#you are all the BEST for following me; for caring what I say; and for making me smile THIS MUCH from day to day 💜💜

[swagpeytato]

Yandere!Neglectful Batfam x Batmom!Reader. PART 1

My marriage was one of convenience, and I had no choice in the matter. It had been engraved into me since I was just four years old that I would be marrying Bruce Wayne, heir to Wayne fortune. I had never liked him much, but I lived knowing my parents would be happy with me, and I would be financially stable for the rest of my natural life.

Since I was married to such a big public figure, I became one as well. My whole life was publicized for the world to see. The media was under the impression that this was a marriage of love. First mistake. They thought we were the perfect couple, with no marital problems at all. Second mistake. They thought we were happy. The biggest mistake of all.

I was miserable.

We had no relationship outside of the media. We were two strangers living in the same house. When we first married, I noticed that he would disappear every single night, without fail. When he brought home Dick I was suspicious. It wasn’t until a year after he brought Jason home, that I found out what was going on.

“Hey y/n, can you ask Bruce if I can go out as Robin. If you ask, he might say yes.”

We had a huge fight that night. There was screaming, crying, and things thrown. I should have left then, but I couldn’t leave the two boys I had come to love, without a mother figure in the house. Even if they didn’t love me back. After that fight, I never saw much of the three crime-fighting vigilantes in the house, and when I did, they would brush past me hastily, sometimes muttering a greeting, other times, ignoring me completely. The only person I spoke to was Alfred, and even he wasn’t much help to cure my loneliness, considering how busy he was.

When Jason died, I was the last to know. I had to find out from social media. They all neglected to tell me, under the impression that someone else would. I’m not surprised that I wasn’t informed, but it hurt nonetheless. I cried, and screamed, and begged any god listening to bring my baby back. A piece of my heart broke that day. We hadn’t been close, as he followed Bruce’s lead of pretending I didn’t exist, but that hadn’t changed the fact that I had watched this young boy grow into a confident young man, and it broke my heart to know that he was gone.

Soon after, Tim came, and he was not interested in getting to know me at all. He wasn’t rude, but he wouldn’t give me the time of day, which was very infuriating, when I was trying to help him. I gave up after a while, tired of giving my all for people who gave me less than nothing in return.

After Tim, it was Damian. I had never even thought that Bruce would stoop as low as cheating on me. I knew he didn’t care about me much, but to embarrass and humiliate me the way that he did was enough. I was completely emotionally checked out of the relationship by then. I didn’t hold it against Damian though, as he was just an innocent child, who had no say in his parentage. This was until he threatened me with a sword. I knew briefly how he was raised, but I was at a loss for words. He made a huge slice down my torso. Not deep enough to kill me thankfully but deep enough to leave a scar for life. Alfred took care of me. I was in pain for 2 months after the incident, and I never recovered emotionally. Not only had my husband cheated on me, but his affair child had attempted to end my life. His words still rang through my ears months later.

“You are just a gold-digging harlot. You have no place in the noble Wayne family. You are nothing.”

These words stuck with me everyday. I became depressed, my mood deteriorating with every passing day in the manor.

I decided to get a divorce. I knew Bruce would never sign off on it willingly, so I had to sneak it into Bruce’s office. While walking out, I was met with Alfred looking back at me, a small smile adorning his face.

“I’m glad you will be getting away from here. It is within your best interests to get as far as you can from here once he signs off. I will miss you y/n.”

The next day, a knock on my bedroom door startled me. Alfred stepped in with a paper gripped in between his fingers. My smile widened for the first time in months. I was overjoyed.

The next week was spent slowly moving my stuff out. I had to be as inconspicuous as possible, as I live in a house with the best detective in the world. That Wednesday, I was finally able to leave. I had a set apartment to go to, all the way in Jump City. I knew Dick had moved there, but I don’t believe we had even spoken enough in recent years for him to even recognize me on the street.

While leaving, I left the finalized divorce papers, and my perfectly polished wedding ring on the bed. Walking from my room to the front door was a long, but freeing walk. I had lived in an uninhabited side of the manor, pushed away from the rest of the family. I hung the manor keys on the rack for what should be the last time, as I stepped quickly, and quietly out the front door, unaware of the eyes watching me. Unaware of the eyes that would be the reason for my undoing.

[dollarbils]

my stalker | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your stalker isn’t too happy about the police report you’d just filed.

warnings. stalker billie, harsh words, physical struggle

the drive back from the police station was nerve racking. every turn you took you felt like someone was watching you. like she was watching you. your paranoia had overtaken your life as you watched every step you took, constantly checking your surroundings and double locking the door. you were scared, and she loved it.

the buzz of your phone interrupted your hasty movements to get out of your car. you waited until you had gotten inside, double locking the door of course, before answering.

“hello?” you didn’t recognise the number but you’d assumed it was the guy you met last night at a party. you’d left him your number since he was hitting on you.

“well that wasn’t very nice of you, was it?” her voice was deep, somewhat angry. and it took everything in you not to scream and panic.

“stay the fuck away from me you psycho!” you yelled through the phone, not hanging up though, wanting to hear her response.

“it’s in your best interest to be kinder to me, baby. i’m not here to hurt you.” here. here. here?

“i’m going to call the police if i see you in my garden again.” you peeked out of the window, scanning the bushes.

“oh please, give me more credit.” this time, the voice didn’t come from your phone, it came from behind you and you spun around in a quick movement to dodge her arm that was reaching for you. however, you weren’t quick enough, as her other arm pulled you back towards her. she pushed you against the wall, her hands pinning you in place and her strength defeating you.

“what on earth do you want from me?” you held her eye contact, masking your ever growing fear. she seemed surprised. you couldn’t make out her features completely due to the darkness. her eyes however, were captivating all the same.

“i want you to stop reporting me to the police, it’s annoying.” she pressed into you, pinning your face in place with her hypnotising eyes.

“maybe don’t stalk me.” you suggested and she rolled her eyes.

“you’re scared of me. i can tell.”

“well what did you expect exactly? a hug and a kiss?” it seemed to be that pissing her off more was the strategy you were going with.

“don’t be afraid of me. i’m what you need.” she whispered on your cheek. “i can hear your heart beating. calm down baby.” you squirmed in her arms, trying to fight her grip but she only pushed you back harder. however soft her words were, her actions never matched. her face was still impossibly close to yours as she waited for a response.

“nothing to say?” she commented, teasing you for your sudden silence.

“fuck you.” you moved quickly, catching her by surprise and getting past her grip to reach for your phone. she was quicker however, grabbing it and shoving it in her back pocket.

“what the fuck.. stalker.” you contemplated on what you should call her. she simply chuckled at what you came up with.

“it’s billie.” she clarified her name.

“i don’t care, give me my phone.” she kept her distance, no longer making a move to reach for you.

“come and get it.” she challenged. “don’t be scared.” she added when you made no move to get your phone back.

“just tell me what you want and give me my phone back.” you moved away from her slowly but she just followed, keeping the exact same distance between you no matter how far back you traveled.

“i think you know what i want. and im not about to give you your phone back so that you can wait for your boy toy to text you.” her grin revealed the glistening metal on her teeth, even in the dark.

“how..?” you were at loss for words. a sick feeling rising to your stomach. no matter where you went she’d always know, she’d always be there too.

“hm?” she mocked you, waiting for you to continue.

“just leave me alone.” you pleaded her but she just chuckled.

“but you’re so fun to play with.” her smile was bright but her eyes were dark. she moved closer to you as you backed away but like always, she was much quicker.

“you’re sick.” you shook your head as her hands came up to your face. you didn’t bother stopping the action.

“i feel quite good.” her lips came down to yours, kissing the side of them, but missing them by a millimetre.

“what are you doing?” her hands caressed your neck as she moved her face to look at you.

“i know we’re meant to be.” her words were soft, contrasting most of what had transpired. you felt her hand on your ass for a second longer than it should’ve been. but when she closed the door behind her and you reached inside of your pocket, you found your phone, as if it had been untouched.

as she walked away from your house calmly, a smile was plastered on her face. she knew you’d be thinking about her for the rest of the week. and that’s all she wanted. for now.

[ssailormoonn]

❛ HIS SUBMISSIVE ❜

Nakahara Chuuya X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.7k + | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: x fem reader, piv, overstimulation, no protection, prone bone, cumming inside, be safe pls wrap bf u tap, use of plugs, teasing, pet names -> good girl, love, my good girl and prolly more, chuu being chuu + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Hi, I was the one who sent the Chuuya or Obanai x Submissive reader and what I meant by that was that the reader would always do what they said and go along with them in a good way for like... s*x and stuff. Just always doing what wanted... sorry if that doesn't make sense!! - ANON

m.list | bsd m.list | port mafia m.list

Yokohama. It isn't a place new to you, it was the place where your man worked! But, not being an ability user and being quite timid and sweet, this wasn't the best place for a girl like you to be lingering around. You walked beside Chuuya, your steps falling into perfect sync with his despite his fast walking pace, you were trying your hardest to keep up.

Chuuya's hand rested possessively on your lower back, guiding you through the bustling streets, only so his pretty darling wouldn't get unfortunately lost in the crowd, he needs you with him despite him not saying it most of the time. You always followed him around anyway, listening to his every request. 

You and Chuuya had been on a date before he got an emergency call from his boss, telling him that there was a threat that only he could eliminate. 

Lies, of course. Mori just found pleasure in ruining his downtime with you. 

There was no doubt about it that Chuuya is confident, along with his quick thinking, which made you feel like you were the safest woman in the world. You doubt be as free as you wanted because you had a man there to do all the work for you, and he wouldn't want it any other way. 

"Stick close to me," Chuuya said in quite a harsh tone that almost made you flinch but you pushed it down, knowing that it was only because he was pissed off with Mori. 

However, his words and tone somehow reassured you as you knew that he loved and cared about you, especially knowing that he loves spending time with you. But he was also reassuring you, he knew that you would fall into danger if you wandered too far away from him. You had a special role tonight, you were helping him with a mission to which you agreed to way too quickly. 

You can't say no to him.

There was no need for any words to express how compliant you are, your actions spoke got themselves.

The two of you entered a dimly lit warehouse. Chuuya's gaze swept across the space, analysing every detail, making sure that there was nothing that could hurt you. You followed his every move, and your trust in him was absolute. 

Chuuya's voice cut through the silence. "We're dealing with a group that's trying to disrupt our operation. They're likely armed and dangerous. We need to be ready for anything."

You took a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag that held a few essentials—an assortment of gadgets and tools you both might need, but mostly lipgloss, that was what filled ninety per cent of your bag, lipgloss. 

He turned to you, his expression serious but he softened when he saw the fear in your eyes. "I want you to stay behind me and keep an eye on our six. If anything goes wrong, I need you to trust me and follow my lead. Can you do that?"

"Okay," you replied, your voice steady despite the fear coursing through your veins. 

You stepped back slightly, positioning yourself as instructed. The trust between you and Chuuya was unspoken but deeply ingrained. You were his shadow, his support, and in return, he was your anchor, providing you with the safety and confidence you needed.

Suddenly, a burst of gunfire erupted from the other side of the warehouse. Chuuya's instincts kicked in immediately, and he pulled you behind a stack of crates for cover. You pressed yourself close to him, the heat of his body against yours providing a comforting warmth.

"We need to move," Chuuya said, his voice low and urgent. "Follow my lead and stay down."

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a shared understanding. As he moved forward, you trailed behind him, your senses heightened and every nerve on edge. Chuuya's movements were fluid and precise as he engaged with the enemy. You moved with him, your every action synchronized with his, providing support where needed and staying vigilant.

Chuuya turned to you, his breathing heavy. He placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch reassuring. "Good job. You stayed focused and followed through perfectly."

You smiled up at him relief in your eyes. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."

He gave a small, approving nod. "That's what I'm here for. But it's nice to know you trust me enough to follow my lead. It makes everything a lot easier."

Chuuya pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. The danger had passed, and now it was just the two of you, standing together amongst the... dead people on the floor, how romantic.

"You're incredible, you know that?" Chuuya said, his voice softer now, filled with genuine warmth. "I don't say it enough, but I appreciate everything you do."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned into him. "I'm just glad I can be here with you, doing what I can to help."

Chuuya's expression softened further. "And I'm glad to have you by my side. It means more than you know."

And that's how you ended up beneath Chuuya, like always, him praising every minuscule part of your body. Although... that didn't mean he wasn't so mean to you.

Your breath was ragged as Chuuya's throbbing cock is nudged so deeply in your spongey walls. His length getting squeezed by every ridge within your soaked cunt. A moan left both of your mouths as Chuuya's length nudged the deepest spot within you.

"Look how you take me in," Chuuya grunts. "Such a good little girl, my girl." 

You sigh in pleasure at the degradative praise, he knew that you loved to be worshipped in an abasement way, you savoured his words struck him so deeply. In a way he never wanted to call you anything else.

But he didn't move, he wanted to relish in on how you desired to cause friction, desired to move against his touch, but couldn't. Chuuya's cock, prodded so deep in your gummy walls that you whimpered in pleasure, but that didn't stop him from not moving. He was still snug inside.

Hot and heavy kisses trail down from your ear down to the dip of your neck to shoulder and a breathless sigh escaped your parted lips before Chuuya rolled his hips into yours. A moan slips out of your mouth, his thick length scraping all the sensitive parts of your warm insides.

Chuuya's knees spread your legs apart so that any advances from you ensured that they would be shut down, so that you remained situated below him, your pretty body that paled in comparison to his big frame. As he expected, you couldn't move from his trapping embrace.

His movements became faster, his cock thrusting into the depths of my needy hole as strained moans and whines left your throat. Chuuya was panting in your ear and an occasional deep groan slipped past his lips, the sounds which made your cunt flutter tightly around his length.

Chuuya was filling me up to the hilt, his throbbing pink tip hitting that soft, gummy spot in my cunt that caused me to scream out in fulfilment. "I know baby, I'm listening," He breathed, causing you to let out a moan and sigh, body shaking with pleasure. "Found it haven't I?" Chuuya smirked.

Your body tried to arch away from the pleasure, not being able to take the strong rolls of Chuuya's hips, but as you arched your back away, his thrusts only aimed deeper, harder into your G spot. 

"Y-yeah," you sobbed out, tears filling your lash line. "B-but... Too much, 'Chuu. Slow down, too much."

"Oh?" he smirked, his hips moving now at a faster pace, loving how your cunt squeezed his cock even though you wanted him to slow down, how contradicting he thought your words were, you were denying your body the release that you so desperately needed. "Looks like your pussy is saying something else," Chuuya added.

Repetitive moans left your mouth while he pounded into your tight heat. You suddenly had the instinctive urge to press yourself into his length, but you couldn't, his weight was too heavy for you to move against him, and you were utterly hopeless as his thrusts became faster.

"Please, I wanna come," you cry out mewling. "So big, you feel so big, Chuuya."

Your body trembled beneath him and the hold he had on your hands loosened. Your hips were getting held, then, the strength he possessed lifted you onto your knees before a bicep wrapped around your throat, lifting your head. It wasn't a tight grip but the power lifted your head from the futon while you shakily rested your weight on your elbows.

Your back arched heavily, finally being able to sink more into him. Chuuya hunched over you, pulling you closer to him and connected your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth, grunting into you while he swallowed your moans. "Good girl, taking me so deep," Chuuya groaned, pulling away from your mouth and pushing this arch into your back deeper.

"'Wanna come, please," you beg, wanting to feel the release, desperate as the tears stream down your flushed cheeks. "Want it so bad."

You clench around his length as he increases his pace, instantly accommodating to the speed but your moans escalate. "Such a good girl," He leaned down and mumbled in my ear chased with a deep moan that stirred my insides clenching around his length. "C'mon, how much you want it?" Chuuya rasps in your ear.

"Want it so bad!" you whimper, unable to comprehend any thoughts that swelled into your head. "Please, please, please."

"Yeah?" Chuuya replies groans interrupting his speech, but it made his stomach and balls tighten, wanting to fill up your cunt with his seed.

"Please, I wanna come," you moan.

"Go ahead," he growled and you spasmed around his length as your high washed over you, your legs shaking as his weight pressed down even more than it was. His thrusts didn't slow causing you to whimper in overstimulation, but Chuuya helped it, his hips continuing to rut into mine, helping me ride out my orgasm as he chased his own.

With a groan, his lips planted against mine once again as his hips slammed into mine, hard, his cum spilling inside me causing me to moan into his kiss. Chuuya slipped his softening length out, and pulled away from the kiss as you slumped to the bed, his eyes chained to the white splotches of silky come that spilled from your gaping cunt.

"Aren't ya' so cute," Chuuya teases, pushing his fingers into your cunt, causing you to lurch forward.

"Chuu!" you wimper out.

"Shhhh, my sweet," he coos before you felt something cold and big slid into your cunt. "Gonna make sure none of me slips out of you."

"What are you doing?" you whimpered out.

"Making sure you're all plugged up," Chuuya mumbles agasint the shell of your ear.

You huffed. "Didn't even ask me."

"You would've said yes either way, love. You can't say no to me."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | bsd m.list | port mafia m.list

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 9

Weeks pass, and their evening phone calls continue. The timing varies, but its a rare day that Kara doesn't hear from Lena. Each call feels like a gift, as Kara remains conscious of the constraints on Lena's time, and the energy expended on days she does her shows.

But on those rare evenings where her phone stays quiet, Kara can't help the concern that tickles at the back of her mind. She manages to refrain from issuing a check in, certain that it would be considered a nag, or at the very least an entitlement to Lena's time.

The morning following one such evening, the first text she receives comes in after she settles behind her desk, ready to tackle a mountain of paperwork. When she opens the chat window, she's confused to see an image of a glass-paned wall of an office building.

It's not until she spots the building number that she realizes that it's *her* building.

She all but sprints to the lobby, bursting through the front doors to come to a sudden stop to see a black suv and a casually dressed Lena Luthor leaning against it.

When Lena beams, warmth pools in Kara's chest. She surges back into motion, breathlessly throwing her arms around Lena to squeeze long and hard.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Lena says into her shoulder, seemingly content to remain in Kara's embrace as long as possible.

Kara laughs. "The best surprise. I've missed you."

When she pulls back, Lena all but bounces on her toes. "You down to play hookie with me?"

"Dodging another meeting?"

"Actually.... I miiiiight have cleared my schedule." From her puckish grin, Lena doesn't appear to feel all that guilty about it.

Kara's heart skips a beat. She can't remember the last time anyone has ever set aside time dedicated to her. It's been years since her last real committed relationship, and even then the time she spent with her partner had been perfunctory, a matter of course. It hadn't made her feel... special.

"Let me grab my purse."

---

They go to the movies. It's Lena's idea, but Kara is the one to choose the goofy comedy that has Lena in stitches before the end of the first act. And if the sound of Lena's giggling heats Kara's cheeks, who could blame her?

They continue to snack on their bucket of popcorn even as they leave the theater. Lena wears the same denim jacket over a zip up hoodie that she'd worn their first day in the park, and with her sunglass firmly in place, she almost looks like a normal person. No one seems to give them a second glance, for which Kara is deeply grateful for.

Selfishly, she wants to keep Lena for herself, for as long as possible.

"When's the last time you went on vacation?" Lena asks, apropro of nothing.

Kara blinks at the unexpected question. She takes time off every year, but she doubts her little staycations to relax and recharge are what Lena would consider a proper break.

"Define vacation," Kara hedges.

Lena laughs. "Time away, somewhere else. Maybe... with someone?"

Sensing the direction the conversation is headed, a thrill of adventure sparks in Kara's belly, even as she begins to talk her way out of it.

"Lena, I don't know..."

"I know, I know, but listen! I've got five days before my next show in Paris, and it's the longest stretch I'll have free for months, and... I want to spend those five days with you."

Kara stares at her. Lena rushes to fill the silence.

"We could go to Capri. Or the alps, if you want somewhere cooler? Or--"

"Yes," Kara interjects. Lena's rambling halts in surprise. Kara grins. "I don't care where we go."

Lena's answering smile puts the sun to shame.

---

Capri is gorgeous. Kara expects to them to be taken to another lavish hotel, but instead their driver heads to residential area, and when they stop, Kara finds herself at the gate of a sprawling villa.

"Wow."

Lena nudges her playfully. "Wait til you see the real view.

Kara follows Lena's lead. Carry-ons in hand, they make their way into the main area of the villa. When Lena places her bag on one of the long couches in the middle of the room, Kara does the same, then allows Lena to lead her by the hand to the verandah at the back.

The whitewashed terrace serves as the perfect frame for the vista that sprawls beyond the walled perimeter of the villa, all the way down to flat stretch of ocean reaching towards the horizon.

"Wow..." Kara breathes.

"I know, right?" Lena turns, sidling a little closer to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Kara's jaw. When her head rested on Kara's shoulder, Kara let her cheek rest atop it. "I'm glad you're here."

Kara sighs, surprisingly content. "Me too."

---

Though the villa's kitchen is fully stocked and equipped, Lena insists on going out for dinner. "I'm not about to stay in on a night like tonight," she says, and Kara offers little protest.

They choose the restaurant on sight alone, and the food is sumptuous and, once the sun goes down, decorated with a blanket of stars overhead. Lena looks stunning in a white shift dress, perfect for the weather and venue, and Kara's gaze roves in a certainly non-platonic way. She only feels a little bad about it when Lena catches her staring.

The other woman's gaze deepens as she reads Kara's appreciation in her expression, and a knowing smile curls her lips. When Lena's bare foot brushes Kara's shin beneath the table, Kara can't bring herself to pull away. She wants Lena, and she's rapidly running out of reasons to talk herself out of it.

Along the walk back to the villa, Kara points out as many constellations as she can recognize, only for Lena to laugh.

"There is no way I could possibly tell which stars you're pointing at," she says.

Rather than be deterred, Kara pulls them to stop. She positions herself behind Lena, her front pressing close against Lena's back. So close that she can feel the hitch of Lena's breath when Kara reaches one arm over her right shoulder, pointing at the brilliant anchor of the big dipper.

"There. You've got the bright one, which is Polaris. The north star. Follow it that way, and you can see the rest of Ursa Major."

Kara turns her chin to gaze down at Lena. The younger woman's skin glows in the moonlight, her hair nearly merging into the shadows. She looks ethereal against the moonlight off the sea, but in Kara's arms she's all to tangible.

"See it?"

"Yeah," Lena croaks. She tries again. "Yeah, I do." She shifts, reaching back to let one hand rest against Kara's hip. The touch is intimate though non-sexual-- a simple gesture to keep Kara exactly where she is. "Show me more?"

Kara does. She's able to point out most of the greeks-- Orion and Cassiopeia and Andromeda, among others. It's at least another hour before they get back to the villa, and the long walk leaves them melting into the couch the moment they sit.

Unable to keep from dozing off, even with the lights blazing, Kara wakes hours later to find Lena asleep on her shoulder. It doesn't even occur to her to move.

When next she wakes, however, Lena is nowhere to be found. Sunlight streams through the tall arched windows, illuminating the spacious room with a pale light that doesn't help this trip feel any less like a dream.

Stretching the kinks out of her back as she rises, Kara meanders to the kitchen, only to find it similarly empty. From there she explores the adjoining hallways, until the sound of hushed, harsh murmurs draws her towards one of the bedrooms.

Peeking through the open door, Kara spies Lena pacing, phone pressed tightly to her ear in agitation. Kara can't discern her words, but her tone is clear enough-- something is wrong.

Lena looks up when Kara gives the door a light push, and Kara is taken aback by the tears glittering in her eyes. Lena turns away slightly, muttering a swift "I have to go," before ending the call.

"I'm sorry," Lena grinds out, turning back towards Kara. "This-- this was a terrible idea, and I-- I shouldn't have pushed it--"

"Whoa, hey..." Kara interrupts gently. "What's wrong?"

Lena sniffs, before unlocking her phone to give to Kara. There, in all their telephoto glory, are a slew of photos-- of them. Here in Capri. One of them captures the moment Lena had kissed Kara's jaw the day before on the terrace, and others track their trek through the village and their dinner at the restaurant. The last one shows the two of them at the outlook, Lena pressed to Kara's front, with Kara's arm stretching towards the stars.

"I know--" Lena's voice cracks. "I know you didn't want this. That you didn't-- want to be seen with me."

Kara frowns. Papparazzi hasn't even been a thought in her mind, beyond one of their outings being interrupted by people hounding Lena. Her concern-- her *only* hesitation to committing towards something deeper-- has been the dread of losing Lena before having more than a taste of her.

"I swear, I didn't know they knew where we'd be," Lena continues. By now, quiet tears have spilled down her cheeks. "I didn't *know*--"

"Hey," Kara says sofly, cupping Lena's damp cheeks with both hands. "It's okay."

Lena shakes her head. "It's not," she croaks. "You didn't want this..."

"I want you."

The confession comes easier than Kara expects. It stills Lena to a mere tremble, her eyes taking on a hopeful glimmer through the tears.

"Anything else, I'll handle it."

Lena swallows, throat clicking. "*We'll* handle it?" she corrects, tentatively.

Offering a smile, Kara leans in and presses a soft kiss to Lena's lips.

"We," Kara confirms.

Lena exhales, tension bleeding from her in a visible whoosh. She steps Kara's arms when they open, nestling herself into the embrace as her hands grip tightly against Kara's shoulderblades.

"We'll do it together."

[wwwaegoncom]

empty office

At a dull work event, you and Aegon sneak away to a quiet office.

modern!aegon x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, fingering, drinking/alcohol, semi-public, mean aegon? (ever so slighty mean) few descriptions to what reader is wearing (skirt and heels)

authors note:

i love modern!aegon so much. Basically just sex no plot <3 this was actually originally a rafe cameron smut i wrote last year, but now i rewrote it to be an Aegon smut <333 i feel so cringe anytime i write smut... BUT MHMM HOPE U LIKE IT

"Aegon, we shouldn't be doing this" you giggled as you let Aegon drag you into an empty office.

You and Aegon had quietly slipped away from the work event, with a bottle of wine in his hand. Your father was Viserys' business partner for more than 20 years, which led you and Aegon to meet every now and then. The event had been a dinner, the kind where people stayed afterwards to network and exchange forced pleasantries. You and Aegon had been forced to attend. Neither of you stayed for the tiring small talk - you stayed to have an excuse to get drunk.

The event was as you had expected, boring speeches, boring people, talking business like it was the only thing that mattered. You had considered going home, but that was until you heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, as Aegon pulled up a chair next to you. He knew the people around you were too caught up in their conversations to even notice the two of you, or too drunk to care. He was too drunk to care. He snuck an arm around you, almost as if he had done it a million times before, whispering in your ear, suggesting the two of you should sneak out of there.

And that was all it took, and know you were in an empty office with him. You could have taken a cab to his or your apartment, but neither of you wanted to wait.

You didn't know whose office you were in, and frankly, you didn't care. "Calm down, nobody will even notice we're gone" Aegon reassured you, locking the door behind him.

"If we get caught I'm saying you seduced me"

You teased, the soft clicks of your heels filling the silence as you moved over to the desk. You hoisted yourself up the desk, crossing your legs as you watched how Aegon's eye followed your every movement. A frown almost formed on his lips when you crossed your legs.

You had met each other before. Polite smiles at other work events, the occasional small talk but it was never anything more than that. Even the summer the both of you interned together, you never got to really know him aside from the formalities.

Aegon had tried his best to stay away from you, but the sweet smiles and giggles he heard escape your lips, made him crave you even more. His father had told him, warned him, to stay away from you. He knew why he said it, you were the daughter of his business partner, and you were strictly off limits. So all he got was polite handshakes and a glance.

But when he saw you sitting all by yourself, downing what was probably your 4th glass of wine, he couldn't help but make a move.

Aegon let out a chuckle at your comment, as he opened the bottle of wine, taking a big sip before putting it down on the table.

His hands slid up your thighs, as he parted your legs with ease. "Seduced you? I think it's the other way around" Aegon commented, his voice deep and teasing. He stepped closer, situating himself between your now parted legs, one hand boldly resting on your inner thigh. The smirk that fell on his lips was pure arrogance, knowing you wouldn't push him away.

You leaned your face closer to him, just enough to make his pulse skip, he could smell your perfume and the wine that lingered on your breath. But you pulled away just as quickly, holding in a giggle as you looked up at him. Aegon's head tilted to the side, his eyebrows knitting together as you leaned away from him.

His hand started to move up under your skirt, stopping right at the hem, "pretty skirt" he commented. Aegon then leaned forward, his other hand pushing the hair on your shoulder back, exposing your neck to him.

He started to kiss down your neck. The alcohol in your system made you want him all the more. You could almost feel Aegon grinning against your neck, as he let out a chuckle. "You like that?" He teased, his voice low and almost a whisper. You nodded, your breath was starting to become heavy as you wrapped your arms around Aegon, pulling him closer. Your hands made their way down his sides, slowly caressing his shirt before they found their way to his belt, which you shakily tried to unbuckle. But before you could, Aegon slapped your hand away. "Aegon" you whined his name, leaning back to look into his eyes with a pout, but he didn't let you. He held your wrists together with his hands as you tried to get your hands free.

"Gods, you're impatient" he teased, releasing your wrists, as he gently rubbed them before his hands found their way beneath your skirt.

He was lightly tugging at your nylon tights, but he didn't tear them, just yet. "That won't do" he muttered, more to himself than to you as he looked down on the tights that covered your thighs. You had expected him to pull them down, but you should have known better. Before you even had the chance to react, he impatiently ripped them apart.

Just as you were about to complain, irritated that he just ripped your tights, his hands found their way between your thighs again, as he hiked up your skirt and pushed your underwear to the side. His fingers slid through your wetness, as he found your clit. Light moans started to fall from your lips, desperate for more. Your hands found their way to his hair, raking your nails through it, not even caring about your tights anymore. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to try and suppress them.

Aegons hand found its way to your face, lightly tapping on your cheek, a playful but commanding touch. "No, no" he murmured, his fingers continuing to circle your clit. "Open your eyes" His words were low, his voice smug and direct. You opened your eyes, your lips slightly parted from the moans and your breath was unsteady.

"Such a good girl." Aegon praised, almost in a mocking tone and his fingers started to move faster, and it was getting hard to keep quiet. He knew that. Lucky for you the event was taking place down the hall, but you still didn't want people who might be walking past the office to hear the lewd sounds you were making.

You tried your best to suppress your moans. Aegon tried his best to make them louder.

He was irritated that you would suppress your moans, so he removed his fingers from your clit as his fingers found their way inside you instead. You felt the moans escaping your lips when his fingers entered you, pumping in and out, your fingers desperately holding onto his hair.

You were trying so hard to be quiet, that you buried your head in his shoulder to try and muffle your moans. You felt him curl his fingers in you, and even though you couldn't see him, you knew he was that conceited smile across his lips, pleased he was making you feel so good.

"I don't have a condom with me" Aegon groaned, his face right next to your neck, you could the warmth of his breath against you, his fingers still pumping in and out of you. You leaned your head back, your eyebrows knitting together, trying to steady your voice "I'm on the pill" you murmured, looking into Aegons eyes. "Yeah?" he started to curl his fingers inside of you, hitting just the right spot.

But then he retracted his fingers from you, earning a whine from you. He carelessly wiped his fingers on the inside of his shirt, before taking a step back, the space between your legs now empty. You almost worried you had done something wrong, but Aegon spoke before you could even begin to ask him. "Turn around." He ordered. His tone was stern and his gaze lustful. But you happily obliged, jumping down from the desk, your knees a bit weak, as you turned around, placing your hands on the desk, kicking off the heels you had been wearing for better stability. And you quickly pulled down your panties, letting them fall to your ankles.

You could hear Aegon undoing his belt, and you turned your face to see him out of the corner of your eyes, he was impatiently trying to get his belt off as fast as possible.

"Impatient much?" you teased Aegon, it was almost reflexively to do so, even at this moment. "Shut the fuck up" he groaned, even though his words were harsh, his tone stayed teasing. He finally undid his belt, releasing his already hard cock from his boxers as you felt it against your ass.

You felt Aegon against your folds, and you couldn't stop a moan from escaping your lips when you felt his tip poking against your entrance. His hand wandered from your hip to your waist finally stopping when it reached your face, cupping your face as he turned your cheek so you would look at him, the best you could. You arched your back further into him, your body begging him to just take you.

Aegon's lips curled into a smirk, as he watched you badly you wanted him inside you, "impatient much?" he taunted, using your own words against you. His hand softly glided back down, landing on your lower back, making small tender circles with his thumb. He then fully entered you with no warning, harshly, and your body instinctively jolted forward, but Aegons hands quickly went to your hips to keep you in place.

Your fingers started to curl as they held onto the wooden desk, "you're taking me so well" Aegon breathed, and you could hear how his voice had started to become unsteady.

You felt Aegon lean in closer, his breath ghosting over the side of your neck. His face nestled into the crook of your neck, as he muttered something incoherent. His thrusts became less intense. He wrapped one of his arms around your waist, trying to bury himself deeper inside you, hitting the sweet spot in you. It was almost sweet how close he was to you, but what really caught your attention, was the sounds he was making. A low, almost needy whine as he continued to fuck into you. "you feel so good" Aegon murmured behind you, you could hear how his voice had started to become unsteady. Your moans had started to slow down, and you instinctively moaned his name.

He then pulled back, and his hands went back to your hip. He started to harshly pick up the pace, you almost felt as if he was treating you like a doll. His movements were so brutal, completely different from how tender he had just been. You felt your knees start to get wobbly, as you tried to keep yourself up, using the desk as support.

You considered asking him, begging him, to slow down. But every time he pulled your hips back, slamming into you, his cock hit the right pot. So you didn't do anything but take it.

"I'm close" you purred, looking back over your shoulder to try and get Aegons attention, his gaze fixated on how he slid in and out of you. But you managed to get his attention, a smirk spreading across his face when he made eye contact with you. His hand then sneaked around you, finding your clit, as he started to play with you. The same smug expression he always had on his face. "You gotta be quiet" Aegon chuckled, as he started to slow his movements, lazily playing with your clit. He was close too. You muttered his name, feeling yourself become overstimulated, it was all too much. Anything that was happening on the other side of the door was none of your concern now. Anybody walking past this office would hear your desperate pleas. "I can cum in you, right?" Aegon breathed, as he was trying not to cum inside you right this second, waiting for you to say yes. You nodded, permitting him to come in you. It didn't take him long after that to cum, filling you up.

He stayed inside you after he came, now fully focused on your pleasure. His fingers circled your clit again, doing his best to get you to cum around his cock, staying inside you for as long as he could.

You felt your knees buckle, and you had to lean down further onto the desk, resting on your elbows. You felt the tension build within you, as you put your hand over your mouth to conceal the sounds you were making. It only took a few more seconds and you felt yourself cumming, your breath panting as your fingers dug into the desk.

Aegon then slid out of you, grabbing a tissue off the desk to clean himself off, before putting his pants back on.

“You okay?” He asked you, head leaning slightly over your shoulder, taking another tissue to clean you up. You nodded, slightly whimpering when he cleaned you up. Aegon pulled your skirt back down to cover your ass, lightly slapping your ass.

You turned around to face him, sitting back down on the desk to remove the tights Aegon had ripped earlier. Your knees were too weak, your legs still shaking so you sat on the desk, trying to steady yourself.

"We should do that more often," Aegon muttered, his voice was a mix of satisfaction and amusement. He stepped closer to you, his breath was still unsteady as he reached out, his hands finding their way to your messy hair. His fingers tried their best to smooth out the strands of hair that had become dishevelled. A gesture that felt more intimate than you had expected.

[freyaphoria]

I see the request is back to open AAAAA!

lately I've been imagining if mingi is good at sewing and it's his soft side (because I saw the FIX ON stuffs and wondering if he produces the stuff by himself), so he had a crush with yn but he is to shy to say it. when he saw yn kissed by his best friend yunho he became so madly jealous and feel guilty because he can't blame his best friend and got mad to yn instead.

by the next day he saw yn and yn is smiling at mingi as if nothing happened.... he wonders if those pretty lips could smile only at him, by sewing yn's lips.

Broken Doll

tw: dark fic!!!! Yan!Mingi, kidnapping, stitches, fainting, blood, kissing, obsessive behaviors, mingi is sooo delulu loll, restriction with handcuffs (let me know if I missed something)

wc: 2.7k

taglist: @aim-blossom @bambisd0ll @oddracha @peqchplvto @hwxbibi (dm me if you want join the taglist)

Mingi stood in the dim light of his room, taking in the sight of his latest creation one final time. His fingers carefully traced the last knots and ties of the thread he had worked so diligently to secure. He let his eyes linger on the hoodie he had meticulously sewn just for you, its fabric soft and inviting, featuring his signature stitched phrase "fix on" that had become a signature of his work – it was the 47th item he had lovingly sewn with you in mind. With a careful motion, he folded the hoodie and placed it gently into the wardrobe he had designated exclusively for your clothes. Inside the closet, various dresses, t-shirts, skirts, coats, hoodies, and many other clothes were waiting, all sewn by him to fit your body and style perfectly. Mingi often daydreamed about the moment he would summon the courage to present these lovingly made items to you, to see you adorned in the clothes he had crafted with his own hands.

His eyes scanned the collection, trying to find which piece stood out as the most exquisite. If he were to gift you one tomorrow, which would be worthy of such an honor? Mingi's hand glided along the hangers, his fingertips brushing against the various fabrics. Despite the perfection he strived for in each garment, his eyes found minute imperfections in every piece. After careful consideration, he decided that the hoodie he had just completed would be the ideal first gift. It represented his most recent work, showcasing the refinement of his skills over time. The choice of your favorite color for the fabric and the elaborate embroidery of his "fix on" signature – a signature he had been incorporating into his creations for years – made it particularly special. The timing seemed perfect as well. With the weather turning cooler, gifting you the hoodie would allow him the pleasure of seeing you wear it. The thought of you wrapped in his handiwork sent a shiver of excitement through him.

This hoodie was not just a piece of clothing; it was a lasting impression of his feelings for you. He resolved that he wouldn’t postpone any longer; the next day would be the day he would finally tell you how he felt and present the hoodie to you. He had to stop his growing admiration for you from reaching a dangerous level, and the best way to do that was to tell you that he loved you.

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The following day, Mingi arrived on campus, his nerves frayed with anticipation. In his hands, he clutched the carefully wrapped gift, a physical manifestation of his affection. His body betrayed his anxiety – hands trembling, breath coming in short gasps, eyes heavy from a sleepless night spent rehearsing what he would say to you. As he scanned the familiar surroundings, he noticed something unusual: Yunho, his best friend and constant companion, was nowhere to be seen. This absence struck Mingi as odd. He and Yunho were practically inseparable, and it was unlike his friend not to check in with a simple "where are you?" message. As he walked, Mingi pulled out his phone and attempted to call Yunho, but there was no answer. His heart lowered slightly, as he could have used his friend's support and advice in this moment. Approaching the cafeteria, a familiar spot where they often met, he felt a surge of anticipation mixed with anxiety. He called Yunho again, hoping for a response, but what happened before him made his heart drop.

There, right in front of him, was Yunho, completely engrossed in a passionate kiss with you. You both looked so lost and passionate; Yunho’s hands were on your waist and your hands were tangled in Yunho’s hair. It took a moment, but when you caught sight of him standing there, your surprise registered on your face, and you instinctively pulled away from him; confusion clouded Yunho's face as he turned, suddenly locking gazes with his stunned friend.

In that moment, a whirlwind of emotions surged through Mingi – shock, betrayal, anger, and heartbreak collided within him. Despite the turmoil, Mingi didn't blame Yunho; after all, he had never told Yunho about his love for you. Yes, Yunho knew he was in love with someone, but Mingi had never said it was you. He didn't blame Yunho; if Yunho had known that Mingi was in love with you, he would never have done such a thing, Mingi was sure of that. All of Mingi's hurt and anger, therefore, became focused solely on you. Hadn't he made it clear before that he liked you? In his mind, he had made his feelings abundantly clear – the smiles, the shared class notes, the daily greetings. He believed his actions had spoken louder than words, making a formal confession almost unnecessary. But you, like a whore, had kissed his best friend, Yunho. Slut. How could you do this to Mingi? Despite all the clothes he had specially sewn for you, despite the masterpieces he had spent hours on, you had chosen his friend. Mingi could never forgive this.

You pulled away from Yunho's lips and smiled at Mingi. You fucking smiled. This had to be a joke, or Mingi must be having a terrible nightmare. Like a slut, you had cheated on him with his friend and then smiled to his face. That smile, which he had once found so endearing, now seemed to mock him. Mingi immediately left the cafeteria with growing anger and disappointment inside him and locked himself in the bathroom.

Of course, you and Yunho didn't understand what had happened. Mingi was just a friend to you, you had liked Yunho for weeks, and it was obvious that Yunho liked you too. Why had Mingi suddenly gotten angry and left? "Baby, let me check on Mingi." After Yunho kissed you one last time, you nodded, and with Yunho's leaving, you were left alone in the cafeteria.

Mingi's phone kept ringing with Yunho's missed calls, but Mingi didn't answer any of them. He wasn't angry at him; he just didn't know what to say to him. Mingi valued their friendship too much to risk saying something in the heat of the moment that he might later regret. You were the only one to blame here. You had gotten close to Yunho while Mingi was around, and on top of that, you had smiled at Mingi as if nothing had happened. A dark thought began to take root in his mind – you needed to be punished for the pain you had caused him.

Normally, Mingi wouldn't have kidnapped you; he had thought about it before and wanted you to fall in love with him on your own and live with him willingly, but after this, Mingi was going to kidnap you and punish you.

He stuffed the gift he had carefully prepared and wrapped for you into his bag and headed towards the parking lot, where the cameras had broken down long ago but no one had fixed it.

Yunho searched for Mingi everywhere in the college, called him countless times on the phone, but there was no sound from Mingi. When he realized that his class was about to start, he gave up and decided to stop by Mingi's house after class.

Mingi waited for your class to end, like a lion lying in ambush, beside your car, waiting for you without being seen by anyone. When he finally spotted you walking alone towards the parking lot, a momentary pang of guilt struck him. You looked so vulnerable, so unaware of the turmoil raging within him. But in his twisted logic, he pushed aside these feelings, convincing himself that his actions were justified.

Mingi's pent-up emotions exploded in a moment of brutal force as he ambushed you from behind. The sound of your head repeatedly hitting the car echoed in his ears, but he couldn't stop. He was hitting so fast that you were sure you would die there. Before you could even process what was happening, darkness engulfed you, and Mingi took your car key that had fallen from your hand, opened your car, seized the opportunity to bundle you into your own car. After making sure he hadn't left any traces behind, he got into the driver's seat. "I did this because you made me angry. You have to pay for what you've done." Mingi? This name flashed in your mind. The voice belonged to Mingi. But why would Mingi do this to you? Mingi's voice sounded very distant, as if you were in a glass jar and hearing the outside muffled. You tried to move your hands, but they were very heavy. When he started your car, you stopped resisting and closed your eyes.

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When your eyes fluttered open, a wave of numbness enveloped your entire body, leaving you disoriented and struggling to piece together your surroundings. You racked your brain for any memory of what had transpired, but found only a disconcerting void. There was an echo of a sound that faintly resonated in your ears, reminiscent of an engine's hum, yet softer and more persistent, like a background murmur that wouldn't fade away.

Your hands were tied firmly to something on either side, and as you tried to shift them, a feeling of helplessness washed over you. The bright white light that flooded your vision was blinding, making it nearly impossible to keep your eyes open for more than a fleeting moment. Attempts to speak or scream were futile; your mouth felt as if it were encased in a thick fog of numbness. You couldn't even muster the strength to part your lips or form the words that desperately wanted to escape.

As your vision slowly clears, you make out the silhouette of someone, a man hunched over a desk. And that annoying sound that was constantly piercing your brain was coming from there. You wanted to open your mouth and tell him to stop that, but both your mind was very tired, and your mouth was numb; you couldn't feel your lips, tongue, or teeth. The figure paused their work, momentarily silencing the continuous sound, and you watched as he picked up a pair of scissors from the cluttered desk, his movements deliberate yet mysterious. When he lifted his head, revealing a piece of fabric that lay in his hands, clarity began to creep in—you realized he was sewing something with a sewing machine. But confusion clouded your thoughts.

But why? Why were you here, and why was he sewing something here? Did you know him? Your mind was very foggy; you tried to come to your senses, but it was very difficult. A flicker of recognition stirred within you. You felt a sense of familiarity toward the person, although his name eluded you. Min... It started with an 'M.'

"So you're awake, doll," the figure spoke, getting up from the chair and making his way towards you. As he approached, a sense of dread settled in your stomach. "I didn't think you'd sleep for such a long time; I thought you were dead." He crouched down to meet your gaze, his expression a mix of surprise and something darker. "How do you feel?" he asked, his hand brushing softly against your head, yet the touch felt unsettling. You wanted to say you felt disgusting, but your lips didn't move. He got up from where he was crouching and sat next to you on the soft bed you were lying on. "It's silly of me to ask you questions and expect you to answer," you didn't understand what he was talking about. You were getting more and more silent, and the pain in your head had reached a noticeable level. You wanted to moved your arms, but cold metal handcuffs on both sides prevented you. Panic was progressively spreading through your veins, and your irregular breathing was the only sound filling the silent room.

He gazed at you for what felt like an eternity, allowing a heavy sigh to escape his lips. "You look very beautiful," he said, a statement that should have brought warmth but instead sent a chill down your spine. As he reached out toward you, an instinctual urge to pull back surged within you, but the energy to do so eluded you. His fingers brushed against what you thought were your lips, a gentle caress that you couldn’t feel, leaving you in an unsettling state of numbness. "First, let me remind you why you're here," he continued, his voice smooth yet sinister. "I've loved you for a long time, I admire you, but you, like a whore, went and kissed my best friend. That's why I kidnapped you."

Mingi.

The name jolted your memory back to fragmented moments; flashes of laughter, stolen glances, and the painful realization that he harbored feelings for you. Confusion wrestled with disbelief as he spoke, all while a smile danced on his lips, his fingers still trailing along your face. The smile was disarming, but it contrasted sharply with the surreal horror of the moment. You suddenly felt a wave of panic when his hands moved down to your clothes. You were even more confused when you noticed that your outfit had completely changed. The new clothes were made of a fabric you didn't recognize, and a deep sense of dread set in as you looked down at them in shock. As you were trying to look at yourself in surprise, Mingi spoke. "Ah, do you like your new clothes? I sewed them. I made them all carefully to fit your body perfectly." Due to the increasing panic, your head was starting to spin, and you were slowly regaining consciousness.

You wanted to shout at him, curse at him; you wanted to ask why you were here, tell him to let you go, but you couldn't open your mouth and speak, as if your mouth was numb like in a nightmare. "I also sewed something else; would you like to see it?" His question hung in the air, and you could only manage a slow shake of your head, a silent plea for him to stop. The handcuffs biting into your wrists were relentless, the tightness a stark reminder of your captivity, and a numbness was beginning to creep into your fingers.

Mingi excitedly stood up, walked a bit in the room, and took a large mirror in his hand and approached you again. As you were about to try to pull back in fear, you saw your own reflection in the mirror.

Was that thing you saw really you? It was as if you were seeing a film frame from a banned torture movie. What you saw was so foreign to you that you couldn't even react at first. Your lips were sewn together, meticulously stitched up like a doll, swollen and bloodied, thick threads crisscrossing in a grotesque pattern that held them shut, and gave a smiling expression.

This couldn’t be real. You felt the numbness in your lips, yet the sight before you defied all comprehension. Your mind raced; how could this be happening? Surely you would feel something if your lips were truly sewn shut. But right now you felt nothing.

"How is it? Do you like it?" Mingi's voice sliced through your panicked thoughts, his expression filled with a sickening delight. You tried to respond, to express the intense horror consuming you, but your voice betrayed you, silenced in this waking nightmare. "I sewed your lips because you smiled at someone other than me, because you talked to him, and because you kissed him. You belong to me, only me." A small sound escaped from your throat, a pathetic echo of your horror. Mingi’s smile broadened, but it was devoid of warmth, a chilling reminder of the depths of his obsession.

"Broken toys need to be repaired, don’t they? You were broken too, doll, very broken." He lowered the mirror, closing the distance between you, leaning in with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "So I repaired my most beautiful toy by sewing it.” You started to shake and felt like you couldn't breathe. “You can just smile at me." Just as Mingi was about to approach your lips and kiss you, he was interrupted by the familiar ringing of his doorbell.

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a/n: Hello! If you read this far, thank you, you were not bored lolll. I would be very happy if you could give me feedbacks!❤️❤️❤️

[demonsslayersstuff]

The Five Times You Sleep Together (Gojo x Reader)

A/N: Reposting

A/N: This is a Gojo x Reader drabble about the five times you sleep together. Not posted in chronological order. Mentions of sex and kissing but nothing too detailed. It is mostly about just sleeping lol. Enjoy!

Fourth Time:

Grief is what caused the two of you to sleep together, you both needed the comfort of the other, the feel of someone laying next to you, the knowledge that you weren't alone.

Gojo finds you standing in the courtyard, the rubble of destroyed buildings strewn about. You had gone there because you wanted to see the last thing your former friend saw before they had died. In away it was almost closure for yourself, seeing the damage and knowing he didn't survive. While you felt deep sadness, there was also a sense of relief with his passing.

Neither of you speak as the white-haired man comes to stand beside you, the two of you had been friends, truthfully a bit more for over a decade, so words did not need to be spoken. You look at him, noting the fatigue and hollowness in his eyes. While Geto had been your friend, he wasn’t as close to you as he had been to Gojo. He was Gojo’s best friend. You grab his hand and begin to walk away from the chaos of the day. The two of you walking the familiar path to the dormitories of the school.

Soon you enter your room, shoes toed off, heading for the bed. You reach for his jacket, unbuttoning it and slipping it off his shoulders without protest. He does the same for you, jacket removed and tossed into some random corner of the room. You shimmy out of your pants, him doing the same before the two you crawl into bed. You lay your head onto Gojo's chest as an arm wraps around your waist, his other hand threading through your hair.

"Sleep, I'll be here when you wake up, I promise", he whispers. You feel his lips brush against your forehead, your eyes dropping with the steady brush of his fingers in your hair. "Satoru...", you mumble. "I'm sorry, I'll always be here for you", you continue before drifting off to sleep. Gojo holds you a bit tighter that night.

First Time:

Nightmares is what sends you to your friends room at two in the morning. After you'd failed to save someone during you previous mission your nights were plagued with their screams replaying in your mind, you hadn't slept well in over two weeks.

The door opens, Gojo looking down at you with a surprised face after you'd knocked. "Can't sleep", you say walking into his room. Unsurprisingly you find candy wrappers, clothes, and books strewn all over the place. "You want to talk about it?", Gojo asks, motioning you to sit on on his bed. "I can't get her screams out of my head", you tell him after a moment of silence.

He hums for a few seconds before, “Here”, Gojo says moving the blankets to the side, indicating that he wanted you to lay down. “No, no, I can’t sleep here”, you tell him, cheeks flushing. “Why not? This not what you had in mind for our first time together?”, he quips with a cheeky grin that you would have smacked off his face if not for his infinity. “Ok, ok. I promise I’ll be a gentleman. I just think you might be able to sleep better with me here”, Gojo says. You ponder his words for a moment, “No funny business?”, you ask him pointedly. “I promise sweets”, he replies.

You sigh before slipping in the blankets, scooting towards the wall as Satoru follows careful to keep a bit of distance between the two of you. It’s not long before you feel the warmth emitting from his body, making you sleepy, eyes closing. But before you can, the scene that had been haunting you replays in your mind, your breathing quickens. Suddenly you feel Gojo’s body close to yours, his hand on your waist, lips near your ear. “It’s ok, I’m here”, he whispers. “Listen to my breathing, breathe with me”, he tells you. You follow his instructions silently and after a few minutes you find yourself drifting to sleep, breathing relaxed.

Hours later when the sun light peaks through the window, you awaken wrapped protectively in his arms and for the first time in weeks you felt safe and rested.

The Third Time:

You find him sitting in the dark classroom, glasses off, staring out the window. It had been mere hours since his best friend had defected and you were worried.

You approach him delicately, Gojo was not one to talk about his feelings, preferring to suffer alone in silence. “Sato”, you say quietly, entering the room. He doesn’t respond, continuing to look out the window. You slowly move to stand next him, glancing to get a good look at him. His usually sparkling blue eyes were now dull and devoid of his usual happiness. You could see the pain on his face, the fatigue in the way his shoulders slumped in an almost defeated way.

You reach out and grasp his hand in yours, surprised his infinity was off. “Come with me”, you tell him. “I don’t…”, he finally answers, though his words die as his voice cracks. “Don’t argue with me Satoru, I’m not leaving you alone tonight”, you say in the most authoritative voice you have. Gojo’s eyes go wide, but surprisingly he doesn’t argue, instead follows behind you, your hand still gripping his.

A few moments later your pushing him through your door and onto your bed. You watch as he curls up into a ball, dejectedly staring at your wall. You sigh before you crawl into bed. Though you are significantly smaller than him you wrap your body around his, your right arm crossing his chest, leg overlapping his.

You stay like that for a long time, in absolute silence. Your presence was enough to soothe him, to make it known he wasn’t alone in this. Eventually Gojo turns to face you. He just stares into your eyes and you swear you’ve never seen him so broken. You move your hand to softly cup his cheek, your thumb softly brushing it. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I am sorry”, you tell him quietly. You see a few tears slip from his eyes, which you quickly brush away. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk, I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, ok”, you continue.

Gojo continues to stare at you for a moment before he suddenly closes the distance between your faces, kissing you. Though you are surprised, you don’t shy away. This probably isn’t the healthiest way to handle this situation, but you let yourself be devoured in the kiss, let his hands grip your waist as you as he moves to hover on top of you, your arms wrapping around his neck, your silent permission to him that this was ok.

One day you’ll find the time to have a real conversation to sort out these feelings, but for now you let him remove your clothes, let him touch you in places you’ve only dreamed about. You let Satoru Gojo make your body his own and he lets you do the same. Hours later when the two you are nestled in each other’s arms, sleep ready to take over, do you hear, “Thank you”, whispered and you know that things will get better.

The Second Time:

“Well this is just peachy”, you say finally breaking the silence between the three of you. You, Gojo, and Nanami had been tasked on an overnight mission in Osaka. Though you’d been promised a triple room the three of you continue to stare at the one single bed and one queen sized bed in uncomfortable silence.

“I guess you and I are bunk mates”, Gojo says looking over at Nanami. You also look over at Nanami, though more so because of concern. While the two boys would work together without complaint during a mission, sleeping together was one thing you knew Nanami was not happy about.

You hear your junior curse under his breath, saw the unpleasant look on his face. You sigh, hoping you would not regret the words you were about to say. “Nanami you take the twin bed”, you say. Both boys whip around in surprise. “Senpai, no”, Nanami begins, but you wave him off. “Don’t worry it about, I’m trying to save your sanity from this psycho”, you tell him, thumbing point to Gojo.

“Hey!”, he responds with feigned hurt. “Still, it’s not fair for you to sleep with him-” Nanami argues, but you interject. “It’s ok, besides this wouldn’t be the first time”, you tell him. Your eyes go wide when you finish speaking, realizing the mistake you had just made. Gojo laughs as Nanami’s face turns the darkest shade of red you’d ever seen.

“I see so it’s like that. Very well. I’m gonna, uhh, I’ll just meet you by the 7/11 in five minutes”, Nanami tumbles over his words before darting out of the room. “No Nanami it’s not like that”, you shout after him, but the blond haired sorcerer is gone. “Nice going sweets”, Gojo says finally says after letting the scene play out. You give him a heated look before heading out to explain what you meant to Nanami.

Hours later, when your mission is completed you come to not regret your words. Not when Gojo is quick to cuddle with you, you’re too tired to complain, though secretly you relish in his touch. Sleep finds you quickly that night wrapped in the arms of the strongest sorcerer.

The Fifth Time:

It’s not long after Geto’s death that Satoru seeks the warmth of your bed again, just as he’d done the first night of his friend’s death. He doesn’t knock, he doesn’t need to, not anymore anyway.

The two of you had been playing a quiet little game of expressing your emotions physically, though neither of you made an effort to speak of them. For the past ten years it had been stolen touches and glances. The occasional “slip up” of kisses and heated moments being shared every now and then.

You didn’t bother trying to be with anyone else. You knew from the age of eighteen, when the two of you had shared that intimate night together, that Satoru Gojo was your soulmate. You were his, he made zero effort to push you away, to find anyone else. There was no point in his mind, you were his, had been for ten years. Though again neither of you had ever spoken about this.

That night you hear your door creak open and close, you feel the familiar weight on the mattress as it dips down. Strong arms wrap your waist, pulling you flush again him. “You awake sweets?”, Gojo asks. You hum in a sleepy response, which quietly changes to a squeal as he flips you over to face him. “Sato-”, you begin but the words die in your throat when you look up into his face. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful creature on the entire planet.

It’s not long before the two of you find yourself in the familiar frenziness of clothes being ripped off, hands exploring each other’s bodies, lips locking together. The difference is that as the two of you reach your highs an “I love you”, spills from his lips, rocking your heart to its core. “Be mine”, Gojo says later after removing his face from your neck, the weight of what he’d previously said still hanging in the air. You cup his face with your hands. “I was already yours Satoru”, you tell him softly. Your admission brings your favorite crooked smile to his face.

Later after the two of you clean up and sink back into the comfort of each other’s arms you say, “Move the rest of your stuff here”, quietly, testing new waters. “Tomorrow morning”, he replies, sleep heavy in his voice. You nestle deeply into his chest whispering, “I love you too”, before sleep finally overtakes you. After that night, the two of you rarely slept apart, finally embracing your true feelings that started ten years ago.

[ripdragonbeans]

Not Him, I Swear // Modern!Aegon x Reader // Pt. 3

Summary: You go on your second date with Aegon and it ends up being much more fun that you anticipated.

CW: afab reader, profanity, eventual smut, Aegon being an ass, oh but he has feelings??????

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The next few days were filled with cute texts and fluffy dates. Aegon respected your wishes and didn't push you to go any further than a make out session. It drove you crazy; you wanted him but you were scared. As much as you wanted to forget all the pain Jason caused you, it was something that stayed. It tainted your views of love, something that can be hard to make new. 

Aegon seemed too good to be true.

But you swallowed your fears and pushed on with your relationship with him. 

“Hey, man!” Cregan strolled into the room. “How's our bet going? Is she begging for you yet?” He plopped himself down next to Aegon and put his feet on the table.

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he murmured. “No, she's not begging yet, but I'll get there.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Gods, I almost feel bad.”

Cregan’s eyebrow rose. “Bad? Don't tell me that my best friend is actually catching feelings for someone.”

“No, I'm not catching feelings for anyone.” Aegon got up to grab another beer; his third one already, and it was barely noon.

“The way you talk about her says differently.”

“I haven't talked about her.”

“Not obviously, of course. At any mention of the bet or anything, you tense up. Something’s going on in that head.”

“Whatever, Cregan,” Aegon muttered. “Since you're so focused on annoying me, I'm gonna go to my room.” He gave his friend a mocking wave before leaving the living room to his own.

He put his head in his hands and let out a groan. He couldn't be catching feelings, he shouldn't be falling for her. But he is. 

The way she smiles. The way her eyes light up. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear. It's like looking into a bright light and being engulfed in its warmth. 

But he had to do this. He needed to prove that he could have anyone he wanted. If not to himself, then to his friend. As shallow as it was, he wanted to follow through. He hoped she wouldn't hate him in the end. 

“Hel, I really can't believe it,” you gushed. “I know you said not to get too involved with him but he's already so much better than Jason!” 

You plopped down on the couch, closed your eyes, and stretched. The wonderful feeling of being loved say well inside your heart. Despite the aching fears and the anxiety that comes along after being cheated on, the feeling of being loved triumphed ever just a tiny bit. 

“I wouldn't go ahead and say that, bestie. Please, be on your guard. You know all the stories, all the rumors, and I can even testify for some of them.” Helaena held your hands and looked you in the eye. “Be careful, please.”

A voice came from the hallway. “Yeah, what she said.” Jace walked over to the two of you sitting on the couch. He wore a grim expression on his face. “I don't mean to hurt you but I've heard that he's just trying to get you to sleep with him, all for some bet.”

Your heart sank at the thought but you pushed it aside.

“Very funny, Jace,” you said. “But I don't need that negativity in my life.”

“It's not negativity if it's true.” He looked at you with pity in his eyes. 

You shook off the expression and took a deep breath. “Why can't you two just be happy for me?” 

Helaena squeezed the hand she was holding. “We're happy for you, we just want you to be careful. We hate to see you hurt.”

“It's a risk, isn't it? All relationships are. I know Aegon and I will either end up together forever or eventually break up. It's up to us, not you two, but me and Aegon, how bad that ending will be.”

Helaena huffed. “Okay, I'll drop it. For now.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you.” You turned to address both Jace and Helaena. “Now, would you two like to know what's happening next?”

“As hesitant as I am, yes,” Helaena said. 

Jace nodded his head in agreement.

You pulled out your phone to read the text messages between you and Aegon.

“Our next date is a movie!” You announced.

There was a beat of silence before Jace broke it. “A movie? Isn't that a little cliche?”

You frowned at him. “Shut up, it's something.”

“What movie are you guys gonna catch?” Helaena cut in. 

“Oh! Um…” you bowed your head in embarrassment and mumbled your answer.

“I'm sorry? What was that?” Jace leaned in. A knowing smirk graced his lips.

You mumbled your answer again, but a little louder.

“Bestie, I still can't hear you!” 

“Shrek 2.” 

You look up in shame. The judgment you feel from them was too much.

“...I'm sorry, did you just say Shrek 2?” Clarified Jace.

“It's the best one!”

Helena laughed. “Considering it's you and Aegon, it makes sense. Weird choice, but yeah.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, time to get you date ready!”

“‘Date ready?’ Hel, I’ve got five hours until I have to leave. I have time.”

“For what I have planned for you? Nope, five hours is just enough time for me and Jace to get you set.”

Jace froze hearing his name. “Me? What do I have to do?”

“Shut up, you're moral support,” Helaena rolled her eyes in amusement. “Now, let's go.”

Helaena offered you her hand but you hesitated slightly. What if this is just a plot to convince you to not go? But when you looked at your friends all you could see was the love they had for you.

“Alright, let's get this started,” you smiled.

Four hours later had you sitting in a chair with your back straight and a mirror behind you. 

“Annnnnd done!” Helaena turned your chair around so you could see yourself.

You took in the image, your hair all done nicely, your facial features enhanced, all of it. You couldn't help the smile that made its way.

“Helaena,” you started, “my gods, you did an amazing job!” 

You turned toward Jace, who was sitting on the arm of the couch. 

“Yeah,” he said between handfuls of chips, “you look great. Aegon is gonna shit himself.” 

“I don't know about that,” you rolled your eyes. “He's been with a shit ton of other girls before me, I doubt I'm the prettiest.”

A hand smacked your head. 

“No. You're the hottest he's ever been with and will only be with for the rest of your lives.”

“Wow, and I thought you were dead set on me not being with him.”

“Only to protect you! But,” she sighed, “if this is how it goes then he better not break your heart. He does that. I'll chop up his dick in his sleep.”

“Yeah, and I'll fuck up his face,” Jace added.

You laughed at your friends, your heart full. “You two are so extra.”

“It's called being best friends,” Jace said as he joined you and Helaena at the mirror. 

Looking at the three of you, you thought of all the trials you've been through. All the heartbreak, the laughs, the highs and the lows. Without them who knows what you would be like. You interlocked your hands with both of them and leaned back.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you guys, but I'm grateful for you two and love you.”

Beep beep!

The sound of the honking car was quickly followed by a text. You picked up your phone and couldn't stop the smile. Of course Aegon would do this. As you readied yourself to leave the apartment, you did one last look in the mirror. 

You were happy with how you looked; all dolled up for the date. Just enough to be enticing but not so much in your face. With a pep in your step, you made your way to the front door. 

Aegon’s eyes went wide when he saw you. “You look…”

You nodded for him to continue.

“Amazing. You look amazing.” Aegon flashed you a big smile.

“You don't look too bad yourself,” you replied as you got in the car.

Aegon’s car was messy but it could be a lot worse. Luckily the trash wasn't food trash but rather random papers and receipts that were strewn across the floor and the back seat. It also smelled vaguely of weed.

“You smoke?” You asked him.

Aegon pulled out of the driveway. “Yeah, and I vape every now and then if I want a flavor or something. You?” 

“I've been curious about it but no, I haven't done either.”

“Wanna try? We can pull over and I can roll you a joint.”

A smile crept onto your face. There were butterflies in your stomach but you were excited to take the plunge.

Once Aegon pulled over into an unmarked parking lot, he pulled out the weed, the paper, and lighter. He was careful to roll the joint nicely for you. Once he finished he looked at his work and gave you a smile. “Ta-da! One joint rolled for my kitten.”

“Okay, cool. I can do this.” You told yourself.

Aegon looked at you with concern. “You don't have to smoke if you don't want to.”

“No, but I really want to.”

“Okay.” He nodded his head. “I'll light it. Then all you have to do is inhale through your mouth, hold it for a bit then exhale through your mouth. Simple.”

“Simple. Right.”

“Okay, here we go.”

Aegon lit it then brought the joint up to your mouth. You gently wrapped your lips around the tip and you did as he said. 

Inhale.

You felt the smoke fill your mouth.

Hold.

You let it sit and go down your throat.

Exhale.

A puff of smoke flew out of your mouth.

As a calming sensation sprinkled through your body you have Aegon a relaxed smile.

“You feeling okay?” Aegon asked you 

You laughed a bit. “Yeah, I feel good.”

Aegon took a drag from the joint himself. “Wanna get high before we watch the movie?”

“Hell yeah.”

Before heading off to the movie theater, you and Aegon shared the joint. It didn't take long for you to get high but Aegon finished it off. He was careful not to get higher than just having a buzz since he was driving. The rest of the ride was filled with you babbling about everything and nothing. Aegon smiled and let you go on. 

Arriving at the theater, you let out a little giggle. “I'm so excited for this, Aegon.” You slurred his name.

“Yeah.” He couldn't stop himself from smiling at you. Getting out of the car, he circled around to open the passenger door. “Time to get out, kitten.”

You giggled again. “I like that you call me kitten. It's cute and it kinda turns me on.”

Aegon gulped down a breath. “That's great; time to see the movie.”

Letting go of Aegon’s hand, you put both of yours on his chest. “I wanna be with you.”

He pushed your hands down and kept them firmly in his. Aegon looked you in the eye. “And we will but not like this. I want you to be sober when I take you.”

You huffed. “Okay.”

Finally getting you to step out of the car, Aegon went back to only holding one hand as he led you through the parking lot and into the theater.

“Mmm I want popcorn and an Icee,” you said as soon as you walked in. The smell of popcorn immediately surrounded you.

“I'll get you popcorn and a water,” Aegon said.

You stamped your foot. “But I want an Icee!”

He tugged on your hand to get you to look at him. “Kitten, you need water. Trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” Another giggle escaped you.

After buying popcorn and water, Aegon led the way to your numbered theater to watch Shrek 2. At first you wanted to sit up front but he pulled you away to the rows in the back.

“No one needs to know you're high,” he said as you made your way up the stairs. 

“But you know I'm high,” you observed.

“I'm the one that got you high, kitten.”

“Oh, yeah.”

As you sat down in your chair, all you could think about was getting as close to Aegon as possible. Thankfully, these were the newer, fancier theater chairs. You reclined your chair and moved the armrest out of the way so you could lean on Aegon.

“You and popcorn,” you said as you snuggled up to him. “The best combination ever.”

“Don't forget Shrek.”

“And Shrek.”

Aegon kissed the top of your head as the lights went down and the movie began.

While Shrek 2 was already one of the funniest moments of all time, watching it high made it even funnier.

“Prince Charming looks like Jason,” you whispered, eyes wide. “I bet his dick is small like Jason’s, too.”

Aegon choked on his water. He stole a look at you but all he saw was a girl high as fuck while watching Shrek 2. Gods, he wanted to kiss you then and there.

The movie continued with your constant one liners about how everything in Shrek related to something or someone in your life. Somehow you were Shrek, Fiona was Aegon (which he was happy about), Donkey was Helaena, and Puss in Boots was Jace. To you, it all made sense. To Aegon, it was simply blabbering that entertained him.

As the credits rolled on the screen, you lolled your head against Aegon’s shoulder once again. “I’m tired, Aeg.”

“You’re coming down from your high, kitten,” he assured you. “Time to get up and head home.”

“I don’t wanna move.” You slunk down in your seat.

Aegon laughed. “They’re gonna kick us out anyway if you don’t get up. What if I helped you?”

You held out both arms. “Yes, please.”

Aegon moved to stand in front of you to pull you up. Instead of letting go, however, he tucked you into his side. Together, you made your way out of the movie theater.

“Can we go to your place?” you asked him as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“No, I’m going to drop you off at my sister’s.”

All of a sudden you wanted to cry. “Why? Do you not like me?”

“That’s not it. You’re high and I’m going to take care of you.”

Your mood instantly switched. “I’d love for you to take care of me.” Heat began pooling in your belly while you placed a hand on his thigh.

Reluctantly, Aegon moved your hand off of him. “Not like that. I’m going to be responsible this one time and take you back to Helaena’s.”

“Come on, be irrisp, irrrrsp, irrisponble this one time.”

“If you want to be in my bed you’re going to have to be sober, kitten.”

You crossed your arms. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

“I know, what a bore.” He turned into the driveway. “Time to go.” He walked over to your side to open the door and walk you to the front. “I loved tonight.”

“I love you too, Aegon,” you yawned.

Aegon stopped, stunned. “I think you mean you loved tonight.”

You hummed. “No, I love you.”

He nodded his head, mouth slightly agape, as he took you Helaena’s room. When he knocked on the door Helaena popped out.

Her eyes instantly went to you, leaning all your weight on Aegon. “What did you do?!”

Aegon shrugged. “She wanted to get high so I let her. I only got buzzed but she is definitely high.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“It’s loud,” you moaned. “And bright.”

“Gods, get her in here.” Helaena motioned for Aegon to bring you into the room.

Immediately, you went for the bed and flopped down. Aegon was careful as he tucked you in. Helanea watched in awe of how sweet he was being to you. As soon as you drifted off to sleep, Helaena took Aegon into the hallway to talk.

“Have you been like this all night?” she questioned.

“You mean like the wonderful gentleman I am? Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so kind to her?”

He shrugged. “What can I say, Hel. I like her.”

“No, when you like girls you just charm them and then fuck them. This is the second date you’ve gone on with her. Something is up.”

Aegon ran his hand down his face. “Let me do this, just once, let me be the good guy.”

Helaena looked at him warily. “Fine. But if you do anything to hurt her, I will personally destroy your life.”

[zenixstime]

LN4 \ LANDO

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Choir x Jock ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Jock. That’s what Lando is. The Stereotypical, football player; cheerleading lover, nerd hating bully, Jock. Or, that’s what everyone thought.

You walk into your Choir Class as usual, always after 6th period P.E, surprisingly, not sweating, or stinking. Not like most people can relate.

You look around and see your usual classmates, the nerdy, bullied, classmates. You used to be embarrassed by them, embarrassed that you even knew them. You got over it by Junior year, you didn’t care that you fit in, you just wanted to have fun. You walk over to your usual section, Soprano. You like to think you’re pretty talented, that you’re good enough to be in advanced choir, which you have to audition for.

You grab your seat that’s stacked up on top of other chairs, setting it in your usual spot, and throwing your bag into the corner of the room. Sitting down in the chair, you check your phone for the time.

‘God, I wish this class started already.’ Thinking to yourself, wanting to get it over with. You enjoy singing, just not after doing Physical Activity.

Your friends sit next to you, though you don’t talk or interact with them, just listening in on the conversation and waiting for class to start.

Everyone’s already sat down, which is why you’re confused to see the class door open. ‘Is it Mr. Rodrigo?’ You think, but; you just saw him in the practice rooms, that don’t block sound very well. Squinting your eyes, since you don’t have the best vision, you see him. Lando. THE Lando Norris, walking into Choir. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, you look confused.

Turning over to your friends, you ask them “What is he doing here? I thought he had like, I don’t know, football or something.” Your tone raised just a bit, sounding confused as ever.

Lando walks over to Mr. Rodrigo and they exchange a few whispers, before he walks over to the guys section.

You and your friends exchange a few words before you focus on Mr. Rodrigo, as class is starting. You all start working on the song you’re going to perform at a concert for Halloween called ‘Fix You’ by Coldplay.

After class is done, you grab your bag and walk out, accidentally bumping into Lando. You squeeze your eyes and purse your lips together before relaxing your face and turning to him. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

He looks down at you, his eyes not showing a hint of anger or frustration, if you look closely, it kind of looks like he’s.. smiling?

“It’s okay, just don’t do it next time.” He said, his British accent ringing through your ears like you’re hitting the triangle instrument. He walks off, his bag slinging over his left shoulder and the rest of it hanging down.

You look as confused as ever, muttering “what the fuck?” to yourself. You start walking out of class, not even thinking about it.

(Time skip because I don’t know what to say AHH I’m so sorry I know this is unprofessional 😓💔)

You’re laying in your bed, your room messy since you were having a breakdown this morning about not having the right clothes to wear. Scrolling through your phone, you get a notification on Instagram.

‘Landonorris has requested to follow you’

You raise an eyebrow in confusion, you accept the follow request and follow him back. Of course his account is public. You scroll through his account, looking at his photos. Football.. football.. family.. football.. family.. vacation.. typical.

You instantly get a messaged from him, you open it and see what it says.

’‘Hey:)’‘

You panic instantly, not knowing what to say. Lando is talking to YOU. You frantically try and figure something out to say.

’‘Hey?’‘ You curse yourself silently, thinking the message sounded WAY too rude. Can’t take it back, though.

’‘What’re you doing?’‘ He messaged, his bubble popping up almost instantly after you sent your message.

’‘Oh uhm, nothing. Just chilling in bed.., how about you?’‘ Was that too much information? FUCK.

’‘Oh, me too! I was just wondering if you had the link to the song we’ll be singing?’‘

’‘I do. Here. *Link*’‘ You send the link and figure he won’t say anything after that.

’‘Thank you, cutie. ;) ’‘

“CUTIE?! CUTTIEEEE?!! AM I DREAMING? WHATEVER. SHIT I left him on seen. He won’t think anything of it, right? He didn’t mean anything by it.. what the fuck.. I’m going to bed.”

You put your phone on your nightstand and charge it, putting on your alarm and closing your eyes, soon enough falling asleep.

(PART 2??)

[drewharrisonwriter]

Life Well Loved

Status: One Shot, Complete

Summary: Dieter Bravo’s life proves that plans are overrated—and he’s never been more right about not having one.

Word Count: 12.9k words -- I KNOW! (In Monica Geller's voice)

A/N: Am I having a Dieter brain rot? Why yes, yes, I am. I know I should be writing the next chapter of Lifeline, but here we are. This story contains themes of pregnancy and navigating unexpected life changes, with emotionally intense scenes that touch on topics like potential pregnancy termination, personal doubts, and fears. Though it's mostly fluff, the narrative leans toward a hopeful and supportive direction but explores the complexities of relationships and personal growth. Because hey, it's Dieter!

Warnings: Allusion to abortion, brief mentions of substance use (past), discussions of anxiety and self-doubt, public scrutiny/social media negativity, mentions of past parental loss, minor family tensions, and emotional conversations around pregnancy. Please read with care if these subjects are sensitive for you.

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

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

Dieter Bravo never thought he’d end up married, let alone to his best friend. It wasn’t the kind of love story he had planned for himself, but then again, Dieter’s plans were usually an afterthought to his impulsive nature. He met her—his wife, the love of his life—years ago at a book signing. He’d been dragged there by a friend who swore her mystery novels were like something straight out of an Agatha Christie thriller, but with a modern, edgier twist.

“Come on, man. Just try something new,” his friend had nudged, practically shoving Dieter into the crowded bookstore. “She’s hot and her books are actually good. Not that you’d know.”

Dieter rolled his eyes but followed, pretending not to care. He didn’t read much beyond scripts, but when he saw her—standing there all wide-eyed and charming behind the signing table, chatting easily with fans—he was hooked. She had this warmth about her, a smile that reached her eyes, and a way of making everyone feel like they were the only person in the room.

When it was his turn in line, Dieter cleared his throat, a little unsure of what to say. “So, uh, is it true you based your killer on your ex?” he asked, flashing her his signature smirk.

She looked up, amused. “Only the charming parts. The murderous tendencies are purely fictional.”

Dieter chuckled, genuinely entertained. “Good to know. I’ll keep my charming side in check.”

She laughed, and Dieter swore he could listen to that sound all day. But the moment passed quickly, and they parted ways, the brief exchange lingering in Dieter’s mind longer than he’d like to admit.

They didn’t reconnect until months later when Dieter landed the role of a lifetime in the film adaptation of one of her books. He played the brooding lead, a role he was born to play, and she was on set every day, consulting on the story she knew better than anyone.

“Bravo!” she called out one afternoon, waving the script in the air as he finished a scene. “I think you missed a line, but you definitely nailed the smirk.”

“Missed the line? Nah, I made it better,” Dieter shot back, strutting over with that effortless confidence of his. “Besides, isn’t the lead supposed to be mysterious and broody? I’m just adding layers.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Layers of bullshit, maybe.”

Their banter was easy, and soon, late nights spent in hotel bars became their thing. They’d laugh over terrible room service and even worse dialogue changes, often rewriting entire scenes together between drinks.

“Do you think the audience is gonna buy this twist?” Dieter asked one night, his brow furrowed as he scribbled on a napkin. “It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“It’s a mystery, Bravo. It’s supposed to be dramatic,” she said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “Besides, you’re the one bringing it to life. If anyone can sell it, it’s you.”

Over the years, their friendship grew deeper. Dieter adored her—not just for her talent, but for the way she saw right through him. She didn’t care about the Hollywood persona; she cared about the guy who struggled with his lines, laughed too loudly, and occasionally got lost in his own head. And it was clear to anyone who knew him that she was the only one who truly got him.

“Why do you even stick around?” Dieter asked one night, half-drunk and more vulnerable than he intended. They were sitting on the balcony of some hotel in Vancouver, the city lights flickering below them, empty glasses scattered between them.

She looked over at him, surprised at the question but not at the insecurity behind it. “You’re kidding, right? Who else is gonna put up with my obsessive rewriting of everything?”

Dieter smirked, but the self-deprecation was still there, hovering. “I’m serious, baby. You’ve seen me at my worst. Hell, you’ve probably seen me at my best, and let’s be real, there’s not a whole lot of difference.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was affection in the gesture. “Come on, Dee. You think I don’t know who you are? I’ve watched you screw up a million times and still pull it off somehow. You’re not as hopeless as you think.”

“Yeah, but it’s all smoke and mirrors,” he muttered, leaning back and staring at the city. “I’m just this mess pretending to be a movie star. And people buy it, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the act.”

She leaned closer, her smile gentle but knowing. “You’re not acting, Dee. This is you—chaotic, brilliant, all over the place. And somehow it works. That’s why people love you. It’s why I love you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure, but it’s not exactly the stuff that makes for a stable life. I can’t even commit to a weekly gym routine, let alone… you know, anything permanent.”

“Well, it’s good you know that about yourself,” she said, her tone more serious now. “But just because you’re not ready for all that doesn’t mean you’re a failure. You’ve built this crazy, messy, amazing life, and you’ve done it on your terms.”

Dieter glanced at her, the sincerity in her eyes almost too much to bear. “But it’s still just a mess, right? Like, I don’t know how to be the guy who settles down, who has the white picket fence and the kids. It’s not in me.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make you any less,” she pointed out, nudging his knee with hers. “You’re the guy who shows up when it counts, who makes people laugh when they need it, who cares more than he lets on. And that’s enough, Dee. It really is.”

Dieter stared at her, his expression softening. “You make it sound like I’m not totally screwing everything up.”

“Because you’re not,” she said simply, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “You’re doing what works for you, and that’s more than most people can say. So don’t be so hard on yourself, okay?”

They sat in a comfortable silence, the kind that comes from knowing each other inside and out. Dieter wasn’t sure if he could ever really change, but with her by his side, he felt like maybe he didn’t need to.

The media loved to ask when Dieter Bravo, Hollywood’s lovable mess, was going to settle down. He always laughed it off, brushing it aside with jokes and his trademark self-deprecation. “Settle down?” he’d scoff to reporters, flashing that crooked grin. “Have kids? I can barely take care of myself. I mean, who’s gonna look after the baby when I’m off in Cabo or Amsterdam on a bender?”

He was always open about not wanting to be tied down, convinced that marriage and fatherhood were responsibilities he’d inevitably screw up just like everything else. Deep down, he didn’t think he was cut out for it. Not the commitment, not the kids—none of it. And yet, every time he thought about those nights spent talking with her, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he could be more than the sum of his fears.

The truth was, Dieter loved being around kids, especially when visiting his favorite charities—arts programs, hospitals, anywhere that needed his presence to brighten the day. He had a soft spot for the kids who showed up at his movie premieres with homemade signs and for the shy ones who peeked out from behind their parents at hospital visits, their eyes lighting up at the sight of a real-life movie star. He’d spend hours signing autographs, posing for pictures, and handing out gifts. But wanting that momentary joy and having it every day were two entirely different things, and he didn’t think he was built for the kind of life that meant forever.

Then there was Vegas. It was one of those wild weekends that only Dieter and his friends could pull off, the kind that started with a simple plan and spiraled into chaos before anyone could catch their breath. They were there to celebrate a friend’s birthday—a milestone that felt more like a warning than a celebration to Dieter, who had spent the better part of the year dodging questions about settling down and growing up.

The night was a blur of neon lights, overpriced drinks, and the kind of reckless energy that only Vegas could inspire. Dieter and his best friend were deep into their third round of shots at some tacky but charming casino bar, laughing so hard their sides hurt. The conversation was easy, like it always was, jumping from half-remembered movie quotes to bad relationship stories that only got funnier with every shot.

“Remember when you two were drunk off margaritas and swore you’d get married if you were still single at 35?” one of their friends blurted out, pointing at Dieter and her with a tipsy grin. “Well, look at that—clock’s ticking, you two.”

“Oh please, they’d kill each other in a week,” another friend chimed in, rolling their eyes dramatically. “But hey, at least the headlines would be great.”

Dieter leaned back, smirking. “You think she’d kill me? I’m charming as hell.”

She snorted, leaning in closer to Dieter. “Charming? Sure, Dee, if charming means spilling three drinks and forgetting your lines.”

“Oh, you love it, don’t lie,” Dieter shot back, nudging her shoulder playfully.

Their friends egged them on, throwing out half-baked marriage advice between sips of whatever was in their glasses. “Just make sure you don’t pull a Ross and say the wrong name at the altar,” one joked, and they all burst into laughter, doubling over as the drinks kept flowing.

“Hey, I can pronounce her name just fine,” Dieter retorted, raising his glass to her. “What do you say, baby? You and me, Vegas style.”

“Wel…we’re way past 35 now…” she said, still smiling but now with a hint of mischief, “technically, we missed our window… so might as well make good on that old pact, right?”

Dieter stared at her, the room spinning slightly as he tried to read between the lines. They were supposed to be just friends, right? But it didn’t feel like a joke anymore, not when she looked at him like that. And for once, he didn’t want to think it through. He didn’t want to second-guess it or talk himself out of it like he usually did.

“Fuck it,” Dieter said, grinning wider than he had in months. “Let’s do it. You and me, baby. Let’s get hitched.”

Their friends erupted in cheers, half-shocked, half-encouraging, but it didn’t matter. They were drunk on cheap tequila and the reckless abandon of the Vegas Strip, where anything seemed possible. Before Dieter knew it, they were stumbling into a tacky little chapel off the main drag, the kind with neon hearts and an Elvis impersonator in the back who’d seen one too many late-night weddings.

The ceremony was a blur. Dieter remembered laughing so hard that he nearly dropped the ring—some gaudy, oversized thing they’d bought from a souvenir shop on the way over—and the way she squeezed his hand so tightly he could feel her nerves mixing with his own. There were no big speeches or dramatic declarations of love, just a lot of giggling, whispered jokes, and the kind of easy joy that felt like it belonged to them and them alone.

“Do you, Dieter Bravo, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the Elvis officiant drawled, barely keeping it together.

Dieter glanced at her, still half-expecting her to back out at the last second. But she was looking at him, eyes full of that familiar mix of sarcasm and something deeper that he’d never quite put a name to. “I do,” he said, and for once, it didn’t feel like a lie.

“And do you, sweetheart, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Elvis asked, already cracking a grin.

She squeezed Dieter’s hand, barely containing her laughter. “Hell yeah, I do.”

Elvis squinted, pausing dramatically. “Are you sure? Divorces are expensive. Trust me, I’ve had three.”

Their friends howled from the pews, tossing out quips. “Yeah, blink twice if you need an escape plan!” one of them shouted, while another chimed in, “You’re stuck with him now, good luck!”

Dieter threw his arm around her, laughing so hard his sides hurt. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m the best terrible decision you’ll ever make.”

She leaned in, grinning. “Guess we’re both screwed then.”

They kissed, and it was messy and off-center, but it felt right. It was the kind of kiss that was more about the laughter and less about the perfection of the moment, which was exactly how Dieter liked it. When they pulled apart, he was breathless, and she was glowing in a way that made the whole crazy, impulsive thing feel like the best decision he’d ever made.

They walked out of that chapel with matching rings and a new reality that neither of them fully understood but were more than willing to figure out together. And in true Dieter fashion, they celebrated the only way they knew how—by grabbing greasy burgers at an all-night diner and gambling away the rest of the night like newlyweds who couldn’t care less about what tomorrow would bring.

For once in his life, Dieter didn’t feel like he was running from anything. He was running toward something—toward her—and it felt like the only thing that made sense.

–

The first few months of marriage were an unpredictable whirlwind, much like the wedding itself. There were no grand changes, no dramatic shifts—just more of the same easy companionship they’d always had, now with the added humor of “Mrs. Bravo” peppered into their banter. They spent mornings in Dieter’s cluttered kitchen, arguing over the best way to make coffee while stumbling over each other in pajamas that never quite matched. Evenings were spent curled up on the couch, watching bad movies and stealing kisses during the credits like lovesick teenagers.

Their friends couldn’t get enough of it, either. The tabloids had gone wild over the news—Dieter Bravo, Hollywood’s most notorious bachelor, suddenly married to his long-time friend in a drunken Vegas escapade. Headlines like “Bravo’s Big Gamble” and “Hollywood’s Wildest Newlyweds” splashed across every gossip rag in the country. But Dieter and his wife took it in stride, shrugging off the noise and focusing on what actually mattered: them.

His family had been just as surprised but in the best way. They had welcomed her with open arms from the very first time she and Dieter had visited together. His mom had pulled her into a tight hug at the door, immediately peppering her with questions about her books and telling her how she had a shelf dedicated to them in the living room. Dieter’s siblings loved her, too—his sister often roping her into baking sessions in the kitchen, laughing over old stories about Dieter’s childhood antics that usually ended with him covered in mud or glitter or some combination of both.

It wasn’t long before she became a staple in their family gatherings, fitting in as if she’d always been there. Sunday dinners at the Bravo house turned into her favorite ritual. She’d help Dieter’s mom in the kitchen, rolling out dough for pies while swapping recipes and stories. Dieter’s nieces and nephews adored her, crowding around to hear tales of mystery and adventure, eyes wide as she brought her characters to life with every word.

“Can you tell us the one about the detective who finds the secret tunnel again?” one of his nephews had asked during Thanksgiving, tugging at her sleeve.

She smiled, glancing at Dieter, who was sitting at the head of the table, grinning like an idiot. “Only if you promise to help me figure out what’s at the end of it,” she teased, ruffling his hair.

His father, a retired fertility expert who had always been the more reserved member of the family, quickly warmed up to her, too. They’d sit on the porch during long afternoons, sipping coffee and talking about life, books, and the occasional scientific trivia that she found endlessly fascinating. He appreciated her wit, her genuine interest in everyone around her, and the way she always seemed to make his son smile.

As the year rolled by, the Bravo family embraced her more and more, and she felt a sense of belonging she hadn’t expected. She was no longer just Dieter’s wife; she was a daughter-in-law, a sister, and an aunt. She was family.

So when Christmas rolled around again, she was eager to be back at the Bravo household, despite feeling under the weather. She’d been sick for nearly two weeks, and Dieter had been worried. She barely ate, surviving mostly on pesto chicken paninis and iced coffee—the only things she could keep down. Still, she was excited to see his family, to bask in the warmth of his mother’s home-cooked meals and his sister-in-law’s desserts. She was looking forward to being surrounded by people who loved her as much as she loved them.

The moment they stepped through the front door, Dieter’s mom engulfed her in a hug, commenting on how thin she looked, and his sister immediately dragged her into the kitchen, insisting on making her favorite cookies. Dieter watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame with a smile. She fit here—so naturally, so effortlessly—that it almost made him forget how odd it all still felt to be someone’s husband. But then she’d look at him across the room, with that same smile she’d had since the bar in Vegas, and it felt right.

But as they settled into the cozy familiarity of his childhood home, Dieter’s father began to notice something. It wasn’t just that she looked tired—there was something else. A subtle glow to her skin, the way her eyes would soften when she looked at Dieter, the quiet but unmistakable aversions to certain foods she normally loved. When she grimaced at the sight of his wife’s famous lasagna and instead picked at a simple salad, he raised an eyebrow. He had seen it before, four times with his own wife, and the theory formed in his mind almost instantly.

It was the little things: how she leaned into Dieter when she thought no one was looking, resting her head on his shoulder like she couldn’t quite keep herself upright; the way her laughter was softer, tinged with something almost nervous. She hadn’t touched a drop of wine the entire evening, claiming she wasn’t in the mood, which was unlike her—especially when Dieter’s mom brought out her favorite bottle from the cellar.

Dieter’s dad observed quietly, piecing together the signs with a mix of curiosity and growing certainty. He knew better than to jump to conclusions, but every instinct told him that there was more to her recent sickness than a simple bug.

–

Later that evening, after dinner, Dieter and his father found themselves outside on the patio. The chill in the air was biting, and Dieter’s breath formed little puffs of smoke as he lit a cigarette, the faint glow of the ember flickering in the dark. He offered one to his dad, who simply shook his head, declining as usual. They settled into an easy silence, the kind that came from years of shared moments like these, watching the yard stretch out before them, dotted with twinkling Christmas lights that cast a warm, festive glow over the familiar landscape.

Dieter took a long drag, savoring the brief buzz of nicotine, and leaned back in his chair. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that always made him think too much, but tonight he welcomed it. He glanced sideways at his dad, whose face was half-lit by the soft glow of the porch light, lost in thought as he nursed his coffee.

“You know, son,” his father said finally, breaking the silence, “I couldn’t help but notice something about her tonight.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Yeah? Like what?”

His father hesitated, his expression thoughtful as he swirled the coffee in his mug. “She’s been feeling under the weather, hasn’t she? Seems a bit off.”

Dieter nodded, taking another drag and blowing out the smoke in a slow stream. “Yeah, she’s been sick for a couple of weeks. Picky about food, which isn’t like her. She’s basically living on those pesto chicken paninis. She can’t keep much else down.”

His father chuckled softly, the sound low and knowing, like he was recalling something long ago. “Huh. That’s interesting. Reminds me of your mom back in the day.”

Dieter frowned, glancing over at him. “What do you mean?”

There was a pause, and his father’s eyes stayed fixed on the yard, lost in a memory that Dieter couldn’t quite place. Finally, he spoke, his tone careful, almost gentle. “Have you considered she might be pregnant?”

Dieter’s reaction was instant—he snorted, nearly choking on his cigarette smoke as he laughed it off, but the sound was more nervous than amused. “Pregnant? Nah, no way. She’s got an IUD. Besides, we’ve been careful.”

His father smiled, but it wasn’t condescending. It was the kind of smile that spoke of experience, of having lived through more than one surprise in his lifetime. “IUDs aren’t foolproof, son. Nothing is. And I’ve seen those signs before. Aversions, fatigue, the way she looked at food tonight… I saw it with your mother every time she was pregnant.”

Dieter’s laugh faded, replaced by an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the ends as his mind raced. “You’re serious?”

“Look, I’m not saying she is,” his father said, raising his hands in a small gesture of surrender. “But I’ve been around this long enough to know the signs when I see them. I’m just saying, it’s possible.”

Dieter stared out at the yard, the once comforting sight now blurred by the thoughts colliding in his mind. He tried to dismiss it, to chalk it up to his dad’s habit of overanalyzing things. But suddenly, every little moment from the past few weeks replayed in his head like a reel he couldn’t pause: the way she’d cried over soup earlier that evening, overwhelmed by finally finding something she could eat; the quiet, tired smiles; the sudden need to rest her head on his shoulder whenever she got the chance. Dieter had brushed it off as just a rough patch—nothing serious, nothing that couldn’t be fixed with rest and time.

But now, hearing his father say it out loud, it all started to click. The missed meals, the strange cravings, her emotional reactions to things that normally wouldn’t faze her. It was like putting together a puzzle he didn’t even know he was working on.

“What do I do if you’re right?” Dieter finally asked, his voice low, tinged with a mix of fear and something else he couldn’t quite name.

His father took another sip of his coffee, considering his son carefully. “You talk to her. Find out for sure. And whatever the outcome, you handle it together. That’s what this is, Dieter. Marriage, family—it's not about knowing every answer. It’s about facing it together, no matter how unexpected it is.”

Dieter nodded, though his mind was still reeling. He didn’t know if he was ready for what his father was suggesting, but one thing was clear: he needed to talk to her. His dad’s words hung heavy in the cold night air, and suddenly, the easygoing world Dieter had grown comfortable in felt a little less certain. 

–

That night, back in their room at Dieter’s parents’ house, the tension lingered like a thick fog. They were staying for the weekend, and though the familiarity of the guest room usually felt comforting, tonight it felt like the walls were closing in. Dieter sprawled out on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV without really watching. His mind was a mess of half-formed thoughts, circling back to the conversation with his father, and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at him.

She was curled up next to him, absorbed in her Kindle, but every so often, Dieter noticed her shifting slightly, like she couldn’t quite get comfortable. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, trying to figure out how to bring up what was weighing on him without sounding like he’d lost his mind.

“So, funny story,” Dieter started, forcing a lightness into his tone that he didn’t feel. “My dad has this theory. He thinks you might be pregnant.”

She looked up from her Kindle, her brow furrowing as she processed his words. “What? Where’d that come from?”

“Yeah, I know,” Dieter laughed, though it sounded more nervous than amused. He fidgeted with the remote, clicking through channels too fast to see what was on. “He’s been watching you tonight, noticing stuff. You know, the food aversions and all that. He said something about it reminding him of when my mom was pregnant.”

She blinked, staring at him like she wasn’t sure if he was joking or serious. “That’s… random. I mean, it’s just paninis and iced coffee. And I’ve been stressed, that’s all. I mean, I have an IUD.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told him,” Dieter said, shrugging. “I told him it’s not possible, right? But he kept going on about how those things aren’t foolproof and—”

She cut him off, her laugh sharp and a little shaky. “No, yeah, of course. It’s just… I mean, we’ve been careful. I thought…”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his lips. “Careful? Are we really?” He gave her a knowing look, recalling their many reckless moments. “I mean, I lost count of the times we said, ‘eh, what’s the worst that could happen?’”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands, but she couldn’t hide the grin peeking through. “Oh God, don’t remind me. You said it’d be fine because ‘science, baby!’”

“Yeah, classic me,” Dieter laughed, feeling the tension break just a little. “Maybe our ‘science’ needs some workshopping.”

They chuckled, genuinely amused by their own recklessness. For a moment, it felt like any other night, just the two of them joking around like they always did. But then the laughter faded, and the unspoken possibility lingered, nudging at the back of their minds.

Dieter hesitated, then set the remote down, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “IUDs aren’t a hundred percent, you know.”

She didn’t say anything right away, her eyes locked on him as if searching for some reassurance he couldn’t quite give. Finally, she set her Kindle aside, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Do you think… do you think he’s right?”

The question hung in the air, too big to ignore, and neither of them moved. Dieter rubbed the back of his neck, his mind racing. “I don’t know, baby. But we could… find out.”

She nodded, her breath hitching slightly, and they didn’t wait to talk themselves out of it. The drive to the pharmacy was tense and quiet, but the nervous energy turned into something almost comical when they got inside. Dieter, trying to look inconspicuous in his cap and mask, accidentally grabbed a COVID test from the shelf and tossed it in the basket without looking.

She glanced at it, biting back a laugh. “Dee, unless you’re worried I’ve got a pandemic brewing, I think you grabbed the wrong kind of test.”

“What?” He squinted at the box, his eyes widening. “Oh, shit. I just saw ‘test’ and panicked. Could you imagine? ‘Congratulations, you’re… COVID positive!’”

They both snorted, trying to suppress their laughter as they swapped it out for a pile of pregnancy tests. “At least we’re wearing masks,” she quipped, trying to hide her nerves behind the humor.

Dieter nodded, their masks pulling at their grins as they paid quickly and slipped back out into the night. Back in their room, she took the tests into Dieter’s private bathroom, thankful she didn’t have to make the awkward walk down the hallway past his nephews, who were still glued to the PlayStation. Dieter paced the room, his anxiety growing with every passing second. He could hear the faint sounds of her moving in the bathroom—running water, the crinkle of plastic, the sound of her soft sighs—and each noise sent a jolt of unease through him.

He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even more, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. What if his dad was right? What if they were really about to become parents? He didn’t know how to do this—any of it. He wasn’t cut out to be a dad. Hell, he could barely take care of himself most days. But then he thought about her, about the way she used to talk about wanting a family, back in the early days of their friendship, years before they got married. She’d share those dreams in the quiet moments when they were lying in bed, late at night, her voice soft and wistful as she painted a picture of a life she wanted someday—one with kids, a messy house full of love, and mornings that started with chaos and ended with bedtime stories.

He hadn’t heard her talk about it in a long time, not since they’d crossed the line from best friends to whatever it was they’d become now. They hadn’t really discussed it after they got married, like the possibility had just been a footnote in their drunken Vegas vows, not something real. But Dieter knew she probably still wanted it, that deep down, those dreams hadn’t gone away, just tucked themselves into a quieter part of her heart.

And now, for the first time, Dieter let himself admit what he’d been denying all along—he wanted it, too. He tried to fight it, tried to tell himself he was still the same guy who didn’t want to be tied down, but the truth was, he’d settled down the moment he said “I do.” And now… he’s sure he’s ready to dream of that life, too. The one where they weren’t just figuring things out as they went but actually working towards something together, as husband and wife, as mom and dad.

Finally, the bathroom door creaked open, and she stepped out, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly. She didn’t have to say anything; Dieter could see the truth in her eyes. Without a word, he followed her into the bathroom, and there they were, lined up on the counter: five pregnancy tests, each one showing two clear lines.

Positive. All of them.

Dieter stared at the tests, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something, anything, to say. He could hear her breathing beside him, shallow and uneven, and he knew her heart was pounding just as hard as his. She swallowed, her eyes fixed on the tests as if they might change if she stared long enough.

She finally broke the silence, her voice small but steady. “It’s okay, Dieter. You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll… I’ll take care of it.”

–

Her words snapped Dieter back to reality, his brows furrowing as he tried to grasp what she meant. He watched her walk past him out of the bathroom, her movements brisk and determined, but there was a tremble in her step that made his stomach drop. She went straight to the dresser, grabbing her phone with a familiar sense of purpose. Dieter followed, his confusion mounting as she dialed a number with shaky hands.

“What are you doing?” Dieter asked, his voice edged with growing alarm. “Who are you calling in the middle of the night?”

She glanced at him but didn’t answer directly. “It’s fine, Dee. I’m going to take care of it.”

The line clicked, and a familiar voice filled the silence—one of her friends, an OB-GYN Dieter had met several times at dinner parties and gatherings. “Hey, I’m sorry to call so late,” she said into the phone, her voice tight but controlled. “I need another favor.”

Dieter’s heart sank as he heard the gasp on the other end. The doctor’s voice wavered, filled with concern. “Are you sure? I mean… are you really sure about this?”

Dieter watched her, still trying to catch up, but he could hear the tension in the doctor’s voice and the weight of what was being asked. She glanced at him, her eyes meeting his, and in that moment, Dieter felt like the ground was slipping out from under him. “I’m sure,” she said quietly. “I’ll wait for the prescription in the morning.”

She ended the call and set the phone down, her hand trembling. Dieter felt his shock morphing into a hot, simmering anger, his chest tightening as he tried to make sense of what he’d just heard. “What?” he asked, his voice rising, desperate to believe he’d misheard. “What prescription? Prenatal vitamins?” He was trying to hold onto some hope, clinging to the possibility that this wasn’t what it seemed, that she wasn’t about to make a decision without him. But deep down, he knew.

She sighed, biting her lower lip, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in her throat. Dieter could see her knees wobble, and before he could process it, she was leaning against the side table, her legs barely holding her up. He rushed to her, guiding her gently to the bed and kneeling before her, his anger wavering as he saw the look in her eyes.

Tears streamed down her face, silent and relentless, and Dieter realized it was the first time he’d seen her cry in years. Not since her father had passed, not even when she’d broken up with someone he knew she had loved deeply. She was always so strong, so composed, but now she was trembling, and all she could manage were soft, broken apologies. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she repeated it over and over. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Dieter’s anger melted away, replaced by a sharp pain that pierced his chest. He reached up, cupping her face gently, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “Hey, hey, calm down, okay? Just… baby, please… can you tell me what that was all about?”

She nodded, her breath hitching as she tried to collect herself. The silence between them was tense, heavy with unspoken fears and the weight of what was happening. Finally, she spoke, her voice small and wavering. “I know you don’t want kids, Dieter. I’ve known that from the start, and I respect that. I love you so much, and I know I don’t say it often, but I do. I love the life we have together. And I didn’t… I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Dieter listened, the words sinking in, but every syllable felt like a sting. “You’re not ruining anything, baby,” he said, his voice softer now but still edged with confusion and hurt. “But you didn’t even… I mean, we didn’t even talk about it.”

She looked down, her tears falling faster now. “I was afraid to. You’ve always been so clear, and I didn’t want to make you feel trapped. I know kids were never part of the plan. I didn’t want to put that on you.”

Dieter took a deep breath, his mind still reeling, but he tried to keep his voice steady. “You’re not–Jesus…I understand why you feel this way baby…” he said gently, squeezing her hands. “And I’m sorry we never talked about it before, not even once. I know I said I didn’t want kids, and I thought that was it. But… then…” He sighed deeply… “W-we should at least talk about it before you go and get that prescription in the morning.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glistening with tears, clearly caught between fear and guilt. “Dieter, I—”

“No, listen,” he interrupted softly, his tone calm but firm. “I want you to know that whatever you decide, I’ll support you. I’ll stand by you no matter what. But I need to know that if you go through with this, it’s because you want to, not because you think it’s what I want. I respect you, and I love you. And yeah, maybe I’ve always been afraid of having kids, but I also know you’ve wanted this. I’ve known for years, and I’m sorry we’ve never talked about it since getting married. But maybe… maybe now’s the time we should.”

She shook her head, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. “I don’t want to pop our bubble, Dieter. I’ve spent so long thinking that if I brought this up, it would be too much for you. You’ve said it before—kids are overwhelming, right? And I get it. Hell, the thought of it overwhelms me, too. But it’s different for you. I didn’t want to lose you. I love you so much, Dee. I love what we have. And I was scared that… that if I bring it up, it would drive you away.”

Dieter’s heart ached as he watched her, the weight of her words sinking in. “Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “But you can’t just… handle this alone. Not for me.”

She took a shaky breath, the truth finally spilling out in the soft, halting words she’d kept buried. “That’s why I got the IUD. A few months after we got married… after I found out I was pregnant. You were away in London for that shoot, and I was alone. And I—” She paused, choking back a sob as she struggled to get the words out. “I panicked. I was terrified of what it would mean for us, for you, for everything. So, I… I took care of it. I didn’t want to burden you with it, and I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Dieter’s face went pale, his expression shifting from shock to something more profound—hurt, confusion, and an aching sadness that he didn’t quite know how to process. His hold on her hands went slack. He hadn’t been there. He hadn’t known. While he was away, filming scenes and living the life he thought he wanted, she had been here, facing a reality that should have been theirs to share.

“You—” Dieter started, standing up, trying to say something but the words caught in his throat. “You did that… without telling me?”

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Dee. You were gone, and I was scared. I didn’t want you to feel trapped or forced into something you never wanted. I thought it was better that way.”

Dieter’s mind raced as he tried to grasp what she was saying. He ran a hand down his face, cupping his mouth as he took in a long drag of air. The anger he’d felt earlier had melted into something more painful, something that cut deeper than he expected. He’d never wanted this, but now, faced with the reality that they’d lost something before it had even begun, Dieter felt a profound sense of grief for what could have been—and for what he still had a chance to fight for.

He swallowed hard, his voice breaking as he spoke. “I wish you’d told me. I wish you hadn’t gone through all that alone. I know I’m not perfect, and I know I’ve said a lot of shit about not wanting kids, but… I want you. And if you want this—if you want us to have this—then I want it, too. But you have to be sure. This isn’t just about me. It’s us, and we can’t keep pretending it’s not.”

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all she saw was the man who had always been there, even when they hadn’t known what the hell they were doing. Dieter knelt before her, his hands steady on her knees, offering her the quiet reassurance she’d been afraid to ask for. They were scared, both of them, but for the first time, it felt like they were scared together.

A heavy silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. She stared down at her trembling hands, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Finally, she broke the quiet, her voice small and cracking under the strain. “I understand if you want a divorce, Dieter.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks again, and she looked up at him, and he could feel and see the pain and resignation in them. “I’d give it to you, you know. If that’s what it takes for you to live your truth. If it means you get to live the life you always wanted—not something complicated by a kid and a wife.”

Dieter’s breath caught in his throat, and he shook his head, trying to grasp the gravity of what she was saying. “What? No… what are you talking about? Divorce? That’s not—”

“I don’t want to trap you, Dee,” she interrupted, her voice quivering. “I never wanted you to feel stuck. At least if we divorce, I get to keep my baby, and you get to live your life. We both get what we want.” She said it with a heartbreaking kind of finality, her gaze dropping as though she couldn’t bear to look at him.

Hearing her say “her baby” like that shattered something inside Dieter. He could feel his chest tighten as his emotions boiled over, hot tears streaming down his face. “You think that’s what I want?” he whispered, his voice breaking as he tried to keep it down. They were still in his parents’ house, and he didn’t want anyone hearing this, but he couldn’t keep the hurt out of his words. “You think I want to live some half-assed life without you? Without… our baby?”

She flinched at his words, torn between the guilt and the love she still felt for him. “Dieter, you’ve always said—”

“I know what I’ve said!” Dieter snapped, his voice rising before he caught himself. He pressed a fist to his mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to break free. “God, I’ve been so fucked up. So caught up in what I thought I wanted, what I told everyone I didn’t want. I never… I never told you how much I love you. How much I need you. And now you’re willing to sacrifice everything because of me? Because I’m too much of a mess to communicate? That’s not fair, baby. That’s on me.”

She looked away, blinking back tears as she tried to keep her voice steady. “It’s not about blame, Dieter. I can’t live with the guilt of not giving you the chance to have the life you deserve. I’d rather… I’d rather set you free than see you stuck in something you don’t want. I love you too much for that.”

Dieter shook his head, his shoulders slumping as the enormity of her words hit him. He didn’t know how to make her understand. “But I don’t want to be free,” he said, almost pleading. “I don’t want any of this without you. I’ve spent my whole life running from everything—commitment, responsibility, you name it. But not you. Not us. You… you made me realize I could be more than that.”

She listened, her heart breaking with every word. “I don’t want to be unfair, Dee. I’ve spent so long dreaming about this—about being a mom. And I know kids were never part of your dream, and I just… I don’t want to take that from you.”

Dieter wiped his eyes, his voice hoarse and desperate. “You’re not taking anything from me. Please, don’t do this. Don’t make decisions for me. You’ve always been my partner, my equal… baby, you make me want to be a better person… whatever the hell that looks like…”

She let out a shaky laugh through her tears, reaching up to cup his face. “I just… I didn’t want to pop our bubble. It’s been so perfect, even with all the chaos. And the thought of losing that, of losing you in such a way… it scares me more than anything.”

Dieter’s sobs turned to quiet laughter, a broken sound that mirrored the bittersweetness of the moment. “You think I’m not scared? I’ve been scared of fucking everything my whole life, and you were the one person who made me think I didn’t have to be. You’re my team, baby. We’re a damn good one. And I know that if we have this kid… our kid… we’d be amazing parents, too.”

She looked at him, her tears finally slowing, replaced by a fragile smile that made Dieter’s heartache. “I just don’t want to be unfair,” she whispered, her voice soft but sincere.

“You’re not being unfair,” Dieter said, his tone tender but firm. “Please, just… reconsider. Our relationship, our marriage… our baby. Let’s figure it out together. No more guessing what the other person wants.”

She nodded, her eyes locking with his, and for the first time since the night had started, she felt a glimmer of hope. They were both terrified, still reeling from everything that had come to light, but at least now, they were facing it together, no more secrets, no more hiding. Just the two of them and the uncertain but hopeful future with a baby they were ready to build.

–

The next morning was Christmas, and despite the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded the night before, Dieter and his wife had decided to keep their news to themselves for now. It was too early—too new, too precious, and far too complicated to try to explain just yet. They put on their best smiles, exchanged gifts with his family, and managed to get through the morning without giving anything away.

As soon as they left his parents’ house, they headed straight to her OB-GYN’s office. Dieter squeezed her hand in the waiting room, both of them tense but trying to stay calm. When the doctor finally confirmed the news—they were eight weeks along—it felt both real and surreal at the same time. They were both relieved and overwhelmed, knowing it was still too early to tell anyone, too early for announcements, but their hearts were already full of the possibility.

Back at their house, Dieter immediately started making little changes, moving things around and insisting on turning one of the guest rooms into a nursery. “This room gets the best light,” he said, gesturing animatedly as they stood in the empty space, still filled with random furniture and boxes they hadn’t sorted through. “We can do a crib over here, maybe a rocking chair by the window… Oh, and I saw this thing on Pinterest—don’t laugh—about these little wall decals, like stars and moons. We could do a whole sky theme.”

She watched him, leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t even know you had a Pinterest account.”

Dieter turned, shrugging sheepishly. “What? I like my aesthetics.”

She laughed, her heart swelling at the sight of him so invested. It was like watching a kid with a new project, and she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. “You’re really into this, huh?”

He looked at her, eyes sparkling with an excitement that was infectious. “Yeah, I am. What’s so funny?”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Nothing, it’s just… I never thought I’d see the day when Dieter Bravo is this excited about becoming a dad.”

Dieter’s expression softened, and he crossed the room, wrapping his arms around her. “Well, get used to it, baby. I’m all in.”

As the days passed, they began to settle into this new phase of their life together, their once spontaneous and free-spirited existence slowly evolving without them even realizing it. They had always been people of the moment, living day to day with little thought of what came next. Before, their conversations rarely drifted beyond the present—they were about last-minute weekend trips, late-night takeout, or whatever wild idea Dieter would come up with next. The future was never really on the table, not in a serious way. They thrived on spontaneity, on the freedom of not being tied down by plans or expectations.

But now, there was a subtle but undeniable shift in the air between them. It wasn’t something they talked about directly, but rather something that quietly settled in, like a warm, comforting blanket. Their conversations began to naturally drift into what was coming, not just what was happening now. They found themselves talking about baby names over breakfast, Dieter suggesting offbeat, quirky names that made her laugh while she countered with more classic choices that she’d always dreamed of, being the writer that she is and her love for literature.

Dieter would randomly pull out his phone to show her baby gear he’d found online, everything from the practical to the absurdly adorable. “Look at this stroller, baby. It’s got all-terrain wheels! Imagine us taking the kid hiking. Okay, maybe not hiking, but, you know… walking down a slightly uneven sidewalk.”

She’d laugh, watching him with a kind of fondness that was new, soft, and overwhelming. She’d catch him in the nursery sometimes, hunched over with a tape measure, making notes and sketches of where things should go. He was planning—actually planning—and it warmed her in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

One afternoon, she found him kneeling on the floor, surrounded by paint samples and wallpaper swatches, muttering to himself about whether to go with the pale blue or the pastel purple. “I don’t know, do you think clouds are too cliché? What if we did something more abstract? Like a sky, but, like, artsy. You know, like, dreamland stuff.”

She leaned against the doorframe, a smile playing at her lips. “Dieter Bravo, debating interior design for a nursery. Who would’ve thought?”

He looked up, his grin boyish and bright. “I know, right? Next, I’ll be on HGTV. ‘Bravo’s Baby Rooms.’ It’ll be a hit.”

She rolled her eyes, but her heart swelled with something deeper. They were still them, still the same pair who’d decided to get married on a whim in Vegas, who’d spent years living in the moment and rarely looking ahead. But now, the future wasn’t something scary or overwhelming. It was something they were building together, brick by brick, conversation by conversation.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments, she would find herself lying awake at night, her hand resting on the small swell of her belly, feeling the gentle flutters of life within her. Dieter would be next to her, snoring softly, and she’d just listen, soaking in the warmth of their home. She realized then how much had changed between them—how they’d gone from two people floating through life, clinging to the present, to a couple that was starting to dream together. 

It wasn’t just about the baby, though that was the catalyst. It was the way their whole world had shifted, gently guiding them toward a future that felt bright and full of possibility.

Their once spontaneous, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants relationship was evolving into something richer, something that made space for plans and hopes. She’d catch Dieter browsing parenting books or obsessively researching the best baby monitors, and each time, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of love she hadn’t quite known before.

It wasn’t forced or awkward; it was the most natural thing in the world, like breathing. They were still the same Dieter and his wife, the quirky mystery novel writer—impulsive, playful, unorthodox in every way—but now, their lives together carried an undercurrent of something… warmer, softer, and a little more planned than usual. 

One evening, she was curled up on the couch, cozy under a thick, soft blanket, her Kindle in one hand and the other resting gently on the small but noticeable bump of her belly. She’d grown accustomed to the comforting weight of her growing child. Dieter strolled in from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of popcorn, and dropped onto the couch beside her with a contented sigh.

“You look way too comfortable,” she teased, nudging him playfully with her foot, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched him sink into the cushions like he belonged there.

“I am,” Dieter said, settling in beside her and resting his head against her shoulder. He let out a contented sigh, his eyes drifting down to her bump, and his hand found hers, resting warmly over the swell of her belly. “I love this. I love everything about this.”

She chuckled, her fingers absentmindedly tracing soft circles on her belly, feeling the little flutters of movement beneath her skin. “You always loved kids, Dee. I know that. I just… I never thought I’d live to see the day when you’d actually be a dad.”

Dieter’s smile softened, and tears welled in his eyes as he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face into her chest. She could feel the quiet, vulnerable sobs shaking his shoulders, and it melted her heart. “You’re making my deepest, darkest dreams come true, baby,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her warmth, words spilling out with raw sincerity.

She laughed, tilting her head back as she ruffled his hair affectionately. “I thought your deepest, darkest dreams that I made come true involved a strap-on, Bravo.”

Dieter snorted, lifting his head just enough to flash her a cheeky grin. Without missing a beat, he buried his face into her chest, playfully motorboating her. She squealed, swatting at his head as they both dissolved into laughter, tangled together on the couch.

“God, you’re such a perv,” she giggled, half-heartedly pushing him away even though she was laughing too hard to mean it.

He finally pulled back, grinning unapologetically as he reached up and cupped one of her breasts, squeezing playfully. “Honk honk,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but unable to keep a straight face. “Dieter, you’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he said, still chuckling as he leaned in to kiss her softly. 

“I love you, mama.” He whispered against her mouth. 

–

As days turned into weeks, they found themselves back at the doctor’s office for the 20-week scan. The drive there was tense, filled with nervous silence and half-hearted attempts at small talk that did little to mask their growing anxiety. Dieter’s usually easygoing demeanor was replaced with restless energy, and she could feel it radiating off him as they sat in the waiting room, both of them on edge.

She sat nervously beside him, her leg bouncing up and down as she stared at the outdated magazines scattered on the table in front of them. Dieter glanced over, noticing the jittery movement. He nudged her lightly with his elbow, offering a crooked smile. “Babe, you’re bouncing your leg like you’re tweaking. Seriously, I’ve been around a lot of meth heads, and you’re giving me flashbacks.”

She snorted, covering her mouth as a burst of laughter escaped, her nerves momentarily easing. “I can’t help it, okay? This is… I’m freaking out.”

Dieter reached over, his fingers lacing through hers as he squeezed gently. “I get it, but you gotta chill. You’re acting like you’re on something, and trust me, I know that vibe.” He gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. “You’ve gotta stop reading all those Reddit posts. They’re nothing but horror stories.”

She nodded, though she still looked pale, her eyes flicking around the room as if searching for something to distract herself. “I know, I just… I can’t help it. I’ve read too many stories about 20-week scans going wrong. What if something’s wrong, Dieter? I don’t think I can handle it.”

Dieter leaned in closer, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Hey, nothing’s wrong. Our kid’s strong. Just like you. Baby’s gonna be fine, okay? Let’s just breathe.”

They were finally called into the scan room, and the doctor greeted them with a warm smile, chatting casually as she prepared the machine. “How are we feeling today? Ready to see this little one?” she asked, her voice calm and reassuring as she applied the cool gel to her belly. Dieter stood by her side, holding her hand tightly, both of them staring at the monitor with bated breath.

The doctor moved the wand over her stomach, her brows knitting slightly as she searched the screen, waiting for a heartbeat. At first, there was nothing—just static silence, the absence of that familiar, rhythmic thump that they both so desperately wanted to hear. The doctor adjusted the wand, repositioning and angling it slightly, her expression remaining neutral but focused.

Dieter could feel his wife’s grip tighten, her fingers digging into his, and he squeezed back, his own heart pounding. “Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with fear.

The doctor glanced at them, her smile reassuring but a little strained. “Sometimes the baby’s in a tricky position so it’s hard to get the heartbeat. Let’s just give it a moment.” She moved the wand again, her eyes flicking between the screen and her belly as she pressed a bit harder, trying to get a better view.

But the silence lingered, and the tension in the room grew thicker. Dieter could feel his pulse racing, his mind going a mile a minute. He tried to keep calm, tried to joke, but his voice came out strained. 

“Kid’s already messing with us, huh? Definitely takes after me.”

It falls flat, and he frowns deeper. 

The doctor’s brows furrowed as she moved the wand slowly, deliberately, the silence stretching on until it was almost unbearable. “Come on, little one,” she murmured under her breath, adjusting the machine again.

She glanced at Dieter and his wife, reading the fear on their faces. “I know it’s nerve-wracking, but try not to panic. This happens sometimes.” The words were meant to soothe, but each passing second felt like an eternity, and Dieter felt like the walls were closing in.

Suddenly, the doctor paused, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh—hold on. I think I forgot to turn on the sound.” She reached over and pressed a button on the machine, and instantly, the room filled with the steady, reassuring thump of their baby’s heartbeat, clear and strong.

Dieter and his wife both let out a collective sigh of relief, laughing shakily as the tension broke. “Oh my god,” she breathed, her head falling back against the table as she squeezed Dieter’s hand. “You just shaved ten years off my life.”

The doctor chuckled, her face apologetic. “I’m so sorry about that. It happens more often than you’d think.” She moved the wand slightly, showing them their baby on the screen. “There we go. Heartbeat is strong, and baby looks perfect.”

Dieter let out a shaky laugh, wiping at his eyes as he glanced at his wife. “Kid’s already got us on edge. I guess that’s just payback for all the years I’ve been a handful.”

They all shared a brief, much-needed laugh, the tension slowly melting away. But the doctor’s expression turned a bit more serious as she continued to move the wand, examining the screen with careful precision. She began marking key areas on the screen, capturing images and making notes as she went. “Now, remember, this is your 20-week scan,” she said, her tone gentle but factual. “This is an important one because it’s when we check for congenital anomalies. We’ll be looking closely at your baby’s organs and development to make sure everything is on track.”

Dieter and his wife nodded, their earlier relief tempered by the weight of what the doctor was saying. This wasn’t just about hearing the heartbeat; it was about seeing if their baby was healthy, if everything was developing the way it should. The room fell quiet again, the soft whir of the machine the only sound as the doctor carefully scanned each part of their baby’s tiny body, capturing and saving images to review.

“We’re looking at the brain and skull,” the doctor explained, pointing to the image on the screen as she took a snapshot. “The structures look well-formed, and everything is measuring normally.” She moved the wand again, pausing over the baby’s chest and marking the image. “And here’s the heart. We’re checking for proper function, looking at the chambers and blood flow. So far, everything looks great.”

Dieter squeezed his wife’s hand, the feeling of both awe and anxiety filling the cavity of his chest. Every tiny movement on the screen felt monumental, every word from the doctor a lifeline. The doctor continued, showing them the spine, the kidneys, the limbs—every detail scrutinized with care and captured for documentation.

“And here’s the stomach and the diaphragm. We’re looking for normal positioning and function,” she said, moving methodically, her voice steady and calm. “All good signs here.” She took another image, marking it on the screen with a series of measurements.

Dieter’s wife squeezed his hand, her eyes locked on the screen, watching their baby’s tiny fingers flex and curl. “Is that… is that the baby’s hand?” she asked, her voice soft, filled with wonder.

“Yes, it is,” the doctor smiled, zooming in on the tiny hand and capturing the image. “Five fingers, all accounted for.”

They watched in silence, their emotions swinging from relief to fear and back again with every scan of the baby’s developing organs. The doctor’s voice was steady, reassuring them as she checked for any signs of congenital anomalies. Each confirmation that everything was normal felt like a small victory, a breath they didn’t realize they were holding.

“Everything looks normal and healthy,” the doctor finally said, pulling back and saving the last image. “Your baby is developing beautifully.”

Dieter and his wife both let out breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding, their hands still clasped tightly together. It wasn’t just relief—it was gratitude, to the doctor and the universe, for keeping their little bun healthy. 

They thanked the doctor, their voices filled with a concoction of relief, exhaustion, and overwhelming joy. As they left the office, they felt lighter, buoyed by the knowledge that their baby was safe and thriving. There’s only one thing for them to do now: start telling their family and friends. 

–

“You okay?” Dieter asked, his voice gentle as they pulled into his parents’ driveway. The house looked warm and welcoming, draped in fairy lights that twinkled against the evening sky, but she couldn’t quite shake the tightness in her chest.

She nodded, but it was automatic, her mind racing with thoughts she hadn’t fully processed, and her tears just started spilling like clockwork. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… it’s a lot, you know? Your parents are going to be so happy, and I—I don’t have that anymore. I don’t have anyone to tell.” She tried to laugh it off, her voice catching slightly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “God, listen to me. I’m such a mess. It’s probably just hormones.”

Dieter squeezed her hand, his expression softening. He knew how much she missed her dad, how his absence lingered in moments like these. “It’s not just hormones, baby,” he said gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You’re allowed to feel this. I wish your dad was here, too. I think about it all the time—how proud he’d be, how he’d probably be spoiling you right now.”

She let out a shaky breath, “It’s stupid, but it just hit me today, you know? Like, he was the only family I had, and now… I guess I thought I was past all this. But it’s different now. This is so big, and I feel like I’m missing that piece.”

Dieter pulled her hand up, kissing her knuckles softly. “It’s not stupid. And you’re not without parents completely. My parents love you—hell, they might love you more than they love me. They text you more than they text me, anyway.”

She let out a laugh, and it felt good, a brief moment of lightness breaking through the weight in her chest. “They do, don’t they? They’re always sending me recipes, cute cat and dog vides, and asking for book recommendations. Meanwhile, you get the ‘how’s your liver?’ texts.”

Dieter grinned, happy to see her smile even through tears. “Exactly. Trust me, they’re going to be over the moon about this. You’re their family, too. And yeah, it’s big—it’s bigger than anything we’ve done—but you don’t have to carry that alone. My parents, they’re gonna be here, every annoying, loving step of the way.”

She squeezed his hand, feeling a little more grounded. “Thanks, babe. I needed that.”

Dieter nodded, his own emotions bubbling under the surface. He knew how hard this was for her, and he wanted to make sure she never felt like she was alone in this. “Hey, we’re in this together. And we’re about to make their year, so let’s go in there and give them something to celebrate.”

They stepped out of the car, hand in hand, and walked up to the front door. She adjusted her coat, feeling the weight of the moment settle in her chest, but Dieter squeezed her hand reassuringly. They’d been parked for a while, gathering themselves, and now it was time. Dieter knocked, and within seconds, the door swung open.

Dieter’s mother stood there, her expression a mix of concern and relief. “Oh, there you are! We were starting to get worried—you’ve been sitting out there for ages. I thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Everything’s fine,” Dieter assured her, giving her a quick hug. “We were just… talking.”

His mom nodded, though she kept glancing between them, still a little uncertain. “It’s so good to see you two! Come in, come in.”

Dieter’s father was in the living room, setting out coffee and cookies on the table. He looked up, grinning in his usual dry way. “Hey, you two. What’s this? I thought you’d be busy writing another bestseller or maybe dragging Dieter around to get some culture.”

Dieter laughed, shaking his head. “Well, it’s not that, but it’s something just as good.”

His wife exchanged a quick look with him, her nerves sparking up again. Dieter, sensing her hesitation, gave her an encouraging smile and gently reached up to help her with her coat. As he slipped it off her shoulders, he draped it neatly over the back of the couch, revealing the gentle curve of her growing bump.

His parents’ eyes widened, and for a second, they both just stared, taking it in. Dieter’s mom’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh my gosh… are you…?”

Dieter’s wife nodded, her voice trembling with a mix of nerves and joy. “We’re having a baby. I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, there was only stunned silence, and then his mom let out a joyous cry, rushing forward to hug her. “Oh, sweetheart! This is the most wonderful news! Look at you—how far along are you? I can’t believe it!”

Dieter’s dad, who usually kept his emotions under wraps, pulled Dieter into a hug, his voice thick with pride. “Son, this is incredible. I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. I’m not sure if you remember this, but there was a time when I wasn’t sure you’d ever get your life together, let alone settle down.”

Dieter blinked, caught off guard by his dad’s words. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.” He hesitated, swallowing hard before speaking again. “I know I’ve been a mess, but… I’m really excited about this. I want to do it right.”

His father clapped him on the shoulder, his expression warm. “You’ve already done right by me. You’ve grown up, Dieter, more than I ever thought possible. And now you’re going to be a dad. I couldn’t be prouder.”

They all settled into the living room, Dieter’s mom already buzzing with plans. “Okay, so tell me everything! When’s the due date? How are you feeling? Have you thought about names yet? We have to start planning—oh, and the nursery! We’ll need to paint, get a crib—”

Dieter held up his hands, laughing. “Mom, slow down. You’re going to choke yourself on your own saliva with how fast you’re going. One thing at a time.”

She laughed, waving him off but nodding. “Okay, okay. But this is just… it’s all so exciting. I’ve been waiting for this day for so long, and now it’s finally happening.”

Dieter’s wife smiled, feeling the warmth of Dieter’s mom’s excitement wash over her. “Thank you. Really, I’m so glad we get to share this with you. It’s been a lot to take in, but having you both here means the world.”

Dieter’s mom squeezed her hand, her eyes filled with emotion. “You’re not without parents completely, you know that, right? You’ve got us now. We’re going to be right here with you, every crazy, wonderful moment.”

She nodded, fighting back tears. “I’m so grateful for that. You have no idea.”

Dieter’s dad leaned in, his voice quieter but no less heartfelt. “And I mean it, Dieter. I see the way you are with her, how much you’ve grown. You’ve got this, both of you. And I know you’re going to be amazing parents.”

As they continued to talk, laugh, and make plans, one thing stood out among them– they knew there was so much ahead—so many unknowns, so many firsts—but for now, it was enough to just be together and celebrate this beautiful news.

–

After spending a few hours basking in the joy and warmth of Dieter’s parents, they knew the next step was sharing the news with the rest of the world. It felt like another hurdle, one they were both eager and anxious to jump. They drove back home, feeling the weight of their secret beginning to lift. 

Once they were settled on their couch, they knew it was time to tell Dieter’s manager. Dieter pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, glancing over at his wife. “Ready?”

She nodded, though a nervous flutter still twisted in her stomach. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Dieter hit the call button, putting it on speaker. His manager picked up on the second ring, his voice chipper and businesslike. “Dieter, my man! What’s up? You ready to talk about the next big project? We’ve got offers coming in like crazy.”

Dieter laughed, exchanging a look with his wife. “Hey, uh, about that… we’ve got something to tell you. It’s kind of a big deal.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then his manager’s voice dropped, curious and cautious. “Oh God, are you in trouble again? Do I need to get a lawyer on the line?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Dieter said quickly, his grin wide. “Actually, it’s the opposite of trouble.”

His wife jumped in, smiling as she spoke. “We’re having a baby.”

The line went quiet for a beat, and then his manager erupted in a cheer. “What? Oh my God! Are you serious? This is amazing! Bravo’s having a baby! You two, this is incredible.”

They laughed, feeling the enthusiasm radiating through the phone. “Yeah, we’re serious,” Dieter said. “We’re excited, and we wanted to let you know before it goes public.”

His manager was still buzzing, the excitement palpable. “You’re going to break the internet with this. But listen, you’ve got to be prepared. This is going to be huge news—your fans, the media, everyone’s going to go nuts. Some good, some bad, you know how it is. But honestly, this is the best news I’ve heard all year.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, exchanging congratulations and discussing the logistics of managing the media frenzy that would inevitably follow. Once they hung up, Dieter turned to her, his eyes bright. “You ready to tell the world?”

She nodded, and together, they crafted a simple but heartfelt post for social media. They chose a candid photo taken that morning, with Dieter’s hand resting protectively over her small bump, both of them smiling with unfiltered joy. The caption read: Our greatest adventure yet. Baby Bravo coming soon.

They hit ‘share,’ and within moments, the post began to explode. Likes, comments, and shares flooded in at a speed that was almost overwhelming. Messages of congratulations poured in from friends, fans, and fellow celebrities. The overwhelming support was heartwarming, and they found themselves caught up in the happiness of it all.

But as the notifications kept coming, there were, of course, some that stung. Dieter scrolled through, his brow furrowing at the inevitable wave of negativity from the corners of his fanbase that couldn’t handle change.

“She’s probably just using him for fame. Classic.”

“Guess Dieter’s fun days are officially over.”

“He doesn’t deserve this. What about all the times he said he didn’t want kids?”

Dieter sighed, shaking his head as he turned off the screen. “I knew there’d be some backlash, but damn. People can be ruthless.”

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her own emotions in check. “I mean, I expected some of it, but it still hurts. I just thought… I don’t know, that people would be happy for us.”

Dieter pulled her into his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, don’t let them get to you. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we’ve been through to get here. This is our moment, not theirs.”

She nodded, leaning into his comfort. “I know, it’s just… I guess I didn’t expect people to be so… mean. I thought this would be different.”

Dieter kissed her temple, his touch gentle. “Some people will never be happy, babe. But look at all the love we’ve got here.” He pulled up the comments from their closest friends, the ones who knew them beyond the headlines. Messages of support, love, and shared joy filled the screen, reminding them of the people who truly mattered.

“Look at this one,” Dieter said, reading aloud. “‘I always knew you’d be the best parents. Baby Bravo is lucky to have you both.’” He smiled, scrolling down. “And this one—‘I’m so proud of you guys. Can’t wait to meet the little one.’”

She smiled, letting the warmth of those messages push away the sting of the negativity. “I guess we have to focus on that, huh?”

“Exactly,” Dieter said, squeezing her close. “This is our family. Our life. And no one gets to take that away from us.”

They spent the rest of the evening curled up together, ignoring the noise of the outside world and focusing on the love that poured in from those who truly understood. Their phones continued to buzz, and the news spread quickly, but for now, it was just the two of them, dreaming about their future with the baby they were already so deeply in love with.

A few weeks had passed since their announcement, and life had begun to settle into a new kind of normal. 

They were still receiving messages of congratulations, along with the occasional snarky comment, but the love outweighed the negativity by miles. 

Dieter and his wife had embraced this next phase with open hearts, pouring over baby books, setting up the nursery, and spending quiet moments together, dreaming about the future.

One night, as they sat in the nursery—still half-finished, with paint samples and swatches scattered everywhere—Dieter was busy assembling a crib, grumbling softly as he fumbled with the instructions. His wife sat cross-legged on the floor, watching him with a soft smile, one hand resting on her belly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for your dad to help with that?” she teased, noting his intense focus and the stray bolts lying around.

Dieter looked up, smirking. “Nah, I’ve got it. Besides, I’ve got to prove I can put something together that’s not going to collapse on us. I mean, it’s literally a crib. If I can do this, I can do anything.”

She laughed, watching as he finally managed to fit the pieces together, looking far too proud of himself. He stood back, admiring his handiwork before turning to her, his smile broad and genuine. “See? Told you I’d figure it out.”

She patted the spot beside her on the floor, and he sat down, pulling her into his side. They sat there quietly for a moment, both gazing at the crib—the first tangible piece of their new life together.

“Can you believe this is happening?” she murmured, her voice soft with wonder. “Sometimes it still feels like a dream.”

Dieter nodded, his hand drifting to rest over her bump. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been in a lot of weird dreams, but this… this is the best one. And it’s real.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat against her cheek. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”

He turned to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “We already are, baby. And it’s only going to get better.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in the promise of what was to come—messy, beautiful, and entirely theirs.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Roy had, he realizes, half-expected this to happen. He must have suspected on some level that their trip up to Manchester to face off against City would see a repeat of last season’s illicit night-time outing, because when he catches sight of Jamie surreptitiously slinking away from the team movie night just as the film ends, he isn’t surprised.

Just rolls his eyes and huffs a fucking prick, before telling Nate that he’s going out and not to let any of those idiots cause any trouble.

He can feel Beard’s eyes following him as he follows Jamie, out of the impromptu movie hall and the hotel, and into the chilly evening.  

Roy lets Jamie amble on for a couple of streets. Let the little muppet think he got away with it; it’ll make his realisation to the contrary all the more satisfying. Then, as Jamie idles on the pavement while waiting for a lull in traffic, Roy sneaks up to him and grabs his shoulder.

”Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Jamie startles, which is pleasing. He doesn’t look particularly concerned at catching sight of his fearsomely scowling coach, however, which is less pleasing.

“Fucking hell, Roy,” he says, having the gall to sound mildly reproachful. “How’s giving your best player a heart attack the night before you take on the champions a good idea, eh?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Roy drawls. “Is it a worse idea than letting one of my players sneak off and break curfew the night before we take on the champions?”

Jamie snorts, unimpressed at his coach’s careful omission of the best. Shrugging out of Roy’s grip, he starts walking again. “Weren’t going to get into any trouble or nothing,” he says airily. “Just wanted to see me mum.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Not exactly a leap. (And if there’s a part of Roy that had been concerned that Jamie might slink away to see someone else, well… No need to bring that up. There’s been enough heated discussions on that topic between them ever since Roy learned of Jamie actually going up to see his fucking piece of shit father in rehab.)

For a few moments, they walk in silence, through the chill October air and the increasingly distant rush of Manchester traffic.

“Are you… okay?” Roy asks eventually. It comes out hesitant and it takes all of his willpower not to smash his own stupid face in for how silly he sounds. He’s getting better at this, he thinks – the emotional shit – but he’s still not good at it.

Jamie cuts him a surprised look. “Uh, yeah? Awesome. Why?” Then his face softens into understanding, his soft lips curling into a silent oh. “I’m good, Coach,” he says earnestly, pushing a strand of his carefully styled hair out of his eyes. “Swear down. Just wanted to say hi to mummy, yeah?”

Roy nods. He’d thought as much, but… he’d needed to make sure. “You could have just asked.”

Jamie gives him a sidelong glance. “Yeah, well, but. You’re not Ted. Might have said no.”

Roy’s eyes snap to Jamie’s face, narrowing in incredulity. “And if I had I told you, specifically, that no, Jamie, you may not fucking run off to see your mum the night before a game, then you wouldn’t have tried to slip away?”

“Yeah, man, ‘course.” Off Roy’s sceptical look, Jamie makes a face. “Come on, Coach. I do everything you tell me to, don’t I? Even when it’s stupid,” he adds, not quite under his breath.

And Roy doesn’t know what to say to that because… Jamie is right, isn’t he. He does everything Roy tells him to, and while that’s… good, obviously, hearing it stated so baldly leaves Roy feeling. Well. Something. Not bad, exactly, but slightly like he’s on a roller-coaster and suddenly he’s weightless and breathless and with that sucking sensation in his gut. Or like when he held Phoebe for the first time, awed and terrified of all that frail softness in his rough hands.

He clears his throat, pushing that weird feeling right back down into the dark recesses of his mind where it belongs. “Sneaking out of the fucking hotel when I told everyone to stay in and hit bed before eleven is a weird fucking way of doing what I tell you.”

“Yeah, but that was like, general,” Jamie says, waving away Roy’s fully legitimate argument like an errant fly. “It’s different, yeah?”

“It really fucking isn’t,” Roy snaps, even as there’s small, strange part of him that feels that Jamie – inexplicably – has a point.

Jamie grins at him, then, “And yet you haven’t hauled me back yet,” he notes, exaggeratedly looking around them to indicated the more and more run-down surroundings, and sure enough, if memory serves Roy right they’re already halfway back to the council estate where Jamie grew up.

Fucking hell.

But he’d suspected this, too, hadn’t he. Known that he wasn’t really going after Jamie just to read him the riot act and bring him back in.

“Half an hour,” Roy growls. “Then I am hauling you back to the hotel, and if I hear one complaint about it, I’m making you run the whole fucking way and then we’re doing burpees until you drop and I don’t care if you’re too stiff to play tomorrow.”

Like hell you don’t, Jamie’s laughing eyes tell him, but all he says is, “Yes, Coach. Mint.”

Roy gives a curt nod. Mint. Yeah. Maybe that’s what this is.

At least it could be hell of a lot worse.

At least until Jamie asks, much, much too innocently, “So, Coach, are you coming with me ‘cause you wanna keep an eye on me or because you wanna see me mum too?”

Roy is grateful that there’s no telling if his cheeks redden in the autumn dark, and that his voice is as gruff as ever when he growls, “All right, you are definitively running back to the hotel, Tartt.”

Jamie sighs. It’s a happy sound. “Yes, Coach.”

[jacarandaaaas]

What you hate about each Encanto character and what you love about each Encanto character?

oh this is such a fun ask! a hard question as I love all the madrigals and the fact they’re so flawed makes them more fun to follow!

alma: i love her commitment, how she vowed to protect all these people even sacrificing her own needs to provide for others, how she promised these people a place of refudge and was always there to provide.

dislike: An obvious one here but I dislike how controlling alma can be, how her need for perfection can blind her and lead her to disregarding her own families feelings as well as her own! Her generally dismissing a lot of the problems of her family like telling pepa to control her emotions or not realizing how hurtful her comments are to mirabel.

pepa: i love how emotional she is! when pepa loves she loves with her entire heart she pours her all into every interaction and she wears her heart on her sleeve! she’s so compassionate! pepa truly is an open book and I love her for it!

dislike: i would probably say how she can get irrational very quickly and cause situations to elevate fast! Although I really can’t blame her for this based on the circumstances!

julieta: i always describe julieta as warm and i feel like no other word can capture her comforting nature and gentleness. I just love her warmth and her soothing energy!

dislike: I would say how she tends to coddle mirabel a lot. I know it comes from a place of love but you can see it doesn’t help mirabel and only makes her feel more insecure because julieta doesn’t understand her.

bruno: for bruno I would say I love how selfless he is. It’s a big thing to sacrifice your own sanity like that for someone else and it’s touching how much he truly cares about mirabel to want to protect her like that.

dislike: i would have to say how he’s timid a lot of the time. It’s sad to see him become so resigned and almost accept his fate and stay in the walls possibly forever. He had no fight left in him.

felix: I adore how felix is just the epitome of life of the party! he’s so uplifting and I love how he never gives out to pepa for her emotions. He’s the best at cheering people up and a sunshine in everyone’s lives!

dislike: about felix? that’s hard to say I feel like we don’t see enough of him for me to really base my answer on anything so I’m just gonna say how he told pepa about the vision at dinner😭 dude that was the worst idea!!

agustín: i love how supportive he is! He continuously supports julieta he runs after luisa when she’s upset and he promises mirabel he would hide the vision to protect her! the fact both he and julieta tried to go after her when she ran for the candle too! He also fiercely stands up for mirabel in such an iconic way and he doesn’t back down!

dislike: I would have to say how he can often hammer in the fact he is also unexceptional to try relate to mirabel but it makes the situation worse.

isabela: I love how loyal isa is. She was doing everything for the sake of the family and was willing to sign her entire life away just to keep them happy. Her loyalty knows no limits and I just feel it’s such a defining trait for her.

dislike: probably how smug she can be at times a key example being the apologize scene! it is funny but it’s also infuriating how smug she was making mirabel apologize for something she didn’t even do. Also how she tells mirabel to shut up and her general rude remarks to her!

dolores: for dolores I would say I love how attentive she is! small scene but how she immediately notices alma needs help and goes to offer her support! She notices the small details even without her super hearing! Like how she points out how mariano talks loud even though she hears everyone’s voice his always stuck out to her <3

dislike: probably how she blurts stuff out without thinking it through! like we know she was trying to be helpful when she told the kids mirabel doesn’t have a gift but she didn’t consider how mirabel would feel about that.

luisa: I love how kind luisa is! she was always willing to lend a hand to the people who need her even when they absolutely could deal with a lot of issues themselves! She’s also very sensitive and soft and I love when she allows herself to be vulnerable!

dislike: this might be unexpected but for dislike i would have to say how she kept ignoring mirabel when she wanted to talk. I understand she was stressed and mirabels being irritating but she could atleast look at her, mirabels already ignored a lot already and all she wanted was to talk to her sister about an issue.

camilo: like how mirabel says in the opening song I love how camilo won’t stop until he makes people smile! whether it be through his humor or his compassion I get the impression he would always be there for people. the scene where he comforts pepa is such a key example of this!

dislike: he can be a bit too blunt at times where it’s definitely not called for! he also has a tendency to exaggerate the truth for dramatic effect!

mirabel: have always said this and always will mirabels core trait is her empathy! Her ability to see others perspectives and empathize with them is so important! I always think of the “I need you” scene as a key example of this. She put aside her own feelings and focused on supporting antonio making sure he’s ok! how when she learns of the other madrigals struggles she tries her best to help them or comfort them! empathy is such a strong defining trait for her!

dislike: when it comes to mirabels negative traits I would have to say her stubbornness is the most prominent. the entire scene in isabelas room is proof of this she would have rathered let that house collapse than apologize or even listen to isabelas struggles the fact she was supportive and empathic to everyone’s issues but isas (at first) she was too stubborn to put aside her issues with isa! but also her recklessness and impulsiveness tie into this as well.

antonio: I love everything about him he’s so sweet and caring and I love how he returns the support mirabel gave to him! he always believed in her and was her biggest supporter and best friend! also how offered his plushie to comfort bruno when he was nervous! antonio is just such a caring kid!

dislike: nothing literally nothing how can u dislike this baby?

[pleasantspark]

My Experience with Harassment Regarding Hazbin Hotel's "HuskerDust" Fan Base.

Alright, let's start by saying.

People can ship whatever the fuck they want, it doesn't matter if it's canon or not, if you're up in arms about a fictional cat and a spider named after a drug, then touch grass.

It all started in a unnamed server, I was in the fandom before the series officially aired on Amazon. I had a love for Alastor, (hence the creation of Pandora Magne Charlie's Little Sister, and their 3 kids, before switching to Lucifer's Twin Sister and Alastor) then I moved on to Husk and Mammon.

Then began my love for Husk, where I created an Angel OC that was married to Adam before being banished to Hell for being a pacifist.

I even gave them a fankid, (although fankids is more appropriate but the known one is Dusk.)

The reception was pretty good, with some good comments on Left Behind but some Discord Users kept screeching about HUSKERDUST and the importance of staying true to the ship, with some even calling me Homophobic?

Husk is FUCKING PANSEXUAL!

This is an irritation of mine that people seem to always do, when regarding sexualitys in the BiPan spec, they always erase the sexuality and (usually for males) make the character gay while deluding themself into thinking they are GAY when they aren't.

I am sick and tired of idiots doing this, and the fact these people are willing to issue death threats while also calling you a "bigot" and even go as far as to encourage others to harass you.

Despicable, no one should have to be told their ship's invalid because the creator of the show cannot write a less than toxic environment while also writing shit characters and shit dynamics between characters that you got while scrolling at 2AM on a Monday on TVTropes.

The result of your bad writing and attitude is the main reason why the Hazbin Hotel Fandom fucking failed, your fans are following what YOU ARE DOING VIZIEPOP, I don't care if you're rich and fucking famous, you're proving that you let money get to your head, and you ONLY see your fans that blindly worship your every move as "good to be around."

You probably dropped the old cast members because they said something to you that you didn't like.

I am sick and tired of dealing with this fandom's bs and continuing to support dickheads and pieces of shit while also writing shit thats literally similar to ViziePop.

Hazbin ain't no "gamechanger" to Adult Animation, because it might as well go into the garbage with shows in the same sphere.

I'm jjuuuuust tired of this, atleast with PartyCoffin and Welcome Home Coffin had BASICALLY tried their best at maintaining a fandom that grew big, but now, now it's completely empty and vacant mainly due to (imo the Fanbase.)

[starryeyedcas]

Every Destiel Fic I’ve Ever Read [WIP]

Let’s do it! I took this list directly from my twitter

I’m not really going to post my ratings and stuff and I’m not going to copy what I said verbatim because as I grow older my opinions always change and every fic deserves love regardless of what some stranger on the internet thinks! Check these out if you need something new to read :)

Also, side note: A lot of the fics I tend to read are either non-canon or pre S10. If your looking for canon type, recent fics this will not be a list for you and I apologize :(

Also pt. 2: Some of the fics that I have listed on my twitter are no longer available so I have decided to not list them here. It’s very sad because there were some really good ones! Regardless, I’m still trying to keep this list as up to date as I possibly can when it comes to my reading ventures. Either way, I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I do <3

1. NINETY ONE WHISKEY

By komodobits, 401,193 words (not counting other fics in the series)

Please, please, please! Read this if you haven’t yet!! It’s a slow burn, World War II based fic and it’s my absolute favorite fic of all time. In fact I think it may be my favorite story of all time!! I come back to this fic always. If I’m sad, I read it. If I’m happy, I read it. I’ve read it probably 4 or 5 times at this point and it always holds up. I will say though, IT WILL MAKE YOU CRY. Dean and Cas are written VERY well, in fact every character in this fic are written to perfection. You find yourself growing attachments to side characters that you may have even forgotten existed in the show. I seriously cannot recommend this one enough. You will not regret it.

2. A BRIEF GLIMPSE

By cloudyjenn, 12,356 words

I’ll be honest, this one is special for me. This was the very first Destiel fic I ever read back in 2014. That being said, I may be a little biased towards it but I do genuinely think that it’s very cute. It’s a Slice-of-Life esque story with light supernatural happenings; where Castiel is in high school and has a very big crush on his best friend, Sam Winchester. Things start to go awry when Sam invites Cas to a carnival. I won’t spoil too much though! If you want a quick read with some fluff, definitely read this one.

3. SMELLS LIKE ROSES

By unknown :(, 53,828 words

Uhoh! A Djinn fic! I remember this one just hurting me so much. Dean is living his dream life. Everything around him is perfect and he’s mysteriously very happy. When you get to the end of this fic, holy cow the heartbreak. It’s written very well, you obviously can’t go wrong with a fic that slightly follows canon. I really like this one and I might reread it again soon but I cannot stress enough how much it hurts! Stay safe out there.

4. NOT ALL THE WAY THROUGH

By Tracy, around 4,700 words

Shorter fic based around s5 episodes 3 and 4. This one is good but it’s also very painful. I think I like fics that hurt me lol. There are some warnings I want to state! This fic features substance abuse, non con, mentions of torture and A CHARACTER DEATH so please be careful! This is told through Castiel’s perspective and all the summary says is “Castiel’s new life begins and ends with Dean.” So I will leave it at that. (Also as a side note whenever I think of this fic I think of the song ‘And So it Goes’ by Billy Joel. Listen to that while reading and you are sure to shed some tears. Stay safe friends xx)

5. PAINTED ANGELS

By WinnJennster, 105,637 words

This one used to be really popular, so it’s likely many of you have already read it. Either way I will still recommend it. It’s a nice little “reunited” type fic in which Cas is an author and Dean is a painter. I will say, however, that the angst in this fic is HEAVY. Personally, I’m not huge into giant angsty fics like this, or maybe the type of angst portrayed in this one. I just remember feeling a little frustrated by it. YET, this fic has a lot of good memorable moments with some fluff sprinkled throughout. If you love angst, this is the fic for you. WARNING though, you need an AO3 account to read this fic. If you’re not already logged in, you’re out of luck.

6. TWIST AND SHOUT

By Gabriel and standbyme, 97,556 words

Who are we kidding?? Everyone on this website KNOWS this fic. You all could probably recount it backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down. Who knows. All we know is that this fic is a capital S-A-D. When I was in high school, I LOVED this fic. I adored it, no matter how much it made me cry. Because YES there is a MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. And NO it’s not FUN. Can I be honest? After rereading it, I feel as if Cas and Dean are out of character! Doesn’t mean it’s a bad story, absolutely not. It’s beautiful! I think it’s wonderful and obviously I recommend it. But you could change the names of the boys and you wouldn’t even know its based off two characters from Supernatural. This is my hill and I will gladly die on it. Read it if you dare, but remember to beware OOooOOoooOo (another side note: I had to go to the fic to get the link for this post and I swear to God my eyes watered when I read that first sentence. I HATE and I LOVE this fic all at the same time.)

7. SMOKE IN THE MIRROR

By letters_of_stars, 52,327 words

Oh shoot! Dean is an artist and he needs a nude model!! Who do you think is gonna take the bait?!?! In all seriousness though, I really adore this one. YES Castiel is nude and YES Dean is painting him but if you’re expecting smut right from the get go you are mistaken! I wanna say this is another slow burn?? But it has also been a while since I’ve read it. I just remember liking this one a lot. In my original rating, I gave it a 5/5 so that’s gotta mean something. Another little slice of life with a lot of good moments. Check it out!

8. A HOME BENEATH THE STARS

By CheshireMoon, 71,240 words

Hi, it’s me again. The girl who likes fics that rip her heart to SHREDS. I’m gonna be about as vague as can about this one because boy did that ending catch me off guard when I first read it. So Dean is homeless, right? And Cas is a kind hearted, Good Samaritan, astronomer. When the two meet Dean’s life changes… for the better… I’m gonna leave it at that. You could be ignorant like me and skip over the warnings to this fic and just leave it to good will and faith that this fic will leave you happy and giggly. Or you could do yourself a favor and know what’s coming but not know when it happens. Either way, I still recommend this one. I really like it, just make sure you have a fluff fest fic waiting for you on the other side.

9. THE FACE OF HEAVEN

By orange_crushed, 9,772 words

This one is short and so so sweet. Another type of slice-of-life where Dean is just a gay bartender living his best gay bartending life when he suddenly comes across a fallen star whose name is Castiel. It’s very unique and I love it so much. In my original opinion of this fic I said I didn’t like the formatting? And I think what I meant to say is, I don’t like reading long paragraphs but the formatting to this fic is perfectly fine lol. Still a fun little read and it’s pretty fluffy!

10. SO MUCH TANGLED THREAD

By imogenbynight, 37,428 words

Holy crap! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES. It’s like, Ninety One Whiskey almost, except there’s time travel, and supernatural happenings, and OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS FIC. It’s ends pretty quick but it’s still so so so good. Please read it, show it some love. I think about this one from time to time and I still smile. Much like with Painted Angels, you need an account to read this one. So make sure you’re logged in! If you don’t have an account you best get that invitation fr.

11. DIAMOND STAR HALO

By had, 4,924 words

Just pure fluff told from Sam Winchester’s perspective. I kind of have a soft spot for fics told from a third party perspective because it’s like they’re seeing Dean and Cas how WE see Dean and Cas and it makes me all giddy, I dunno. This is a good short read and you should definitely read it after reading something really sad and heart wrenching!

12. CINDERWINGS

By bendingsignpost, 181,619 words

STOP!! I love this fic!! It’s a Cinderella type story, there’s a masquerade ball, Dean is a PRINCE. Very fantasy with supernatural elements. It’s WONDERFUL. The way the author writes about the world through Castiel’s perspective is super entertaining and funny and I love the misunderstandings that happen within the story. If you love fantasy and monarchy and magic and parties, this is definitely a fic for you.

13. ONE WHITE LIE

By komodobits, 11.179 words

I can’t lie, komodobits is my favorite fic author and so I am a little biased towards their stories. This one is no exception. It’s hilarious, lighthearted, and fluffy. The range that this author has with their fics amazes and horrifies me. How can one person have that much talent? I have no idea. This is just a komodobits appreciation post, you got me. Anywho, Castiel tells a small lie to the Winchester brothers and they mess with him. Not based in canon, a very slice-of-life fic. I love it, please check it out.

14. FORGET-ME-NOT BLUES

By noangelsinthegarrison, 68,689 words

Ahhh I remember this one. Another slice-of-life, have you noticed a pattern? Sam and Jess are getting married! Woohoo! Of course Dean is in the wedding but so is Castiel, someone Dean has history with……….. Basically there’s misunderstandings and mutual pining and it’s fun. It’s got all sorts of romcom elements with just a dash of angst!

15. MUSCLE MEMORY

By komodobits, 18,961 words

Give me a story that’s loosely based off of 50 First Dates and written by my favorite fic author and suddenly I’m in Heaven. I’m a really big fan of movie AU’s, especially well written and this one is no exception. It’s kind of sad though, but if you’ve seen 50 First Dates then you should expect that. Even if you aren’t a fan of movie AU’s, I would still suggest giving this one a read.

16. KIND OF A FOREVER DEAL

By komodobits, 111,460 words

STOP LOOKING AT ME. YOU THINK IM PUTTING TOO MANY FICS BY THE SAME AUTHOR HERE? WELL YOU LISTEN TO ME PAL, THIS WON’T BE THE LAST ONE EITHER!! Ahem, this fic is awesome and sort of a fan favorite already!! Slice-of-life, teenaged angst, summer camp, LoVe, it’s amazing! The way that the author wrote the friendship between Dean, Cas, Jo, and Victor has me in tears. Very wholesome and heart wrenching, highly recommend!

17. IMPERFECT PROPOSALS

By Fallen_Angel_Meg, 111,082 words

Another movie AU! This is loosely based off The Proposal and filled with fluff! You really don’t see a whole lot of crossover fics that are long like this one, but it’s fun to read and you’ll probably fly through it just like I did. Do you like The Proposal? No? Read it anyways xx

18. CHECKED OUT

By whelvenwinge, 27,127 words

Okay this one, is really good. Like really good. It comes complete with original artwork and fantastic storytelling. Castiel is a librarian and he really despises Dean Winchester, an acclaimed author. It’s sooooo good, I cannot stress enough how much I think you should read this. And you’ll get really pretty pictures to look at! The ending is great, the beginning is great, it’s just wonderful. So what are you waiting for? Run along now and read it!

19. SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS

By habitatfordeanwinchester, 2,593

This one is just cute. It’s short and fluffy. Imagine Castiel working at a Chipotle and getting special instructions on a mobile order. Can you guess who they’re from? If you’re sad and need a pick me up, just read this one. It’s so cute!

20. C-S-T-L

By komodobits, 90,377

It has been a really long time since I read this one. But I know that I loved every second of it and I was crying during the majority of it. Either because I had just got done reading 91w or because the story itself made me emotional. Either way it’s a fantastic read! Castiel is an android and Dean is tasked with adding him to their army for the WAR. This fic has wonderful world building, really in-depth character exploration, and the ANGST. I’m probably going to read this one again sometime soon~ JOIN MEEEEE

[xclowniex]

Oh wow, so nice that New Zealand doesn’t consider an army that raped, mutilates and kills brown kids to be a bunch of terrorist barbarians but they consider the brown people defending themselves to be so.

Can’t say I’m shocked, considering what you fucking animals have done to the Māori for centuries, but it’s nice hearing one of you admit openly that white lives matter more and that whites committing terrorism against POC is perfectly fine.

Glad to know that people not being their governments except when it comes to Israelis now has the exception extend to jews when they are in the diaspora and their diaspora government.

Yes, the New Zealand government has been vile to Māori. And it continues to do so as David Seymour wants to get rid of Te Tiriti O Waitangi. Which I have spoken out about before on this blog.

I've also said on this blog before that I voted for Te Pati Māori last election.

What I haven't said before so I'll say now is that my work does a Māori cultural capability course every year. It is lead by Māori to make everyone understand Māori culture and to unlearn racism. It is not compulsory but I do it every year as it gets updated every year and I want to make sure I'm the best ally I can be.

It's funny that you're sending all of this in an ask knowing nothing about New Zealand history. Because New Zealand has does more than other countries to try to remedy the awful shit done in the past. Is it as good as it can be? No there is so much more work to be done.

Also I fucking dare you to give me some New Zealand history regarding Māori oppression, because I doubt you actually know anything of substance.

But I guess assuming jews are automatically racist towards brown people is the new trope.

And I don't care if this doesn't change your opinion on if I'm racist or not, your opinion doesn't matter to me, what matters is that my actions speak for themselves.

And to address your first bit, I think we need to take away big words from you until you can learn to use them properly. I explained the difference according to law in my country. To me, that's the law and what I'll be following.

Also, hezbollah is not defending themselves, they attacked first by carpet bombing northern Israel. Unless you're conflating hamas and hezbollah, which whilst they are both proxies of Iran, they are two different proxies. More of a reason to keep big boy words from you till you can understand them

[glisten-inthedark]

Byler Analysis | A Master Analysis

Oh boy, this will be a long one but let's go.

In this analysis, I won't talk about lighting, or about pocket squares, arrows or rainbows. I will talk about only about what the show has showed and told us.

Because while I won't dispute that said lighting, blocking and signs might be important to the story, general viewers aren't aware of it and yet somehow they keep missing vital parts of the story.

The following points are those provided by us by the narrative, by what they show vs what they tell, so strap in because this is a long one. Some of these points have been brought up, actually I think most of them considering I'm new to the fandol but don't mind that.

Our first scene has the boys playing together, but only Will stays behind. It's important to note that while Will bikes away, Mike's eyes follow him as he leaves and he keeps on watching him, fact which is further proved by how the camera remains steady on him for a good while and just after cuts to Mike.

Mike is the first to notice how Will didn't show up at school, and two of his other friends didn't worry about it at first. Then, when Will's body is found, the reaction they choose to focus on it's Mike's. Which begs the question, why differentiate between reactions when all the boys care deeply about Will? Why is Mike's reaction more visceral, more aggressive? And more importantly, why follow him home where we can see him cry into his mother's arms? They didn't show us Lucas' reaction, or Dustin's, instead they focused solely on Mike. And yeah, you could argue that it's because he knew Will the longest, but then we remembered that according to Mike himself, he knew he loved El the moment he met her (I know that's BS, but bare with me for a second), so why wouldn't they show us him being that upset over her apparent demise? Yes, he asks them where she is but that's the only thing he does, and after he just keeps trying to contact her on his walkie but he never actively looks for her. We see that. We even see that he thinks he saw El at the school and yet dismissed it as his imagination.

Later, Mike would claim he never stopped looking for her but that's also not we actually saw. Yes, he called for her, but didn't actively look for her like we saw him do with Will.

There's a stark difference, because with Will he literally started a search party to look for him.

I'm not saying Mike doesn't care for El, of course he does and he always will, but it's not near the same vicinity of what we saw him do for Will and we can't pretend otherwise.

So, why was important that we followed Mike home as he comes to terms with Will's "death?"

It's one of the first signs that their friendship is different, more profound and of more significance.

3. Mike knew that Will was alive

I think most people don't realize that, but Mike knew, just like Joyce knew, that the body didn't belong to Will and he didn't even have the advantage of seeing said body.

They are the only two characters on the show that experience this level of connection to Will. One of them is a mother desperately looking for her child, the other is their best friend.

5. Mike's monologue to Will vs Mike monologue to El

By itself, it's easy to interpret Mike's monologue to Will as the act of a friend. But context is fundamental to storytelling.

Mike isn't the only friend Will has, Lucas and Dustin both care about him. But they made Mike the focus of that moment.

Why?

Bare in mind that all the people that are speaking to him are the people who love Will the most on the world. His mother, and his brother. It isn't just that these are people Will cares about, they are the people that care about him and that love him.

Again, Mike didn't need to be there. All the other boys were left behind, and yet, there was he.

Shouldn't we wonder why? Shouldn't we think about what was trying to be conveyed here?

Why is Mike different? Why is his voice that breaks Will out his trance? Why weren't all the other people that care about Will there too?

Why was it so vital that we saw Mike tell the story of when they met? Why wasn't Lucas there, or Dustin's?

Oh but that only proves they have a close relationship.

Sure, I'd buy that if it weren't for the fact that in season four, we are shown the opposite.

When confronted with his feelings - or lack thereof- Mike literally gaslights El, claiming he does say he loves her.

Later, in the actual scene, everything is pandemonium. El is chocking, the camera keeps showing us Will, there are multiple cuts that get us her reaction and Will's, and Mike hesitates.

The supposed love of his life is chocking to death and he hesitates. He's desperate, he wants to help but he can't, and the only thing that forces him is Will. He only says it because Will reminds him of the painting.

The more I think about that scene, the more contrived and nonsensical it becomes. Because look, I can be a pretty objective person, I can take my feelings out of the equation and state, confidently, that there's a contrast between Mike talking to Will vs him talking to El.

Another thing to note is that Mike doesn't hesitate to share about the brilliance that was meeting Will Byers. He doesn't have to think about or lie. He knows.

He tells the story of this little boy that was all alone, saw another boy on the swings, approached him and asked him to be his friend and how this boy said yes. But is not just that, is how making that decision turns out to be the best thing he's ever done.

He doesn't need to tell Will he loves him (in whichever way it is), it is evident that he does. Even it it's not romantic at the time.

When talking to El, he hesitates. He calls to her, doesn't use the words that he was meant to be using all along. It's only after Will tells him he's the heart that he does.

The contrast exists on the writing, on how things were edited and directed, and how the scenes land themselves.

You don't believe me? Watch them side by side.

The existence of Mike's monologue to El puts into perspective the existence of Mike's monologue to Will. In one, there's the presence of other people, a lot of cuts in between frames, there's the focus on someone that shouldn't even be there and above all else, there's a lie.

Mike didn't love El. He claims he knew then and there - the moment he met her - that he knew he loved her. But he couldn't have. Not when he was trying to send her away, not when the only reason he found her was because he was looking for Will.

But above all else. If that's the case, then choosing Will as a friend couldn't possibly be the best thing he's ever done, simply because the best thing he has ever done would have been harboring El, because he knew the moment he met her that he loved her. Or would've been any moment in which he could be with the supposed love of his life.

In the other, the light is deem, the focus is only on them, Mike tells this story and it's moved to tears by the sheer emotion of that moment.

If we treated Mike as himself and Will as a girl, the trope of true love that breaks the spell would be evident. Because that's what happens. Mike's love - in whichever capacity- breaks the trance.

6. The sudden and 180° shift in Mike's behavior from season 2 to season 3

I know that Mike has been acting well, how to put it nicely? Not like the Mike we met during season 1 and 2

And I particularly viewed that sudden as a combination of multiple things. Firstly, I believe Mike thinks he needs to grow up, and that involves leaving childish things behind.

He is trying to conform to the notions of masculinity, trying to adept himself to what he believes to be socially acceptable and that doesn't include spending time with his friends, one in particular.

But I truly believe that the main focus of Mike's behavioral shift lies in Eleven. He isn't aware of what he's doing, but his ovverfixation with her exists because of his mental state.

What happened in season one? Will got taken and El helped get him back.

What happened in season 2? Will got possessed and almost died, but El managed to shut the gate and save everyone.

But you know what else happened during that time? Mike was solely focused on Will. While yes, he was calling El, his only focus is on him.

Now, I can only guess and infere at this point because unfortunately we lost Mike's POV, but I believe that during the summer he started to figure out things about himself he wasn't ready to face yet, and the reason why he realized ironically lies between El and Will.

El brings Mike a sense of stability, of trust and reliability. At first, she makes him feel needed, but she also makes him feel safe.

As people, we tend to rely on what's safe. Most of anyone will safely not take the plunge, would rather be stuck on eternal revolving doors just so that they're safe.

It's a lot safer for a teenager to pretend.

To pretend that this is the life he chose, and he must commit to it. He compensates, and he deflects and projects because his mentality is all or nothing. He needs to like the girl, he needs to feel something for the girl because that's what everyone has been telling him.

And when he tells Will that is not his fault Will doesn't like girls it wasn't about Will. It's about projecting onto him everything he supposedly hates about himself.

And as El tells him he loves her and kisses her, he doesn't close his eyes and why wonders why is there this feeling of wrongness?

Because he doesn't want things to change. As he stares at that house, at the place full of memories, is not El he misses.

As he comes home and holds his mother, we get a full parallel to the first season. And I wanted to point out, that at both points he believes he lost Will.

In the first to death. In the second, to a different life.

And as he holds his mom, Mike almost seems... Numb. Like he shut down all high level functioning so he won't break down.

7. How Mike and El's relationship is structured

I would be saying this even if I wasn't a shipper, but it's clear that the writers themselves made a point of showing that whatever Mil*even has, isn't love.

When Mike lies to El about Hopper, it isn't to protect her feelings. It's to protect himself.

And when El lies to Mike, it isn't so he wouldn't worry, it's to put up a front. It's so she can pretend that she's normal and that she isn't a monster. She isn't a monster, but somehow he doesn't make her feel like he accepts her as well.

Now, let's compare this to Jancy. We know that Jonathan doesn't intend on telling Nancy about college because he knows she'd come with him and he doesn't want to hold her down. He wants her to be happy, above all else, even if it breaks his heart.

That is love.

Love is wanting the other person to be happy and accepting that they might not be happy with you.

Now, does that sound familiar? Well, it should.

Because it's exactly what Will does. He lies because he loves Mike and he doesn't think his words would matter, so like Cyrano de Bergerac, he treats what he says as words from El.

And I know some people would claim Will deserves better than Mike, but the thing is... While Mike made mistakes, we are shown that whenever Will is concerned, he apologizes for those. He admits he's wrong, he knows he shouldn't have done.

Mike acting like an ass sometimes doesn't suddenly erase every good thing he's ever done. And we don't love people who deserve it, that's not how it works. We don't choose who we love, love isn't a button you can turn on and off whenever it's convenient and only when the other person deserves it. Love is so much more complicated than that. Like, scholars have been trying to explain, quantify and apply rationality to it for ages, it hasn't worked so far for a reason.