The edge of the veil that frames her face is elaborately ruffled. The edge of a coif is visible under the veil. End ID]

I ride the bus in my medieval gear a lot because of events, and way too many people think I’m Amish because of my veil. It’s honestly just funny at this point. I should keep a tally.

[Image ID: a woman wearing a St Birgitta’s coif, pinning a wimple at the back of her head. The coif is a simple white linen cap that encloses the head, with a line of lace down the centre of the head. It is secured with a loop of linen around the head. End ID].

[Image ID: a picture of someone with plaits that have been pinned around the head like a crown. It is captioned “you could also pin your hair up like this”. End ID]

Working women might have just wrapped their head in a scarf instead, fuck this fancy shit right?

[Image ID: a woman in a headscarf that has been twisted and then looped around the front of her head. It is captioned #girlboss. End ID].

Fake braids were a thing! Blonde hair in particular was very fashionable, and bleaching or fake braids were sometimes used to achieve that.

[Image ID: two fake braids made of a coarse fibre. They are blonde in colour, and are looped like a hairstyle seen on many of the reenactors. They have white ribbons attached to the top end to help secure them to the head. End ID]

Sixth slide: Cloaks and hoods

These would have actually been two seperate garments! Integrated hoods on cloaks didn’t actually become a thing until the … seventeenth century or so? (Citation needed).

Cloaks were a lot simpler than the typical cloak we think of nowadays. Often they were just a rectangle of wool, or by the fourteenth century, sometimes a half circle.

They were almost always wool as far as I know, and were generally fastened by a cloak pin or buttons.

[Image ID: a metal cloak pin. It is a circle with a small opening at one point. A long pin is attached via a loop, allowing it to slide along the pin. It can fit through the opening in the circle. To use one, you would gather the fabric on the pin, and then slot the circle over the pin and then turn it, so the fabric is trapped between circle and pin. This is much easier to demonstrate than describe. The picture is captioned “these bad boys are the real MVP’s though”. End ID].

[Image ID: a diagram showing the construction of the bocksten man cloak. It is a half circle pieced together by laying strips of fabric together. In the centre of the flat side, a half circle is cut out for the neck. End ID]

[Image ID: a reconstruction of the bocksten man cloak. It is orange wool, and lined with an off-white linen. It is fastened on the right shoulder by three fabric buttons. It would fall to just above the wearers knees. End ID].

Women’s hoods could be short and open, or with a longer skirt and closed with buttons. Liripipe (pronounced leery-pipe) hoods were named for the tube of fabric that dangled off the back of your hood, varying in length. As well as a fashion statement, it could also be wrapped around the neck like a scarf if it got cold.

Hoods were nearly always wool I’m pretty sure, though they were often lined with linen, silk, or cotton.

[General description: a short liripipe hood would be open, with the bottom only reaching your shoulders. They were made from a single piece of fabric that would wrap over your head, with the seam down the centre back of your head. It was flared at the bottom by inserting triangular gores. At the front edge near your face there would be a strip jutting out that went from one side of your chin, over your head, and down to the other side. This would usually be folded back, revealing the lining colour. The bottom of the hood could either just reach the base of your neck, or reach down to just past your shoulders. The former would usually be open at the front, with fastenings optional. The latter option with the longer skirt was almost always able to be fastened up the front with fabric buttons. The liripipe itself was a thin flat tube of fabric fastened at the centre top back of the hood. End ID]

Fun fact, 90% of why I decided to reenact the fourteenth century specifically was because of liripipe hoods.

Seventh slide: Feet (not in a weird way)

Hose were used to keep your legs warm. For women they were usually knee height, and fastened just underneath it with a garter or tie.

[Image ID: a single light yellow hose, belted beneath the knee with a leather garter. The seam is down the centre back of the leg going all the way to your toes, and then around the top of the foot in front of where it connects to your leg. End ID]

Hose usually would have been made from wool, and were cut on the diagonal (bias) of the fabric to get the maximum stretch possible from the fabric. They still were looser than modern tights are though!

Knitted socks were also a thing I’m pretty sure, but I don’t know enough about them. Sorry!

Shoes were simple, usually referred to as turnshoes because of how they were made. Fun fact: the lack of foot support means that turnshoes are similar to going barefoot in terms of how you walk. Some reenactors love it, some hate it, and some are indifferent lol.

[Image ID: a pair of turnshoes made of dark leather. They have a strap that would fasten around the front of the ankle, similar to some modern shoes. The toes are pointed, and it is captioned “pointy toes were fashionable, especially for men”. End ID].

Because shoes were really hard to waterproof, (ask me how I know), and didn’t have solid soles, wooden pattens (pronounced pat-tens) were worn to keep you off the ground while outside.

[Image ID: a person wearing a pair of wooden pattens over their shoes, standing on a drenched cobblestone street. They are wooden platforms with an archway on the bottom, and are attached to the foot with leather straps around the toe, ankle, and around the back of the heel, similar to modern sandals. The image is captioned “ye old crocs”. End ID].

[Image ID: a woman’s leg with the skirts drawn back, revealing the bright yellow hose underneath. It is fastened below the knee with a strip of fabric. She wears a turnshoe with a buckled strap. End ID]

Eighth slide: Accessories

These are a few other items that might have made up a working woman’s outfit.

Aprons would definitely have been used while working. One were just a large rectangle of cloth tucked into the belt, some were smocked to draw in the fabric. They generally stopped at the waist.

[Image ID: a woman in a red dress, with a very light brown apron. It is smocked at the top, and is attached around the waist with a string. End ID].

Pretty broaches and other jewellery existed! There was cheaper stuff made of pewter for the lower classes.

[Image ID: five gold brooches, studded with different jewels and pearls. End ID].

They had a funny sense of humour as well… and they weren’t all prudes.

[Image ID: a pewter broach of a cat carrying a dick and balls in its mouth. It is captioned “you can actually buy these. I know a website.” End ID].

Eating knives were worn on the belt, though it is debated whether women would have carried one. I do because I’m a modern fourteenth century woman.

[Image ID: a small knife with a wooden handle, laying on top of a leather sheath that has been dyed red. End ID]

Belts are a curiously debated topic. Some people reckon that women would have definitely worn them, others say they they weren’t used by women much at all. As far as I know there are depictions of both, so choose what you’d prefer. They are great for hanging stuff on I gotta say.

[Image ID: a coiled up brown leather belt. The buckle and tip are a gold metal, and it has decorative flower studs along its length in the same metal. End ID]

Pretty little purses would have probably been worn. I don’t know enough about them to say anything else though.

[Image ID: two different pictures of reenactors wearing purses. One is brocade and the other a red fabric. They are in the shape of an upright triangle, and both have five tassels hanging from the bottom edge. They hang off the belt with long drawstrings. Unrelated to the purses, one of the women is wearing a gorgeous orange liripipe hood, that is embroidered and dagged on the bottom skirt edge. End ID]

Ninth slide: Fancy Shmancy

There is a lot I haven’t covered, especially in the realm of the upper classes. Here is some of what has been missed. (Buckle up because this section is very image heavy. I will be as concise as possible).

Heraldic dresses! If you are interested, go check out Morgan Donners video on YouTube.

[Image ID: a picture of Morgan Donner in her heraldic dress. One half of the dress is red, and the other is green, except for where it has been cut out by white with an ermine pattern on it. Her hair is unbound and uncovered, except by a small flower crown. It is captioned “Morgan bestie do your hair properly :(“. End ID]

[Image ID: a drawing of two women in heraldic dresses. The first has a blue right half with a yellow printed design. The top left of the dress is yellow with a blue fish, and the bottom left is red with a white fish. Her train is held by the second lady, who’s dress is blue on the right, and white with green birds on the left. End ID].

Fancy headpieces for rich bitches only.

[Image ID: a reenactor doing a high class impression. Her hair is bound up in Pearl studded hair nets on either side of her head like modern earmuffs, with a spiked coronet around her brow. She has a sheer silk wimple on. End ID]

Fancy dagged edged on hoods, sleeves, dresses, etc.

[Dagging description: where the edge has been cut away to make decorative dangly bits. One hood has red leaves around the bottom edge for example, and another just has a pretty geometric pattern. End description].

Brocade gowns! So pretty!

[Image ID: several different pictures of high class ladies wearing brocade gowns of different colours. These are similar to the wool dresses we were looking at earlier, but with longer trains, and often long draping sleeves. There is even a brocade surcoat. End ID]

Fancy sleeves!

[Image ID: examples of different long sleeves. On some, the sleeve is normal until the elbow, and then it falls away to a long strip of fabric that dangles to the ground. Not mentioned on the slide itself is tippets, which was a band of (usually white) fabric just above your elbow, with a thin strip of the same fabric that draped down to the floor. End ID].

Dresses that were two different colours.

[Image ID: examples of dresses that are exactly like the earlier wool dresses, except they are literally half one colour and half another. The manuscript example is a blue and red overdress with fancy sleeves, and the reenactor example is a yellow and green underdress with a red hood. End ID]

And of course, some of the funky fun fabric choices.

[Image ID: a manuscript depiction of a woman carrying a dead bird. Her hood is red and white striped horizontally, and her dress is dark and light blue striped, also horizontally. End ID].

[Image ID: a manuscript depicting a woman talking to a second lady in a chair. The dress on the first has horizontal stripes of white, red, yellow, and blue, repeated, and the second has horizontal stripes of white, pink, and light blue. Interestingly enough the latter colours are very similar to the transgender flag which would make a very cool dress project. Hmm. End ID].

Tenth (and final) slide: In summery

(Small red text below title reads “I hope you have enjoyed” with a drawn smiling face).

Dis you notice all the “usually” “commonly” and “often’s” in there? That’s because I cannot possibly illustrate everything that we know of the time in only ten slides, nor do I know everything, so I have just tried to show what seems to be the most depicted.

Note: I probably even got some stuff wrong by the way.

If you’re interested in this stuff, I really recommend doing your own research now! Hopefully I have given you a good overview of what a fourteenth century womens outfit might have looked like, so now you can go fourth and know what you’re looking for.

If you have any questions about costuming, reenactment, or anything else, feel free to contact me!! I respond on Timblr decently fast ☺️

[Image ID: a reenactor sitting on a log, staring into the distance with a slight smile. She is wearing a grey-blue dress, belted at the waist with a small purse dangling from it. She has a dark blue cape and a light blue hood, that has fallen back to show a ruffled white veil. There is a pewter broach on her hood. A leather turnshoe peeks out from beneath the hem of her dress. End ID]

A list of helpful YouTubers:

Elin Abrahamsson

Morgan Donner

Opus Elenae

Miss Joss (her instagram is more active).

Now go hydrate!!

[Image ID: a woman in fourteenth century garb drinking from a jug. End ID]

[mikeystrawberry]

Today is Dungeons & Daddies’s 5th Anniversary!

I haven’t been listening for nearly that long but the podcast and all its characters means a lot to me. Happy Anniversary!!!

Throwing the cropped sections under the cut because there’s a lot of stuff going on and I know Tumblr likes to throw half the pixel quality out the window. And also so I can ramble a bit about this piece!!!

This piece has been months in the making, possibly an entire year. And by that I mean I’ve had a sketch of the comp scribbled on my whiteboard for ages because I wanted to save this specifically for 5th anni art. Now onto design stuff!

(First off a random thought: I really love how the garlic knot came out, I kind of want it as an enamel pin.)

I knew I wanted to make this a stained glass piece since the beginning, but I was also going to add flowers at one point but quickly dropped the idea. It felt like too much and I also didn’t want to fuss over flower language assignments for everyone. I was also going to add Doodler tentacles, but also dropped that idea pretty early. Kind of on accident, right at the end, I figured out how to make it even more stained glass-like but taking a duplicated lineart underneath the regular layer and turning the brightness all the way down, then setting it to overlay and adding a guassian blur. It’s very subtle but it adds that tiny bit of depth that makes it look more real. As for shading on the lineart/gold, I tried adding more highlight on the characters who died but once I evened everything out it wasn’t as noticeable anymore so I’m throwing that thought here so the attempt at least known lol.

The order of characters only changed a little bit from my original comp, I flipped the Wilsons and the Oaks so the rainbow could work. As for the anchors, specifically in season 2, I lined them up to the teens since the season 1 anchors lined up with each dad:

Tony —> Scary: his death was the beginning of Scary’s betrayal arc and also Willy killed him.

Guitar Pick —> Taylor: it’s not really aligned with Taylor at all, but the anchor was with Glenn so I put it next to his blunt.

Scroll —> Normal: was only because it was the last left to give him, but there’s the whole scene of him and Hermie in the Green Room so it still works!

Garlic Knot —> Link: one of two that he broke, but the more significant of the two with him telling Grant he never wants to see him again.

Small notes on the season 1 anchors: I put the layer of mold in the overnight oats but you can’t really tell with the overlay. And to make the supper bowl more interesting I added the fantasy sodas mix they dumped into it. The lure of actually drawn before so I just traced my own art lol.

As for the other smaller triangles, it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to put there. I didn’t even think of adding the vehicles until two days ago but I’m so glad I did. I don’t really have my own take on the mascot version of the Doodler (yet?) so I borrowed the design from one of the stickers in their merch shop. Teeny was terrifying as just a front facing head so I made him cute again.

In the outer circles, I put what I felt was the most significant quotes for each family. I really wanted to use “It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to be cruel” but it was just a little too long.

That’s all I can think of! If you read all the way through, thank you for indulging me in my excitement to gush over this piece.

[deanssluvr]

MAKE ME FAITHFUL

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

summary: joost always makes valentines so special for you every year, but this time he was stressed and busy. so now it’s your turn to make his day just a bit better.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: MDNI. SMUT. RPF. handjob. oral (m! receiving). needy/sub!joost. slightly proofread.

a/n: back to writing smut because it's a minute lol. seen a few people write about this and have been dying to do it myself. hope you guys enjoy it. <3

Although Valentine’s Day was one of your favorite holidays, it felt less special this time than others. Joost, your boyfriend of four years, has always tried to make the day memorable. From his attempts at home-cooked dinners to taking you to local spots he knows you’d enjoy, he has always made this day special for you. But now you were in your kitchen, alone, ordering yourself dinner. 

You weren’t mad about him missing today. Your boyfriend’s job has its ups and downs, like being busy on Valentines. He’d been gone since you woke up. It was quite early when you opened your eyes and the sun was peering in through the window, beckoning for you to start your morning. You moved from under your covers and felt the cold air blow over your skin. Shivering slightly, you pick up your phone looking at the notifications.

i’m really sorry liefje (love) I couldn’t be here today. got a lot of stuff to do before the tour. I left something in the living room for you. hope you like it. 

You smiled warmly at the message. You got out of bed, the rug shielding your feet from the cold floor. You walked over to your closet slipped into some slippers and threw on one of Joost’s jackets. Stepping out into the living room, a familiar smell was in the air and it put a smile on your face. Looking on the coffee table you saw a bag of breakfast from your favorite restaurant, an assortment of your favorite flowers neatly sitting in a beautiful vase, and a small, pink stuffed bear leaning against it. You walked over to it, grazing your fingers over the flowers. They were your favorite and he only got them for you on special occasions, like today. Picking one up, you noticed there was a small note attached to it. You opened the small paper. On it read an apology from your boyfriend. Although he couldn’t be here, he still wanted your day to be special.

And now it was roughly nine o’clock at night and still no sign of him. You were starting to think you’d fall asleep before you saw him. After successfully ordering your food, you walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. Your phone vibrated in your hand and you looked at it with some sort of anticipation, hoping that it was him saying that he was on his way or almost home. But the feeling left quickly as you see it was just an Instagram notification. You groaned and laid back on the couch, your head resting on the armrest. The silence of the house wasn’t helping to ease your mind but managed to make it worse. Your thoughts were starting to conflict with each other as the idea of being mad at him started to become more acquainted with the front of your mind. Choosing to break the silence, you picked up the remote that sat on the coffee table and turned on the TV. 

Soon your food had arrived and it was now ten o’clock. Though the hours were passing rather quickly, the idea of seeing Joost before you went to sleep kept your mind awake. The random romcom you had turned on was also helping. Ironically the movie took place on Valentine’s Day. It was one of your favorite movies to watch on this holiday, but this time felt sour. As embarrassing as it felt to admit, watching a fictional couple spend the day together unlike you made you feel worse. Like a small jab to your heart. But you watched the movie anyway as it was beloved to you. You had finished your food a little over halfway through the movie. You gathered all of your trash and made your way to the kitchen where you dumped it all. You leaned on the counter, phone in your hand. You opened his contact and your finger hovered over the call button. Every minute that passed made you worry more and more and his lack of communication was making it worse. But you hesitate anyway because he could still be busy, maybe his phone died, or he left it somewhere. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your front door being unlocked. You walked around the counter and watched in anticipation as the door was pushed open. You feel the negative thoughts and worries wash away as he walks in. He walked in as if in a haze. His head was pointing to the floor and he walked with heavy footsteps. He hadn’t noticed you until he was only a few feet away from you. His eyes were quick to find yours. He smiled lovingly and you watched as his body visibly relaxed. He gently cupped your cheeks with his hands, his eyes scanning your face as if seeing you anew. You raised one of your hands to cover his, your warmth contrasting with the coolness of his fingers. He softly pulled you into a kiss. It was sweet the way his lips danced with yours. Your hands rested on his hips and your fingers played with the hem of the soft fabric. He pulled away first with a pained expression.

“I’m so so sorry schat (baby). I really wanted to be here with you today.” His hands were still settled on both sides of your face and his thumb rubbed softly against your cheek. “Please forgive me. I promise I’m gonna make it up to you.” 

You shook your head, “It’s okay. I know how busy you get.” you give him a reassuring smile. “Plus the gift you left for me this morning makes up for it.” 

He let out a breath of relief, “I’m happy you liked it.” 

He was still tense and you could tell. An idea quickly pops into your head to help him relax. Once again the distance closed between you two, but you initiated it. This time there was something different and he noticed. The way your lips hungrily latched onto his. He melted into you completely, letting you take control. Your hands slipped under his shirt, feeling the cold, bare skin beneath. The warmth of your fingers against him sent shivers down his spine. Your kisses trailed from his lips to his cheek and down his neck. He hummed in response. 

“I think it’s time that I gave you my gift.” You spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. Your warm breath against his ear sent goosebumps across his skin. The bulge in his pants became more apparent as he lightly rutted against your thigh letting you know how desperately he craved for you. Normally he could hold himself together, especially in front of you. But after the long day he’s had, he doesn’t have the strength to. His brain was too fogged and all he could make of it was how painfully hard he was. He wanted to tell you how much he wanted to feel you, hear your pretty moans in his ear. But words couldn’t form in his mouth, only pathetic whimpers would breeze past his lips. So instead you get to see him like this. Breathing heavily against your skin, quietly begging for your touch. He looked at you through dazed eyes and you could’ve melted right there. Instead, you took one of his hands in yours and walked him into the living room. 

You pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him to sit on the couch. You sunk to your knees, and he pulled his shirt off and threw it somewhere on the floor. He instinctively spreads his legs allowing you to come closer. Your hands ran over his thighs and came up to his belt buckle. He watched as your hands worked his pants and pulled them down. Once they were at his ankles, you looked over at his boxers. His cock was begging to be freed from his boxers. Your hands came to rub on his thighs again and you felt how tense he still was. 

“Baby you can relax. Let me care of you.” You cooed and he let out a hesitant breath. He was having trouble relaxing. It was because he was so pent up and you could tell. You moved your hands up his thighs and over his bulge. His breath hitched as he felt the warmth of your hand. You slowly moved it, palming him through his boxers. His cock twitched under your hand. A quiet moan escaped his lips as he leaned his head back on the couch. His hips bucked up because he needed more friction. He quickly looked at you with a slightly panicked expression. As if he was scared you stopped because he moved. And even under the dim light of the room, you swear you could see him mouth the words ‘sorry’. You placed one of your hands on his thigh, your thumb running soft circles into the skin. Silently reassuring him.

You decided you’d tortured him enough and hooked your fingers into the waistline of his boxers. He lifts his hips giving you space to pull them down. You watched as his cock sprung from the tight material. It was slightly red with precum leaking from it, leaving a small, sticky spot on his stomach where it rests. You spit on your hand before wrapping it around the base. His breath hitched. You began to move your hand at an agonizingly slow pace. Breathy moans fell from his lips. You brought your lips down to his thigh, kissing and biting the soft skin. Your kisses trailed to the skin near the base of his cock. Your cheek brushed softly against him sending a shiver down his spine. You planted kisses along the vein that led to his tip. The noises he made slowly became louder and louder the closer to you became. 

“fuck schat (baby). p-please please…” he knew what he wanted but words were failing him. His brain was clouded by pleasure, and the only clear thought he had was you. 

“Please what?” You tilted your head to the side. Your voice was soft, faux innocence laced in your tone. He hesitated before he spoke and tried to regain his thoughts so he could form a coherent sentence.

“I need you. I need to feel more of you,” he begged. His eyes met yours and were glossed over. You never get to see him like this. So needy and desperate. He looked so pretty in these moments you thought to yourself. “Please.”

You didn’t waste any more time before you took him into your mouth, taking in only his tip first. He melted at the sensation, a low groan emitting from his lips. You took in a few more inches and he was quickly losing what was left of his composure. His lip was bleeding from hard he was biting to quiet the noises he was making. It was when you started to hum that a moan slipped out. You thought your name sounded so sweet when it rolled off his tongue in moments like this. His hand was quick to find its way into your hair. He was trying to guide you the way he wanted and take control. But you weren’t having it, so you grabbed his wrist and set his hand back on the couch. Although you didn’t say anything, he still understood. It was a strain not to touch you. He needs to feel something, to ground himself. One hand was gripping the plush fabric of the couch and the other rested on his stomach.

You took in as much of him as you could and used your hand to get what you couldn’t. He watched as his cock disappeared into your mouth. He could’ve came right there at the sight. You brought your head back up just to sink down again. The noises that were coming from him were borderline pornographic. Moans mixed with your name. As you picked up the pace, tears started to form in the corners of his eyes. They fell the closer he got. He was so lost in pleasure. Everything he was thinking about earlier, whatever he was feeling was gone and long forgotten. All he could think about or feel was you and how good he felt because of you.

Quiet pleas started to pour from his mouth as he was getting closer. He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence to let you know he was close. But as if you could read his mind, you knew. You quickened your pace again and your hand was matching your speed. He wanted this. He needed this. He needed to get lost in your touch.  A string of moans mixed with your name was all that could be heard from. You took him fully into your mouth and that was enough to send him over the edge. His hips bucked up into your mouth, pushing himself further into your throat. The world felt as though it stopped spinning as he reached the edge. It struck his body like electricity, and he swore he could see stars. You felt his cock pulsing as you tried to stop yourself from gagging and you felt his cum go down your throat. You let him ride out his high before he pulled himself from your mouth. 

He sat back down on the couch, and saw him finally relax. You looked at him with a smile on your face. He gave you a tired smile in return. You stood up and placed a kiss on his forehead. Your hands found their way into his and you gently pulled him, gesturing him to stand up. He did so and you helped him pull his boxers and pants up. You guided him to your bedroom where you told him to sit.

“I’m going to run a shower for you. Okay?” He nodded tiredly. You placed a small kiss on his lips before disappearing into the bathroom to run some water. When it felt warm enough you walked back out to where he was sitting. He was still in the same spot and was fidgeting with the fabric of his jeans. You brought your hand up to his cheek and your thumb rubbed gently. He leaned into your touch. Taking his hands into yours, you lead him into the bathroom where you both stripped out of your clothes. He followed you in the bathroom where you both get undressed. He immediately stepped inside the shower, letting the warm water run over his body. You were quick to help him get clean and he just leaned into you. He was so exhausted now and you just wanted to get him to bed as quickly as possible. Once you were both finished, you both got dressed and went back into your bedroom. You were first to get into bed and he quickly followed suit. He snuggled close into you, his head resting on your chest. You brought your hand up to run your fingers through his hair.

“Ik hou van jou (i love you),” he mumbled. You can tell he was fighting to stay awake at this point.

“I love you too.” you kissed his forehead before dozing off.

[marsoid]

answering these in one go

i got Sugar off a craigslist ad in 2016. she was listed for $9k but i got her for $8800, the seller knocked down the price literally just because he was nice and could tell i loved the car so much 🥹 my bank wouldn't let me pull out all the cash at once so i drove her home and paid him that Monday which is CRAZY but he trusted me to pay him and i did

when i first got her she didn't have power steering or power brakes (turned like a land yacht and stopped when she felt like it) so that was the first thing to address. fixed the horn and some other minor stuff that needed it. i also made the decision to replace the carburetor with EFI, which is kind of controversial in the classic car world lol but it's more fuel efficient

the EFI i had installed actually gave me the most problems over the years it was ALWAYS having issues and breaking down. but i recently had it reinstalled by someone who is NOT an idiot and I've had no problems for like 2 solid years I'm so fucking glad lol now she's more reliable than ever

she has a 350 small block V8 and auto transmission since she's my daily driver and allows for the smoothest ride possible as a commuter car. i don't race but she is fast lmao. I've never put pedal to metal but I've gotten her up to 80mph before without even flooring it so 😭 she can fucking Go lol. she kind of defaults to 30mph coasting so i have to have my foot on the brake to keep the speed limit in residentials

what else uhhh the cabin smells so good.... i love old car smell. I'm so lucky in her 53 years of being on the road she's apparently never had an owner that smoked inside the car i would have gone crazy if it smelled like cigarettes in there lmao

she has bench seats in the front and back which are like two little sofas. i used to nap back there on breaks when i was still working at a studio.

she has no airbags and you have to tighten the seatbelts yourself. there's an over the shoulder belt and separate waist belt. the passenger shoulder belt you gotta tug on after clicking it bc sometimes it comes loose on its own 😭 she is a death machine with no crumple zone so if i crash i will die 👍🏾 but I'm a very cautious driver and i don't even drive that much sooo IT'S FINE

she is very low tech besides the EFI and if there's ever an engine problem u can literally just look under the hood and mess with stuff until it's fixed. it's very spacious in there with a lot of room to poke around. cars in the 70s were made to last and because they are still so beloved to this day there's endless info online from enthusiasts about fixing stuff that pops up. some companies are still making new parts for classics so we don't have to dig through junkyards when we need replacements... unless u want to ofc, the hunt can be fun too LOL

i get people waving me down daily to ask me what year she is and tell me they used to have a Nova when they were younger or knew someone that did and how much they loved them and IDK IT'S SWEET!! ppl are always so happy to see her......... the antithesis of the cybertruck

thanks for reading here's some thirst traps

[bear-remn]

—shu headcanon's!

hi! I've been thinking a lot lately about the Sakamaki brothers and I came up with some headcanons that maybe you guys can enjoy too, the first one in this series is shu so enjoy! also a little art piece i make during maing this post.

tw: there are some nsfw headcanons!!! if you dont like that content dont read it!

his looks and selfcare

i do think that shuu is very, good looking, shu has that kind of elegant beauty, with his fine face and a straight nose, clearly his eyes are what attract the most attention when you see him for the first time, also shu has a very penetrating and fixed gaze, in addition to the fact that his blue color makes him have a captivating look and sometimes makes people nervous without realizing it, just because of his natural gaze.

even so, shu does not realize how attractive he is, at least not entirely, mostly bc he doesnt take care of his face, like he dont put any cream or special soap on his skin, he is totally the guy that barely wash his face and has a perfect skin.

but i do think that when he wants to, he definetly put sunscreen bc thats what he thinks is makeup for men.

and maybe this is a little... dirty? but i truly belive shu does'nt shower too often, maybe three times a week? or sometimes two, and he does not smell, like too bad, bc he dont sweat for some reason, but does sometimes stink with that smell, when somebody is for too long in a bed... that kind of smell.

and the times he showers he truly takes that shower like if it was his last, ofc is a bubble bath and he puts some candles and music while he just rest in hot water. is shu's private moment with himself. and he loves vanilla and chocolate candles.

and about shaving, he has a happy trail, but cant grow a hole beard, for some reason it just grow under his chin and it bothers him so he shave it right away. and about his body hair it is very thin and not so visible.

talking about skin, something shu needs, is to feel soft things to the touch, like his sheets, he makes his bed all the time and loves the smell of vanila or lavanda the bed has when its recently done, and its the same with his clothes, he needs cotton clothes, if shu feel something that is minimally rough or that makes his skin itchy, he never wears it again or throw it away.

shu does not brush his hair too often, mostly bc its not hard to control and he likes how he looks with messy hair.

i like to think that shu has a wide body, big shoulders and a thick waist, he has a prominent v line, his arms are a little thick too, and his hands are big, but his fingers are more thin and long, as he use to play piano. and he takes care of his nails, doesnt put nail polish but do cuts them and keep them clean.

random stuff

sometimes shu doesnt realize his shirt is inside out, and he realize just when somebody else point it out. but shu dont care.

shu is actually a goosip, so he puts one of his earphones bad just so he can hear what people are talking even if it had nothing to do with him.

and a little secret of him, when shu cant sleep and is alone, he looks at cute/funny (mostly shitpost) videos, memes and photos of animals, shu is totally an animal lover.

on his vacations shu loves to watch a reallity shows, he loves drama of famous people, but ofc shu doesnt talk about this with anyone. and definetly watch them when he eats. not too often tho, it has to be a really good show.

shu has a record collection in his room, next to a wall full of vinyls of his favorite music, he doesn't use them much but enjoys collecting them.

and bc of his childhood he is actually really smart but bc he is miserable and lazy he just dont show it nor in his life or in the academy. and also as a little revenge to his father (who punish him by sending shu to alaska lol).

shu actually dont like human food, he find it boring, but do enjoy eating meat, almost raw, but not too much, bc after that his stomach hurt a little. he does like coffe or hot chocolate sometimes and better when it has milk.

and my favorite little thing about shu, i think shu dont play in consoles, not play station, not xbox, not nintendo, nothing like that. so he only play games in his phone, but not anygame. shu either playes puzzles games or play subway surfers, or both, who knows. and he loves the music of that game, it always stick into his mind when he hears it.

NSFW

so, shus dick... is great, maybe too dirty of me to say but u truly belive that shu has a pretty dick, like maybe more thick than normal, with two prominent veins and heavy balls. and its a little biger than average, probably like 19 cm. i had to say it.

also, i belive shu is a switch, ofc loves to be dominant but also enjoys being dominated, with a limit.

shu loves to tease people in any chance he gets, like, when someone (specially a girl) find out that he likes to hear woman moans as music, he tease them to make them nervous like "what? would you prefer me to just hear you? want me to make you moan? hehe". or when a girl is wearing something too revealing too close to him, like he sees someone underwear or a little peak of her chest shu be such an ass "wanting to show me something? how lewd of a woman you are huh" all of that with his sly smirk.

he flirts in a very... one of a kind, like he teases but also like to make physical contact, at firts he just do it in a way to make the other person nervous but with the time he craves the physical contact, he loves feeling his skin touch another skin, what makes him sleep naked.

shu is more perverted than laito canonically, but i think that shu is more romantic about it, like put passion in it, you can feel the conection with him when having sex. specially bc he loves making eye contact and touch everything he can. he craves to melt into your skin and its really intense. he holds you with possessiveness, hard and intense. almost needy, but shu isnt like quick and fast or desesperate. he is more the kind of sloow and deep, nice and steady. kind of guy.

and bc of his intense desire, he loves foreplay, and best of it, he knows how to do it right, i just know he can read people to know what someone like to make them weak. he also loves kissing, tongue. theeth and lips, he have to kiss at every moment, and if you moan into his mouth he just gets worked up. he would definetly make you grind on his leg while kissing. clearly he does the leg thing, he know things.

shu is a big fan of 69, like he loves to get sofocated while you suck him, and he does it right, loves to play with your clit like crazy, but he isnt rough, but if you ask for him to be more rough he get into it, until youre fucking trembling. and he expect you to cum in his face, afterwards he is happy just to be there.

and his favorite position in bed is either cowgirl or spoonign, firts bc he like when you take control, and seconds, he gets to hold you and be close to you and not making too much effort.

in the case of cowgirl, he loves pushing up to go deeper, and all of that while watching you face, damn he loves it. also likes to hold you waist, and watch you support your body with your hands on his legs, that way he can see better your boobs as you move. when he is close he bites his bottom lip so hard just bc he wants to see you how you cum as well, literally make you look into his eyes while doing it. and if he can, shu will sit up just to kiss you and and look into your eyes up close. he loves to intimidate you with his gaze.

"cmon... keep looking at me... dont take your pretty eyes off mine..."

and if you refuse to lok at him, shu would hold you face to make your eyes meet his.

and in the case of spooning, he grabs you close, like if shu wants to get into your skin, would hold onto your tits or your belly with one hand while he other is in your neck, making you look back at him while he trust into you deep and nice. would kiss your shoulder, your neck, your back, any little part of your skin that is close to him, he would kiss it gently, and if shu speed up a little, you would hear his hot breaths in your ear, occacionally biting it.

"fuck... you're mine, you know that?... only mine.. say it..."

"you're my woman... hear it?... say it... i want to hear you..."

the aftercare is another story to tell, basically he would be either too lazy to get up or just by luck he has something to clean up in his drawyer. he is the kind of men, that would prefer to stay dirty for a while just to hold you a little longer, definetly tease you for another round or just kiss you softly as he carees you hair or skin.

this man craves you with passion, and its touch starved.

── more of my content here!

[artsybun]

MORE ART BELOW BTW.

I’m putting the rest under the more sign because there’s kinda? S2 spoilers in here? BUT ALSO NOT EXACTLY? IT’S A BIG CANON DIVERGENCE/AU BUT I WANNA BE SAFE.

I apologize for how messy and unorganized some of these doodles will get btw. Also for my handwriting. I had an ADHD induced fever dream one day and woke up to all of THIS mess.

ALSO SOME DISCLAIMERS PLEASE READ:

1. There is some blood below, nothing insanely graphic but jsyk.

2. There will be a doc attached to this post that goes VERY in depth about the story connected here. The images are included on that as well to make following along a bit easier. You don’t have to read it, but you will def get more context lol.

3. There is not a lot of Leosagi or Rise stuff in general here! There’s some mild things in the doc abt them, but most of this is about Yuichi/Miyamoto Usagi bc I love him, yet also love to traumatize him. Sorry king <3. AAAAND it’s a set up to something I have planned in the future that WILL be very leosagi/rise heavy.

4. Welcome to the insanity that is my brain. I apologize now.

Okay, I gotta post this b4 I overthink it too much.

OH! And here’s the doc that explains way too much: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1T99uGllPu08Unbq344KZu29Fbk2NjNN8Jz9ckmpa_lM/edit

[buckysgrace]

I both love and hate that Billy won’t admit his true feelings to a girl he cares about. That’s just so canon. I can see him the second he starts having feelings, freaking out in his head and distancing himself. Poor Bills 😫 Maybe that’s why I love fanfic where he has a happy ending. He really deserves one

Idk if you were asking for little blurbs but, that’s what you GET! <3

Ughhhh same same. I think he’s just so…. Fearful perhaps? Really afraid and stubborn to just open up and share what he feels (also also also the fear of being abandoned is soooo strong when he’s with someone he cares about in my opinion).

So then yes he starts distancing himself because it’s easier for him to put up those walls before he gets hurt, but maybe you’re also a little stubborn. Or just oblivious. And despite the fact that he is really trying to get away from you, you just can’t let that happen. <3

I think he’d be pretty strict on you two being “Just friends.” No arguments, he’s too scared to fully talk about labels or that he’d like you enough to consider you to be his partner (he’s crazy about you).

And I think you’d also have to deal with this man staring at you just all the time. He loves eye contact already but he also just loves to memorize how you look?? Definitely has your little quirks down and when you ask him why he’s staring he’s always gonna say you have something on your face lmao.

I think he’s also like reserved about physical touch? Very scared of accidentally hurting you at first and it’s just so uncommon to him that he gets all nervous and his hands get all sweaty and clammy lol. But once he’s over that?? He’s touching you all the time, everywhere and it doesn’t matter who’s around lol.

And so yeah maybe he won’t admit that he’s absolutely whipped and crazy about you but I think you could certainly tell by his gestures? Soft nose kisses, tracing your lips and holding you close any time he can <3

He will definitely refer to you as his pretty girl (or pretty boy whichever you prefer). I think he’d definitely warm up to like baby or babe but calling his person pretty really warms his heart <3

Piggybacking off of that like… he would get so flustered and defensive if you compliment him. Would act like he cannot believe you did such a thing and pshhh, him? Pretty?? Absolutely cannot handle you saying such things about him. He knows he’s attractive but something about you saying it so gently, so sweetly and softly makes his knees weak.

Okay and I think at first too he just… is not the best gift giver. He has not had that practice before so it’s not necessarily sloppy but when he buys you things it would be within the hobby that you enjoy, but more of his style (for instance if you like reading he’s 100% getting you his favorite genre or book). Which is also, sweet but I do think he’s observant enough that after the first few times he truly understand what you like and what you don’t like.

I also think he’s down with restaurant dates and going to the movie theater and what not but I truly believe he loves to do things that are more sensual and deep? He’s definitely a late night, lying under the stars and having deep talks kind of guy. It takes a lot for him to open up but you best believe he has you memorized like the back of his hand.

AND I also think he is just such a gentleman?? Holding the door open for you, holding your hand as you step up a curb, giving you his jacket?? All of those omg.

I think he’d also ask your parents permission to date/marry you and all of that stuff (granted you have a good relationship with him). He just seems like he’d really want to have a good relationship with them too??

I’d also like to think that he just admits his feelings just randomly, maybe not even fully realizing he did it either?? Say you’re sat together on your couch early on a Saturday morning watching cartoons, definitely a little hungover, and he’s just like “You know I love you, right?”

And you’re just so taken aback and this is definitely not the scene that you imagined (neither did he) but it just works. Takes a lot for you to muster the words back because how emotional would that be?? Then he’d just squeeze your knee with a little smile and settle back into comfortable silence 🥺

Idk if any of this made sense but but he’s just my special little guy I luv him very dearly hehe

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Broken Headsets PT 2

-Chan

Warning: A lot of Angst.

Pairing: BangChan x reader.

Summary: where he snaps at you while working.

!Not proofread!

**

“Baby I’m so sorry, please open up the door.” Chan’s voice echoes through the door and into the bathroom.

My knees against my chest as I was calming down from a panic attack. The sleeves on my sweater now dump from all the tears it was sucking up.

“G-go away” I cry louder. My body shaking and my salty tears freely running down my hot face.

“I don’t…I don’t want to talk to you right now!”

“Babe I’m sorry okay? I didn’t mean to snap like that. Just let me talk to you. Let me hold you. I’m worried. Your going to have another panic attack”

“BangChan leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.” I throw whatever was in my reach at the wooden door. Making him jump on the other side of the door. Now HE couldn’t hold back his tears. He wanted to be able to sort it out because he genuinely didn’t mean to snap Or cause anyone pain.

“Okay I’ll give you some time my love, please don’t be angry with me. I’m sorry.” His voice now low and quiet. I had no response because I was so angry and so hurt by him.

I wasn’t being dramatic right?

The sound of his footsteps disappear down the hall making me quickly but softly wipe my tears away and get up to wash my face. The cold water making my body shiver. I stare at myself. Hair up in a bun, eyes red and eye bags deep from all the lack of sleep. A fucking mess.

The front door slamming was what made me jump getting me out of the trance I was in. Had he left? I pick up the container that was on the ground due to the fact I threw it and open the bathroom door.

I find Berry sat in-front of it as if waiting for me. I give her a soft smile and pick her up.

Walking through the house looking for any sign of Chan but there was none.

I glance at the clock and it read 12:45. Anger rises up my chest once again because how dare he leave the house at this hour knowing how much anxiety I have when his out late? Such a selfish bastard!

Get home.

I send him a text and switch off my phone to look around. A mess the house was.

“Shall we clean up Berry?” I look at the dog in my hands who didn’t even seem to be bothered by anything. “I swear I talk to you more than I talk to Chan” a chuckle leaves my lips when she starts licking my face.

“Now come on let’s get started.” I place her down and pick up things and put them away. My body needing the distraction but my mind and thoughts running at a speed of lightning.

Emotions running through “my mind and soul”. Cringe lol.

2:30 am.

The sound of the clock ticking was starting to irritate me and craw under my skin.

Worry slowly crawling up my chest. Where was he? Was he safe? Was he okay? Where could he be?

I hated myself for putting my self through this because after the little stunt he pulled causing me to sit in the bathroom crying my heart out for 2 hours begging for someone to come save me. I was still sat in our living at 2:30 am waiting and wondering where he had gone too.

Did he leave me? Surely he hadn’t cause all his stuff was still here.

My feet slowly taps the floor, something I do when I’m nervous. I tag on my sweater which is now stretched out due to the constant pulling. The material laying between my fingers feeling very satisfying.

“Why do you have to do this to me Chan?” I say softly, talking to myself.

The house was quiet once again like I’m used too.

The lights were off except for his studio room led lights that were on and passing through the glass window.

Berry was now sat on my lap cuddling me because I knew she sensed the stress my body was going through. She always just knew and she always tried to cuddle of just play around whenever Chan or I where going through something.

A sigh leaves my lips. I was tired. I needed sleep but I needed to know if he was safe.

I check my phone to see if he had responded but nothing came through and when I was about to set down the phone it stars to buzz making me jolt up. Han’s name pops up with a picture of me and him when we were at an adventure park in Japan.

I quickly pick up the phone hoping that somehow Chan was with him and they were doing some project.

“Hello?” My voice rough but still soft from all the crying.

“Hey baby.” He says softly from the other end of the phone.

“Hey..”

“Are you doing okay?” He asks, I could hear the nervous tone in his voice.

“Mhm” a hum in response.

“Channie Hyung is with us in the dorms okay? He showed up here really upset so we told him to just stay over until everything is calm,”

I feel my heart break into pieces. Was he really that upset that he didn’t want to stay in the same home as me? He knew how I hated when he didn’t sleep at home.

“Oh, okay that’s alright. Thank you for letting me know,” I tell him. A weigh being lifted off my shoulder because now that I knew he was safe I could sleep or so I thought.

After hanging up the phone. I slowly put Berry aside and cleanup the cold plate that’s till say on the table and decide to finish up the dishes.

The scent of soap filling my nostrils and a warm liquid running down my face. Tears.

Who would have thought that I would be here at the age of 25 doing dishes at 2 am while crying.

My vision was blurry and my legs were weak. My heart beating fast as I could hear it in my ears.

My face was hot and my body trembled from the heart aching sobs that left it.

I couldn’t be under this much stress.

It wasn’t good for the baby.

**

Pt 1 ⬇️

[auriidae]

LIFESTUCK ?!?! (pt 2 here!) (pt 3)

i was sick a couple days ago and spent like 12 hours straight doing nothing but classpecting life series characters and then was like Yeah i have to draw this now. so here's some sillies 👍 (super long classpect ramble under cut because i spent far too long on it not to share hfshjf)

quick note: i really really love @/classpect-navelgazing's theories and used them for a lot of the ideas here. go check their blog out it rules :]

ok you guys flower ranchers (scott tango jimmy) are making me so insane for this au specifically because of this idea i had about doom/life players. doom in true canon is related to inevitability, fate, and knowledge of the specific rules that keep the characters trapped within their story, right. and life is sort of related to healing, physically and mentally, within the confines of the game. so within this au, the aspect of life refers to the rules within the game that the players can see and are aware of (last life’s trading lives system + boogeyman, third life’s soulmate mechanic, secret life’s tasks, etc.). life players have some amount of dominion over these elements (depending on their class, of course). doom on the other hand refers to everything surrounding the games (stuff like admin powers, the world barrier, and whatever happens to the players after they die). 

as a mage of doom, scot (his name is so funny to me. like yeah he sure is) has a bunch of intrinsic knowledge about the way the games function on a logistical level. he’s like a guy who read the script a while ago and forgot all the characters’ names but knows the basic plot and how it’s going to end. or who knows all the ins and outs of tech crew and for whom the apparent magic of the show for the audience is lost on, since he knows how it’s being done. the thing is, scot isn't especially able to act on this knowledge during the game. what director wants someone in the audience — or one of the actors — taking all the magic out of the show, spoiling how it works and how it ends? no, it’s best if they keep that knowledge to themselves — and so scot’s narratively unable to affect the stories of those around him, even his close friends who he’d want to help. he’s aware of this, of course, which makes him more than a little depressed, as he can see the futility of it all and can’t even explain to anyone what’s going on and how the game works. (the only story he’s able to affect, of course, is his own. which. depressed doom player + mage martyr complex + guy who Really cares about his friends is not necessarily a good combination.)

the amount of stock i put in the idea of gendered classes is close to zero so tangoe gets to be a maid of life because ohh my goodness. i like the theory (thanks classpect-navelgazing) of life as “the aspect of affluence,” where life players usually enter the game with some kind of material wealth or status that helps their position in some way. i also like the idea that maid players start the game with a surplus of their aspect but often end up feeling as if they’re only seen as a provider of that specific thing as a result of this, and so end up longing for something else instead. this primarily applies to last life tango because that’s the season i’m most familiar with lol, but i thought the way he started out with so many lives there and quickly dwindled as a result of everyone taking from him and only him was Really interesting. mans has all the luck of the game he could need, but only wants friends to actually be able to live with. being a life player also ties into his little gambling games and things (again, dominion over stuff within the overarching game/story, but nothing beyond that).

then we get to jimi (again fantastic name). the basic premise of an heir is that they’re played by their aspect, right and Oh Boy is jimmy played by life in the life series. i don’t personally know much about anything he’s done other than heehoo canary guy but along with the previously stated points it’s So fun to see him as a life player because it allows for some really clearly contrast between the way he interacts with tangoe and scot based on their aspects. i really like the idea of scot being like “you’re a life player jimi. it's in your name. the game is not going to let you die” and jimi like “you really think so? aw thanks man” neither of them knowing that dying as a life player in this game is literally like in the job description. (ok. i kind of feel like i’m letting jimi down by basing his story so far around other people.. but this is just for fun and i can always change it later)

(also i could easily have put tangoe and jimi as doom players too but for the fact that i don’t think they necessarily see through the game as much as scot does (or at all). and so life it is.)

feel free to ask me questions abt them!!! i have so many thoughts about this bro 

[bun-z-bakery]

Does Dogday have any bad or annoying habits?

✧. ┊ 𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝐷𝑜𝑔 𝑂𝑙𝑑 𝑇𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑠

Oh, absolutely! Dogday has a few little habits, good and bad. Some slowly died down after a while but these are just a few I could think of rn :3

Teeny tiny CW for this one! There is mentions of some destructive behavior such as hoarding and codependency. It's not too detailed but I wanted to let you guys know before reading!

Old habits die hard

He has a lot of old habits that were drilled into him during his time at playtime co. Like

Talking in third person. 

Following a strict schedule. 

Scolding you when you swear etc. 

It takes a bit, but eventually he's able to catch and stop himself. 

Sometimes he'll mess with you and speak in third person, all you can do is sigh and stare. 

Oh no! Our table! It's broken!

He breaks things, ALOT. He sometimes forgets his strength and has a habit of gripping objects a bit too hard that they break. 

Your phone? What phone? 

Your laptop? He has no idea how that happened. 

We don't talk about how the railing came off of the wall, even though he doesn't know how it happened! 

What's mine isn't yours

As much as he trusts his angel, he can never be too sure. 

He keeps cans of food or anything he can snack on hidden as a “just in case”. When you four escaped he used to be very territorial when it came to food. Not that he wanted to be. 

He knows he can trust you, but he also knows from experience anything could easily be taken away, so expect him to be territorial with food or gifts for the first few months and expect to find stale food hidden under your bed too. 

What's yours is his

Literally. 

Dogday hates being apart from you, he has a bit of separation anxiety. He'll even “borrow” your stuff when you're gone. 

Clothes? He can't wear them, so he'll make a little nest on your bed with them. 

Getting him to wake up and move from the pile so you can put your stuff away is a struggle. The amount of torn and ripped clothing you have accumulated is concerning. Coming home to your favorite sweater or shirt being ripped and torn under his weight while he's in dreamland isn't fun, but once again, he has no idea how that happened. Strange. 

Paranoia and over thinking until he drops. 

He tends to overthink and rambles alottttt to himself when you're not there. Poppy has a hard time snapping him out of it. He can't help it, if something happens to you he'll never be able to cope plus he would never forgive himself for not being able to protect you.

Whenever you're home, he's basically glued to your side. Privacy? You don't know her! 

He keeps an eye on everyone and sometimes walks around the property at night to make sure it's safe.

As much as you reassure him, he still can't shake the feeling that something followed the four of you out. 

Manners? Not in this house, apparently. 

He's a bit of a messy eater and slurps his food. 

Everyone agrees he should be more mindful of his eating habits, but he can't help it. It's good! 

It was cute at first, seeing him enjoy his first proper meal after so long, but cleaning the mess and himself wasn't. 

The look of disapproval and disgust on your faces was enough for him to stop. 

Keep your tongue to yourself please

Whether it be affectionate or because you have food on your face, it doesn't matter. He will lick you! You think it's gross, Poppy thinks it is absolutely disgusting, and Kissy just sides-eyes him when he does. The table was silent the first time it happened. He sees nothing wrong with it, so expect it to happen again. 

A/N: I really had fun with these, I know I'll probably think of more in the future lol he's a silly dude we love him in this house. Thanks for reading and here's your order! 🍰☕

[skunkes]

ok detailed surgery experience

i made this schedule (?) of the major events as soon as I left while I cld still remember (and still kinda forgot!) i like knowing the Times of stuff so I asked my dad to take note of Times for me, and tried to ask for the time where i could

surgery I got was a laproscopic bilateral salpingectomy, full removal of the fallopian tubes only!

Misc details off of dis, obviously TMI territory as its a medical procedure.

The second blood draw (they took blood from me yesterday tooooo) hurt less and more somehow. Nasty nasty bruise forming.

IV really was the worst part of it ! I'd get weird throbs of frustrating pain long after it was in

I was given compression stockings that went right up to my crotch. Your toes stick out, and they put hospital socks over your feet. Some additional compress wraps were placed above my knees.

Pre op/prep didnt take too long at all. I know I have it listed as over an hour of waiting, which always made me nervous to read in other people's experiences, but it doesn't really feel like waiting. The TV helps pass the time, as do the people who are with you if any, and the nurses popping in with help or instructions or updates. The prep room was small and the bathroom was next door. The double doors open to wheel you out. Remote was given toe to control the TV and also call the nurses via a speaker.

The nurse who wheeled me in was nicest, she pronounced my name Correctly and was also really funny and friendly...

In general I knew this surgery was going to go well because I was actually able to fall asleep last night. I've stayed awake/tossed and turned for events far less stressful. Dis was also due to part of it kind of not feeling real for me! And being wheeled into surgery room added to that! It didnt feel real, it felt like watching one of many scenes from medical media of the same point of view.

I did start quaking and shaking once in the surgery room (also small, I did not look around much in fear of it making me panic last minute!)

They had me scoot from the prep bed to the surgery table. There was a pink foam headrest for me to slot the back of my head into. They strap you in with arms out like ur being crucified and thats when it became more Real for me so i started shaking a lot, but I can't tell how bad it was under the heavy blankets. I think I shook more and for longer when I went for my MRI (which also isnt/wasnt scary but the body freaks out for no reason). Im surprised at myself for being so Calm ykwim

Anyway, strapped in, had monitoring stuff stickered onto my body: my sternum, side of body under chest/armpits, and another pair I cant remember where. Hair was put up in hair net. My hospital gown was untied as the tie starts halfway across your body and goes under, but this was not done in an invasive-to-privacy way, and I was still fully covered by it (and then recovered by blankets)

(3 separate people asked me how many kids I had throughout this whole venture, and were Shocked at my response. This was the other most nerve wracking part as I started to get weirdly anxious that someone wouldn't like this and cancel my surgery or something. One of the Askers was the anesthesiologist.) Doctor/surgeon came in and asked if i was ready and talked about how he loved being under anesthesia LOL. Everybody was speaking about their opinions about childbirth and sterilization and parenthood, but amongst each other and not to influence my decision, along with telling each other to set up XYZ. Once again everybody is charmed by Cheye's usage of the word "yay"

Ive never had surgery before, so I was worried about anesthesia. In my mind i was imagining it to be being fully lucid and then your vision darkens and takes you, which was scary to me like i dont wanna be freaking out and then immediately KNOCKED out!

But it was gradual which actually made it more calming for me...the funny nurse put the oxygen mask over me, I got very nervous bc she said to take deep breaths and honestly i couldnt even breath much at all in it, and breathing out also felt very restricting and like I was going to choke, but it wasn't Distressing. I just breathed slowly and it worked anyway.

In a few seconds I felt a cool tingle in my arm that then sort of burst into my torso, and my whole body felt really light and my eyelids draggggggged half closed, but it felt very mechanical and involuntarily (like slowly closing window blinds...or like how the brightness options on a 3DS are numbered buttons ykwim? Like, Closing 1, Closing 2, Closing 3, Closed Halfway, all pressed in quick succession). Heavy heavy heavy. I stayed in that half closed state for a while! (Probably not even a full minute, but it also wasn't instant...i still had time to think and Hear conversation etc, as well as feel that there was some mechanical thing tightening around my spread arms along with the hand adjusted straps)

The funny nurse was telling me to relax and have sweet dreams and that they wld take care of me and such. And then I was out. I do not remember my vision fully fading or eyes fully closing, in my mind they stayed in that half closed state.

Ive heard ppl say it feels like blinking and waking up, but it did feel like sleep to me!!!! I know dreaming under anesthesia isn't really a thing, but waking up felt like....i was really waking up like normal and trying to remember traces of a dream after several hours of sleep.

I always thought it was silly seeing ppl ask if the surgery was over when they come out of it, but I did that. But like i swear it came out involuntarily??? Like i knew it was over....i think it was because I couldnt really SEE anything when i woke up, I could only hear staff speaking to me, and I can barely remember what they said. Vision was VERY very blurred. So I guess that question came out as substitute for Where Am I, and Who's Here With Me? Speaking felt like when audio unsyncs from a video, with my voice trailing far behind my words. I also remember being really bewildered bc there was some sort of residue on my lips, like when they're chapped and dry and cracking. I learned later this was bc of the intubation but i Didnt Know That Yet so i was just scared and thirsty.

Adding another "pain was less bad than the average period which has one Doubled Over" statement to the pile. Pain was at 3/10 or 4/10, which is to say if period pain is a whole abdomen event, this pain was small little bruises occasionally being brushed up against, just small throbs of sore pain in the 3 incision spots. I got an incision inside my belly button and that was the most present sensation, but that might also be bc I hate anything having to do with that area in general 😭 always feels weird.

My throat felt very DRY. It wasn't pain yet, it felt like when you're thirsty + dehydrated and your lips stick together at any slight moisture, but in the throat. Kept trying to look around and wiggle my fingers and toes in hopes that'd help me Come Out Of It sooner bc not being able to see was really frustrating me. I could not make out the face of the person watching over me for some time. I really wanted water !

HORROR when the person looking over me said i had a catheter still in me. Nightmare I wasnt counting on actually happening and wasnt mentally prepared for. I was told I would have one placed (make sure to ask if this is a concern for you!) but i thought they'd take it out before I woke up... I cldnt even feel it in me when I was told this! Which is good.

The staff of course had to remove blankets and open my gown a bit to access the area. But I did not feel any distress about this at the time.

Had a very funny slow motion distress response bracing self for removal. It did not hurt or sting at all, it just felt like [something I cant describe here]. Just pressure! It was pulled out gently but quickly of course.

After 1 hr i was wheeled to a separate private recovery room. The nurse uncovered my lower area to check if incisions were doing good so far as well as to check if I had been provided with a pad/underwear, as some patients have blood or other fluids come out as a result of the surgery.

parents came in, was so grateful for juice but in dismay over my food item being orange (i dont like citrus flavor) jello (i dont like jello 😭) i consumed all of both.

I also worried I'd feel weird about throwing my body parts away. But I dont feel anything ^_^ just feels very awesome and natural

Sore throat started further developing. Nurse came in after some time here, taught me how to Get Up. Was scary! I was worried about it hurting, but it was just more soreness.

Was able to go to the bathroom, went a very little bit but it was enough. I was very scared about seeing my incisions and being disgusted by them....but I caught a glance and it was Okey Yey. They are covered in surgical Glue and dont look gnarly, swollen, red or anything they look very cool ^_^ got dressed in stages as there was nothing to set clothes down on and sat back down on the bed. The bathroom connected to another room where somebody else was preparing for surgery.

Nurse came in with final post op instructions, upon describing nausea to me my skin got cold, stomach activated and krusty krab exploded with it. She was just barely able to get me a bag to throw up in. This exacerbated the throat pain. She encouraged me to get it all out especially since I also expelled gas, which is a good thing.

IV removal didnt hurt! Same level of pain as the tape around it being yanked off. I couldn't even tell it was over. I was wheeled out of the hospital. ^_^ i wore an oversized dress my sister lent me, and cheap target sandals so I wouldnt have to bend to tie shoes. My dad pulled up the car right outside. I brought a pillow to be a barrier in between the seat belt and my stomach.

Its 6:48 neow and I am laying down, but the pain is (currently) the same. I had another nausea (and release. Also exacerbated throat pain.) spell (while in walmart picking up the pain meds), was boiling alive in my very hot room, and was a bit dehydrated which may have contributed to some misery and nausea but as of right now I'm ok, i changed into lighter clothes, drank water, ate a bit, and situated self in a room with ac....i worry about getting up and becoming nauseous again 😭 i hate throwing up.

People are right about it being more discomfort than pain! You have to walk around every few hours, and it doesnt hurt but every step feels like my bellybutton is kinda pinching inward. Being tugged at from the inside. Ive gotten to a point where even chuckling makes me feel this very Sour soreness (not regular dull soreness) so maybe ill start the meds soon if necessary.... Squatting to sit doesnt hurt in a debilitating way, neither does actually sitting or putting on/stepping into clothing.

I couldnt nap because laying on my side doesnt hurt the incisions or anything, BUT its just the strange discomfort again. The weight of gravity on the body makes the incision sites feel very very weird in an abstract way i cant describe. It isnt pain. It feels like a mismatched sensation of some sort. Like if you touched your nose and somehow felt the touch on your knee. Adjacent to this. A very specific sensation sits in all the incision sites and drags down through your mattress to the ground and it feels Weird.

If you get up properly it really doesn't hurt to do so! Use your leg to get yourself fully onto your side, then use your arm to push yourself up into a sitting position.

I am very nervous from when all the good strong hospital meds wear off t_t i heard the day after is a struggle because of dis. but ive got the prescribed pain management on hand (extra strength ibuprofen and tylenol with codeine!! O_O) neow at least ^_^;

OH, AND THE DOCTOR TOOK FOTOS OF MY INSIDES LIKE I ASKED! ^_^ 🫶 I have glossy printed souvenir now! I dont exactly know wtf im looking at but its awesum LOL maybe i will ask for details at the follow up!

[spoopup]

realised ive never posted my timeskip pearl design ideas here ..!! i wanted to wait until i did some more but ill just post them now since i made them a bit ago now. None of these r final because my minds constantly changing ! maybe posting these will motivate me to make some more

errmm my rambles under the cut!!!

disclaimer i have a bad memory so i dont remember much of what pearl was like after the timeskip (i played SOJ in august and i didnt get to play the DD dlc where she shows up i think) (i also dont think about SOJ that much) so im going off what little i remember and also making my own stuff up👍! sorry if my pearl lore is off in general

i wanted to make a casual outfit for her eventually because i feel like as she grows and gets more freedom to do things and makes more friends she’d develop more interests outside of spirit channelling. i think she’d still be a spirit medium and stuff but she’d find interests in other things. i also think pearl would spend some time with iris and would visit her sometimes to get to know her , i like the thought of iris teaching her how to braid her hair too! i also think that pearl would like cute accessories a lot , so i gave her some small stuff like hair clips, cute socks and a pearl bracelet(which was a gift from trucy, in my head)

i made these because i dont really like pearl’s timeskip design, it doesnt feel like much effort was put into it. in my frog opinion. and also her having the hair bead (unsure if it has an actual name) on a small strand of hair at the front has always annoyed me i feel like that’d be very annoying for pearl lol .. again none of these r final because im indecisive !! thank u for reading my rambling \(^_^)/

[jazzyblusnowflake]

You've got some cool headcanons for Nuzi and Vuzi, but what about the third? You got any for EnVy?

Wow i suck at answering these on time smh. sighhhh, in my defense i procrastinate answering some questions cuz i don't wanna just put together some random stuff and call it a day-

i actually wrote some stuff for some asks before but had to delete it last minute cuz i thought its worth putting more time than that, i guess TvT sorry, im probably taking this too seriously idk.

My eNVee headcanons TvT:

[yall know the drill, the drone versions only, the human versions aren’t involved, and no nsfw- for now.]

k so, light envuzi involved too, Uzi is the mediator here, whether u consider her a friend here or their mini toaster in the middle- also there's some of the stuff from my future version where V is safe and sound thankfully. and also maybe some stuff from their past too.

With how N was realizing that V was lying or hiding stuff from him in a constant manner, naturally he grew to grieve the loss of who V USED to be, and with that loss he tried to accept that he has to let her go, because the V he fell in love with was long gone. despite this, when they both started teasing each other over their relationship with Uzi and N started to bite back a bit at Vs behaviors with more self confidence, they grew to form a completely different kind of relationship. Uzi was just having fun seeing them try to win her over lmao; but in the end they kind of started enjoying eachothers company again. Uzi felt happy seeing them get closure for the things they went through and was more than happy to support them through it.

Back at the manor V was fixed up after J and N, she was one of the later drones added to the family, she hardly spent much time at the manor at all before the great yeetening happened- she was originally a maid drone for a family before she was broken and dumped in the drone corpse junkyard. Maid drones are programmed with sweet and soft AIs with more round/short body shapes to have a friendly image in a household, they are made to be able to deal with both adults and kids, and they are best made for cleaning and setting up the house in mind. N was made as a butler/chauffeur before getting broken and yeeted in the junkyard [yes he can drive]. Due to V getting broken for some sort of mistake during work, she was left scarred after her reboot to make any more mistakes, which left her slightly jitter-ish and clumsy. Tessa put N in charge to help her around and although at the beginning V didn't talk much and felt unsure, slowly N became her safe space- especially since Tessas abusive parents remind V alot of her old household. N in turn thought V was always cute, he helped her with her work, having more steady hands, which ended with a lot more hand touching and blushing on both their ends :p

N was the one that suggested glasses for V which Tessa decided to try doing to see if it would help her visual efficiency in any way, and it did. V as a DD often tries to rely on her real eyes rather than look through her main visor, the glasses remind her too much of N...

N and V sometimes used to get out of the manor in secret spots to spend some time away from the chaos to help V calm down. during this time they would read books, learn stuff from each others past lives, and sometimes draw lol, but V just liked watching and listening to N, she felt happy with him. although unlike N, V felt a bit nervous around the animals in the area XD

N and V actually have shared kisses, just not on the lips. with N kissing her on the back of her hand as a gentleman and V giving him kisses on his cheek [Tessa's idea of a cute plan to put them under a mistletoe lol], but Vs last words to N was a promise to give him a kiss before she became comatose. as more drones in the manor stopped working and Ns efficiency and work became less useful to the manors occupants due to him wanting to spend time with V all the time, Louisa and James started becoming more impatient with Tessa's drones, which lead to the whole "get rid of them" line...

back in the current time V is obviously trying to protect N in her own traumatized way; but even then, most of the things she had done to "shelter" N, was probably not the best choice one could make, and some of it was done out of jealousy towards N and Uzi getting closer. However, slowly she started convincing herself that N deserved someone like Uzi. V had convinced herself that she deserves nothing. She was willing to give up everything for N and keep him safe from the beginning, even if it meant knocking N down a few limbs/heads just to keep him away from danger- which is problematic in itself. she made choices based off fear and urgency. she was always traumatized.

When N and V started getting along together a bit more and hanging around a bit in the human cities- V takes N to a bookstore she found once and they spent the whole day in the shelter of the store reading different old books. V still does not admit she did this to see N happy again lol.

When N started showing V affection again, V started becoming heavily touch starved and dependent on him again, just like the manor days, which she feared, which caused a minor set back for a while where she tried to avoid N. Uzi had to come and fix this shit cuz apparently only she can scold 2 dinosaurs without feeling intimidated. after N and V kiss for the first time PROPERLY after the whole solver BS ends, V just gets more touch starved and she hates both N AND Uzi for this lmao.

N and Uzi know that one of the only ways to make V calm down is to act soft with her, occasionally praising her and calling her nice things; even when V is literally threatening to bite their head off- [shes bluffing-.......mostly.]

N is usually the one that initiates any closeness with V. after their first kiss, N does tell her that she's done stuff that he might not be able to casually forgive, but at the same time he has seen her grow, and she does have good in her that he still loves her for.

V has nightmares and hardly ever sleeps, and when she does, its usually cuddling N or Uzi.

V tries to wear her glasses more often in the future. N likes it a lot :"3

V is surprisingly a good mom :p [spoilers for my au lmao bye] but yeah, since her original OS was for a maid, she still has some functions to be good with little ones. she cant help herself, she just really likes babies and kids.

N likes sometimes ballroom dancing with V for old times sake...

[i think this is as far as my brain will allow me, please excuse me as i jump off a cliff :") ]