#out of all the ways i have had to explain a post before being like ''did u forget a middle child can happen'' is my favorite

[caitlinbueckers]

baby daddy.

paige bueckers x reader

3.2k

like guys . I don’t even know what to say rn . this is PURE fucking filth like yas there is some exposition in the beginning and its dialogue heavy but like ✋✋ just know this is fucking porn . So sorry for anon if this isn’t up to par but the wormz took over my brain and this is all i have to show for it . Love u so much for the idea tho <3

ANYWAYZZZ !!!! you and paige buy a strap. filth ensues.

MAJOR 18+ WARNING!!!!

“babe.”

it’s deadpan, borderline exasperated as you turn your head, meeting a wildly unimpressed expression from paige that makes you snort out loud, hand coming up to cover your mouth.

in your girlfriends hand, dangling from her fingers, is a dildo of some sorts, shaped horrifically in the form of an anatomically incorrect fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your surprised laughter from bubbling out, taking a step closer with a look of awe.

“dude, you’re kidding,”

“babe, why are we even here? like, deadass i have two hands and ten fingers, this is so extra.”

to be fair, she had a point— those two hands and ten fingers had never done you wrong in the slightest, but this was simply an act of impulse, deciding just that morning after you guys had spent the time with each others hands down each others pants, you’d declared in a sudden rush of post-nut clarity, that you simply had to see paige in a strap.

which, was met with a bit of intrigue and then, obviously, because paige bueckers is competitive in anything she can consider herself good at, couldn’t help but interrogate you in outright disbelief.

‘so, what i’m hearing is that i’m not enough?” it was said in the tone she uses when her sarcasm is over the top, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, slapping her arm.

‘baby, stop being so dramatic, oh my god.”

you’d kissed her to silence her delusions as to why you’d even brought it up in the first place, before explaining ever so gently that it was never a matter of what paige couldn’t do, and more so about the capabilities of what she could do, and that you promised it would be fun.

truly, she was on board after you’d told her that for some girls it was hard to use, so that, ‘if she couldn’t handle it, she could give up’ — of course paige would never back down from a challenge.

“you do have two hands, and i love them just the same. i just wanna try it, okay? is that okay?” you say it in your quiet, softest voice, and maybe you’re kinda being a brat because you know paige could never say no to you when you talk like that, or when you walk up to her, tracing a thumb against her cheek before pulling her down to peck her nose.

it’s immediate the way she chases your lips, presses a quick one to your mouth before she’s rolling her eyes, “anything for my baby, i guess.” but, she’s smiling, and that feels like more progress than before.

in the end, you guys end up picking something pretty beginner level— it’s only six inches, has a dual ended pleasure vibrator nestled in the crotch for the one wearing it and due to paige’s prompt request, it is in fact purple, which only makes you laugh at the excited shimmy she does as you both walk out, hand in hand, black, privacy sack swinging between her fingers.

“thought you were so against the idea?” you couldn’t help but tease her once you guys are in the car, music already blasting— you know all her music without really knowing it, but it’s definitely something by brent faiyaz.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “until i thought about getting to fuck you with it.” she says coyly, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow before she’s pulling out of the lot, hand secured on your thigh.

you guys don’t really get to it that night, or the next day— instead settling for the slow, tired morning sex that you guys indulge in before her practice and then after, the languid, loving type of sex you both revel in for the evening when she’s back at the dorms.

no, for some reason, it isn’t until a week or so later that it suddenly comes up— and even then, you weren’t necessarily thinking about it too hard, not until the teams all at dinner. you, paige, KK, and aubrey all sit together, and it’s really in moments like these that you love to actually participate in conversations with the team— KK and aubrey had been one of the first to welcome you in with open arms after you and paige had begun dating, so you really felt most at ease with them, even if they could be complete idiots.

not like paige was any better.

it had started with someone making a tiktok, going around asking who they’d never let their son or daughter date— resoundingly, enough people said paige, which was both parts hilarious for you, and astounding for paige.

“bro! literally i’m like, the best girlfriend, that’s some bull.” she couldn’t help but scoff, even if she’s smiling just a little, “baby, i’m a good girlfriend, right?”

you purposely take a minute to answer, pretending to think about it until she grasps your thigh beneath the table, making you snicker as she squeezes, and suddenly, you know exactly the angle she’s playing.

“girl, i don’t trust you,“ KK snorts, making a face, “you’d probably get my kid pregnant or somethin’, like—“

KK’s words make paige snort, shrugging a bit, “shoot, i mean, no wonder they call me baby daddy.” she sticks her tongue out, entirely too immature for the setting of the restaurant, but it makes you warm all over anyway— you love her, even when she’s being childish, which is pretty much most of the time.

the conversation continues after that, and though you pay attention, laugh when it’s funny and answer when you need to, you can’t quite get that out of your head— baby daddy.

it makes you think.

it’s late by the time you guys get home, and true to paige’s fashion, the door is only shut and locked for a second before she’s behind you, pressing kisses to your neck and sliding hands up your shirt, humming quietly— “i’m a good girlfriend, yeah?”

it’s not often that paige asks for reassurance, mostly because she usually already knows, but it’s why it makes it extra special when she does.

“duh.” you whisper out, tilting your head back to grant her more access while she sneaks a hand into your jeans, forgoing the button entirely. her fingers are prodding against your clit when you let out a soft moan, your fluttering eyes only opening for half a second before they spot the black sack from across the room, your own hand gently grasping her wrist to still its movements.

“baby, why don’t we…?” your tilt your head in the direction, leaning your head sideways to try and capture her reaction.

surprisingly, she looks just as interested.

it’s comes out quietly, pressed to your temple, “get on the bed then.”

you don’t waste much time, stepping out of your jeans and your top until there’s nothing left but the black, simple thong that rests against your hips, crawling back against her purple sheets with an inquisitive look on your face while she pulled the thing from its plastic package.

“remember what you said earlier?” you say offhandedly as you watch paige’s muscles flex and tighten, looping the belt around her before she glances up at you, “which part?”

“baby daddy,” you can’t help but grin, tossing your head back against the bed, “just wanted to see how true that is.”

paige scoffs, and it’s obvious she likes that, plays into it even as she crawls onto the bed, looking down at you with a narrowed glance, “how true what is? that i could get you pregnant?”

it’s almost immediate the way your body flushes at that, the subconscious squeeze of your thighs together as you look up at her through lidded eyes, “mhm. is that bad?”

“i mean,” she’s smirking though, and her hand wraps around the strap on slowly, as if simulating it to be an extension of herself— it’s really fucking hot, “it’s sexy that you even thought about it like that,” she whispers, and you can practically see the confidence rising within her at the prospect, before her eyes flicker up at you. “wanna suck me off, ma?”

it makes something within you go haywire, and your mouth practically fills with saliva as if to prepare for it before you nod slowly, propping yourself up on your elbows before you stick your tongue out, paige’s blue orbs never leaving you for one second, before she’s sighing, hard under her breath, “fuuuck.”

she gets up on her knees, running her hands through your hair to gently guide your mouth down to the tip, her teeth teasing the bottom of her lip as you slowly slid the length into your mouth. it felt foreign, heavy on the tongue, but the texture was so lifelike, it almost felt like it was attached to paige.

“shit, baby,” she sounds out of breath as she thumbs your hair from your eyes, wanting to catch every dirty look you send up to her, mouth full and eyes watering, “god, you’re such… a slut.”

it must’ve been the strap or something, that had the endless string of dirty talk spilling from paige’s mouth, not entirely too uncommon and yet it had shifted the atmosphere completely. it felt lavacious, provocative, tantalizing even.

still, it makes the arousal pool between your legs, making you practically squeeze your thighs together again and again, chasing the feeling of some type of friction as paige pushed her hips up slightly, the tip only then touching the back of your throat and eliciting the first drop of a tear from your eye.

she notices, because she doesn’t miss a thing, and is slow as she pulls it from your mouth, eyes lingering on the string of saliva that connected your bottom lip from the tip of the strap.

she’s breathing heavy, blonde strands falling into her face, loose from the usual braid she kept her front pieces in as she grasps your jaw, “does that hurt?”

it doesn’t, but it makes you smirk that she even asks, shaking your head before you lean back now, head hitting the mattress as you open your thighs, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“you can make it hurt,” you suggest, and paige lets out a slow exhale, a teasing grin on her smile as she grasps it by the hilt, “you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know that?” the words are hissed down at you, spoken between her lips, chapped from how hard she’d been breathing as she rubs the tip of the now warmed, messily lubricated length against your cunt, eyes narrowed and focused as she drags it up, then down.

“you’re so wet,” it sighs out of paige as if she doesn’t even realize that she’d said it, a whine puffing past your lips involuntarily, ready to spit some type of urgency towards her, until she pushes in, finally, and you fucking gasp.

it was unlike what you’d really ever felt before— especially having never been with men or experimenting with penetration on this degree. it’s thicker than you expect, thicker than paige’s fingers combined, and your back arches upwards off the bed, right as paige grasps your hip to keep you right in place. “shh, shh— fuck, you’re so good, baby.”

“ohhh- oh fuck, paige—“ the words come out in a mess of noises, as you fling an arm over your face to try and focus on the comforting rub of paige’s thumb, the smell of her cologne, instead of the stretching, hot pressure that’s collected between your legs.

it only takes a couple moments before it doesn’t completely hurt, but the second that it does, you can finally blink your watery eyes open, letting out a soft moan at the furrowed eyebrows on paige’s face, her own lips parted as she carefully gives a shallow thrust into you, the subsequent friction of the dull, now audible buzzing of the vibrator on the other end of the dildo against her clit and it’s obvious.

it’s in the way she grunts, tongue darting out to seek attention to her bottom lip. “s’that feel good?” she’s panting already, and it makes your stomach swirl in arousal, nodding quickly as she gives another slow, but shallow thrust that sends immediate shivers up your spine, a rush of rampant pleasure up your stomach as you let out a groan, “more?”

it doesn’t take long for paige to find a rhythm— surprising considering her dancing abilities— and once she does, you can practically sense the confidence that radiates off of her. it’s in the way she wraps an arm around your thigh to hoist your leg up, higher, higher, until your cunt is on full display, and she’s leaning atop you, pressing wet kisses to your breasts as she drags her hips into you, each push making you both shudder out a moan.

“shit, baby— so fucking— so fucking wet. wan’me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” paige always has a habit of going on these fuck-drunk tangents, ones that usually send you careening over the edge in due time, but this— it makes you mewl into her ear, the thick, heavy weight of the strap punching into you, deeper than you or paige could ever reach, and it makes your hips jerk upwards, wanting more of it, all of it.

for half a second, you hoped, by some weird anatomical technique, she could get you pregnant.

“ohhh— fuck! paige, paige— pleasepleaseplease—“ what you’re begging for, even you can’t decipher, but it’s really just to make sure that she rocks into you like that again.

and she does— again and again, drool collecting in the corner of your mouth from how long your lips have been parted, and paige looks at you, delirious and flushed as she drags her thumb over your mouth, wipes away the spit and reaches between you two.

before you can figure it out, you feel her finger tracing the outside of your stretched cunt, the wetness that’s collected there as she lets out a wanton sigh, something more high pitched than what paige usually grunts out, “stretching you s’good, baby— fucking- take it, jus’ like that— fuck, wanna fuck you stupid, baby.”

it’s almost too much. your head presses hard against the comforter as paige’s hips push flush against your own, the final stab of the length being inside of you makes your head swim, your body acting upon it’s own accord as your thighs, shaking, squeeze around paige’s hips, your stomach flexing and jumping as paige gives up whatever bit of composure or control she has left, before she’s quick to fuck into you without a single strand of resistance.

it’s hot, heady, and the sweat that collects on the surface of your skin is almost like a sense of accomplishment as her face falls into your neck, your thighs pushed impossibly high to give her the best angle, as she ruts into you. the slight curve of the dildo somehow gives a direct angle to your g-spot, and it punches a shout out of you, one that’s followed with a crying whine that even you knew was bound to get you both caught.

“fffuck— shhh- shut the fuck up—“ her mouth is on your neck in an instant, other hand quick to clamp over your mouth, but the friction against paige’s clit has her bottom lip quivering, struggling to close as each of her gravelly, breathy moans launch right into your ear, and it’s clear that she’s being greedy, grinding the strap into your cunt for the effort of chasing her own high, and it’s fucking sexy.

this deep, you can almost feel the fucking vibrator, and it reduces you into nothing— fingers twine into paige’s hair, sweaty and sticky, as she fucks into you with reckless abandon, the bed frame squeaking in protest, your cunt wet enough that you can fucking hear it, can feel it drip onto the bed below, feel it coating the sheets and paige’s thighs and you think she’s about to orgasm with how quick her breath has gotten, how shaky her hips are with each incessant thrust, like an earthquake pulsing through your body and it makes you sob, because it feels so fucking good, and paige is so deep, you can feel her everywhere.

“wanna cum inside of’you— ohmyfuck- please, wanna fuck my babies into you— iloveyou, so, fucking- so fu-ucking sexy, baby, fuck.”

it’s all gibberish really, a promise that makes you turn into a pile of mush, because you can feel your cunt tighten around it— delusionally, you imagine paige can feel it too— because even her declaration of love is enough to send you flying over the edge as your legs tighten around her hips, the vibrator nestled deep against paige’s clit until she’s coming too, and it’s a glorious thing to hear— ripping from her throat in a cacophony of throaty groans and whines that mimic yours, only deeper, grittier.

she thrusts into you, sloppy and out of control until you can feel her release on your cunt, spread against your thighs, the dull vibration now pressing hot and wet against you, so much so that it makes your body flood in aftershock, pleasure wracking through you in earnest as your body twitches and jumps, every embarrassingly high pitched noise ripping from your throat, as paige’s go muddled and unintelligible against your neck.

it’s like a cathartic release of sorts, leaving you feeling boneless and jellied in the wake as you slowly return to your senses, fucked out and exhausted as you try to experimentally move your hips, but the soreness between your legs is almost unfathomable.

“shit—“ you hiss as paige finally lifts her head, her own hand slow to guide the strap from your abused cunt, and it’s clear by, not only the tired, almost loopy smirk on her face, but the redness in her eyes, the wetness coating her lashes, that she’d enjoyed herself as much as you had— and while sex between you had always been mutual, it wasn’t often you got to see her fully release like that.

“was that good, hm? did i do okay?” she’s always quick to look for approval, her hand coming up to brush the tears from your face, to pepper a light array of kisses against your lips, chapped and puffy, as you let out a tired laugh, “fucking duh, that shit was… so hot,” you trace her blonde strands, plastered to her forehead, away from her face, “don’t think i’ve ever heard you sound like that.”

it makes her cheeks red, eyes rolling with a scoff, as she lets out a quiet laugh, already trying to play it off as cocky instead of flushed, “well- yeah, ‘cause, i was watching you take my dick.” you slap her arm weakly with a snort, wincing at her usage of words, “ew, you’re so gross.”

“and you’re so pretty,” she counters, before pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.

you both don’t really try to address the fact that there was probably no way you’d both been quiet enough to not at least alert one of the girls, but you ignore it anyway.

besides, it’s only KK that ends up putting you both in a group message the next morning, sending a string of angry emojis and a text that says, ‘bye im moving rooms’.

you both laugh, because you know she’s not, and more so, you all three know it wasn’t the first time and definitely not the last.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #9

[The Stalker Part 1]

Strange things have been happening to you lately.

It started small with the discomfort of always feeling like you were being watched. Of course, you never met someone's eyes when you turned around, and you tried to brush it off as best as you could. But even when you started minimalizing your time outdoors, unexplainable things started to happen in your own house. Things were moved when you weren't looking, the space next to you in your bed was warm when you woke up, and you found strange devices around the house that you couldn't explain.

You went to the police, but there was nothing they could do.

So you installed cameras, and lo and behold, there he was. The creep that had intruded into your life. It didn't even take him a day of caution before you watched on your computer as the black silhoutte stared directly into the camera, his eyes hidden behind a black mask. He made a heart gesture with his hands before breaking into your bedroom window in the early hours of the morning, seemingly with ease. As if he knew what he was doing. Unafraid.

There was no way you could have stayed in the house. But even when you moved from your childhood home to your friends home, your stalker made sure you noticed that he was still around, one way or another. Worse, even with the footage, the police was still unable to catch him.

Feeling defeated and scared, you eventually mustered the strength to go home. Even with him making his presence known, he hadn't done anything to you, and somehow you had to look forward into the future and reclaim the life that his terror had stolen from you.

Everything was clean and tidy, unlike you expected. You found some things out of place, like books that didn't belong in certain shelves, but it definitely looked like he had tried to arrange them correctly, but wasn't sure where they went. It made you smile faintly as you took out your favorite childhood book. But only for a brief moment before you stuffed the book right back into the actual place it belonged and tried to get used to the old but new enviroment of your own home.

Until the door rang.

You didn't expect any visitors. Up to this point, you two had never interacted. At least, nothing more than the few stare-offs through the camera. Yet... you knew it was him.

You braced yourself, your phone clutched in your hand while you grabbed an umbrella standing in the entrance. Things could get messy quickly, but maybe if you were able to just let him know you didn't want anything from him, maybe he could be reasoned with. With bated breath you unlocked one of the locks you had installed on your door, just enough to open a gap, and gathering all your courage you opened it, only to find...

Nothing. Well, not nothing. Just no one.

You stood there for a while, contemplating what was going on, when your gaze fell to the ground, a stark white envelop resting there. You waited for a moment more, expecting someone to jump out if you weren't looking. But eventually, you squatted down, fishing the envelop through the gap and closing it again. Nervously, you messed with the opening until you could pull out the paper inside.

Welcome home, baby! :) Please wear the clothes I put into the closet for you tomorrow ♥ Can't wait to see you in them!

Feeling a sense of panic, you got up, hurriedly walking into your bedroom and throwing open the closet doors. All your clothes had vanished, only a small, neatly-folded pile sat in one of the shelves, a post-it on them.

P.S. I'm glad my little mishap with the book made you smile. I'll do anything to see you smile ♥

Goosebumps ran over your whole body as you realized he must have just been here if he saw you smile briefly just minutes ago and then placed the note here. Maybe he still was? You stopped breathing, listening intensely if there were any other sounds you hadn't noticed before. Your home was silent.

Hesitantly, you pulled out the clothes he had prepare. Soft, expensive, skimpy. The outfit your stalker put together was much too raunchy for your taste but it would still work even in an office setting. You'd be covered with trousers and a blazer, but the top that was supposed to act like a shirt was see-through and lacey as if it was lingerie. You were sure to turn some heads if you wore it to your job.

Refusing him didn't seem to have any immediate consequences, but at the same time, after already being terrorized for so long, could you really refuse such a small request? Certainly, it would prompt him to get bolder... But at the same time, despite showcasing he could, he never confronted you. There was no saying if refusing him would cause any issues, even if it seemed likely. But maybe you had just become incredible paranoid.

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I left a message on my abusive ex’s memorial page?

🐡🐡 to find

When I was ~16-19, I dated someone (who was 17-20 over that same time period) who was very emotionally and financially abusive. Thankfully it was a mostly online relationship, but during the 2 times we met in person they were also abusive in other ways. I won’t explain any further since it isn’t relevant. They had continued to stalk me after that for some years, onljne and with IRL letters

I recently discovered that they passed away at the end of last year. Apparently my alt Facebook that I had forgotten about which I haven’t used in ages (I stopped using it before we broke up, and it’s been about 5 years since we broke up) was still friended to them, and had received an invitation to their memorial group along with everyone else on their friends list. The only reason I even remembered this account still existed was from going through a very old group chat on Skype and seeing a link to it and going “oh shit I should delete that huh”. Basically all this to say I only found out through a series of complete coincidences.

I’ve had a huge turmoil of emotions ever since I found out. It’s extremely sudden and they died very young. Since I found out late, the funeral had already happened and a lot of messages were already posted to the memorial page.

W/o making this any longer since I’ve probably overdetailed this already, it’s been a couple weeks of a lot of memories I’d rather have been forgotten, and feeling extremely, weird, about the whole thing. My OCD has also latched onto this in some pretty unpleasant ways.

I’ve been considering leaving a message on their memorial page. Of course I wouldn’t talk about their abuse in front of god and grandma and everyone, I’d keep it vague. I wouldn’t be negative, just contemplative. But I feel like it would help my mind finally close the chapter of being affected by them. However, I know the memorial page is supposed to be for people who have positive memories of them. Which I know I don’t. Even without explaining who they are or what they did to me, or even without saying anything negative at all, WIBTA if I did this? I don’t want to intrude on their grieving family and actual friends, I don’t blame any of them for the kind of person they were, I doubt any of them even know.

[auteurdelabre]

A LITTLE SUN PART 7 (part II) Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+

tags: SMUT. Penetration, Oral (m and f receiving), use of 'daddy' (but you ain't into it), use of 'baby', Dieter being Dieter, fluff, like such tooth-rotting sweetness its almost gross, idiots in love, pregnancy, talk of pregnancy body changes/self esteem, love love love, family issues, mentions of parental death.

a/n: Tumblr is dumb and won't let me post the entire chapter in one post. ARGH. So below is part two.

HERE IS PART ONE OF THIS CHAPTER.

series masterlist

Your mother is pacing around the kitchen when the doorbell rings. With a muttered grumble she strides to the front door, tugging it open with a flourish. She expects to see her pregnant daughter there, what she doesn’t expect is a six foot movie star she hates to be flinching at her.

He’s wearing a short sleeved linen shirt, freshly pressed slacks and his usually unruly hair has been combed neatly.  He even got Magda to trim his beard for him. He wants to make a good impression.

"Hi," Dieter says, his stomach churning anxiously as your mother stares him down. "I'm Dieter-"

"I know exactly who you are," the woman snaps, arms crossing over her front. "What do you want? I’m afraid I don't have any more daughters for you to buy babies from."

She tries to look around his broad shoulders. "Where is my daughter by the way?"

Dieter shuffles back and forth, his expensive dress shoes scraping the ground. Suddenly all his bravado has left him and he feels much like a chastised child. 

"I wanted to talk to you," Dieter explains. "Just you and me if that’s okay?"

Your mother's brows knit angrily. "So she couldn't even be bothered-"

"She doesn't know I'm here," Dieter interjects.

He goes to say something more when he thinks he notices a car slowing down up the block. Paparazzi. Your mother notices as well because she ushers Dieter into the house, closing the door behind him sharply. 

"You have five minutes." 

Dieter slips off his shoes and follows her to the couch, about to launch into his speech when he sniffs the air.

"Are you baking?"

"Cinnamon bread. My daughters favorite," your mother says, eyes misting. She regards Dieter a moment, softening. "Would you like a piece?" 

"I'd love one." 

He takes a seat on the couch as ordered, watching as your mother brings out a tray holding several slices of cinnamon bread, a tea pot and two mugs.

“This is so fuc- darn delicious,” Dieter corrects himself, wiping the crumbs from his fingers on his pants, much to your mother’s dismay. “I love it.”

Your mother offers a small grunt by way of reply, watching him eat and taking small sips of her tea. Dieter notices you both hold your cups the same way, forefinger and pinky slightly out. It makes him long for you, wishing you were here with him as he attempts this conversation.

But you can’t be, he knows you’re too stubborn for it. Judging by how your mother is looking at him now, it’s a familial trait.

“I wanted to come over and try to explain things.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” your mother snaps, her teacup placed on the coffee table. “You and my daughter made a baby, she’s selling it to you and she never told me.”

"I'm sorry it was a secret for so long,” Dieter says. “It's just because of my notoriety that we had to keep it under wraps.”

“From the world, I understand, but from her own mother?” She shakes her head. “Do you know how hurtful that is? To find out your only child is pregnant because of the tabloids? To think you’re going to be a grandmother and then find out she’s selling the baby off?”

“She signed an NDA," Dieter explains with a wince, knowing how awful it sounds. "I'm so sorry. She hated to do it. It was my fault."

"And your mother?" Your mom huffs. "I bet she knew she was going to be a grandma before the tabloids di-"

She breaks off, irritated when she sees the hollow look in Dieters eyes.

"My uh, my mom isn't alive," Dieter says, fingers tapping anxiously at his side. "She died when I was in my twenties."

"Your father?"

Dieter shakes his head, wincing. Your fierce mother immediately softens her tone, her shoulders lowering.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry to me about anything,” Dieter says in a soft rasp. “I’m the one who you should be mad at. Not your daughter.”

Your mother wraps her arms around herself. "How is she?"

"Hurt. She misses you."

"Must not miss me much. She's made no attempt to call."

"She's worried about what you'll say. Your opinion matters so much to her, you know that. Especially with her dad gone."

Your mother swallows. "They were so similar. So stubborn and..."

Suddenly the dam behind the woman's eyes breaks and Dieter watches her face crumple. 

"I just wish he was here," she says, shoulders shaking. Dieter feels his own eyes filling with tears, his heart aching in tandem. He can't help but reach out and cover her hand with his. 

"I’m so sorry."

"If he was here he would know exactly what to say," your mother continues, allowing his hand to remain over hers. "Michael could always get through to her when I couldn't."

“My mom knew me in a way my dad never did,” Dieter offers after a moment. “Knew exactly the right thing to say at the right time. It’s hard not having that. But you still have time with your daughter. Time that’s wasting with you two being mad at each other.”

Your mother blinks up at Dieter, a slow understanding reflected in her swimming eyes. As if she’s seeing him properly for the first time. He continues on, encouraged that it’s been over five minutes and she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“And I know you think this whole thing with the baby is a spontaneous decision and that I’m massively immature and yeah, I can be. But you need to know that when your daughter told me she was pregnant it was the best day of my life," Dieter says, his voice thick with emotion.

He takes a moment, swallowing and blinking furiously. His hand tightens around your mothers’.  

“But I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve changed. She’s changed me, my son has changed me. I’m not perfect, but I also don’t think there’s anyone in the world that will love your da—grandson more than me.”

Your mother blinks rapidly, her weathered face softening further. “My grandson?”

“If you want him to be,” Dieter explains, suddenly unsure. “If your daughter is okay with it. I don’t have any parents in my life. It would be nice for him to have a grandmother.”

Any lingering distaste your mother may have held for Dieter is wiped away in that moment. The sincerity in his wide dark eyes and the nervous way he twists the rings on his fingers endears her further.

“And I know you’re upset with her about all of this but I promise I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life,” Dieter finishes, his eyes glassy. “Even if she’s in Sacramento doing school. Even if she never wants to see me or our son. I want to make her happy and that means taking care of you too. The house is paid for; your daughter will be taken care of.”

Your mother’s hands move from under Dieter’s to over, clasping his wide hands tightly. She has a gentle smile on her face now, the anger gone from her voice.

“I thank you Dieter. That is a kindness that touches my heart. Knowing I can remain in the same house I raised my family in means more to me than you realize. But it wasn’t your place to do it.”

“I know.”

“I can’t accept it.”

“Please,” Dieter begs with his big brown eyes so round and sorrowful your mother has to blink back a new onslaught of tears. “She’s giving me the world. The rest of your mortgage is nothing in comparison to that.”

Your mother can’t help but laugh out loud at the earnestness in his expression. He grins crookedly as she laughs, wiping tears from her lash line. He waits until she sobers, shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

“Alright, I accept it. But only if you’ll let me cook you dinner every once in a while.”

“And cinnamon bread?”

“And cinnamon bread,” your mother says laughing again.  “As for taking care of my daughter? That is something you’ll have to take up with her. But be warned she’s even more stubborn than me.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dieter grins shyly, causing the two of them to chuckle between themselves softly.

“I’ll call her,” your mother says resolutely. “I need to apologize and tell her she can move back home if she wants.”

Dieter immediately stiffens. He hadn’t thought about this part.

"Actually if its okay I want her to stay with me until the baby is born," Dieter explains, curls falling into his eyes, his mannerisms anxious. "I like having my son nearby."

"And perhaps having my daughter nearby too?" Your mother peers into his face with a small curl of her lips.  “You care for her. More than a boss for an employee. Or a father for a surrogate.”

Dieter looks overcome for the moment, his dark eyes on the floor. He doesn’t know how to respond.

“That’s between you two,” your mother acknowledges. “It’s not my place to say anything.”

Before Dieter can say anything in reply he hears the sound of a frantic key turning in the lock and the front door is thrust open. 

The two of them whip their heads in the direction of the front door to see you stumbling into the house, slamming the door behind you. Your hair is wild, your face flushed and you look extremely pissed off. You look at the two of them on the couch and your brows knit.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

"How did-"

"Magda," you answer before Dieter can finish the question. "Why the fuck are you here at my house with my mom?"

You watch as your mom rises from the couch next to Dieter. Her eyes are wet and when she gazes at your very full stomach she gives a soft little gasp. 

"Honey-"

"Don't honey me," you snap, feeling angry tears welling in your eyes as you glare over at Dieter. "Let's go, Dieter."

"Baby, wait-" Dieter starts, pausing only when you whip back around to fix him with a leveling glare.

He looks so sorrowful standing there between you and your equally broken-looking mother that you find yourself relenting. You have an idea on why he’s here and even if it wasn’t his place you can’t deny that it was kind of him to try.

"Go wait in the kitchen, please."

Dieter opens his mouth to suggest something else but the glint to your eyes has him slamming it shut and nodding. You wait until he's shuffled into the next room before looking back at your mother. 

"Baby?" Your mom ventures gently. 

"He calls everyone that," you lie. 

She nods slowly but you know she doesn't believe you. Your mother also knows you well enough that she doesn’t attempt to sway you.

"Here, come take a seat," she offers motioning to the couch. "Your ankles must be swollen."

You lift a surprised brow but you waddle over to her, settling into the seat with an exhale. You look at Dieter’s leftover cinnamon bread crumbs and frown. How long was he here for? You look back to your mother, shocked at her gentle countenance. You’d expected anger or frustration, instead you see only regret.

"How did you know about the ankles?"

"I was the same when I was pregnant with you," she says coming to sit on the other end of the couch. "I carried high like you as well."

"Really?" You absently drape your fingers over the curve of your stomach.

"Oh yes," your mother smiles, eyeing your bump.

As you sit there discussing this with shy smiles you wish that this pregnancy was normal. That you had a husband and excited family that threw you a baby shower for a child you'd be able to bring home and care for at the end of it all. 

You wish your mom felt comfortable to place her hands on your stomach and to care for this little boy you carry. But she’s holding back her emotions, not wanting to get attached.

After several moments your mom shuffles closer to you on the couch, her hand coming to cup not your stomach, but your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” your mom says, and you’re shocked at the tears pooling in her eyes. “I never wanted… I just… I acted shamefully.”

“I don’t understand why,” you explain, chin wobbling. “We’ve always had a great relationship. Or I thought we did.”

“I thought we did too,” your Mom acknowledges. “But considering you kept this a secret I think I might have done something wrong along the way. You never should have been afraid to come to me with this.”

You don’t know how to answer that.

“You won’t understand until you’re a -” you mom catches herself. “A parent provides for their children, not the other way around. I felt ashamed that you felt you needed to take care of me.”

For a moment you look at her not as your mother, but as a woman. A tired woman who sacrificed so much to see you taken care of and your heart cracks. 

“I like taking care of you Mom,” you explain, swallowing the tears there. “I love you. You’re all I have left. Fighting with you these past few weeks has been awful.”

“I know honey,” your mom says and now she pulls you into her arms, rocking you as if you were still that child who ran to her with a scraped knee or boy troubles. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

“Of course I do,” you say, burying your face in her shoulder as you let the tears flow. For the first time since your father died the two of you cry together, arms wrapped around one another, your son nestled between the two of you. Finally sniffling you pull back, wiping at your eyes.

“Were you mean to Dieter?”

“Tried to be,” your mother replies with a grin. “Impossible to be though. He’s very sweet.”

“He’s been amazing through this whole thing,” you answer honestly, feeling the need to sing his praises to the woman who usually derides him. “He’s been the most supportive, caring version of himself I’ve ever seen. Sober, sweet and I love being around him.”

Your mother’s eyes search yours intensely, so much that you blink wondering what she’s looking for.  Her gaze breaks when a shy Dieter knocks on the wall separating the two rooms.

“Uh, is it okay if I come in?”

Your mother laughs. “We’ll come to you. My daughter needs some cinnamon bread.”

The two of you stand, your mom helping you before letting her hand fall briefly to your swollen belly. You watch her face beaming as she does before her eyes go to yours.

“My baby having a baby,” she murmurs.

The two of you enter into the kitchen hand in hand. Dieter is standing by the sink, his hair even more wild than usual. He was obviously running his hands through it anxiously.

Dieter approaches you both slowly, as if he’s concerned one of you will be furious. When he sees the easy smile in both of your faces and your clasped hands he feels the tightness in his chest release.

“Thank you, Dieter,” you tell him gently as he approaches. He doesn’t push it, doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He just nods his head, smiling and coming to stand next to you. Your mother releases your hand, coming to stand in front of you both.

“Now you can retire,” Dieter offers with a hopeful look in your mother’s direction.

“No,” your mom says shortly, drawing both sets of eyes her way. You feel yourself deflate, closing your eyes for a steadying moment. You can’t stand the cruelty she’s still holding in her heart for Dieter after everything.

“Mom-“

“No, I like my job,” your mother tells Dieter, ignoring you. She comes to stand in front of him, having to look up due to her short stature. “I enjoy it. So I won’t retire. But I will work less and try to enjoy more of my life.”

You both break into easy grins.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your mother’s smile dims a fraction as she gazes between the two of you.

“Dieter has offered me a chance to be the baby’s grandmother,” your mother says quietly. “But that will be your decision my love. I won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”

You swallow. “Do you want to be his grandmother? Even if I’m not in the picture? Even if we have no legal right?”

“I would,” your mother replies without hesitation. You turn your head to face the taller man to your left.

“And you’re really okay with it, Dieter?”

“More than okay.”

Dieter’s eyes are on the ground, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. He wishes his own mother was here, wishes she could have met you. He knows that she would have loved you.

“Then I’m okay with it,” you murmur.

He’s so grateful that his baby will have a grandmother. Even if you want nothing to do with him he’ll forever have this tie to you.

Your mother glances over at Dieter before stepping towards him. 

"Let me see your face," your mother demands cupping Dieter's stubbled cheeks in her hands and forcing his eyes to hers. A few quiet minutes pass, their eyes in silent communion before you see both sets watering.

You watch in shock as your mother leans forward and in an act so naturally maternal kisses Dieter's forehead gently.

"You're a good man," she tells him gently. "A good man who acts silly sometimes."

When tears slip down Dieter’s cheeks you feel your jaw drop.  Your mother pulls him into a tight hug, rocking him as they stand, murmuring something into his wild hair. You breathe unsteadily when his own arms go to wrap around her waist, clinging to her. He looks like a lost boy finding harbor in the embrace of his mother, his shoulders shaking gently as she soothes him in her arms.

She looks over at you, smiling gently. She tugs you over into her arms as well and before long the three of you are embracing standing in the middle of your mom's messy kitchen.

"Will you two stay for dinner?" Your mother asks eyes hopeful when the three of you break apart, all sets of eyes glassy.  

"That would be so great," Dieter says excitedly before you can answer, rubbing at his wet eyes. He wants to take advantage of being in your home. He wants to see where you grew up, where you exist when you're not with him. 

"You're Chilean right?"

"Part, yeah."

"Right, I'm going to pop out to the market," your mom says with a wide grin as she picks up her car keys. "I'll be back in a flash."

Your mother is gone excitedly out the door before you can even process what’s happening. That you’re having dinner with your boss and your mom and your unborn child. It’s all a bit much. And yet the thought warms you.

“So do I get a tour?”

“Sure,” you say grinning. Without thought you take his hand, guiding him through the hall pointing out the rooms, giving small synopsis like “this is where I was standing when my first boyfriend called and broke up with me” and “this is where I fell in the tub and cracked my tooth”

“And you know my bedroom,” you tell him with a smirk. “Very acquainted with the closet, I believe.”

He grins before taking his time looking around your room. Last time he’d been in a rush, but today he looks at everything. He sees the framed photo of you on horseback, the science ribbons for first and second place. He notices a trophy for high school tennis. He grins at the poster of Cillian Murphy behind your door. He sees the Polaroid’s of you and your friends stuck to your mirror.

“You never mention your friends,” Dieter observes pointing at the photo. “How come?”

“I never see them,” you shrug coming over to peer at them. “They all got married, had kids. I was in school and then I was working and we kind of just lost touch.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Honestly? Sometimes. But school and my career just always seemed more important.”

“You don’t think you could have both? A career and a family?”

“Not really,” you shake your head. “Can’t have it all.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno,” you shrug again. “Something has to give.”

“Only if you have a shit partner,” Dieter offers.

Before you can say anything more he’s gone to your bookshelf, looking at the tomes that reside there and muttering their titles under his breath. You watch him just existing in this room, before your reason for rushing over here affronts you.

“Did you pay off my Mom’s mortgage?”

“Yeah,” Dieter replies after a beat, twisting to face you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You stare at Dieter as he says this, the passion in his voice overwhelming you. Since when was this his plan? You’re supposed to take the three hundred grand and go.

“Why do that? You knew I was going to do it.”

“I wanted that money to be for you,” Dieter explains. “Not taking care of the mortgage and everything else. I’d pay for your school too but something tells me you’d refuse that.”

“Correct.”

“Your mother was right, you are stubborn.”

This gets a shocked laugh out of you. “What else did you two talk about?”

“That’s between her and me,” he says with a supercilious look on his face. “I think she might like me better than you at this point.”

Affection swims through your limbs and it carries you to him. Without warning your hands go to his shoulders, mouth pressing gently to his. He accepts this eagerly, his wet tongue dabbing against yours gently.

"Thank you," you whisper against his full mouth. "But you don't have to take care of me."

"I like taking care of you," Dieter murmurs, his nose tracing yours. "You spent so long taking care of me and everyone else; let me take care of you now."

You nod; kissing him again and feeling him slowly back you towards your bed.

“Mia,” you remind him.

“Its fine,” he assures you, hands tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“I’m not going to sleep with you when you’re in a relationship, Dieter.”

“I’m not,” he promises you, “I swear.”

You want to press him for more information. But more than that, you just want Dieter. You need to be as close to him as possible. You need to feel his bare skin on yours, inhale the crook of his neck, taste his lips.

And when he gently urges you onto your back in your childhood bed you don't fight him. You allow him to bring down your shorts and panties and even though you can't see anything other than his hair over your belly you can't stop the gasp that escapes you when his mouth begins to work over your core.  

Moments later after you've come spectacularly for him, groaning out his name with your thighs quivering against his ears and your hands fisting through his hair, he crawls up next to you on the bed. 

He traces over your abdomen, his dark eyes ever widened in wonder as he feels his son underneath his palm. Sunlight filters in through your bedroom window, giving him a haloed effect as he gazes down at you, his mouth swollen and damp.

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal life," you smile sleepily as you run a finger along his lower lip. "After being spoiled by Dieter Bravo school is sure going to pale in comparison." 

Dieter keeps the smile frozen on his face but inside his stomach drops.  Your schooling is going to start soon. He’s going to be separated from you. He feels his sons foot kick him and you both giggle. At least he’ll have this part of you.

He helps you into your panties and shorts before your mother returns shortly after. If she notices your flushed cheeks and Dieters extra mussed hair she doesn't comment on it. 

"I cheated," your mom says with a mischievous little smile that Dieter thinks looks identical to yours as she hands you both your plates when you come to sit at the dining table. "There's a wonderful Latin restaurant in town. They make the best palta." 

The food is just as good as she made it seem. Between the palta and the Estofado and variety of empanadas you’re quickly overwhelmed with taste. You take your time savoring it though, making a note to try more Chilean food in the future.

“So I guess I’ll move back tomorrow,” you say after a hot bite of your stew. “I only have the two suitcases.”

Nothing about moving back appeals to you, aside from seeing your mother on a regular basis. You know for a fact that being away from Dieter will hurt, but perhaps that’s for the best. You need to separate yourself from this silly fantasy.

"You can move back here at any time my love," your mom enthuses before casting a quick look at Dieter's downturned face. "But I think it would be best if you stayed at Dieter's. He has all that space and a pool and that chef-"

"But I don't like to think of you here all by yourself," you insist.

"Honey, don't worry about me. I lived with your father and then you for over thirty five years. I need a break."

You sputter a surprised laugh at this. This whole time you had been painting your mother as this sad tragic figure, when really she's a woman coming into her own just as much as you are. You swallow your mouthful, eyes darting to the man at your left.

"Is it okay if I stay at your place a little longer, Dieter?"

"Of course," Dieter enthuses through a mouthful of avocado. "I told you, stay as long as you like. And now your Mom can come visit whenever she likes."

You smile at this, holding in the urge to kiss him.

When Dieter rests his arm on the back of your chair during the rest of dinner you don't even register it happening. When his fingertips absently trace your upper arm as he listens to your mom talking about her job you don't notice. 

But your mom notices. She notices it all.

On the drive back home your mind is a muddle of things. But mostly your heart swells with the knowledge that Dieter, a man you always thought was chronically selfish did this for you at no gain for himself.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you tell him as you walk back into Dieter’s home a short while later. He’s quiet with a faraway look in his eyes.  

"I know. I just wanted to help."

The two of you are heading to the kitchen, about to put away the leftovers your mother insisted on sending home with you. Dieter takes them from your hands with a soft “I got it” before popping them in the fridge.

Dieter had always struck you as self-centered, the entire time you worked for him. From the flippant way he spoke to people in the industry he disliked, to the cavalier attitude towards other PA’s.

But right now all you can think of is the way he's continually showed up for you. The way he supports you in not only this pregnancy but your schooling, your family, your goals. You see a change in him, one that takes your breath away.

“Dieter?”

“Yeah?”

He sees your eyes and the way they go dark the longer you stare at him. The desire is so clear in your expression.  

He crosses the room and his mouth comes to yours, petal soft. He sighs, hands coming to either side of your neck, thumbs propped against your jaw. You lean into the kiss, your belly sandwiched between the two of you.

"Take me to bed, Dieter."

Dieter doesn't hesitate, his arm bands around your waist guiding you to the bedroom. 

He takes his time undressing you, kissing every part of your flesh he uncovers. He kisses the stretch marks on your belly, and he caresses the extra flesh that pads your body with a reverence that makes you teary.

Your stomach is getting too large for missionary so he sweetly urges you to roll onto your side, not doing anything until you’re comfortable. Only then does he makes sweet and gentle love to you, your head on his arm as he fills you slowly, watching the way your body responds to him.

He holds you delicately at first, not wanting to be too rough. But you’re eager, so fucking eager, and your hand goes to his hip, urging him to go harder, to go faster.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, your thigh over his, your body slowly being pumped into by him. You’re arching, whimpering his name as he holds you against him. Every stroke feels like adoration, every graze of his fingers against your clit feels like more than just desire.

“I need to hear you come, baby,” he murmurs, his nose running along your temple. You turn your face to him, kissing him gently as his thrusts deepen, his lips hot and needy.

“Wanna come for you,” you gasp, your body starting to clench around him tighter and tighter before your head is tilted back against his throat as you cry his name. Your body spasms as arousal coats his cock still buried within you.

“So good for me, so fucking good,” Dieter groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. Before long his eyes roll back and he’s emptying himself into you, hands gripping your chest and cunt, needing you as close as possible.

Slowly your breathing slows and you both grow drowsy. But before you fall asleep you roll until you’re facing him. He looks so beautiful staring back at you with sleepy eyes and his curls spread out on his pillow.

You kiss him gently, hand at his collar before pulling back.

"Dieter, I think you're gonna make an amazing father."

Something about the sincerity in your voice moves him to tears that he has to blink back. He draws you closer to him under the duvet, needing the warmth of your skin, the closeness of your body.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Every word."

Dieter is on a unicorn floaty, half dozing in the late morning sunshine when you ask him.

"Dieter, will you tell me about your mom?"

It comes out of nowhere one day in the pool. You're half stretched out on a purple pool noodle, your lower half submerged in the clear water as you kick lazily. Dieter turns his head when you ask him. 

"What about her?"

You shift on your pool noodle, getting comfortable. "What was she like?"

Dieter takes a moment to compose his thoughts. His lower lip tends to stick out when he does it. 

"Funny. Smart. Dramatic like me." Dieter grins. "She died when I was in my early twenties and sometimes I wanna be furious about all the time I didn't get to spend with her. But then I count myself lucky I had two decades." 

You don't say much to that. You don't know why but you crave more knowledge about Dieter that isn't surface level. You crave more from him, almost like you need to know him better than anyone. 

"She's the one who encouraged me to go into acting," Dieter continues. "She worked two jobs so she could pay for my acting classes."

"Really?" 

"Yeah. She was so excited when I got the scholarship to RADA," Dieter says dragging his hand through the water. 

"She sounds amazing."

"She would have loved you," Dieter says before he can stop himself. For some reason this comment causes your heart to flip. 

He looks momentarily lost in thought before turning his gaze to you. His eyes scan the freckles starting on your shoulders, the light that shines in your hair. He's dazzled for a moment before he remembers that he wanted to ask you something. 

 "What about you? What was your dad like?" 

A little smile breaks out over your features. You rarely talk about your father but right now all that comes to you are good memories. 

"Smart. Scary smart actually. Like, every time we played wheel of Fortune he'd guess it within like the first two letters," you laugh gently. "He was the first person I told about my Masters program. The first person I told about a lot of stuff. He was always my cheerleader." 

"Sounds like a great dad."

"He loved your movies," you say, kicking your feet in the water gently. "He made me sit through a Cliff Beasts marathon one year for his birthday."

Dieter almost falls off his floaty in shock. 

"No shit. Really?"

"Yeah," you give a giggle before turning a bit reserved. "He and your mom would have gotten along, I think.”

"Bet they would have been the most amazing grandparents," Dieter says in a faraway voice.

"Definitely."

Dieter shifts in the unicorn, causing it to squeak. His sunglasses are slid back up his nose and he grows somber. 

"You must be excited about starting school again," Dieter says tightly hoping the disapproval in his voice isn't obvious.

He looks over at you when you don't reply right away. You look conflicted, almost guilty as you glide a hand through the water in front of you. 

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm continuing on with school and everything because that's what I was doing when my dad died," you offer solemnly. 

"Are you?"

"Not sure. When he died I thought it was such a natural next step to use my biology background and go into research." A niggle of doubt is there at the back of your head. "But I'm not sure that's what I want anymore."

"So you might not go back?"

Dieter hopes the eagerness in his voice isn't too obvious. 

"I don't know," you answer honestly before sliding off the pool noodle and paddling in place. "I'm tired. I think I'm gonna have a nap."

Dieter watches you walk up the steps of the pool, ass twitching as you grab a towel and head into the main house. But that's not what causes the grin to start on his face.  

You're not sure about going back to school. 

There's hope. 

"Just this once," Dieter murmurs, his teeth skating along your pulse point. "C'mon baby." 

You’re on all fours, your stomach supported by a variety of pillows. Dieter is behind you, hands on your hips, his body tilting over yours. It’s a Saturday night and he’s just got back from a particularly boring table read.

His hands found yours without question when he got home not long ago, pulling you along with him to bed and whispering into your ear the one thing he’s wanted to hear since he got you pregnant.

You sigh heavily, eyes closed as he sinks into you.

"Please make me come… Daddy.” 

Dieter groans lowly in his throat, his cock driving into you deeply. You're too overwhelmed by the sensation to be turned off by the honorific. And if he’d just left it at that, you could have continued without further distraction.

But Dieter is completely turned on by the expression, his hands coming to hold yours to the mattress as he tilts his mouth to your temple.

"Yeah, you made me a Daddy," Dieter breathes against your ear as he thrusts. "You like that? Huh? Daddy fucking you?" 

“Not at all,” you cringe, unable to help yourself from laughing. The entire ‘Daddy’/‘Mommy’ thing has never turned you on.  “I hate it worse than baby mama.”

Dieter sighs, his motions slowing. "C'mon."

"It's creepy," you tell him. "I don't like the Daddy thing."

"Fine," Dieter grumbles as his motions slow further. "Just wanted a little dirty talk is all."

Dieter’s thrusting has gone from staccato-ed to completely still. You glance over your shoulder at him with your brows raised. His cheeks are red, he’s embarrassed. Dieter rarely gets embarrassed like this and you find it completely endearing.

 “I was just trying to have a little fun,” Dieter pouts, about to pull out of you.

“Hey hey, I like fun,” you tell him, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck so he can’t leave in a huff. You start to push back against his length, gratified when you hear him give a muffled whimper into your shoulder.

“Like maybe you tie me up sometime?”

“You’d let me do that?” Dieter asks in awe, his cock slipping further into you. You groan at the sensation, arm dropping as you gain purchase on the mattress once more. His thrusting is increasing in tempo again, stoking that pleasured spot within you.

“Yeah,” you breathe softly. “Yeah, I would.”

And you mean it. You’ve never done it with anyone else, but you would with Dieter. He doesn’t do things harsh and cruel. He touches you reverently. You trust him. “I’d let you tie my wrists and ankles,” you tell him, body arching as he continues to thrust. “Let you have your way with me.”

Dieter gives a guttural choke at the very thought of it. You tied up, spread eagle on his bed so he could go down on you for hours. Pulling delicious fucking noises from you as you writhe for him.

“Would you want that?” you tease, knowing very well he would.  “Having me at your mercy, Dieter?  Fucking me exactly how you want?”

“Yes,” Dieter almost shouts, “fuck yes I would. Please…. Fuck I…”

His forehead dips to your shoulder blade as he pulls you back and forth against his length, jutting his hips forward. You feel so good, so silken and tight and perfect and he can’t believe this is happening. That you’ve fallen into this comfortably rhythm of give and take. That you can be vulnerable with him like this.

“How would you fuck me?” you ask, feeling your climax approaching. “Tell me, Dieter, I’m so close.”

“Would eat you out for hours. Wouldn’t…. wouldn’t be able to help myself,” Dieter grunts, his cock quickly pressing into you over and over. “Then I’d turn you over...a-and I’d tie your wrists together, mmmph…. And I’d…I’d-“

Dieter doesn’t get to finish that thought because he feels you hit your peak, whining out his name as you climax. Dieter feels your cunt milking his cock and his voice croaks out some garbled gibberish as he empties himself into you.

You fall asleep not long after that, your naked body glowing in the moonlight like some goddess of myth. He realizes he would do anything to keep you like this. Happy and sated and with him.

But mostly, he wants you to want him. 

"You said you got into RADA right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't go," Dieter says as he goes over his latest script suggestion from his agent. "Got a reoccurring part in a soap opera a few weeks before I was starting and then the first Cliff Beasts and then, well, you know the rest."

"Do you still have your audition tape?" 

"It's on YouTube. Some asshole uploaded it when I got nominated for my Oscar."

"Really? Can we watch it?"

"Knock yourself out."

Dieter watches you waddle to the tv room, excitedly bringing YouTube up on the television and typing Dieter Bravo RADA audition. 

You sit on the couch, looking eagerly up at the screen. A very fresh-faced Dieter pops up. 

"Oh my gosh you're so young!" You say with a girlish giggle. "So weird to see you without a beard."

Dieter can't help but casually make his way over to the couch, plopping down next to you and watching his younger self. 

"Hi my name is Dieter Bravo and I would like to submit myself for acceptance into your program," the young Dieter says, eyes bright and smile big. "Today I'll be performing Gloumov’s monologue from The Diary of a Scoundrel” by Alexander Ostrovsky."

"Your voice is so different."

The young Dieter positions himself slightly to the left of the screen. 

"Barely out of puberty." Dieter casts a critical eye over his formerly svelte frame. "And about fifty pounds lighter."

"I like how you look now," you answer honestly. "More manly."

Before Dieter can accept that compliment his younger self is starting the scene. 

"Look into my eyes. Can’t you see there that I’d rather die than cause you a moment’s pain?"

Young Dieter takes a moment, his dark eyes beguiling as he stares into the camera, overcome, before continuing. And there on the screen You see the same transformation that you saw back on set in Ireland. Where Dieter becomes the character. 

"Oh, if you only knew how many times your sweet, gentle smile has stopped me on the very brink of impropriety," the young Dieter pauses, his eyes shiny. 

"But even that day when I forgot myself, you didn’t turn me from the house! Oh, my God, what happiness you’ve given me. What happiness, what happiness!"

A tear is shining on young Dieter's cheek as he gives a soft smile into the camera, a look of relief on his face. 

"Holy shit," you breathe, eyes wide. "Dieter that was ... Really good."

"You sound surprised."

"Well I guess ... I've only really seen you in the Cliff Beasts movies. I didn't know you could, you know, act-act."

"You thought I won an Oscar for having a great personality?"

You give him a playful shove as Dieter's younger self comes back to the screen. 

"Thank you for your time. Hope I see you in the fall."

Dieter plucks the remote from the coffee table about to change it to something less him. He tires of seeing his face on televisions and phones and sides of buses. 

Something captures his attention though, one of the suggested videos on the right. 

"Hmmm, there's a video on home births," Dieter says as he navigates the screen. "Wanna watch? Might prep us."

"Sure."

Thirty minutes later Dieter pauses the television, both of you sitting shell-shocked next to one another. 

"That was a terrible idea."

"I agree."

The camera had captured everything. In HD detail. Up close. Including a very vivid image of a baby crowning.

"That's what's gonna happen to me?" You say in a high pitched voice, struggling to your feet. "I can't do that!"

You've been reading books ever since the strip turned pink, but actually seeing it is totally different.

"A little late for that," Dieter says from the couch watching you begin to pace back and forth in front of the television. 

"That was disgusting," you say with a particularly aggressive jab of your finger towards the television. "Did you know about the placenta? It's like I have to give birth twice!"

"At least it's not twins," Dieter offers weakly. He doesn't miss the irritation that flashes in your eyes. 

"Should we watch the rest?"

"Your call," Dieter shrugs. You take a moment, looking at the television paused on a serious looking doctor. 

You take your seat next to Dieter once more. "Okay. I'm ready."

Twelve minutes later the movie is shut off indefinitely.

"An episiotomy?" You practically shriek before leaving the room. "If that happens I'm charging you extra, Bravo!"

Your mother starts to come over weekly for coffee. The first time she does you show her the nursery. She's all smiles and wet eyes as she walks around the space. You know she's marveling at the high-end designer items, the impossibly soft sheets and ornately carved crib. You never grew up with expensive things like that. 

When the two of you make your way into the kitchen and you make her a coffee she smiles up at you. 

"Dieter told me about the charity he's thinking of creating."

You almost drop the espresso cup that you're holding. "You talk with Dieter?"

"Of course," she nods. "He calls me to update me on the baby and texts the odd photo every now and again."

"What?!"

You're struck dumb by this. Your mother barely texts you, and now she's best friends with your boss? She smiles at your discomfiture.  But you’re blown away, and a little irritated since you also send your mom updates via email almost daily when she’s not here for her weekly (decaf) coffee checkups and snuggles.

"You fit right in here."

"I'm just part of the scenery until the baby gets here" you smile pouring her the coffee and sliding the mug towards her across the counter. "Then it's back to school and on my way to a PhD for research."

You slice up the carrot cake that Petra made for your visit (along with your help), sliding a plate to your mother and taking one for yourself.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," your mom says, gaze curious. "Why are you doing the PhD thing?"

You sit across from her, brows raised. "You know why, Mom."

"It’s just you never wanted one before your father passed," she says lightly. "You said your Masters was enough."

You don't know why but you feel defensive. 

"Well when he died I wanted to do something to honor him I guess. What better way to do that than by helping with the research?"

"Your father was a smart man, he was amazing at his job and so proud of you, you know that," your mother tells you before placing a dry hand over yours. "But his biggest joy in life was being a father."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying I don't want you to dedicate your life to something because you feel like you should. This is your life, my love. You only get one."

"I know."

"There are plenty of ways to give back, to honor your father and still be around to watch your son grow up."

Your hackles immediately rise and she can tell the second they do. 

"I'm sorry," she says quickly when she sees the expression on your face. "Never mind. Let's talk about something else."

The rest of the visit flows smoothly, but you can’t ignore the way your mother looks at you whenever you mention Dieter.

"Taco Bell."

Dieter is woken out of a deep sleep by your lips at his ear. You're curled up together in his bed, your belly prodding his lower back. 

"A Burrito supreme and a large Baja blast… And Cinnamon Twists…And four fire sauce packets."

You're warm against his spine, voice a soft whisper huffed along his earlobe. He’s dazed, his eyes blurry as he attempts to understand what’s happening.

"Huh?"

"I need Taco Bell," you urge. "Please?"

A quick glance at his phone tells him that it's nearing 2:00 a.m.

"S'too late for the delivery apps, baby," he murmurs, patting your thigh companionably as if the conversation is now over. 

For the most part, Dieter can anticipate and appease your cravings. Usually through Petra or food delivery apps. But at almost two in the morning he has access to neither. 

You don't care. 

You've been tossing and turning for hours because all you can think about is the beans and tomato and beef... You're practically drooling already. You pat his bottom politely, trying to signal he needs to get out of bed.  

"The drive thru is open."

"It's late."

"But I need it," you whine. 

You have no interest in attempting to drive one of Dieter's fancy foreign cars he keeps in the large garage. And it's too late to call a town car so you're stuck. 

"No one ever needs Taco Bell. Bringing that shit in here is offensive," he mutters into his pillow. "S'full of filler and chemicals."

You give a soft exhale through your nose, about to flop onto your back in defeat when something occurs to you. Something else that you're craving as well.  

Dieter is drifting back to sleep when he feels the light graze of your hand sliding over his hip. He thinks he's imagining it, but as the sensation continues his cock begins to stir. He goes rigid as your hand slides under his boxers, fingertips teasing his warm length as he groans. 

"You do this for me and I'll do something for you when you get back," you purr, tongue coming to trace his lobe. "Daddy." 

Dieter jumps out of the bed and nearly trips in his pursuit to grab his car keys as he simultaneously tugs on his sweatpants. 

"You want cheesy potatoes too?"

When you wake up at seven months pregnant and see your reflection one morning you almost burst into tears.

You’re standing in front of the dresser mirror in your bikini, the only one left that fits. Your tits are practically bursting out of the cups, the bottoms tie at your hips dig into your flesh. You feel huge, you feel ugly and you feel not yourself.

There’s a knock at the bedroom door. Dieter peeks around, already dressed for the pool, a pink towel slung over his freckled shoulder.

“Swim time?”

Usually you swim by yourself, but Dieter has a rare free morning this week and he wants to take advantage. It had seemed like such a nice suggestion at breakfast, but now you balk, wishing you had anything else to wear but your fucking bikini.

Before it hadn’t mattered, but today you feel gross. You want to cover up as much as possible and you reach for your towel. But Dieter’s eyes are already drifting over your body, his cock stirring.

Dieter takes in the way your stomach protrudes out in the bikini, a beacon of fertility; his son nestled there safe within your body. He moves into the room, the towel dropping without thought onto the floor behind him.

"You're exquisite," Dieter breathes, his hand coming to rest on your belly. You feel his thumb gently rub, his eyes sparkling as he continues to stare at you.

"I look disgusting," you say cringing away from him. Dieter won't let go of your wrist as you try to flee. 

"Are you fucking insane?" 

“Dieter stop,” you say, wincing away from him and trying to pull your wrist out of his warm grip.

"You don't believe me," Dieter states flatly. 

"No I don't," you reply sharply. "It's what everyone tells pregnant women so they don't feel shitty about looking like a house."

Dieter blinks at you as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing before he’s shaking his head. His hands slide to your plush hips, turning you back to face the dresser. His eyes have blown pitch black, and his hands can’t stop from running along your body. 

"Look at her," Dieter groans into your ear. "Look at that sexy thing in the mirror."

"Dieter-"

"Keep looking," he urges you, hand gently forcing your face in the direction of the mirror before his hands slide up your bikini top over your breasts, pebbling the nipples. You swallow at the sensation, not even protesting when he unties it at the back, letting the colorful fabric drop to the ground.

You stand there in nothing but your bikini bottoms, cheeks flushed as Dieter groans deliciously behind you.  His hands come to cup your tits, thumbs grazing the protruding nipples.

“See her gorgeous fucking tits?”

You cringe away from the mirror, hating how you look. But if Dieter is lying about how turned on he is, he’s a better actor than you ever gave him credit for because his cock is swelling against your lower back, stiff and pulsing.

You let him untie your bikini bottoms, finding yourself already slick between your legs when they drop to the ground along with everything else. You watch in the mirror as Dieter sheds his swim shorts before gently urging you to place your forearms on the dresser.

You can only watch his face as he notches his cock at the entrance to your pussy, rubbing the head there and gathering the copious amounts of slick. His eyes flick from your face to your cunt as if he can’t decide which he needs to see more.

“Keep watching yourself, beautiful,” He rasps as he sinks into you, cock thick and full as you gasp. You’ll never tire of that sensation, the first thrust of his cock inside you. Your head falls forward but Dieter’s hand is there, gently making a fist in your hair and urging your face to the mirror.

"See how beautiful she looks when she's taking my cock?"

You can't see shit. Your belly is ballooned so far out you can barely handle it. But you look at your face and you see the heavy eyes and parted lips. You see the way you arch into Dieter’s body and how he towers over you and yeah... It's hot. 

"Cock drunk," Dieter tells you with a swell of pride. "All sexy and sleepy looking." 

His hands come to brace yours on the dresser, his dark eyes fixed on yours in the mirror.

"You see her?" Dieter pants, teeth gritting. "You see her tits bouncing? Feel her sweet pussy taking my cock? She's fucking magnificent. How can you say she’s not the sexiest thing alive?"

The way he talks about your reflection makes you almost jealous until you remember that it's you he's talking about. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Dieter babbles as he nears his orgasm. “Never been more turned on in my fucking life.”

And he means it. He means every fucking word. He can’t stop touching you, kissing your shoulder, your cheek, your mouth when you tilt back to face him. You whimper his name when he starts to fuck into you harder and harder.

“Come deep, Dieter,” you grunt. “Fuck me full.”

He does with one final thrust, painting your insides as he cries out your name.  

Despite this interlude you still suffer with crisis of confidence at times in the coming weeks. Your back is in constant pain. You waddle when you walk. You've never felt less attractive. 

Dieter is obsessed. He can't stop finding reasons to touch you, brushing your lower back when he passes you in the hall.

All pretenses of employer and employee are gone. You’re basically in his bed every night, fucking him whenever you get the chance. Neither of you observe it outright, but it’s there lingering under the surface every time he asks if you’re ready to go to bed. It’s there when you shower together, washing each other’s hair. It’s there when you both murmur good morning and let him kiss you languidly over coffee.

When he catches you napping in the sunshine on his couch he's so taken with you that you wake up to find his curly head between your legs and his mouth bringing you to a gentle orgasm. You keen against his lips, hands going to card through his hair as you come. 

You know why he's like this. It's because things are coming rapidly to an end. Once the baby is here this all ends. This ready access to sex, you lounging around his house. He'll have a newborn and you'll have a new life. You won't see him. You'll have your money, you'll be going back to school, and your mom's mortgage is paid off. 

Dieter knows how you feel about snuggling and he goes to pull away. 

"Don't," you say, arms outstretched, mouth twisted into a pout. Dieter stares at you in surprise, big puppy dog eyes wide. It makes you melt. He wraps himself around you, face nuzzling into your neck. The two of you snuggle there as you flick on the television to a Christmas special.

Just when you think Dieter is becoming a mature and sensible adult you feel him sigh heavily behind you.

“I'm not watching that depressing Christmas movie!" Dieter insists when It’s a Wonderful Life starts up. "I wanna watch the Muppet Christmas Carol!"

He can’t understand why you can’t stop laughing.

One quiet morning with Dieter filming audio reshoots for the Rogue Duchess you sit at the kitchen table, pensive. You stare at the pro and con list you've made sitting in front of you. 

Ever since the conversation with your mother you've been second guessing your next steps post birth. Are you just doing it because you think you should be? Are you doing it because that's what you were doing when your dad died? Are you doing it because of misplaced guilt?

Your dad had been so proud of you, telling everyone about your Masters problem and how you were well on your way to a PhD like him.  

He talked fondly about having two doctors and a nurse in the house, joking that your home would become like Grey's Anatomy. 

Even then you'd felt a bit of the pressure to perform. To pursue a PhD to make him proud. In all your focus and pursuit you'd never really stopped to ask yourself... Is this what you want? 

Pros - honor dad - get to be called doctor at the end Cons  - no social life - have to move to Sacramento for several years - not guaranteed a job I like when I graduate - away from mom  - STRESS - possible burnout - job market is competitive - won't necessarily make me happy

You need to add something else. Something that's been in the back of your head screaming for your attention. You raise your pen to the paper, adding your final item to the con list. 

- Too far away from Dieter and Bubble. 

And then a sentence you write and then immediately erase before crumpling the entire paper up in a ball.

- I'm in love with Dieter. 

[8:43am] D: It hasn't even started and I'm bored out of my fucking mind

[8:44am]: Dieter it'll be fun.

[8:44am] D: no it won't. I HATE these fucking marathon interview days 

Hours and hours of sitting with Mia and the rest of the crew talking about the upcoming film being released in a few months. He's covered in concealer and powder, his stylist has him in some absurdly patterned shirt that itches and he desperately needs a cigarette. 

[8:45am] D: I wanna be at home with you---

He hesitates before deleting that last message. He can't send you messages like that. You're not dating, no matter how much it feels like you are. He feels twitchy now, all out of sorts as he thinks about you home and waiting for him.

He sneaks off to the corner of the hotel, hoping he can get off a few puffs before Diane wrangles him back inside. 

He lights his cigarette, puffing away. He scans the space to make sure it's just hotel employees before he brings out his phone, going through his photos. He lands on the one from the other night, you mid laugh as the Jenga tower falls. You look so happy, so at ease. 

He’s so ridiculously in love with you.

How can he let you go? How can he go from seeing you every day to you becoming a stranger? You've got one foot out the door at all times and he doesn’t want to hold you back from your dreams. 

It was so easy to play house these past few months. To pretend like you were his. He was such a fool.

"Spare one?"

Dieter fumbles the phone, shoving it a hastily back into his jacket pocket. Its Mia dressed in a sleek black number, her makeup and hair perfect. She motions to the cigarette between his long fingers. 

"My last one," he says ruefully. 

Mia holds out her manicured fingers in his direction. "A quick puff then."

Dieter relents, handing it off to her. She takes a long drag, enjoying the curl of the smoke as the two of them stand shoulder to shoulder in silence. It feels awkward being together alone, the two of them haven't spoken since Prague. Dieter feels the need to fill the silence. 

"How's Sam?"

"He's good," Mia nods. "He's not secretly in love with his assistant so it's already much better than my last relationship."

Dieter can't help but let out a small chuckle at that.  Mia has been seen all over the tabloids in recent weeks with her hunky new Scottish co-star. Mia looks at Dieter with a small tilt of her head, squinting up at him.

"You tell her yet?"

"Tell who what?"

Mia takes another drag off the cigarette, giving him a leveling look.  "You know who and you know what."

Dieter says nothing, watching as Mia holds the cigarette aloft. She gives a dramatic sign when she sees. He's going to make her have to say it.

"Have you told your PA that you're fucking crazy about her," Mia says flatly. "That you want to marry her and have tons of little Bravo's running around."

"I do not."

"Maybe just the one little Bravo then," Mia smiles, handing him his cigarette. He feels her heavy gaze on him and he knows that she deserves answers. He put her through a lot and she has been gracious as hell about it.

He sighs heavily before twisting to face her head-on. "No, I haven't."

"Why not?"

"It’s…complicated." 

"What's complicated about love?"

"She told me she doesn't want to be a part of the baby's life."

"Back when she thought you only wanted to be together because you got her pregnant."

"She doesn't want me."

"Dieter I see how she looks at you. The girl is utterly besotted." 

"Might want to tell her that," Dieter huffs in forced amusement. 

Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you’ve really never made it clear how you feel about Dieter. Yes, you like the sex and you laugh with him. But you’ve never actually made overtures, talked about the future. You think of a future that doesn’t include him or your son.

Mia pauses for a moment, thinking about something. Her eyes scan the vicinity and before Dieter can do anything Mia grips him by the collar and plants a chaste kiss to his lips. Dieter pulls back immediately, his face cloudy.

"What the fuck-"

"You'll thank me," Mia promises.

He goes to say something to her about how uncool that was but a text from you sails in, almost as if fate is giving him the prompt he needs.

[8:58am]: If I wanted to postpone school for a little bit, do you think I could still stay with you? I could pay rent and everything. I think I just want to reconsider some things. Dunno if school is where I want to be right now.

“Fuck yes,” Dieter breathes, re-reading the message several times to make sure he’s not reading it wrong. You want to stay. You want to stay longer with him. He's still staring at your text with a goofy smile on his face when Mia’s voice sounds out beside him. 

“Dieter, c'mon! Interviews are starting.”

He shoves his phone into his pocket, his grin bright as he follows Mia back inside the hotel for the marathon of interviews.

You want to stay.

The alert comes through on your phone, the setting still stuck on sending you Dieter Bravo related news items. 

You're relaxing on one of the chairs in the backyard, one hand gently rubbing your belly, the other holding your latest crime thriller novel. 

When the alert goes off its instinct to shut the book and retrieve the phone from the table beside you. Normal to scan the links that show up. 

BRAV-ROWE ROMANCE BACK ON? 

You sit up slowly, holding your expansive belly and grunting angrily. You continue reading as you walk inside, pacing around the kitchen. 

Bravo, 40, and Rowe, 25, were spotted earlier today stealing kisses between interviews for their upcoming release The Rogue Heiress. What’s setting tongues wagging is that Rowe has also been recently seen getting cozy with Sam Heughen, 43, back in her native England only last week. Was Sam just a distraction from her real feelings for Bravo? Or is this just a cleverly executed publicity stunt for their upcoming film? 

You slam your phone down onto the counter, irritation flooding you all over. 

What the fuck?

Here you are pining over this guy and he's off kissing his ex? 

Even their couple name is adorable. It fits. Your cheeks are flaming red at the realization that you fell for it. You fell for his lines, for his sweet eyes and sweeter mouth. You let yourself get swept up in a romance that isn't even real.

Dieter is an actor. He knows how to fake anything.

"I'm so fucking stupid," you say shaking your head. Bubble gives a gentle kick, drawing your attention back to the present.

 “Sorry honey. Mom’s not stupid. Just fucking naive.”

It's dark when Dieter finally makes it home, shrugging of his jacket and toeing off his shoes. He wants to go to bed, to hold you after this long and boring day. 

But you're not in bed. You're seated on the couch with the TV off. Your crossword book is beside you but you don't look like you've been working on it. Dieter feels a smile break out over his features at the sight of you in his home. 

"Hi baby," he murmurs as he approaches, confused when you slowly turn to face him with a furious look on your face. "What’s wrong?"

“Have anything to tell me?”

“Uh…no?”

He watches you throw your head back and give an obviously false laugh. “No?”

“No.”

“Kiss any old girlfriends lately, Dieter?”

Dieter is stunned. How the hell did you find out about that? "How-"

"It's all over TMZ and now all the other news outlets," you say, teeth clenching. Dieter thinks about the way Mia checked around them before kissing him. You take a seat on the couch, arms crossed over your chest.

"I didn't just go kiss her," Dieter defends, coming to sit next to you. "She kissed me."

"Didn't really seem like you were fighting her on it."

You hold up your phone where the picture of Mia kissing Dieter is blown up. It's clear you've been studying the picture. Mia’s hand is on his collar, Dieter’s hand is on hers, but only so that he could pull it off. But to the outside viewer this looks very intimate.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“No? Because what it looks like is you kissing your ex girlfriend.”

Dieter takes in the red of your cheeks and the way you’re clenching your jaw and despite everything a little thrill goes through him. 

"Why are you so upset?" Dieter purrs.

"I'm not," you insist.

You feel furious and out of sorts and you can't tell him why because you'll sound like a jealous girlfriend which you absolutely aren't. 

"You sound upset."

"Well I'm not." You chew at your bottom lip angrily. "It's just rude you know? Sleeping with me and seeing Mia. Does she-"

"I'm not seeing Mia," Dieter interjects. 

"I have eyes Dieter," you scoff. 

"She gave me a quick peck after we talked about Sam Heughan, her boyfriend, who she is in a committed relationship with."

"Yeah right."

Dieter stops a moment to take in your flushed cheeks, bright eyes and the arms that cross in front of you. You don’t want him to be seeing Mia and that can only mean one thing and that makes Dieter feel warm all over. His arm is on the back of the couch, almost behind your shoulders.

"You're jealous."

"I'm not," you insist, face heating. 

"Then why are you acting like this?" He probes, shifting closer to you on the couch. "Tell me the truth."

He’s so close and he smells so good and you just fucking… you just…

"Because you're mine."

It comes spilling out of you like a dam, a rush, a torrent of words that once said cannot be taken back. But for once you don’t want them taken back. You want him to know exactly what you mean, especially as you launch yourself towards him, your arms going around his neck, your stomach plump between the two of you. Dieter is grinning so widely his face might crack as he gazes at you on his lap. 

"I'm yours?"

"Yes," you all but growl, pushing him backwards until his broad shoulders hit the seat cushions of the couch and you begin straddling his prone body. His cock is rock hard through his pants, pressing into your core through your panties. 

You tug them to the side, not even bothering to take them off. Dieter is already sliding off his pants and boxers, smiling up at you eagerly. He's pulsing between your thighs, hissing with pleasure as you notch him at your soaked entrance. 

"Not hers," you grunt, sliding down his length with an aching groan escaping both of you. "No one else's. Just mine. You understand me, Bravo?"

You're staking your claim and Dieter is turned on out of his mind. You've never been possessive over him before, never been so commanding. Never been so clear in your desire for him. 

"Yes!"

He wishes he could hold you in his arms, but being laid out flat on his couch while you ride him isn't exactly torture. Your pussy milks his cock, a vice -like grip around his thick length. 

"I'm yours," Dieter repeats, thrusting up into your wet heat. "Just yours, baby."

"You only fuck me," you command, starting to bounce up and down in his lap the best you can with your swollen belly. His expression is pure delight, his wide palm on your hips. 

"Yes."

"Only I make you c-come," you try to sound authoritative but your hips are rolling over his and he feels so good. You're barrelling towards an orgasm with every husky assurance from him. 

"Only you," Dieter assures you, hands tightening around your gyrating hips. "And I only wanna make you come, baby. Only want you in my bed. Only you."

He's rambling and your eyes are cheating to the back of your head. You crest so fast, hands flying to the back of the couch so you can steady yourself. His hands slide up under your shirt and go to your breasts, pinching your pebbled nipples as you keen. 

"C'mon baby," Dieter encourages as he watches your head tilt back. "Take what's yours."

"Mine," you pant as you start to come, head lolling forward. Your body starts to give small little twitches as you groan. "Mine, mine, mine."

"Yours," Dieter breathes, gazing up at you. "Only yours."

He feels you come, soaking his cock with your release. He groans at the sight of your fucked out expression, your hips still undulating. 

"Now you," you command in a soft mewl. "Come for me, Dieter. Give my what's mine."

Your hands go to brace yourself on his chest, your hips lifting only to slide harshly back down, taking him as deep as possible. He feels a pleasurable stripe go up his spine.  

"It's all yours," he offers before his own pleasure overtakes him at the sight of your heavy-lidded expression. He comes deep, deeper than he ever has and he does so whimpering your name. 

You're both panting and you groan slightly as you pull yourself off of him, sitting back against the couch. Dieter rests there a few moments, his softened cock resting against his belly. He's smiling up at the ceiling like a madman. 

Then he's stripping off all his clothes and standing before urging you to do the same. 

"I'm fucking you in the shower," Dieter tells you as he pulls your t-shirt up over your head. "I want you to give me another one."

But you don't just give just him another one because it doesn't end in the shower. Or on the kitchen counter after a midnight snack. But in his bed where he urges you to the end of the bed and fucks you slowly standing next to the mattress, your thighs spread beautifully for him as his cock lazily saws in and out of you.

His hands grip your thighs tightly, urging you to bounce against his hips. Your bodies move together, the pleasure increasing.

“So good,” you croon, your forehead dotted with sweat. “You feel so perfect, Dieter.”

You’re babbling, high on the pleasure of his cock and his nearness. Dieter revels in it, the way you’re unabashedly giving him praise, the way you don’t stop him or shy away from him whispering sweet nothings into your neck.

“And I’m all yours,” he promises. You almost think you can read love in his eyes as they gaze down at you.

 “I’m all yours,” you tell him back without thought.

His thrusts increase, his hands holding you tightly, fingers splayed over your clit. He teases and rubs until you’re on the brink of another orgasm and you finally come in tandem, both of you trembling.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, kissing behind your ear as you shiver.

You don’t tell him you’re not his girl because right now you feel like you could be.

You wake up the next morning in Dieter’s bed with one of his legs wedged in between yours, his arm draped over your middle and his forehead against your neck. It feels right and it feels perfect and as your sleep clears…A mixture of shame and disbelief overtakes your body.

What the fuck was that last night? 

You'd been almost mad with rage at the sight of that TMZ pic. And when he'd come onto the couch you'd just felt this strange possessiveness overtake you. 

Just want you in my bed. Only you. 

Those words were so nice to hear. So gratifying. And you believed him about Mia and the photo. It had been all too easy to move past it, to allow him to lick into your mouth as he fucked you. You glance over your shoulder to see him sleeping, his hair falling into his closed eyes. 

Mine. 

No. Not mine. 

He's not yours. He can't be.

He's Dieter Bravo and you're you. Thinking that somehow you could be together is a delusion.  Dieter just hates being alone. And he knows that being a father is a huge deal. He knows that it's all going to rest on his shoulders and he's looking for a lifeline as your due date grows rapidly closer.  

He doesn't actually have feelings for you.

It's just that Mia might be out of the picture and he's clinging to whatever is in the vicinity - today it happens to be you. Tomorrow it'll be whatever model he's paired with at the next photo shoot. 

You've known him long enough to know his moods and his ever changing interests. In a couple of months when the baby is here and you're in Sacramento he'll probably have forgotten your name. 

The thought hurts if you linger on it. He's just clinging to a lifeline and you can't be around when he does inevitably move onto the next woman because it'll break your heart. 

You need to get the apartment now. You need to find out where you're going to be staying next semester. You need to be planning your life post birth. 

He didn’t even write back to your text yesterday even though it said he’d read it. The one asking if you could stay longer, that you were considering postponing school. And you know why – because this wasn’t the plan. Because Dieter’s interest is waning and you know it.

You pull yourself from the bed, out of Dieter’s warm arms and you try your best not to look back at his still sleeping form as you tiptoe out of the room.  

You return sometime in the afternoon to Dieter storming around the kitchen, looking frantic. He barrels towards you, tugging your hands that you quickly slide out of his grip.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?"

“I had it on silent.”

"Where were you?"

"I was at the library," you say as if it were the most obvious answer. Dieter looks like he’s been fisting his hands through his hair all day.

"You're not supposed-"

"I know I’m not supposed to leave, but I wore sunglasses and no one recognized me." You put your purse down on the ground. "I just needed somewhere quiet to organize my thoughts. I needed to research apartments without distractions."

"Apartments," Dieter repeats slowly. 

"Yeah, for next semester," You say breezily as you push past him and make your way into the kitchen. He follows hot on your heels like a desperate puppy all big eyes and furrowed brows.

"Next semester? I thought you were thinking of postponing?"

He watches you glance around in the fridge before pulling out a bowl of blueberries that Petra has left for you. 

"No point," you say, popping one in your mouth. "I decided I need to get focused and start as soon as possible. That reminds me though; I don't think I can really stay long after the baby is born. I'll want to get to Sacramento as soon as possible."

Dieter looks as if you've punched him. He's gone pale, his large eyes luminous. He's sagging against the counter as if his own body can't support him anymore. 

"What? Why?"

"I told you, I need to focus," you tell him, popping the blueberries back into the fridge. "And I know that I don't get paid until the Bubble is born but I'm wondering if I can get half now? I need to put a down payment on an apartment out there."

"You're buying an apartment in Sacramento?"

"Of course," you say, taking a deep breath. "I'll be in school for a few years; the rest of my Masters then the PhD, then my residency out there. Makes sense." 

"But ... You weren’t even sure about it," Dieter says weakly. 

"That was before I really thought about it," You say, shrugging. "I can't sit around my boss's house all day organizing his next manicure and making sure his latest fuck buddies sign NDA's."

Dieter straightens immediately, his jaw clenching.

Too far.

As soon as you say it you wish you could take it back. It's an ugly, unfair thing to say and you both know it.  But you feel exposed, like a raw nerve.

Dieter feels everything inside him twisting hideously. He was so fucking deluded to think you'd stay, to think you'd fallen for him the same way he has for you. He wants to scream at his idiocy. 

How are you just so okay with this? How can you walk away like the last several months have meant nothing?

Dieter can only stare at you, his eyes going from wide to narrowed. His hand curls into a loose fist at his side, the other still braced on the counter. 

“There's a contract," Dieter all but growls. "You get your money once the baby is born."

"I know,” you say quickly. “It's just that the tuition is due this month to hold my spot for next semester."

"That's not my problem."

You take a step back, brows knitted. You weren’t expecting that. 

“But-“

"You signed a contract stipulating that you wouldn't get the money until the baby is born," Dieter croaks. "So there's your answer."

He turns from you, heading down the hallway to his art studio. You follow close behind, waddling quickly to keep up. 

"Dieter I can't afford the place without that money."

"Read the contract," he snaps. "You signed it."

He quickly moves into the studio, slamming the door behind him.

He hears you on the other side of the door, breathing heavily. He’s worried you’re crying.

Finally he hears you shuffle away and he moves to the window, sitting in the chair he reserved for you when you return home with your son. He imagined painting both of you, the light bathing you both in a dreamy glow.

Dieter is devastated, his head resting heavily in his hands as he fights back the urge to sob.  

What the fuck happened? One minute you were insisting he was yours, your bodies working together beautifully. The next second you're telling him you're halfway out the door. 

You don’t want to be a mother. You never did. You always made that perfectly clear. He was just too besotted to understand.  He looks around his art room, feeling a fury building within him. What the fuck has this all been for? Why the fuck is he so fucking stupid? Why did he have to go and fall in love with you? 

He needs drugs. He needs alcohol. He needs something to take this stabbing pain away. And just as his trembling hand goes to his phone to call up Corey Brigham he glances up at the painting he's been currently working on. 

It's an oil painting image from a dream he had recently. One where he stands in the ocean up to his knees, the wind gentle and the day mild. Dieter is holding you back against him, his head over your shoulder, both of you gazing down at the tiny infant in your arms. 

And there's his son, eyes closed, a soft smile on his face. The image of what Dieter things he’ll look like.

My son. 

The cell phone is pushed back into his pocket. He's not living just for himself anymore. He's got a son he will put before himself in all ways. His son will not grow up with an absent father like Dieter did. 

All of a sudden his studio door bursts open. You look harried as you stride in, fixing him with a glare. He knows you want to tell him off and he wishes you didn't look so beautiful when you’re angry. 

"You're not supposed to be in here," Dieter insists, feeling a stab of anxiety go through him as you walk towards him. He leaps up from the chair, almost tripping over himself in his desire to usher you out of the room.

“We were in the middle of a conversation,” you snap. “You can’t just-“

Your cutting remarks die before they can be completely formed because as you glance around the room your eyes widen in shock. 

Dieter’s art room has always been a mix of canvas, paint spills, old coffee cups and grotesque sculptures. But right now all of the painted canvases are positioned around the room, sketches lining the drafting table under the window.

And they are all of you.

Ones of you with your belly swollen, sleeping on the couch. Others of you cross legged at the table hunched over your laptop. There's one of you with your face serene as you lay the bathtub, that night Dieter and you talked for hours. Snapshots of time, your belly at different stages. 

"Are these..." You go over to a stack of sketches. “Are these all me?”

Dieter is silent, his eyes drifting to your face when you take in the portrait he did of the three of you. Your hand goes to your belly instinctively as you take in the image.

“I always imagined he’d look like that,” you say with a soft little huff.

Your eyes go to the drafting table, sketches in charcoal sticking out to you. Some are dated as far back as Ireland, some even before that. Your fingers linger on one in particular of you chewing your bottom lip in thought, a pencil raised between your fingers. You glance at the date. 

“This was before I was pregnant.” You trail off, gaze moving back to his face. "How long have you been sketching me?"

Dieter shrugs and for the first time since you've known him he looks truly embarrassed. 

"A while." 

You move slowly towards him. "Why?"

He sighs, only steps away from you now.

"Isn't it obvious?" 

You swallow, feeling your heart pound a devastating rhythm. No, this can’t be real. He can’t be suggesting what you think he is.  And yet as he stands there, dark eyes wet you can’t help but wish for it to be real.

“I'm crazy about you,” Dieter confesses.

No, not confesses. That would suggest he wanted to keep it hidden, when it’s anything but.

“I just want to be with you all the time. I want to share everything with you. My life, my home, my everything. I want you here in this house with our son. I want to support you going back to school. I want to make you happy in any way I can but I want you to do it as mine.”

You want to say something, to say anything to this grand romantic speech, but your throat has tightened and your mouth gone dry. All you can do is stand there, staring at him like a pregnant idiot.

“And I know that’s selfish to say and I know it’s useless because you don’t love me back but I-I just needed you to know before you left,” Dieter continues, tears wetting the side of his cheek.

“You don’t need to love me back. Our son is a piece of you and if that’s all I can have of your love, that’s enough for me. He’s more than enough. I just. . . I needed you to know the truth, all of it. I fell for you way before you got pregnant, but after this time together I just, I’m...I love you.”

And now his tears are brushed away by the back of his hand and he looks as if he’s going to turn away from you, overcome with everything that he’s just admitted.

You can barely see through the tears in your eyes. All the feelings that have been swirling within you compel you to pitch forward, your hands outstretched, his name on your lips.

You’re about to cross the room, desperate for his touch when a stab of pain goes through you sharply, causing you to almost come to your knees.  You begin doubling over with a cry as Dieter runs to close the distance between you, his hand immediately on your back.

“What is it, baby?”

Dieter is confused when he sees an overwhelming amount of clear liquid running down your legs. Your eyes are round, wide and terrified when you look up to him.

"Dieter, I think I'm going into labor." 

taglist: @caramilena @lovely-vamp-princess @annieispunk @lu62 @getitoutofmymindwrites @noisynightmarepoetry @lizzie-cakes @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @missladym1981 @tammythr @swankyorange @jupiter-soups @dontknow446 @fluffygoffpanda @doblasftcisco @sunnysinbar @dinomecanico @eff4freddie @fancypants1215 @moel-jiller @picketniffler @khxna @spookyxsam @fancypants1215

@getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 40 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | lesson 39

the end of an era (season 2)

normal and hard spoilers

oh baby :(

see every time i remember how sheltered diavolo is it makes me hate his father that much more. he grew up with everything in the world, but practically nobody to share it with.

diavolo had to have been smart enough to have caught onto the reason behind mephisto's attachment to him at an early age. he might be dense, but he's not stupid. even if he and mephisto did end up becoming really good friends, diavolo knew early on that their proximity was for business and royalty purposes only, and that friendship and a genuine relationship was second to their professional relationship

i feel like this is why he initially thought of the brothers as treasures in regard to status rather than as people, and the mindset shifted to seeing them as treasures in regards to the relationship he formed with them. he wanted genuine connection, but forming a professional connection before a genuine relationship was so deeply ingrained in him that he defaulted to it without even realizing it

...he can't be fucking serious

GET HIM OUT I BEG

he would've done this regardless of the option we picked during the angel's trial i hate it here...can't he take a class or smth instead of experimenting on us

i'm gonna kill him /j

i'm a whore in the game so i technically date everyone at once. but why does he NEVER say i love you back ????? not even in the first game ????????

like ok you're a time demon who shouldn't get attached to anyone and you choose to stay unattached bc you'll lose everyone anyways blah blah blah but at least indulge me a little bit 💔

SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY I LOVE THEM

i feel like they know this is their last goodbye yk? obviously barbatos does, but this feels very, very final on their part. maybe it's a different version the feeling they have when they go into mc's room, like they can feel mc being pulled away from them physically

what if the end of the lesson or the story in the hard part of the lesson is them portalling back to their timeline and the brothers getting a glimpse of their alternate selves? and then everything clicking into place after mc leaves?

the fact that simeon has as many doubts about his father's intentions as lucifer and his brothers did really solidifies my belief that he wanted to, in the worst case, fall with the brothers. and if he didn't fall, he'd at least have begged for answers as much as lucifer did before the war. he was demoted after the war for helping the brothers in canon, and i feel like he still beats himself up about it because of the side he chose. him and raphael both, but raphael is better at hiding it

(i have a whole post about simeon and michael before the war here)

i've said this about a million times but...

the brothers ever 🫶🏽

they're such shitheads but also extremely concerned i love their dynamic sm

SEE I TOLD YOU ‼️ HE MASKS HIS FEAR WITH ANGER (even though i'm pretty sure this was confirmed in canon in the og game and in nb s1)

him admitting that he was scared though? putting his pride aside and actually talking about his feelings for once? this is proof of how much he trusts mc, how much he loves and cares for them, even if he can't explain why the feelings he holds for them are so strong

it also shows that he's thankful to have someone who will care about and protect his brothers as much as he does, and some of the weight of the "oldest brother" mantle has been lifted. it allows him to be vulnerable and at least a little more carefree, which is why he's seen joking and laughing with his brothers so much more often in the later lessons in comparison to season 1 and early season 2

i feel like i'm SUPOOSED to reach bc why would he phrase it like that ??? i don't think he knows...but he's really intuitive

or maybe this was a way of the devs using him to unofficially-officially send us off and into our original timeline. idk. i'm reaching but they made me

THEY DID NOT

oh i'm really gonna cry...they took what we wrote in season 1 and showed it to the boys

i COMPLETELY forgot we even did this 😭 god i'm gonna cry i love this game sm

I KNEW NO TIME PASSED THANK GODDDDDD

i don't think i'd be able to handle it if the same amount of time passed across realms

i also think this is why they emphasized "time soup" so heavily, you can be put anywhere at any time as if nothing had changed

...i can't believe it's over

...for now at least

well time to read the HDD story and catch up on devilgram

[saintforan]

Well now that you made it MLB I have to chant this, LOVE SQUARE LOVE SQUARE LOVE SQUARE. You know, for the extra brain rot. The fun dynamic of getting to draw two idiots pining and blushing around their crush in different scenarios without ever knowing.

ur so real for that anon, i won't lie, the love square is the main thing that got me HOOKED into MLB LMAOO so yea have it for sure that theres a love square here, and it takes the same direction as the series, although their dynamics are a lil bit different from it: made this chart to explain it better LOL

Down here is a bit of story about how they crushed on each other ir you are interested:

(im sorry for the amount of rambling that ur about to read here)

dogday crushed on catnap the day they met, nap joined the same hs dogday was in as a new student and dogday recognized him as this famous and rich engineer's (prototype cof cof) son, said son was well known to be the face of said engineer's company, and also was an insanely gifted and smart teenager. Well, another one of his atributes, although shadowed by his brain, was his very handsome and elegant appearance, so lets just say he was VERY attractive to dogday, and that made him interested, but it wasnt a full crush, yet.

Later on the day they both stayed late at hs for different reasons (long story short, dogday was on a club, catnap was finishing his admission process) and came out of it at the same time, catnap was waiting for someone to pick him up and dogday took it as oportunity to talk to him, cause catnaps cold robot-like personality was characteristic of him, but he wondered what his actual personality was like, so it's worth the try!

He went over to him and engaged into conversation, during this talk they realized they were unintentionally matching necklaces and well, that made them become friends easily, after this they became really good friends as they, although didn't have a lot in common, understood each other very well, and well after actually talking to him dogday developed a very big fat crush on catnap as he got to know he was actually really sweet when talking to a friend. From there on they became really really close, eventually they became best friends and dogdays crush on catnap got bigger the more he got to know him.

As for catnap, dogday was his first friend ever, all his life he was homeschooled because of his father wanting a child as smart as him that could inherit his company, and therefore never got to make any friends as he got basically forced to became insanely smart, he got sent to highschool because his father realized that his child didn't have any good social skills (not that his father considered that important, but he wanted his successor to be able to be a leader and without social skills thats impossible lol) and therefore sent him to study people lol.

When dogday came to him and they became friends he became very attached to him emotionally (sadly not in a romantic way) and therefore became best friends.

Now going into them as heroes! (If you read all the way here, I'm sorry for this amount of lore)

im going to refer to them as BC Catnap and LB dogday as i still dont know what their hero names should be lol (BC for black cat and LB for ladybug)

BC Catnap's crush on LB dogday is very much the same as the og chat noir and ladybug dynamic, but in this case BC Catnap crushed WAY harder than chat noir, to not make this post any longer, basically BC Catnap liked LB dogday on their first mission, he became attracted to the way LB dogday's hability as hero was, he admired him very much and that admiration evolved into romance bc at one point on their first mission, BC catnap got into a pretty dangerous situation and LB dogday saved him risking his own life, and after the mission was done LB dogday was pretty concerned for his well-being and handled him very carefully, and well, in poor catnaps life no one had cared for him that much before, so he fell for LB dogday's soft caring personality + the admiration he had for him before, he basically became LB dogday's N1 fanboy lmao.

From there on he became very flirty with LB dogday (the plagg effect strikes again, making his holders become sassier and flirtier) and he was very obvious with his feelings, LB dogday found the constant flirting annoying and therefore only considers BC catnap his work buddy cause he finds him way too annoying to be his friend, although with time they do became closer, and they start telling each other a bit about their personal lives without revealing their identities (Ex: LB dogday telling BC catnap about how hes crushed with his best friend ever since they met but although he pursues him romantically he doesn't want to push anything so he doesnt ruin their friendship, no, BC catnap doesnt mind that LB dogday is crushed on someone else, for him LB dogday is the crush he will love with all his heart no matter what bc he alr knows his feelings arent reciprocated, and hes alr with that but he keeps the flirting cause thats how he likes to be with his crush lol)

theres a lot more to this but this post is already REALLY LONG so i'll just keep till here

[stromuprisahat]

Second Army disorganization

Siege and Storm- Chapter 14

One of the most frustrating and famously nonsensical passages of Grisha trilogy, easily explained through doylist approach- the author's inability to write strategy or politics and demands of the genre, requiring a weak, unfit heroine to defeat immensely powerful opponent way out of her league:

Alina: Oh no, they dare to oppose me again! :(

Isn't that why would you want to establish a council in the first place? So you get constructive criticism and suggestions to do things better?!

My objections to the notion Alina came up with representation of Grisha can't be more obvious:

Army is a structured organization. There are ranks and councils by default. No amount of ignorant teens will persuade me calling it "Second" makes it otherwise.

Any big organization has a structure. Even if Second Army were only about education, there would be councils and posts on different levels. Hell, school system works that way.

Alina: I'm gonna have the useless ones represented, because we're not doing things like the Darkling, but that doesn't mean I'll respect them myself or abandon my prejudices. Fucking nerds. Weidos...

Another YA nonsense- you cannot put people into categories based on their physical predispositions, and expect the mental ones to fit accordingly. You can have a huge, muscled guy, skilled in delicate handiwork. You can have a tiny wisp of a girl beating the living shit out of you (popular trope by itself).

Now why should sensitivity to metals get you a spot in labs, if you're a strategic genius? Or incredibly skilled, witty rhetorician? Isn't it more likely you'd be required to complete basic training to stay healthy and prevent accidentally endangering others, while being assigned to whatever you're most useful at?

And what about those weak or less intelligent ones? Are they bringing coffee and arranging entertainment?!

It also fits this fan interpretation, that Materialki are often neuro-divegent, so they are tend to be kept away from battle for their own sake.

Alina wasn't involved in practical running of Second Army before. Just because she doesn't know about something, it's not a totally fresh idea.

I'd be afraid of a girl, who almost murdered a bunch of people for asking questions, too.

At this point, I'm gonna run with the idea that all the older Grisha are torn between face-palming and silently laughing their assess off (so Alina doesn't overhear and her clique doesn't resort to violence).

“But what do they do in there?” I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer. “Only the Corporalki know. But there are rumors that they’ve been working with the Fabrikators on new … experiments.”

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 8

... and that says nothing about the field, or the little groups in noble houses. People tend to stick together with their own, when in strange enviroment. I'm sure such bonds dissolve immediately after their return "home".

I've also delved a little into the sitting order here.

A few lines earlier, Alina noted Materialki didn't show up to complain. Who is so horrified then?! Not them, for sure.

Ironically, this fits into Fabricator-brain theory linked above AND the most logical explanation- Materialki have basic self-defense training, but only those, who are able to, continue. Alina isn't particularly friendly with any of them, so how would she know no one had EVER bothered to teach them? Alright, there are none in her class, but as far as we know, it consists of a Squaller, an Inferni and a Heartrender. Not the most saying sample.

Having a third of all Grisha helpless doesn't fit into the picture of Aleksander's leadership:

“That’s what Botkin always says. ‘Not showy, just to make pain,’” I said, imitating the mercenary’s heavy accent. “Smart guy.” “The Darkling doesn’t think Grisha should rely on their powers for defense.”

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 17

You don't have to become another Bruce Lee, you only need a chance, when they drag you out of bed in the middle of the night.

What tradition?

This is rather well-written group of angry, disorganized people. It might start with a reasonable goal, but soon everyone talks about something else than others, and the message gets lost in the noise.

Tradition doesn't equal "the way things are done". Neither of them is the same as "the need for structure and people knowing their places". The third one is a legitimate concern, although one could argue it's exactly what Alina's attempting.

This whole scene very much reads like:

The author is desperate to prove the Heroine isn't quite useless- she has good ideas! Look! *whacks a hundreds of years old stategist and survivor par excellence with stupid stick*

[gl1tt3r-gutz-and-r0b0tz-sl]

MegaCee would probably be where Arcee is the super innocent bean to help turn the murderous terrorist of a Decepticon into a more neutral character in terms of alignment. In my AU, Arcee is a gladiator forced to fight by being drugged with dark Energon while Megatron is a seasoned fighter who climbed the ranks high enough to spectate the fights. TLDR: Gladiators becoming besties and then one becomes an Autobot.

StarCee would be probably in the same universe, or if Starscream got his shit kicked in a little too hard by Megatron and was left for dead. Arcee finds him, fixes him, and keeps him with the Autobots. TLDR: She fixes his mommy issues after they get into bitch fights.

Both art works are mine. I had to delete my old account, so I'll try to re-upload stuff. BTW, this is for a fanfic I'm writing. I'll probably post it when it's done.

I'm high off of two days of sleep deprivation. IDK WHAT I'M SAYING ANYMORE LMFAO

EDIT: So, I was thinking a little bit more about MegaCee and remembered the rest of the lore kinda, I'll explain more based on the results of the pole, but essentially, in my universe, the Quintessons took Arcee while she was young, I'm talking like- five, and then experimented on her, destroying her body, ripping apart every organ, Gorey shit, etc, then hyking her ass up on dark Energon injected into her to make her viscous and kill all her cellmates. Then they entered her into an illegal gladiator ring that was like a gambling thing, bets and whatnot, then the whole Megatron thing I stated before, he was abandoned and trained by the bots responsible for the ring, meeting Orion Pax/ Optimus during it, then their falling out, and Megatron rose higher in the ranks. Arcee climbed the ladder of ranks in the ring due to her brutal and forced way of combat. Megatron almost formed an infatuation with her brutality and when it came time for them to fight one another, he gave her an opportunity. To join his cause. She accepted, they both killed practically everyone, and she became a spy for him to report back with Intel Sound wave could not. Because of the blue optics she has and her overall cuteness, she appears harmless and no one has suspected a thing. She no longer is hooked on the dark Energon, but kills out of loyalty for the most part. She does weep alone after every Decepticon life she had to take during the battles in order to not look suspicious.

Then for StarCee, to make it fair with the other ship, would be where Arcee is the same with this universe, but grows closer to Starscream, despite his jealousy of Megatron's attention being on her. Starscream, like in one of the comics, was abandoned by his mother figure, but in my universe Thundercracker and Skywarp are canonically his brothers, and he was responsible for himself and them. Due to him having to be an adult at such a young age, it could explain why he's more childish and bratty when older. This will probably end in both Arcee fully defecting to the Autobots and Starscream to join her, causing drama and shit to blow up.

Arcee will most likely be the therapy mom in both of these lol. DAMN. THIS WAS LONG AND IM SORRY. IM TIRED YALL

[starlettescarlet]

no, Matty's not TTPD's muse - and neither is Joe

okay so in my previous post i said that i believe that taylor has a secret muse (or muses) she's been writing about and in this masterpost i'll further explain why.

alright so as many of you may have noticed, there are a few main themes in most of taylor's work: forbidden romances, being in love with your best friend - or someone so controversial that the world wouldn't accept, your parents wouldn't accept, you and your love being against the world, religious guilt - you know the stuff. i've always wondered why? because Taylor Swift the gorgeous gorgeous billionaire who's always been dating famous single men who's around her age (we're leaving Jack and John out here) - like why would her relationships would be so forbidden and unheard of and the world just turn against her if they knew? the obvious theory is, yeah because she's gay or at least bisexual. i think everyone has heard enough of this theory (and i think this is the theory that has the most evidence) but in this post i'm going to keep in neutral and try to explore it in a more broad way.

with the drop of TTPD, she put a face to this forbidden love - turns out it was Matty Healy all long. it was Matty whom she secretly dreamt about and it was Matty whom would make her fall from grace just to touch his face etcetera. i mean yeah, it could be - but honestly i feel like this doesn't hold enough evidence considering she had been writing about the same person before they even met (2014). that's why I think Matty is a red-herring (a clue or piece of information that is, or is intended to be, misleading or distracting). it holds even more evidence when she is the one who's been telling us that she lies and withholds informations from us if you've ever listened to her carefully. anyways i'm not good at summarising stuff, so i'll just share the examples (the files, if you will) and it's up to you to decide.

so Taylor wrote about forbidden love both in Fearless (Love Story) and Speak Now (Ours), but we won't get into much detail here considering she was still a kid so yep it makes sense her parents wouldn't let her date who she wants lmao.

file I. Red

"Put your lips close to mine As long as they don't touch"

i think the entirety of Treacherous is pretty self-explanatory. this was like 2-3 years before she met Matty.

file ii. 1989

"And you took a Polaroid of us Then discovered (Then discovered) The rest of the world was black and white But we were in screaming color"

the entirety of Out of the Woods explores the same old theme of your love being doomed from the beginning and it's you and your love against the world. this is supposed to about Harry Styles because of the bridge (Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?) (which I believe is an other red-herring) but I honestly do not understand why dating Harry Styles would feel like that lmao. "Baby, like we stood a chance / Two paper airplanes flying" i mean i don't know.

"Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? Ooh, didn't it all seem new and exciting?"

"Too in love to think straight All alone, or so it seemed But there were strangers watching And whispers turned to talking And talking turned to screams, oh"

the same theme in Wonderland (which i believe sounds extremely queer, but like i said it's for you to decide)

"I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost"

"Truth is, I can't pretend it's Platonic, it's just ended, so"

"One night, he wakes, strange look on his face Pauses, then says, "You're my best friend" And you knew what it was, he is in love"

themes of being in love with your best friend. i think it's self-explanatory.

"I had the fantasy that maybe our mismatched star signs Would surprise the whole school"

"When you told me we'd get back together"

"You don't knock anymore, and my whole life's ruined"

another theme is high school lovers. which is interesting because none of Taylor's exes that we know about weren't in the same school with her, or neither were her childhood friends. this theme will make a huge comeback in later albums.

file iii. reputation

this album is FUCKED. okay,

"Something happened for the first time In the darkest little paradise Shaking, pacing, I just need you"

"For you I would cross the line I would waste my time I would lose my mind They say, "She's gone too far this time."

"Halo, hiding my obsession I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy"

reputation is mostly supposed to be about Joe Alwyn and again, i don't know what is it about Joe that would make her questions her faith like that.

"Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep"

?

"I, I loved you in secret First sight, yeah, we love without reason"

"Picture of your face in an invisible locket You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it I had a bad feeling"

"I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche?"

"I'd kiss you as the lights went out Swaying as the room burned down I'd hold you as the water rushes in"

again i really don't remember her and Joe ever being this secret and forbidden and the public wouldn't let them be together if they ever knew but, okay.

"Our secret moments in a crowded room They got no idea about me and you"

"All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation My hands are shaking from holding back from you"

"I don't want you like a best friend"

"Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try And if I get burned, at least we were electrified"

"Everyone thinks that they know us But they know nothing about—"

TAYLOR WHAT'S GOING ON. alright we're moving on

file iv. Lover

"I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (Oh) And I scream, "For whatever it's worth I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

again there's this romance that is so forbidden and not meant to happen but she can't help it etcetera. doesn't scream Joe Alwyn to me.

"We were crazy to think Crazy to think that this could work Remember how I said I'd die for you? We were stupid to jump In the ocean separating us Remember how I'd fly to you?"

"They all warned us about times like this They say the road gets hard and you get lost When you're led by blind faith, blind faith"

"But we might just get away with it Religion's in your lips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship We might just get away with it The altar is my hips Even if it's a false god"

"I know heaven's a thing I go there when you touch me, honey"

"Make confessions and we're begging for forgiveness"

again what's going on that would make her question her faith like that.

"School bell rings, walk me home"

"20 questions, we tell the truth You've been stressed out lately, yeah, me too Something gave you the nerve To touch my hand"

"Church bells ring, carry me home Rice on the ground looks like snow Call my bluff, call you "Babe" Have my back, yeah, every day Feels like home, stay in bed The whole weekend"

again being in love with your best friend and they get married at the end. honestly i just believe this is gay.

file v. Folklore

"I persist and resist the temptation to ask you If one thing had been different Would everything be different today?"

"In my defense, I have none For digging up the grave another time"

the entirety of The One is just about still thinking about your ex love. this theme will make a huge comeback in TTPD.

"I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy"

again she's reminiscing about her ex love. keep the Peter & Wendy theme in the back of your mind.

"You know I didn't want to Have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels That I gave you As you bury me"

another theme is ghosts, death and burials. also keep this one in mind.

"I still got love for you Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long"

another childhood love song. it could be interpreted as platonic, but it sounds romantic to me. idk.

"Back when we were still changing for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all"

"Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose"

she's still reminiscing about "The One" but here it also overlaps with the high school love muse. this is going to make more sense in Evermore.

"And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings And longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies and it dies and it dies"

i mean i don't think an explanation for Illicit Affairs is needed. here comes a new theme, the one whom she's having a forbidden affair turns out to be married.

"You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else"

"You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else"

kinda screams Out of the Woods to me.

"My twisted knife My sleepless night My winless fight This has frozen my ground"

"You know I left a part of me back in New York You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for"

"You knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score?"

again this is supposed to be about Joe (the references to "blue", him being a pisces and having mental issues) but it really doesn't sound like it - i mean not in the narrative we know about.

"Take me to the Lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong and, my beloved, neither do you"

"While I bathe in cliffside pools With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief"

again the feeling of being misunderstood by the whole public and she defines Joe as her "calamitous" (catastrophic) love. hmm.

file vi. evermore

"Every bait-and-switch was a work of art"

bait-and-switch in literature is explained as: "This occurs when the author guides and encourages readers to invest their attention in some suspenseful situation but then is substitute for a payoff that has little to do with what occurred before."

"So we could call it even You could call me "babe" for the weekend 'Tis the damn season, write this down I'm staying at my parents' house And the road not taken looks real good now And it always leads to you and my hometown"

"I parked my car Right between the Methodist and the school that used to be ours"

"So I'll go back to LA And the so-called friends who'll write books about me if I ever make it And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm faking"

again the high school love.

"There'll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you"

reminiscing The One again.

"Hey Dorothea Do you ever stop and think about me? When we were younger Down in the park Honey, making a lark of the misery"

this is the childhood friend muse we've seen before in It's Nice to Have a Friend and Seven (even in Mary's Song).

"And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island wondering where did my baby go? The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go"

"Will you forgive my soul When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care? 'Cause we were like the mall before the Internet It was the one place to be The mischief, the gift wrapped suburban dreams"

this kind of sounds to me like the muse in 'tis the Damn Season. it is clear that this was someone from her teenage years, could be the high school love. also a reference to Suburban Legends.

"Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another"

the married muse.

"And the old widow goes to the stone every day But I don't, I just sit here and wait Grieving for the living"

"I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed"

the same cemetery and being haunted theme.

"It's been a long time And seeing the shape of your name Still spells out pain"

"I know I'm just a Wrinkle in your new life Staying "friends" Would iron it out so nice"

she's still reminiscing about her ex love and also a reference to being friends.

"Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt"

right where you left me is like the song that has all the theories combined lmao. there's not getting over The One, there's her love getting married to someone else (Glass shattere on the white cloth / I'm sure that you got a wife out there / Kids and Christmas but I'm unaware cause I'm right where you left me), there's being haunted, there's queerness (Hairpin drop) - there's literally everything.

file vii. Midnights

"Laughing with my feet in your lap Like you were my closest friend"

the best friend theme and honestly i think this is just gay.

"'Cause I don't remember who I was before you Painted all my nights A color I have searched for since"

feels like a direct reference to Out of the Woods and, illicit affairs maybe?

"Oh, my, love is a lie Shit my friends say to get me by It hits different It hits different this time"

another breakup song that was written when she was with Joe.

"I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost"

the Kens will make a comeback in TTPD.

"I find the artifacts, cried over a hat Cursed the space that I needed I trace the evidence, make it make some sense"

"artifacts" and "evidence" will also make a come back later.

"Bet I could still melt your world Argumentative, antithetical dream girl"

honestly i think this is just gay.

"Is it okay? Is it you? Or have they come to take me away? To take me away"

another reference to being locked up in an asylum lmao.

"We can plant a memory garden Say a solemn prayer Place a poppy in my hair"

another reference to graveyards and also battles, which comes back in You're Losing Me.

"Privacy sign on the door And on my page and on the whole world Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours"

keeping your love hidden which she didn't lmao

"I wanna transport you To somewhere the culture's clever Confess my truth In swooping, sloping, cursive letters"

she needs to take her love to somewhere the culture's clever so they could be... understood? i mean i wonder why... why would she need to confess her truth about Joe

"High infidelity Put on your records and regret me"

"Do you really want to know where I was April 29th? Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?"

she's just cheating

"I'd pay, if you'd just know me"

another reference to taylor feeling like she's not being understood

"We were supposed to be just friends You don't live in my part of town but maybe I'll see you out some weekend"

friends alert

"Dear reader, if it feels like a trap You're already in one"

"Dear reader, burn all the files Desert all your past lives And if you don't recognize yourself That means you did it right"

"Never take advice from someone who's falling apart"

"Dear reader, you don't have to answer Just 'cause they asked you"

"Dear reader, the greatest of luxuries is your secrets"

i think Dear Reader is the song that made the making of TTPD possible because this is like the first song she directly confesses that her life is not what it seems and she keeps things hidden

"I prefer hiding in plain sight"

"Spilling out to you for free But darling, darling, please You wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking If you knew where I was walking To a house, not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there"

she's basically saying YOU WOULDN'T EVEN BELIEVE ME IF I TOLD YOU THE TRUTH. it cannot get more obvious.

"You should find another guiding light, guiding light But I shine so bright"

she knows that despite her efforts to tell us about her life and how it's very different from the narrative she tells us the public won't believe it cause she shines so bright

file viii. THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

"I was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me I was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic"

she shockingly confesses to not actually being what she seemed to be - she's depressed and she's an alcoholic and the reference to being locked up in the psych ward (Hits Difference) (also Fortnight mv)

"You're in self-sabotage mode, throwing spikes down on the road"

"But you awaken with dread, pounding nails in your head"

kind of reminds me of the muse of Peace (if your cascade ocean blue waves come) and Hoax

"He was my best friend Down at the sandlot I felt more when we played pretend Than with all the Kens"

the best friend theme and the Kens?

"Did you take all my old clothes? Just to leave me here naked and alone In a field in my same old town"

"Down bad like I lost my twin"

honestly it sounds like she's singing about a woman here. (Karlie)

"I'll build you a fort on some planet Where they can all understand it"

the reference to Paris and all the other songs where she feels like her love cannot be understood

"I just learned these people only raise you to cage you Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best Clutching their pearls, sighing, "What a mess" I just learned these people try and save you 'Cause they hate you"

i won't write the whole lyrics but the entirety of But Daddy I Love him is about forbidden love (like Love Story), not being understood, the whole world judging your love etc.

"Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to"

"Gray and blue and fights and tunnels Handcuffed to the spell I was under For just one hour of sunshine"

"My friends tried but I wouldn't hear it Watched me daily disappearing For just one glimpse of his smile"

i feel like Frest Out the Slammer is a direct reference to illicit affairs muse (Make sure nobody sees you leave / Hood over your head keeps your eyes down / Tell them you're out for a run / You'll be flushed when you return)

"At the park where we used to sit on children's swings Wearing imaginary rings"

again it sounds like the muse is somebody whom she's known since she was way younger

"Without ever touching his skin How can I be guilty as sin?"

yeah she wants to cheat so bad lmao. i think this is pre-illicit affairs.

"I keep these longings locked In lowercase, inside a vault Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts Only your actions talk"

again religious guilt and keeping your desires hidden.

"What if I roll the stone away? They're gonna crucify me anyway What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly I choose you and me religiously"

wow. once again she's haunted.

"They shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I Tell 'em he's my man But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger I can fix him, no really I can"

you know what i honestly believe this is the same muse from cowboy like me lmao. another dangerous forbidden love.

"Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames If we know the steps anyway? We embroidered the memories of the time I was away Stitching, "We were just kids, babe" I said, "I don't mind, it takes time""

here comes the muse from the 1, the old flame. again the childhood / high school lovers trope.

"Still alive, killing time at the cemetery Never quite buried"

cemeteries again?

"It was unnecessary, should've let it stay buried"

i think this is after-the 1. (If one thing had been different / Would everything be different today?) i think they tried again but it didn't work.

"I can read your mind "She's having the time of her life" There in her glittering prime The lights refract sequin stars Off her silhouette every night I can show you lies"

i don't think i need to explain I Can Do it With a Broken Heart.

"And I don't even want you back, I just want to know If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal"

there's something about The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived that makes me think about it's related to August. i feel like it was written from August' POV.

"'Cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden"

self-explanatory, huh?

"Now I want to sell my house and set fire to all my clothes And hire a priest to come and exorcise my demons"

again she's haunted but i think The Black Dog is honestly about Joe.

"I'm the albatross I swept in at the rescue The devil that you know Looks now more like an angel"

again more religious imagery that i'm too tired to explain right now lmao but you know the drill

"You turned me into an idea of sorts"

she's talking about the public's perception of her

"Say it once again with feeling How the death rattle breathing Silenced as the soul was leaving The deflation of our dreaming Leaving me bereft and reeling My beloved ghost and me Sitting in a tree D-Y-I-N-G"

?

"And so I changed your name and any real defining clues And one day Your kid comes home singing A song that only us two is gonna know is about you"

this is where the real deal comes in. in thanK you aIMee, it sounds like a direct reference to Kim Kardashian but she just throws this line here which makes you think... hmm. if she changed her name and any real defining clues how do we know it's about Kim? so maybe it isn't. i mean that's what she said anyways.

"I tried searching faces on streets What are the chances you'd be Downtown, downtown, downtown Does it feel alright to not know me? I'm addicted to the "if only"

feels like a reference to The One.

"I got cursed like Eve got bitten Oh, was it punishment?"

"Please I've been on my knees Change the prophecy Don't want money Just someone who wants my company Let it once be me"

"A greater woman stays cool But I howl like a wolf at the moon"

"A greater woman has faith But even statues crumble if they're made to wait I'm so afraid I sealed my fate No sign of soulmates"

another song where she feels doomed and cursed. honestly i think this is the saddest song from TTPD.

"You can mark my words that I said it first In a mourning warning no one heard

No one heard Not a single word was heard"

in Cassandra she once again sings about not being heard.

"Forgive me, Peter My lost fearless leader In closets like cedar Preserved from when we were just kids"

"You said you were gonna grow up Then you were gonna come find me"

in Peter she once again sings about the old flame, the 1, the childhood love. we're supposed to believe the muse in question is Matty. they were both 25 when they met so it's up to you to decide if this is the childhood love. idk.

"Started with a kiss "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" But it always ends up with a town car speeding Out the drive one evening Ended with the slam of a door Then he'll call her a whore"

illicit affairs alert

so, to sum it up -

chapter "hiding in plain sight"

i. dear reader, ii. thank you aimee, iii. fortnight, iv. i can do it with a broken heart

chapter "forbidden love"

i. love story, ii. ours, iii. treacherous, iv. illicit affairs, v. cowboy like me, vi. but daddy i love him, vii. guilty as sin

chapter "i loved you in secret"

i. king of my heart, ii. dress, iii. don't blame me, iv. paris, v. glitch

chapter "the 1"

i. the 1, ii. 'tis the damn season, iii. coney island, iv. suburban legends, v. loml, so many more i'm so tired at the moment lmao let me wrap it up

chapter "passed down like folk songs"

this is the childhood best friend chapter btw

i. seven, ii. dorothea, iii. mary's song, iv. it's nice to have a friend

chapter "suburban legends"

this is the high school love chapter which could also overlap with the 1 chapter

i. 'tis the damn season, ii. coney island, iii. loml

chapter "best friend" (which could also overlap the childhood best friend and high school love chapter, i know it's so complicated)

i. maroon, ii. you are in love, iii. dress, iv. mary's song, v. it's nice to have a friend

alright so i've probably left some songs out cause i'm on my period and my mind is so foggy, like i said i'm so tired so please let me know there's anything missing.

to sum it up in a shorter way,

muse i. the best friend (which can both be the childhood best friend or the high school lovers, the one from her hometown, also can be the 1)

muse ii. illicit affairs, the one that got married, it can also overlap the prior muse idk

muse iii. this one is clearly a woman in my opinion.

IN CONCLUSION

in conclusion, there seems to be at least one hidden muse throughout taylor's discography. i feel like there's at least three. by the way - i couldn't care less whom taylor writes about. i'm just interested in the story she has to tell. and lately it's been feeling like she has been begging for us to understand her. i think she uses a lot of red herrings to hide the true muses of her songs. when you carefully listen to her whole discography there are a few stories that instantly connect to each other that is out of the narrative taylor explicitly chose to tell us about. and this is not to say that she never had a relationship with Harry or Joe or whatever - it's just that I believe there is someone else (or others) that we don't yet know about. i think the one she's known from her hometown is the most obvious one.

anyways, i'm curious to hear about your thoughts in this.

[murdockmeta]

hi, im new here (not to dd just to the tumblr sphere— why does everyone seem to hate zdarsky/checchetto? i really enjoyed the first part of zdarkys run and i adore checchetto’s art + design, so idk what i missed that makes everyone who comicsposts dislike it so much??

hm. this isn't the easiest question to answer. there's a LOT of different reasons as to why people disliked that run.

tbh I'll admit the first 20 or so issues of v6 are kind of okay. not impossible to read. it goes downhill fast after that, tho. very very downhill.

here's this post by @/xycuro-illuminati that does a good job of explaining why so many people disliked the run. here's my post on the ableism in zdarsky's writing. trust me you aren't the first person who's asked this question before

i'll give you a more general answer of my own opinion, tho

zdarsky's writing misses what most consider to be crucial points of Matt and Elektra's characters. with this, he entirely obliterates their characterization and that really pissed a lot of comics fans off.

i would consider volume 6 to be the beginning of the MCU-ification of dd. it is clear that at that point, some higher-ups were pushing for daredevil comics to become more like the show. the show was a MASSIVE hit and they wanted to cash in on that. so, they had the writers start shifting the comics and the characterization around to fit the show better.

this is where the problem lies. it is insulting, honestly, to ignore the past 50 plus years of writing for matt's character to shift it into something that will be more palatable to live actions fans just so marvel can get a good payday.

the most glaringly noticeable part of this is - the catholicism. the live action show makes a big deal out of matt being catholic when this was never really the case in the comics. while matt being religious and catholic are present in matt's background in the comics, it's not even close to being a big part of the character.

one of the main things that makes matt so compelling as a character is his morality, his integrity. he upholds his moral code relentlessly because he believes it is the right thing to do. he believes everyone deserves a second chance no matter what. in zdarsky's run and in the show, matt's reason for upholding his moral code is tied to his religious beliefs.

here's a good post on the origins of catholicism being related to matt's character and how it differs from the show and why it is such an injustice to tie matt's morality to his religion.

it's really really hard to articulate every single thing that's wrong with zdarsky's run while also giving you a thorough explanation.

i could tell you about how zdarsky's original plot was focused around matt's guilt when he accidentally kills someone but... matt's killed people before. he killed someone in his very first issue. ever. he was chasing after the man who was responsible for his father's murder and scared him so badly the man had a heart attack and died.

all of zdarsky's plots and subplots are all things that have been done over and over, he just writes it worse.

i could tell you about how shitty checchetto's art is. he can't draw women. or fat people (foggy fans deserve reparations). toward the end of the run he gets ESPECIALLY sloppy. he whitewashed kirsten and sam.

i could tell you about how zdarsky wrecked elektra's character. he completely ignored her origins and the character development she's had over the course of decades of writing just to slap some random retconned backstory onto her.

theres so. many. things.

i got into the comics through the show. when I started reading the comics I honestly perceived comics matt and show matt as two entirely different characters because they just felt so incredibly separate from one another. it is not that there are zero similarities, but their reasons for WHY they are the way that they are diverge wildly from each other

i dont know how else to put it except to say this. when I read zdarsky's run, I do not feel like I'm reading about Matt Murdock. it doesn't feel like matt, it doesn't feel like daredevil. it feels like an entirely new character that I do not know.

to fully explain to you why i feel that way would take a damn book. i realize that my answer isn't at all comprehensive and some parts are probably confusing but it is impossible to pick a start and end point. that's just not matt. that's it.

[brittlebutch]

finally found a place to read With the Light online and i'm thrilled; if you haven't read this manga i do Legitimately recommend it

[buttercupart]

why doesn't chara & asriel live with toriel at all?

everyone's gone on without you

[lhrry]

x

[thethingything]

🍬: would having a dentist almost dislocate your jaw count as a traumatic experience? as in like as he's pushing on the tooth to try and shape the filling he keeps pushing so hard you feel your jaw partly shift out of the socket repeatedly like it does when it's about to dislocate but it just doesn't quite fully pop out of place?

every other alter that's present: ...in what world is that not considered traumatic

[amber-rambles]

i sent a long message explaining to a couple friends why I've been so absent online and i guess i overexplained bc i had already mentioned it before but my one friend had a really intense reaction to it and now i feel so annoying and embarrassed and hurt ugh

[knaveofmogadore]

Hang..