#😅 but i expected that so that one is on me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 3 days ago

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Holy. Fucking. Hell.

That was a mind fuck I didn’t see coming. 😅

Ok, first…I love Willow. What a wonderful OC. We didn’t see a lot of her but you gave us just enough to get to know her & love her. Also, that name makes me think of Willow from Buffy. 😏

Second…I thought endgame was Dieter with his girls. That was 100% what I was expecting. That twist was a surprise & I fucking loved it! I didn’t even realize I needed it until it hit. 😍

Wonderful job with this! So happy Dieter still got a happy ending, even if it wasn’t the one he expected.👏👏👏

Broken Hearts Mended

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x You, Joel Miller x You

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Minors, get out! Language(at this rate, just expect it. That's just me), Pregnancy, Dieter trying to fix his past, sad!Dieter, dad!Dieter, smut, pinv, oral(m!recieving), wedding crasher!Dieter, TIME TRAVEL, OFC

a/n: This is for the Roll-A-Trope Challenge by @burntheedges I got Time Travel! Never dabbled with that before but it was fun and sheesh, Kate- this is the longest story I've ever written! This could be considered a part two of Some Broken Hearts Never Mend but can be read as a standalone! The OFC is based off my bestie IRL @hessofather - thank you for being you, for helping me with the witchy stuff, and love ya bitch! Thank you @beefrobeefcal and @jay-zzle(for the moodboard &) for your eyes on this one! Love you both!

Masterlist||AO3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He’d been staring at the clock for an eternity or what felt like an eternity. Today was the day, the day Dieter’s been dreading since he found out.

Today is your wedding day.

In typical Hollywood fashion, a friend of a friend let it slip when the wedding was. Saturday afternoon, 3 pm to be exact. Mark was supposed to be on standby to ensure Dieter stayed at home today and didn’t do something stupid, but what Mark didn’t expect was to be locked in the pantry with Dieter sitting outside.

“Dieter, come on man,” Mark pleaded, “Think about this before you do something dumb.”

“Would it really be that bad if I went?!”

“Yes,” Mark sighed, “Dieter, you need to let her go. If you go to that hotel all that will happen is you make a fool of yourself and embarrass her!”

“Embarrass her?!” Dieter scoffs, looking at the closed door with offense. “I got sober for fucks sake! For her and she didn’t even let me see my kid! Instead that bastard is playing daddy to my Lexi! My peanut!”

“Dieter!” Mark shouts, slamming his fists against the door, “Let me out and let’s talk face-to-face about this.”

“Sheesh Mark, calm down,” Dieter says, glancing at the clock, “If I go, maybe she’ll see me and remember how much she loved me. I gotta try right?”

“Dieter, please,” Mark sighs, “Don’t do this. It’s not a good idea.”

“I have to try, Mark.”

“Damn it, Dieter!”

More punches are being thrown at the pantry door as Dieter slowly backs away from it.

“If I don’t try now, I’m just going to spend the rest of my life wondering what if!” Dieter shouts, “Mark, you gotta understand that man.”

—

Dieter was able to bribe a waiter into letting him in through the kitchen, he had tried the front but the hotel staff quickly guided him right back through the front door. The place was gorgeous, decked in all navy blue, gold, and white, and the flower petals spread down the aisle he stood in front of. Joel is standing next to the officiant, fiddling with the gold cufflinks on his wrists. The bridal song began and everyone looked back at Dieter.

He stood there frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard the door behind him open, he turned slowly. There you were, standing before him in a gorgeous flowy white gown.

“Dieter?” You asked, confusion painted across your face before it turned into a silent rage.

“I- I need-“ he began, trying to think of what to say.

“Jesus Christ,” your father muttered under his breath before shouting for security.

“Wait-“ Dieter gasped, as two men in suits grabbed his arms pulling him towards the hall, “Please! Let me just ha-“

“Wait!,” you shout panicked, before clearing your throat, “Sorry everyone,” you announce, “Let me just take care of this real quick then we’ll be ready to get this wedding started.”

Dieter was dumbfounded. You were actually going to listen to him. You wanted to hear what he had to say. He knew it! He still had a chance. You let go of your dad’s arm and looped it around Dieter’s, leading him out into the hallway with a polite reassuring smile to your guests.

In another life, this would be the way it went. You in your gorgeous wedding dress, walking down an aisle on his arm, smiling politely to your guests before he whisked you away to ravish you the entire night. Once the doors closed, you stepped away from him clearing your throat.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You hiss, the rage in you tipping over its boiling point.

“I wanted to-“ he starts softly before you interrupt him again.

“Wanted what Dieter?!” You seethe, “Did you not feel it was enough when you showed up at my home? My work? Lexi’s fucking school?”

“I didn’t think-“ he winces, knowing immediately those are the wrong words with the laugh you let out.

“No Dieter, you didn’t fucking think,” you scoff, “You’ve spent the past six years not fucking thinking and it’s shown plenty!”

“Baby-“ Dieter tries again.

“Don’t you dare call me that!” You stop him, “Dieter, you need to leave. I’m marrying Joel and Lexi finally has a dad who wants her and loves her.”

“But I do love her,” Dieter says, tears blurring his vision, “That’s why I stayed away from you both. I love you both so much, I didn’t want you wrapped up in my shit and I’m trying to change!”

You shake your head with a sigh.

“You just have to give me another chance,” he whimpers, the tears steadily falling down his face.

“No,” you say quietly, “You’ve had enough chances.”

—

You were officially done with his shit and let him know he’d be hearing from your lawyers on Monday. His heart broken, his mind felt numb, and Dieter’s legs began to move. He felt like pins and needles were pricking all over his skin, trying to ignore the feeling, he began to speed up. He’d be fine as long as he kept moving. His chest felt like there was a weight on it, trying to catch his breath.

He needed to find somewhere with air conditioning, maybe it’s the heat finally getting to him. Standing outside a store called Vixen’s. Huh, he thought, a sex shop would be the perfect way to distract his mind. A dinging sound chimes as he enters the store.

“Good afternoon!” A cheery feminine voice calls out from the back, “I’ll be right with you.”

Dieter stood next to a counter, focusing on his breathing. The place smelled like sage, rose, and lavender. This was definitely not a sex shop. His hands held onto the counter in front of him as he closed his eyes and took in the sweet aroma of the shop. Whatever it was, it was working to help calm him down.

“Sir?” A feminine voice called out to him, “Ya alright?”

Dieter looked towards the voice to see a short woman with auburn hair standing next to a door that stated Employees Only. He gave a short nod, signaling he was okay. He just had to focus on his breathing.

“Fuck!” She gasped, flailing her hands in the air, “It’s you! C’mere!”

“Huh?” Dieter asked in confusion, trying to catch his breath.

“C’mere!” She said more sternly, motioning for him to follow her, “Been expectin’ you to show up any day now and you’re finally here!”

Dieter began to follow the stranger apprehensively down a hall, passing multiple doors, as she began to talk more.

“The names’ Willow Vixen. Now that you’re here, maybe I can finally stop using the rose.” She states, wrinkling her nose, “Not my favorite but that’s what the ball suggested for your arrival. Considering it doesn’t give me much of a time frame I figured fuck it and just started making sure it was around at all times.”

“Ball?” Dieter asks, his legs taking over, continuing to follow Willow until they meet a door that has her name on it, “I’m sorry but do I know you?”

“Not yet, Dieter,” Willow hums, grabbing a key ring from her belt loops, and unlocking the door, “When we get inside I’ll explain.”

Once she opened the door, he was hit with a powerful smell of sage and rosemary. She ushered him in, closing the door behind her.

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to a table in the middle of the room.

He wasn’t sure what he was even doing here. Following a stranger into some back room of a store sounded like the beginnings of some ritual sacrifice and by the way her office was set up, it looked like it, too.

The room was dim before Willow fluttered about lighting candles while humming, beginning to shed more light on her space. He could see a table covered in an emerald green cloth with four chairs surrounding it, and a crystal ball sat upon a perch in the middle of it with dozens of candles surrounding it.

“So… uh,” Dieter hesitates, hands scrubbing through his hair. The fuck is he doing here? He should leave. Willow continues to hum while she lights more candles by a thick open book sitting on a desk, flipping through the pages before she stops.

“Ah-ha!” She announces with a joyous clap, “Would ya look at that! Found it on the first try.”

She looks up to see Dieter still standing by the door with a nervous energy about him.

“Gah damn it, Dieter,” she grumbles, approaching him, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya. I’m here to help ya. Now go on, sit,” Ushering him to the table, lightly patting him on the shoulders, “Let me just get a few more things ready before I truly start this process, alright?”

“Help me?” He asks, watching Willow move in the space around them. She grabbed a bottle and began spritzing it around the chair he sat in.

“Duh, I told ya,” Willow said with a raised eyebrow smirking, “Oh wait, maybe I didn’t? Did I?”

Dieter looked at her in bewilderment, continuing to watch as she placed the spray bottle of liquid beside him and grabbed incense instead, placing them in their holders and lit them.

“T- tell me what?” He asked nervously, placing his hands in his lap and beginning to fidget with his fingers.

“My apologies, sir.” Willow bows, “I am a witch! Well, kind of a-a witch. I’m a witch practicin’. My great great great great grandma was one and it kinda skipped a generation or two cause my folks decided we should follow Jesus instead. Ya in any sort of religion? I’ve been involved with… too many.”

Dieter shakes his head. Fuck, this is how it ends, he was right. She’s gonna sacrifice him.

“I’m spraying lavender right now to try and get your ass to calm down,” she states matter of factly picking the bottle up again, Dieter flinches when she sprays some directly onto his hair, “Your energy is thick with nerves. Now what was I sayin’?” She asked, stopping in place and staring at the table cloth.

“Oh yeah! Sorry, I have a disorder where my memory ain’t the best. Think Dory from Findin’ Nemo,” Willow smiles brightly, “I’m a witch and this here crystal ball-” she taps a finger against the clear ball in the middle of the table, “-showed me to be expectin’ ya.”

“Sh-showed you?” Dieter asks, cocking his head to the side with wide eyes.

“Yeah!” Willow exclaims, “Showed me you comin’ here, us doing some magic and then you fuckin’ off to whatever it is you’re tryin’ to change!”

“Wait,” Dieter stops, eyes widening, “What am I changing?”

“Beats me,” Willow shrugs, fanning the incense around before plopping down in the chair across from him, “Alls I know is I’m supposed to help ya get there.”

Dieter looks at her and then the ball in between them. It starts sparkling inside as the clear crystal becomes dense with a weird purple fog, swirling around the inside of the crystal.

“Oh shit! It’s doin’ the thing again!” Willow shrieks in excitement, bouncing in her chair, “I told ya the thing showed me what I needed to do! Maybe it’s trying to show you what you need to do.”

Dieter stares at the ball before the swirling fog reveals you lying in your shared bed years ago. He remembers this morning clear as day, it’s the morning before he went to that stupid party and relapsed.

“It’s her,” he chokes back a sob, “What kind of sick fucking trick is this?!”

“It’s not a trick!” Willow protests, “I’m tellin’ the truth! Just watch the damn thing!”

Dieter continues watching the fog swirl within the ball, seeing himself join you in bed. Dieter perks up as he watches himself undress you and begin worshiping you like the goddess you are. Willow clears her throat turning her head.

“Ope,” she murmurs, cheeks becoming flaming red, peering at the ceiling out of privacy, “Don’t think I’m supposed to watch this bit.”

Dieter is entranced, watching the two of you, reliving that entire day. Except in this version he never leaves the house, he stays home with you instead. That’s what he should have done, stay home and hang out with you instead of go to that stupid fucking party.

The purple fog disappears and the crystal becomes clear again, leaving Dieter even more confused.

“Wait!” He shouts, gripping the ball with both hands, “Come back! Show me more!”

“Now hold on just a damn minute,” Willow scolds, pushing his hands off the ball, “Don’t break my damn ball. It’s the only one I got.”

“But I want to see more,” Dieter lets out a pathetic whine, “How can I see more. Make it show me!” He demands.

“Not how it works, bub,” Willow huffs, “But, from the looks of it that’s where the ball wants me to send you.”

“S-s-send me?” Dieter stutters out with a scoff, “How are you gonna send me back to the happiest time of my life?”

“Time travel, duh,” Willow snorts, “The hell do you think you showed up here for?”

He looks at her with bewilderment. How the fuck is this girl supposed to help him go backwards in time?

“Now, now,” Willow says, clicking her tongue in annoyance, “I recognize that look. Ya don’t believe me,” she adds with a roll of her eyes, “I’ve got everything ready.”

She stands making her way to a small tea kettle, filling it with water from a jug before placing it on her desk beside the book. Willow moves through her office with a practiced ease, opening and closing cabinets, grabbing the things she’ll need for this ritual. Taking one last glance at the book on her desk before clearing her throat.

“Now, I’m gonna brew this tea for you to drink. It’s got some cloves, rosemary, garlic and cinnamon in it,” she explains, plunking and sprinkling the herbs in the kettle, “Oh shit!” She laughs, opening a desk drawer to pull out a small hot plate, “Ain’t gonna get very far without boilin’ it.”

Dieter watches as she softly hums, flitting about the room as the tea gets ready.

“Now, I got white sage and mullein burning already,” Willow explains pointing at each, “Helps with clarity.”

He nods, still confused and a little scared. He has no clue how this is supposed to actually work. Time travel isn’t real, this isn’t some movie like Back to the Future. Although, he thinks tilting his head, would be pretty cool to drive the DeLorean. His thoughts are interrupted by Willow chanting something over the tea right as the kettle lets out a shrill whistle. Willow pours the tea into a little cup bringing it over to the table, placing it in front of Dieter.

“Ain’t gonna lie to ya,” Willow grimaces, “Probably gonna be nasty as fuck with the herbs I had to use but it’s what the book said to use.”

“Probably not the worst thing I’ve ever ingested,” Dieter shrugs, “So how’s this work? Do I just drink it?”

Willow nods, “I said the spell, I have the scents going, all you have to do is keep an open mind,” she continues with a smile.

Dieter nods, staring at the cup. What’s the worst that could happen? His life is already fucked. At least he can say he tried if it doesn’t work, grabbing the cup and downing the drink. Willow was right- it’s rancid, he begins to cough placing the cup back on the table.

“Now what?” Dieter asks with a grimace, glancing at Willow.

“Now,” a grin spreads across her face, “We wait.”

- - -

The sun’s rays shone through the curtains causing Dieter to wince as he woke the next morning. How was he supposed to know if the ritual worked? Willow said they just had to wait. Wait for what though? Hearing a soft groan next to him he peeked one eye open at the sound, looking around he noticed this wasn’t his room. Well, more so not his room anymore. The soft yellow walls and white curtains had all been replaced after you left with dark grays.

Glancing next to him, he felt like his heart stopped. There you were, snoring softly next to him. Maybe he was dreaming and his mind decided to torture him, it wouldn’t be the first time it had happened but then you reached for him. Your hand laying on his chest above his heart. Dieter didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, shout with joy or all three at the same time. His palm reaches out, gently touching your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers to your sleeping form as he rubs the apple of your cheek with his thumb, “I was such a fucking idiot.”

You crinkle your nose and let out a huff as you sleep. A grin plastered across his face, he can’t believe it actually worked. If he ever sees Willow again he’s going to have to thank her. She may not know what for, with traveling back in time, but he’ll thank her anyway.

“You’re staring,” you let out a sleepy grumble.

“Can’t help it,” Dieter whispers, grinning like an idiot. You open an eye to look at him, raising your brows.

“Why are we whispering?” You giggle, scooting closer to lay your head on his chest, listening to the thump of his heartbeat.

Dieter takes a deep breath into your hair, shrugging his shoulders, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight. Afraid if he loosens his grip you’ll be gone again. His hands begin to roam under your shirt, feeling the softness of your skin, the roundness of your belly. You’re still pregnant, grinning to himself as he sits up and moves you to lay on your back, rubbing his hands down to your hips. You’d always complained of them hurting with the added weight of Peanut, their little Lexi who would be coming into this world.

“Mmm,” you let out a soft moan, as his hands gingerly massage your hips, your fingers digging into his thigh, “Dieter.”

He couldn’t stop smiling, unable to believe this is actually happening again. Being with you, being back in your shared home, being here during the happiest time of his life. Dieter leans over your belly, pulling up your shirt to expose your bump, placing a soft kiss there.

“I love you,” he breathes out, his voice cracking before trying to get a grip on his emotions.

“Babe?” You ask, concern lacing your voice as you reach for him, “What’s wrong?”

“Missed you,” he says, kissing your bump again, “Both of you.”

“Babe,” you laugh, “All we did was go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Dieter huffs, rolling his eyes, “Just went to sleep,” he hums, lifting your shirt more to uncover your breasts, his lips placing a trail of open mouthed kisses until he meets one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth. You let out a soft hiss as your fingers tangle in the soft waves of his hair. There’s one thing Dieter knows he can’t fuck up, sex. He’ll figure the rest out later.

You moan as he spends equal time on each of your breasts, sliding a hand down your front into your underwear. Dieter lets out a groan when he feels the wetness already collected there. He needs this, to you it was yesterday, to him it’s been six years since he’s felt you around his cock.

“I need you,” Dieter grunts, pushing you on your side, flopping down behind you and pushing his boxers down. His stiff member pushing into your ass.

“Jesus, Dee,” you giggle as he quickly pushes your underwear down enough to get to your core, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please don’t,” he whispers into your neck, slipping his length between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Dieter grips his dick, slowly pushing into you, simultaneous moans spilling from both of you.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, throwing your head back against his shoulder, “So fucking big.”

Dieter pants, feeling your walls constrict around him, stopping himself when he’s fully sheathed inside of you. He doesn’t want this to end before it’s even begun.

“Oh god,” he whimpers, grabbing your hand, lacing your fingers together, “Missed this.”

“Dieter,” you pant, hips squirming against him, “I need you to move, baby.”

He nods against your head, slowly pulling out, his tongue laving against your pulse point as he sharply pushes back in.

“Fuck,” you cry out, gripping his hand tighter. He knows it’s your favorite so he keeps the same rhythm, pulling out slowly before plunging back in. He can’t stop the words flowing from his mouth as he thrusts into you. His pace grows quicker as he speaks.

“Please don’t leave me,”

“I need you,”

“I love you,”

“I won’t fuck up again,”

“I promise,”

“I love you.”

Every phrase punctuated with a sharp thrust into your wet heat, producing a moan from your lips.

“Dieter,” you moan, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna-“

Dieter can feel the fluttering of your walls, gripping you tighter he moves faster, unable to control himself any longer.

“Fuck,” Dieter groans, “Look at me, baby.”

Your head lolling against his shoulder as his hips snap into you, he grips your face turning you to face him. Slotting his lips over yours, smothering your cries as your orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dieter grunts, grinding his hips into you as your walls constrict around him, warm ropes of his come painting your insides. He kisses you softly while both of you try to catch your breath.

“You okay?” You ask, eyes gazing up at him.

Dieter nods, keeping his arms wrapped around you.

“Bad dream,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I’m sorry babe,” you give him a sympathetic smile, giving him a quick kiss before moving off of him with a hiss, “Wanna go look at stuff for the nursery?”

“Hmm,” Dieter hums, wrapping his arms around you again before you can leave the bed, “Let’s stay in bed all day.”

“We just woke up,” you squeak out with a giggle, as he pulls you back against him, “Already need a nap?”

“After that workout?” He laughs, kissing your neck, “Uh… yeah!”

Dieter’s eyelids are heavy. He felt calm, more at peace than he has been for years, having you back in arms, the comforting weight of you next to him. The hint of your perfume surrounding him, causing him to quickly drift back to sleep.

- - -

“Dieter wake up!” Mark shouts, “Time to go.”

Dieter jumps, how long had he been asleep? The room is dark as Mark flings the gray curtains open allowing the sun to burst in.

“What the fuck?” Dieter groans, covering his face with the pillow next to him, blocking the sun from his eyes. His sleep-addled brain hasn’t registered what’s happened.

“Come on, man,” Mark says more sternly, grabbing the covers to pull off of Dieter, “Gotta get Peanut.”

“Peanut?” Dieter asks, flipping the pillow off his face, sitting up taking in his surroundings, “No, no, no. This isn’t right.”

He looks around at the gray bedding, the curtains, the walls. Where’s your house? He was just there, wasn’t he? Was it just a dream after all?

“Yes. Peanut,” Mark says, giving him a confused look, “Lexi, Your daughter.”

“I know who Peanut is, Mark.” Dieter snaps, “But she won’t let me see her.”

“Dieter,” Mark scolds, “Do not tell me you've been using again.”

“What? No!”

“You’ve had your daughter every other week for years now.” Mark explains, “Are you sure you're not using anything?”

“You mean, I have custody?” Dieter asks, beginning to choke up, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

Whatever Willow did, it worked, well kind of. If Dieter had some sort of custody of Lexi that means he must have changed something going back in time.

“I gotta go see Willow.”

“Willow?” Mark asks, shaking his head, “Dieter, you don’t have time to go on some wild goose chase looking for whoever it is you’re talking about.”

Dieter rushes out of bed, grabbing random clothes he finds throughout his room to throw on, running down the stairs to find his crocs.

“Dieter!” Mark shouts after him.

“I gotta fix it, Mark,” Dieter yells back, finding his car keys, and opening the front door, “I gotta fix it!”

—

“Willow!” Dieter bellows, bursting into Vixen’s, “It worked! It kind of worked!”

He hears a crash a couple aisles over and a gah-damnit!, before Willow appears at the front of the shop.

“The hell you comin’ in here yellin’ about?” Willow asks, rubbing the top of her head, “You made me drop a jar of Dragon’s blood on my damn head. I do not need any more feminine power right now!”

“Sorry,” Dieter chuckles, “I think we need to do the ritual again. I have custody!”

“Custody?” Willow asks, confused.

“Custody of my kid, Willow!” Dieter says, gripping her shoulders giving her a little shake, “All I did was fall asleep, had a crazy vivid sex dream about my girl and now I have custody! I’ve never even met my daughter!”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Willow says, wiggling out of his grip, “Don’t touch me and I don’t wanna hear about your weird sex dreams but come on back.”

He follows her through the dark hall, to her office, the white sage and mullein is lit, the tea is brewed while Willow chants the magic words. He chugs it again. The warm liquid tingled in his throat as it went down.

“Not as bad the second time,” he sputters out through a cough, “Should you make extra so I can take it home?”

“Not how it works,” Willow chuckles, “Gonna have to come see me. Door will always be open.”

“I don’t understand how this is working at all,” Dieter admits, “All I did was go to sleep?”

“Maybe in your sleep is when you’re traveling,” Willow shrugs, “I won’t lie, I’m not sure how it works either. Remember, I’m new at this.”

—

Dieter leaves Vixen’s, feeling on top of the world as he makes his way to your house. He cannot believe he’s about to see his kid for the first time, well maybe not the first time but it is for this Dieter. He pulls up to the address he found saved into his phone under your name, taking a deep breath before getting out of his car.

He makes his way to the front door. It’s a different house than the last time he showed up, hoping you’d forgive him for running off and taking forever to get his shit together. Taking a deep breath he presses the doorbell, hearing the chime inside.

“Daddy!” He hears screeched from behind the door before it opens. A little girl looks up at him with wide brown eyes and soft curls.

“You came to get me!” She exclaims, grabbing his hand with both of her little ones and pulling him through the entrance.

“Y-yeah, I did,” Dieter murmurs, unable to stop staring at the back of her head. Her hair bounces with every step she takes as she continues babbling at him about something.

“Hey Dieter,” you smile at him from the couch with a book in your hand, “She’s been super excited for you to get her this week. Thank you again for keeping her an extra week.”

“Extra week?”

“Please don’t tell me you forgot,” you groan, “Dee, you promised me you wouldn’t forget! This is super important! Joel’s taking me to meet his family.”

“Joel?” Dieter asks, clenching his jaw, fingers flexing of his free hand against his thigh. Of course, Joel is still present.

You study his face, taking in the tension rolling off him in waves, putting your book down and getting off the couch.

“Peanut, baby,” you say in a sweet tone, “Why don’t you go upstairs and get your stuff ready so you can go have fun at Daddy��s?”

“Okay,” she chirps, climbing the steps to the second floor. Leaving the two of you alone.

“Dee?” You ask, approaching him, “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Dieter lies with a nod of his head, “Just forgot you have plans next week.”

“Look,” you start, gripping his hand, “I know this whole thing is weird for you but I know one day you’re going to find someone to love,” Dieter’s thumb begins to rub against your fingers softly, noting the absence of a ring on your hand.

“You don’t get it,” Dieter scoffs, shaking his head, “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

“We tried Dieter,” you say, giving him a sympathetic smile, “We just aren’t meant to be.”

- - -

When he wakes next, Dieter is blinded by the brightness of the room, closing his eyes again, not ready to get up.

“Daddy,” a little voice says, poking his cheek with tiny fingers.

He groans feeling a weight on top of his chest. He can hear you humming softly downstairs in the kitchen, little fingers continue poking at his face trying to wake him.

“Peanut,” he chuckles, “Why are you poking my face?”

“Time to wake up!” She announces, standing up on chunky legs before plopping her butt back down. Dieter lets out a grunt before opening his eyes, spotting the soft yellow walls of the room. He can’t stop the smile forming on his face. He’s back to where he wants to be, this timeline seeming to be much better than the present.

“Come here,” Dieter playfully growls, tickling Lexi’s sides. Her high pitched squeals echoing throughout the house.

“Breakfast is ready!”

“Hear that Peanut?!” Dieter asks enthusiastically, “Momma made breakfast!”

“Breakfast!” Lexi shouts, throwing her arms up in the air, “I hungry!”

Dieter scoops her up as he gets out of bed, carrying the toddler with him down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Morning,” you hum, smiling at both of them, “The contractor was supposed to be here earlier but he overslept so said he’d be by soon.”

“Oh?” Dieter asks, setting Lexi down into her booster seat as if he’s done this every day, “Who’d we hire again?”

“Dieter, I swear,” you laugh, rolling your eyes, “You’d be so lost without me.”

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your head as he grabs the plates of food you had set out, giving one to Lexi and sitting down next to her to eat his own.

“It’s Miller Bros,” you huff, “And no, they’re not like the Mario Brothers from Nintendo,” you add after seeing Dieter’s head perk up. You always were good about knowing what was on his mind.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Dieter asks, stabbing his fork into the eggs, “Besides the contractor coming, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging. The rest of the meal went on, the scraping of silverware against plates and random chatter from Lexi the only things to be heard. It was eerie how quiet you were, Dieter stared at you as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. He can’t pinpoint what’s going on but he feels there is something different here. Lexi finishes her breakfast, scooting off her booster and running off to watch TV.

“Is everything okay?” Dieter asks, fidgeting with the fork in his hand, he can’t risk losing you but he needs to know the answer.

“No,” you admit quietly, “I just- I don’t know what to do anymore Dee.”

“What do you m-“ he tries, the doorbell chiming interrupting his sentence.

“That must be the contractor,” you sigh, “Wanna start the dishes while I get the door?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dieter nods, ��Sure.”

He gathers the dishes, rinsing each item before putting them in the dishwasher, hearing you speak with the contractor.

“I’m so sorry ma’am,” the contractor says with a gruffness in his voice, “Would’a been here earlier but my idiot brother wrote the time down wrong.”

“No worries,” you reply in a cheery tone, “You deserve the extra sleep, you work so hard.”

Dieter hears a deep chuckle from the man and a thank you, you’re too kind darlin’. It makes his stomach twist, he knows who this is. Joel fucking Miller. Can he not escape this guy?

Dieter slams the dishwasher closed, pacing throughout the kitchen. In his present time, the man is there. Now in his supposed past the man shows up too?! He wishes he could call Willow but a quick google search shows that Vixen’s doesn’t exist just yet, groaning as he tosses his phone onto the counter. What is he supposed to do?

He sees through the doorway how you look at Joel, the sparkle in your eyes, the way you seem almost bashful as Joel continues to talk about the most mundane things. Dieter can’t help the idea that’s popped into his head as he makes his way to the couch, sitting with your shared daughter as she watches cartoons.

It wouldn’t be the craziest thing he suggested, he’s Dieter Bravo. He’s definitely said worse things in interviews. He continues watching the two of you, the slight smirk on Joel’s face, the shy smile gracing your own.

Maybe if you fucked Joel you’d get it out of your system.

Dieter sees the attraction to Joel, of course he does. He’s rough, burly, and has that southern charm about him. The way his shirt hugs his biceps, his jeans clinging to his thighs. Joel clears his throat and Dieter snaps his head up, finding Joel staring directly at him, having been caught ogling he can feel his face turning a shade darker. You smile at Dieter, covering your mouth while a giggle escapes your lips.

“I’m gonna get started on the bathroom,” Joel says, eyeing Dieter on the couch, “Don’t let me interrupt your morning, Hollywood,” he adds with a wink.

You make your way to the couch, curling into Dieter’s side.

“So,” you giggle, with that sparkle still in your eyes, “Joel, huh?”

“Joel,” Dieter smirks, wrapping his arm around you, nodding his head. He brings you closer to his side, kissing your temple, before he scoops Lexi into his other side, keeping both his girls close to him.

- - -

“Dieter,” Mark says, giving Dieter’s shoulder a shove, “Need to wake up, you’re home.”

“Home?” Dieter grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face, he feels metal on one of his fingers. Eyes popping open, he spots a band on his left hand. Married. He’s married?

“Yeah, home,” Mark chuckles, “And don’t worry. I took care of everything so the three of you could spend some time together for the next couple days.”

Dieter grins, saying your name out loud quizzically, he needs to make sure it worked this time. Mark nods, he gets to spend time with his girls. His girls. Dieter hops out of the car, grabbing the duffle bag from the backseat.

“Thanks for the ride Mark,” he hollers as he makes his way to his front door, shaking with nerves as he stands there. Taking a deep breath he opens the door to find the house covered in darkness, flipping on the light he takes in the room before him. Toys, books, and small shoes scattered around. His smile grows wider as he hears a noise from upstairs.

You must be upstairs waiting for him. Dieter sets his duffle bag down next to the door before flinging his crocs off on his way up the stairs. The door of the master bedroom is opened by a jar and he can hear grunts coming from within.

Fuck, Dieter thinks, manly grunts can only mean one thing.

He tiptoes to the door opening it more, seeing you naked on your knees before Joel. His thick cock in your mouth as you bob your head faster along his length.

“S’it baby,” Joel groans, throwing his head back as you take more of him down your throat, “So fucking good at that.”

You’re moaning as he grips your head, holding you on his cock.

“Fuck,” Dieter whispers, feeling his dick twitch with interest, watching you gag on Joel’s length. Joel’s head snaps towards the doorway.

“Ya just gonna stand there Hollywood or ya gon’ join?” Joel smirks, eyeing Dieter up and down, “We’ve missed you.”

You moan, pulling off Joel's cock with a soft pop, twisting your body to see Dieter.

“Hi baby,” you purr at him, “Glad that you’re home.”

Dieter stands there frozen, watching you stroke Joel’s shaft with a sly grin.

This present time is nice, Dieter thinks with a smirk on his face, I can live with this.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #daddy dieter goodness #dieter bravo fic rec #dieter bravo one shot fic rec

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 3 days ago

Note

how about A Gordon and Edward Analysis

Ooh yes… the OG dynamic! The first one, the foundation for everything!

(Unless you count “Edward and railwaymen”... or “Edward and coaches”... which, to be fair, I do…)

These two are insane (affectionate). Hot take but this may be the saddest relationship on the N.W.R.?* They’re my two bestest boys but, man. Their dynamic is fucked. Edward and James are nothing compared to this. Gordon and Henry are healthy, relatively.

tl;dr: They need couples counseling.

Jobey, aren't you being a little dramatic?

Am I? Take my hand. Let's do a close read…

* This is going to focus on RWS (not tv series). Right now and for the rest of this post, I’m going to be talking strictly from the Wilbert books (and, thus, analyzing their relationship from the ‘20s to the ‘60s only) unless I specify otherwise

Part 1 (this post): Gordon, what's your damage? 😭 / The Doylist Reason / Rent. Free.

Post 2 (upcoming post, link later): Edward's Defences / Gordon's Growth

Post 3 (upcoming post, link later): Collision / Uh… Cleanup Crew?

tagging @weirdowithaquill because you asked for Edward+James and i wound up folding in most of what i have to say about them into this analysis 😅 in RWS they're a good foil for understanding Edward+Gordon

Gordon, what's your damage? 😭

There is a strong drive, right here on ttteblr, to portray how despite some notorious conflicts these two are canonically old friends. Also that maybe Gordon’s bad behavior is not so bad.

That is a valid mission, indeed I flatter myself that I had some influence steering us down this road a few years back, however sometimes I think we're in danger of forgetting how often Gordon really has just been like… This:

"You watch me this afternoon, little Edward," he boasted, "as I rush through with the Express; that will be a splendid sight for you." (1923)

“I’ve done it! I’ve done it! I’ve done it!” he said proudly, and forgot all about Edward pushing behind. He didn’t wait to say “Thank you”... (1923)

Edward puffed and pulled, and pulled and puffed, but he couldn’t move the heavy coaches. / “I told you so,” said Gordon rudely. (1923)

So Edward found coaches for the three engines, and that day the trains ran as usual. / But when The Fat Controller came the next morning, Edward looked unhappy. / Gordon came clanking past, hissing rudely. “Bless me!” said The Fat Controller. “What a noise!” (1926-1934) *

When Gordon and Henry heard about the accident, they laughed and boasted. “Fancy allowing cows to break his train! They wouldn’t dare do that to us. We’d show them!” they boasted. (1952)

“The Fat Controller would never approve,” said Gordon loftily. “Branch Lines are vulgar.” (1965)

Edward scolded the twins severely, but told Gordon it served him right. Gordon was furious. / A few days later, some Enthusiasts came. On their last afternoon they went to the China Clay Works. / Edward found it hard to start the heavy train… / “Just pathetic,” grunted Gordon. “He should give up and be Preserved before it’s too late.” (1965) **

I am sportingly not even saddling Gordon with the blame for the line "Driver won't choose you again. He wants strong engines like us." (In TTRE, this is said by the collective of big engines – although the illustrations do clearly point a finger at Gordon. Still, like I said, I'm going to be sporting. The pictures aren't canon.) Also note that in RWS Gordon doesn't say "No use at all" when he learns Edward has come to push his train; that whole bit of dialogue was something Britt and David cooked up.

Even being as generous as possible, this still leaves us with… seven. Seven instances of Gordon taking a shot at Edward.

That’s actually quite a… lot?

I mean, not necessarily if we were racking up all the complaints, ranging from major to miniscule, that you’d have about someone you’d lived and worked with for over 40 years, lol.

But we shouldn’t actually be expecting a complete inventory at all. RWS books are minimalist on detail. There's just so much less in 'em than the sprawling TVS with its 24 full series, lol. And let’s focus here on just the Wilbert canon, since that’s where all these examples of Gordon being rude to Edward come from. Seven times, in 26 books. For context, the number of times Thomas teases Gordon in this same corpus is… three. Three times. Thomas cheeking Gordon. Also kind of a fundamental dynamic. THRICE!

Passengers saying What a Bad Railway It Was… two. Number of times Thomas and Percy squabble… three. Number of accidents that Percy gets into (and this includes the piddling stuff, like crashing into that wagon of flour that was left on the rails)… five. Reflect on that for a moment: Gordon is a dick to Edward in canon more often than Percy's had an accident. That's crazy. Indeed, there are plenty of RWS characters who are canonically friends or who shed together who don't even get to have seven shared moments. It's actually kind of a fun game, to try to think of any two of them who, like Gordon and Edward, have seven of a specific kind of interaction. Have at it! There has to be something I've missed.

But I hope it's clear, that by the standards of these books this character dynamic is hit A LOT. You know me, I'm going to go on to contextualize a lot of these seven examples, and I'm going to play Gordon defense attorney to a certain degree, and plead mitigation. But I can't possibly explain away the sheer size of this pile of evidence. This specific dynamic is not meant to be overlooked. It's not meant to be minimized.

This is a big inescapable part of what their relationship is.

The Doylist Reason

Now, in fairness, the meta reason this dynamic is so pervasive and repeated is that it's The Template.

“Big braggadocious engine needs help from humble plucky little engine” was trite before The Three Railway Engines was published. This is not a slam; I’m not gonna get on another parent’s case about the story they improvised for their kid because “it relies on cliches.” But it’s just a fact: Edward and Gordon, to begin with, are simply THE foundational cliche of “anthropomorphic train” media.

One of the reasons the RWS (and the whole subsequent TTTE juggernaut) is so successful is because it features so many creative variations on this template. Most of the relationships are just "okay so one of them is the Gordon, and one of them is the Edward, but this time there's a twist!" (This is how you get Thomas as the big breakout character – because the Thomas and Gordon variation is a lot less cliched, and a lot more fun.)

Just an observation.

Now, Awdry did keep writing the OGs again and again and again, for a couple'a decades, and he developed them both quite a bit. So by the end of his run we do have a very elaborate Jenga tower built on this template. Loads of fun* to be had yet. So let's jump right back into analyzing this shit in-universe.

* For certain definitions of fun 😈

Rent. Free.

The first thing I wanted you to note about Gordon’s Edward-directed crimes was that there were a lot of them.

The second thing I want you to note is that… these are, perhaps, not all so very criminal?

Some of it is – the group harassment about the strikebreaking and the “Just pathetic!” bit (more on both of those later). But a lot of the rest of it strikes me as more the results of being blunt or un-self-aware or even just plain boisterous than actively choosing to bully anyone. In particular, the early stuff, the Three Railway Engines stuff on which the whole foundation of their relationship is laid…

"You watch me this afternoon, little Edward," he boasted, "as I rush through with the Express; that will be a splendid sight for you." (1923)

Condescending. Tone-deaf. Belittling (literally). But… not actually spiteful?

“I’ve done it! I’ve done it! I’ve done it!” he said proudly, and forgot all about Edward pushing behind. He didn’t wait to say “Thank you”... (1923)

That's not cool, but it's also not… that bad.

At the point where The Three Railway Engines ends with the claim "all three engines are now great friends," it's like, sure. You can see that. Indeed you can see it much more easily for Gordon and Edward than you could with Gordon and Henry – Gordon's behavior toward the latter (though in a similar vein of "kick a fellow when he's down") was much more extreme, and Henry's behavior was so bizarre that you hardly know what to expect from him next. (What you don't expect is that those two will be joined at the hip for the next thirty years.) By contrast the Edward and Gordon relationship should be kinda easy, the former's really nice so the latter just has to remember some basic manners and they should be okay. Right?

But that's not how it goes. Partly of course because Gordon has much more out-of-pocket shit in him than he ever displayed in TTRE. But I'm going to set aside some of the more severe tests that Gordon makes of these friendships till later – stuff like punishing Edward for breaking his tender engine strike and "Just pathetic!" (not to mention all the needling of Henry around the Flying Kipper accident). Setting that aside, Gordon's original sin is simply being a dumb, self-centered, out-of-touch rich jock. Yes, he’s consistently “rude,” but usually more in an ignorant, superior, “I cannot be bothered to try not/learn how to prevent myself giving offense” sort of way than an aggressive, malicious “hurting you for fun and profit” sort of way. In contrast to, say, James. Whose behavior really is consistently mean. And who is hurtful on purpose, because he’s having a bad day and tearing someone else down is how he copes. James insults; Gordon (except in those couple of asterisked cases that we’re tabling for later discussion) merely boasts. And it’s really quite interesting to me how Edward seems to have much less problem with the former than with the latter!

Because he does have a problem with it. We know, because for most of this long list of incidents the source must be… him.

This is a series where canonically the Author is a human “friend of the railway,” collecting and publishing these stories in order to publicize the railway to the world. This is something that really can’t be forgotten when reading these (indeed, thanks to the “Author’s Note” each time, the books will not let you forget it). The narrator is canonically a figure in this universe, and is not omniscient.

And, when it comes to the Edward/Gordon dynamic, the Author’s point of view is consistently collapsing into Edward’s point of view.

Certain times when the narrator editorializes about details, we can be pretty sure, are lifted straight from Edward’s take on the moment (and, if not Edward’s, then The Fat Controller’s, which to be frank is also roughly aligned):

Edward puffed and pulled, and pulled and puffed, but he couldn’t move the heavy coaches. / “I told you so,” said Gordon rudely. (1923)

That Gordon said that, I don’t doubt. That the adverb is necessary, or even correct? That’s… that’s interpretative. I totally understand why Edward and TFC, respectively, took it that way, but I’m not 100% convinced it was meant that way, nor that everyone else on scene regarded it as much more than Gordon glumly colour-commentating the group effort to recover from his breakdown. Is he being ‘rude’? Or is he merely too blunt for North Western sensibilities?

Anyway, even if ‘rude’ is the correct interpretation, it is again worth noting that it’s certainly not part of the narrative as Gordon would have been telling the story in the 1940s. (The 1940s! It's over twenty years later! And Edward is getting his side of the thing in fuckin' print… Big win, that.)

So, if we agree that Edward is the source the Author primarily relies on for these 2+4 scenes, what does this show us? Well, for one, I'd say it shows us that Edward may ‘forgive’ all this but he is certainly not forgetting one bit of it. Indeed the narrative’s repeated return to this dynamic almost certainly mirrors how much room Gordon’s superior attitude occupies in Edward’s headspace.

Which is kinda wild. There's no evidence Edward is petty by nature, if anything there's a lot that suggests the opposite. Gordon getting this far under his paint is… something of an achievement.

But we can see how he managed:

Even discounting the illustration. Even if Gordon isn’t the speaker. He was one of Them. The other big engines who tormented Edward may have been worse, were probably worse, but they are gone and Gorson remains, an eternal reminder of 1922-3. Of the primordial period when Gordon has the power, Edward doesn't. Gordon is on top of their world; Edward is left alone in a shed, cut off from all his former friends and supporters, afraid for his life, roundly denigrated by the engines he lives with, and quite possibly lost his previous job directly in favor of Gordon. Who, at best, is careless and oblivious. Who, at worst, is belittling and rude.

Ouch.

Gordon's arrival is still bound up, probably even the direct cause, of one of the most miserable and humiliating year of Edward's life. And – maliciously or not – everything about how Gordon conducts himself only serves to keep tearing again at that wound.

Ouch.

If Edward were to write off Gordin as a potential friend till the end of time, well, you know, it would be valid. Not very "wise" or anything, but it’d be understandable.

To be clear, I don't think this is what happens. I'm not going to argue that the famous line from the end of TTRE is a lie, some sort of diplomatic fiction. No, Gordon and Edward quickly make a go at genuine friendship. Indeed, throughout all this mess, even as I analyze it in excruciating detail… there's something kind of touching and weirdly wholesome about the way that they both try so hard to make it work despite the headwinds against them. Edward (and Gordon, for that matter) make sincere efforts to overcome the wounds they have inflicted on each other's egos. Kudos, lads.

However, I also don't agree with a vast assumption on the part of many fans that Edward solves the issue by simply… rising above. Puts aside his own ego, takes a pacifist approach to all the jockeying for position, acts purely as mentor, just sits on the moral high ground and philosophically accepts everything as it is.

This is canonically nonsense. Yes, Edward was passive in his first-ever story – he was at the end of the line; he needed someone to give him a damn break before he even had options – he doesn't actually remain passive after that, though. Indirect (he’s allergic to conflict), but not passive. We see very clearly that Edward may be judging status by a bit of a different yardstick than Gordon et. al., he doesn’t think picking up the slack on secondary or support jobs is a source of shame and his relative physical weakness drives him to find different ways to distinguish himself, but, like, when it comes to points-scoring, he’s still very much in the game. Of course his first priority is just to be wanted and useful at all, but that is not the end of it. Edward is competitive, with a proper amount of pride (“Good! Don’t let them beat you”) and he has normal engine-y desires and ambitions (“Look at me!”). ‘Course, in his case they don’t drive him to make a straight-up nuisance of himself. But, still. It matters to him that he gets to be the Smartest Engine in the Shed. It matters to him that he has nice blue wheels. It matters to him that he’s important, it matters to him that he’s respected, and he’s quite as pleased to get important jobs as any other engine (even if he doesn’t begrudge an engine who gets a jammier job than him). When canon kicks off no driver at Vicarstown has laid a claim on Edward, Topham Hatt has just succeeded some previous General Manager and shows no sign of knowing or remembering that Edward exists, and Edward has nothing – no job and no allies. It is not an accident that all three of those things change. It’s not even merely a natural karmic reward for being a nice, humble engine with a winsome smile. Edward set out to earn recognition. His main method (be helpful and reliable to others) is admirable, but it is also a means to a goal (be recognized as important and ensure he's never again stuck in the sheds). And he succeeds wildly. There’s luck there, sure - there always is, with success - but he didn’t have a lot of natural advantage at his tender, either. What I’m saying is that he’s not some innocent unworldly soul who aww-shucks’d his way into it. He meant for this to happen. He played smart and he worked hard for it – but, like, he had to know what it was he wanted.

Am I belaboring this point? Maybe. But I feel like so many people only see Edward as nothing more than a dutiful, responsible, maybe even stuffy oldster with at most an occasional twinkle of fun in his eye and, hell, often that’s not even a big problem (though I think it sells short later characters who arrive and who are ACTUALLY more unambitious and above-it-all than Edward - for instance, I think Donald and Douglas are actually our first tender engines who show up and legitimately just never once give a shit about their status, at least not beyond the status of ‘alive’ vs. ‘dead’). But I think it IS a problem, that it does lead you wrong, when you bring that assumption to bear on Edward’s relationship with Gordon. Edward never "mentors" Gordon. It’s a fundamentally competitive relationship. Oh, maybe it shouldn’t be! It shouldn’t be, because Edward is not jealous by nature and so if Gordon were halfway chill himself it never would have been. And it shouldn’t be, because Gordon so easily outclasses Edward that there should be no reason for Gordon to ever get jealous, either. But they both manage, somehow. Edward’s not just benignly pulling a quarter out of Gordon’s ear every so often, to gently remind him that Gordon doesn’t know everything yet. He might have settled into this role, if Gordon hadn’t scared the existential shit out of him throughout the ‘20s, but Gordon did and so Edward didn’t. Edward’s in it to win it, babe! He accepts that his express days are over, but he’s not willing to be told he never again gets a cut of the cake, either – and, when Gordon snubs him, Edward is not just rising above the fray and letting it go. They’re always playing tug-of-war.

To reiterate: I don't think Edward is faking friendship after Gordon's failed express. He's really working on it – and he might have had more success letting go of the previous wounds Gordon inflicted on his ego – if only Gordon had stopped that sort of shit, going forward!

But that's asking too much. It's still the 1920s, baby; Gordon's gonna Gordon; so what's a little tender engine to do?

#tune in next time #(tomorrow)#(there will be lots more CLOSE TEXTUAL ANALYSIS tomorrow 😈)#ttte #chatter #ttte analysis #the railway series #ttte edward #ttte gordon #ttte james #(he really said 'why am i NOT in it?')#(i caved. quickly. like a sucker.)#ttte henry #(he wanted to be left out of it but absolutely could not be)#2+4 #3+4 #2+5 #long post #minty ty so much for this ask. working on it has left me even more Normal about these guys than i originally was! ! !💯😃👍

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aticklishpercivalwriter · 2 days ago

Text

Is Scaramouche Secretly a lee? (fic)

Tickletober 2024 - Day 5: (Un)tie

Links to Artworks: Sethos (@shikaEin), Wanderer (@wa_bx55091), Durin (@mogyiu)

Summary: Durin is curious about whether or not Wanderer is ticklish or not. Sethos, being the good boyfriend he is, shines some light on the matter.

A/N: I’ll be honest, I think this year’s TickleTober will be sitting quite a while in wip. If I participate in TickleTober next year, it will probably be a weekly thing instead of per day. Happy that I got this one out eventually though :) Besides that, no other notes so just relax and enjoy reading this fic!

Inspiration: Special thanks to @chibimochii’s SethoScara tickle art and @rachi-roo’s pass-the-lee game. Didn’t realize how much I really wanted to see Scara get tickled :P (Also these works put me in a lee mood but let’s just ignore that 😅)

Word Count: 2191 (honestly didn’t expect it to be this long, got carried away, whoops) Also on AO3!

—

Wanderer and Sethos were in the living room, Scara sitting on Sethos’s lap, purring in content as the latter carded his hands through his hair. No words needed to be said to know that they both wanted this and to bask in each other’s presence as the others did their thing.

“Hat Guy!” Their cheerful little dragon flew in with curiousness in his eyes as he hovered beside them.

“I told you not to call me that,” Scara huffed, patting his head gently. “We’re close now so call me by what the others call me.”

“So, can I call you babygirl?”

Wanderer stared at him in disbelief and Sethos burst out laughing.

“Ahahahaha!”

“No, you can’t that-”

He caught Durin’s eyes and saw a playful look in them and it struck him as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Sethos, you are a bad influence.”

Sethos only laughed harder.

“Why ahahare youhu blahaming mehehe?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you and Durin are teaming up on me,” he said, glaring at the two.

“Nooooo, we weren’t. Right, Durin?”

“Yeah!”

After a beat passed, Scara sighed again.

“You two are insufferable. What did you need anyway, Durin?”

“Oh yeah! I wanted to ask if you are ticklish.”

Wanderer was surprised yet again while Sethos laughed his ass off behind him.

“Seth, you are doing this on purpose!”

“Nohohoho! I swehehear I’m nohohot! Nohohot this tihihime!”

“I’m just curious!” Durin chirped. “I always see you tickling Sethos and the others being tickled but not you. So, are you ticklish?”

He looked at Wanderer and then Sethos curiously.

“Oh, he is ticklish,” Sethos smirked, grabbing onto his wrists and holding them above his head.

“What? Wait, stop! You stupid bee, let me go!”

“Believe it or not, he doesn’t mind being a lee,” he continued, ignoring him.

Scara was glaring daggers at Sethos trying to pull his arms down and Sethos knew full well what his glare meant. I’m so going to wreck you later when we are alone. Will he suffer? Yes. Will it be worth it? Oh yeah. Any chance to wreck his boyfriend is an opportunity he will take, no matter the consequences.

“A lee?” Durin asked, confused before lighting up with realization. “Oh! So, the one who is being tickled, like you all the time!”

It was Sethos’s turn to blush as Scara snickered.

“Y-Yeah, like what you said but enough about me and more about this lee right here,” putting the attention back to Scara. “Two things you will learn today, Durin. One, Scara is ticklish and two, he actually likes to be the lee no matter how much he denies it.”

“Those are not true,” he denied. “Durin don’t believe whatever he is saying. It isn’t truehe-mmph!”

Scara bit his lip when he felt Sethos trail his fingers along his side. Shaking his head in silent denial and squirming as he tried to pull his arms down.

“Durin.”

“Yeah?”

“Hold on to his wrists for me.”

“Okay,” he says, flying over and taking Scara’s wrists in his soft claws.

“No!”

Scara shook his head at Durin, gently tugging at his wrists and trying to slip out of his grip.

“Should I let him go or…”

“Nope, just keep him trapped. You trust me, right?”

Durin looked between the two before looking back at Sethos and nodding his head. The look of betrayal on Scara’s eyes almost made Sethos laugh but he held it in and went to kiss his lover’s cheek in compensation and patted Durin’s head.

“Alright, watch closely~”

“How many times do I have to tell you both that I’m not tihi-mph!”

Scara clamped his mouth shut, jumping in surprise when Sethos squeezed his sides and slid his fingers up and down over and over again.

“What was that honey?” Sethos dipped his head down, whispering into his ears. “Not what? Why don’t you tell us what you were about to say?” Sethos teased, challenging him.

Scara stayed silent, glaring at him with an annoyed scowl and defiantly shaking his head.

“Playing tough guy, aren’t you? How about if I do this?”

Sethos crawled his fingers up towards his armpits making him gasp and immediately squirm and try to curl in on himself but Durin, who was surprisingly strong even though he was small, kept him from doing so as his arms were kept over his head, leaving Sethos to explore the smooth expanse of his hollows.

Scara’s resolve was crumbling by the second as Sethos used feather-light touches to coax a reaction out of him. It was a losing battle as each stroke of his fingers felt unbearable. The soft caresses sent goosebumps all over his body and best worst of all…he wanted more. To have Sethos whisper teases in his ear. To let go and be at his mercy as he tickled him to pieces.

“Ooh! He’s smiling!” Durin exclaimed once he saw a quirk of his lips. “But, if he is ticklish, shouldn't he be laughing by now?”

“Patience, Durin,” Sethos laughed. “He’s just being a stubborn brat holding in his laughter but that will change soon~,” he said, pinching the junction between Scara’s side and armpit, earning a squeak.

“Make sure you hold onto his wrists tightly because when I do this, he is going to let out a flood of laughter~”

“Stupid behehee, I am gohoing toho kill you lahater,” Scara whispered, trying to sound menacing but his giggling took away the effect.

“I’m sure you will, honey~”

“What are you going to do?” Durin asks.

Sethos looked back towards him, grinning.

“Just watch and learn. Get ready~”

Scara felt him going downwards and he instantly shook his head, squirming intensifying as he sent pleading gazes to both Sethos and Durin. Sethos though only grinned a devilish smirk while Durin was too fascinated by what was about to happen.

“Sehehethos! Don’t! Plehehease! I-I’ll do ahahanythihing!” he whispered into his neck.

“Anything huh?”

“Yehehes!”

“Hmm…tempting, but no. You deserve this for all the times you tickled me.”

That was the last thing Scara heard before succumbing to laughter once Sethos dove right into his hip windows.

“SEHEHETHOS! NOHOHOHO! GEHEHEHET OHOHOFF MEHEHE YOU DUHUHUMB BEHEHEE!”

“He’s ticklish!” Durin exclaimed excitedly. “Sethos, I wanna try! Let me try too! Please!”

“I’M NOHOHOT TIHIHICKLISH AND DOHOHON’T YOU DAHAHARE, SEHEHETHOS!”

“Someone’s excited to tickle the angry kitten,” Sethos chuckled, wincing once the words left his mouth. He’s going to die later, isn’t he? “Let me have my way with him for a little and I’ll let you try tickling him, okay?”

“Yay!” Durin’s eyes sparkled with delight.

“I’LL GEHEHET YOU BOHOHOTH BAHAHACK FOHOHOR THIHI- AHAHAHA!” he let out a guffaw of laughter when he felt thumbs rubbing deep circles into his hip bones. “YOUHUHU KNOHOHOW IHHIT’S BAHAHAD THEHEHERE! BWAHAHAHA!”

“That’s why I went here, my sweet honey~ You like it?”

“NOHOHOHO! STAHAHAP IHIHIT!”

“He says, arching into the fingers massaging his hips,” Sethos narrated, laughing.

“SHUHUHUT UP!” a blush making its way on his face, alongside the redness of laughing.

“I actually think you like this~ What do you think, Durin?”

“Yeah! He is laughing and smiling a lot.”

“THAHAHAT MEHEHEANS NOHOHOTHING!”

Sethos rolled his eyes. “Such a stubborn lee you are,” he says, blowing a raspberry on his neck, earning a loud squeal before pulling away completely.

“Your turn, Durin~”

“Finally!”

Sethos smiled at their dragon, taking Scara’s wrists in his again though this time, tying them up with his scarf.

“NO! Seth, you better let me go or I’ll make you suffer later.”

“How about you just admit you are ticklish and actually like this and then I’ll let you go?”

“You are a- HAHAHAhahaha! D-DurihiHIHIN! NOHOHO! Stahahap!”

Scara was defenseless against the onslaught of ticklish licks that Durin inflicted upon him. Through his cackles, Durin was taking his sweet time, enjoying the effect he was having against Scara. Meanwhile, Sethos was smirking and casually watching Durin have fun and his love trying to scrunch up his neck to no avail.

“Try his ears!”

“NOHOHO! DohOHOhon’t! Nohoho snahahacks fohohor youhuHUHUHU- NAHAHAHA!”

His pleas and threats fell upon deaf ears as Durin mischievously licked and nibbled against his ears. He squealed, shaking his head to dodge his dragon but Durin was faster, flying back and forth and switching spots randomly like a pro ler. Even Sethos was kind of feeling bad for his honey when he fell into hysterics, though just a little. Who would have thought that their dragon was a ler at heart?

“DUHUHURIN PLEHEHEASE! STAHAHAP! I’M TIHIHICKLISH! I’M TICKLISH OHOHOKAHAY! PLEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!”

Durin pulled away, grinning happily as Scara fell onto his side, curling into himself as he gasped for breath, little giggles slipping out.

“That was fun! Can we do it again?”

“Nohoho…”

“Aww, I wanna do it again though.”

“Sehethos, tell him noho.”

“Can I, pleaseee?”

Durin gave Sethos the cutest dragon eyes he can muster and Sethos gave in instantaneously. How can he deny those eyes?

“Well, how about we both tickle him? How does that sound?”

Durin cheered while Scara inwardly groaned, already inching away like a caterpillar.

“And where do you think you’re going?~”

Before Scara knew what was happening, he was yanked back, laying across Sethos’s lap and looking up at a devious bee and a gleeful dragon.

“You still haven’t told us you liked this,” Sethos teased, circling his navel with a finger.

Scara squirmed in his lap, biting back a smile.

“It’s because I don’t.”

Durin and Sethos exchanged a look.

“What? No, you both stay away. Stay awahahay! Waitwaitwahahait! NOHOHOHOHO!”

Scara dissolved into laughter, louder than before as he felt Durin’s soft claws against his armpits and Sethos’s fingers plunging into his belly button. The ticklish sensations causing his brain to short-circuit as he struggled against them half-heartedly.

“Don’t be shy. C’mon, say that you actually like this.”

“NEHEHEHEVER!”

“Tch, maybe this will encourage you then.”

Sethos started kneading his hip with one hand and scribbling across his belly with the other, occasionally dipping into his navel to scratch inside. A spike of excitement rushed through him as he threw his head back.

“BWAHAHAHA! SEHEHETHOS! I HAHAHATE YOUHUHU! GAHAHAHA!” He then felt Durin move to his other armpit, even adding little licks to his neck and making him frantically pull at his still-tied wrists.

“DURIHIHIN! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE! AHAHAHA!”

“Good job Durin!”

“YOU GUYS AREHEHE EHEHEVILLL!”

“You know how to stop this~”

Scara weighed his options in his tickle-addled brain and although he is loving the tickling, he doesn’t think his body could handle anymore.

“AHAHAHAHA! FIHIHIHINE! I LIHIHIKE THIHIHIS! THEHEHERE! NOHOHOW STAHAHAP!”

“Like what?~”

This asshole.

“YOU KNOHOHOW WHAHAHAT!”

“No, I don’t know. Do you know Durin?” Sethos winked at him.

“I don’t know,” Durin played dumb, winking back.

“I’LL KIHIHIHILL YOU BOHOHOTH!”

“Nuh uh, not if we do it first. Now Durin!”

If Scara thought they went all out before, he was certainly wrong. He exploded in laughter, jerking side to side as Sethos went to town on his hips and squeezing his thighs while Durin flew back and forth, switching tactics on the fly.

“AHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHE- NAHAHAHAHA!”

All he could do was laugh and laugh as his boyfriend and dragon sent him into ticklish heaven. He hasn’t laughed like this in a while and the giddy feeling flowing through him was making him feel like he was on cloud nine. He felt so warm inside and just what words cannot describe. However, as with all good things, they must come to an end and his body was telling him that he couldn’t handle much more.

“MEHEHE- HAHAHAHA! MERCY! MEHEHERCY! I LIHIHIHIKE- AHAHAHA! I LIKE BEHEHING THEHE LEHEHEHEE! THE LEHEHEE! PLEHEHEASE!”

They immediately stopped, Durin moving to untie his hands as Sethos massaged the residue tickles away.

“Thahahank youhuhu. Thank youhu.”

“There’s your answer Durin, he is ticklish and actually likes it~”

“Sethos, plehease shut up. It’s embarrassing. And for the record, only sometimes.”

“That was fun!” Durin excitedly said. “I want to do it again soon.”

He looked at Scara with hopeful eyes, making the latter look away.

“O-Only when I’m in the mood.”

“Yay!”

“Hey, what about me? Do I get a pass to tickle you too?”

“No. You actually will be punished and you too Durin, but just a little for you.”

“Aww, okay,” Durin sighed while Sethos gulped, weary of what his love might do but excited, nonetheless.

“But not right now. I just wanna yawn sleep.”

He snuggled up to Sethos, making Sethos’s heart melt at the sight as he laid down beside him.

“I love you,” Sethos said, kissing his forehead.

“Love you too,” Scara mumbled back, making Sethos chuckle.

“Don’t forget about me!”

Durin flew into the space between them as the two lovers wrapped their arms around each other and their dragon.

“Love you, Durin,” Scara and Sethos said in unison.

“I love you both too!”

The happiness of Durin was infectious as both Scara and Sethos smiled before closing their eyes and drifting off to sleep, Durin following suit a moment later.

This is what love feels like. My home.

—

Here’s some leftover rough planning and writing for this fic for those who like this stuff and how it all comes together :) If it seems unorganized, unformatted, wrong grammar, etc., it’s because it’s supposed to be. Rough for a reason :)

SethoScara

Living room

Scara denies being ticklish in front of Durin. Sethos proves him wrong. Tells Durin to hold Scara’s hands up. Scara’s voice wavers but doesn't back down. Durin is eager and curious, while Sethos has a devious smirk. Once it starts, Scara bites his lip to hide his smile and to hold back his giggles, gently pulling at his wrists, not wanting to hurt Durin.

Sethos grabs the Halloween decorations and wraps them around Wanderer.

Durin observes the others tickling each other, learning the words lee and ler and asks Scara if he is a lee in the presence of Sethos. Sethos bursts out laughing while Scara goes with a blunt no though a blush is visible on his cheeks. He can be a lee sometimes. Scara sends him a warning glance. Durin goes I wanna see!

Scara refuses to raise his arms, Sethos telling Durin to grab his arms when he does this. Durin says what, then Sethos says this and squeezes Scara on the sides. Making him squeal in surprise and moving his arms to protect himself but Durin was quicker and with a fellow swoop, captured his wrists and raised them above his head. Dragon strength :)

I actually think you like this. What do you think Durin.

Yeah! He is laughing and smiling a lot.

Scara weakly…

I wanna try! Lemme try! Please!

And how could Sethos refuse those pleading eyes of his as he took over restraining his boyfriend’s hands and let Durin explore.

Scara tried to sternly tell Durin not to do it but he was too excited to not try tickling him. Adding insult to injury, Sethos poked his sides as he talked, making his speech all squeaky.

I'll get you both back he said as his threats weren't working. He instinctively squirmed away from Durin as he got close.

“Stay away!” His voice wavered but Durin hesitantly backed off making his heart drop if he actually scared his baby dragon.

“I-”

“He doesn't mean it Durin. It's normal for ticklish people to say that and other stuff. He actually likes being tickled so don't hold back.”

Sethos beat him to it and he could hear that smirk in his voice. In any other situation, he would've sent a death glare to him but he sighed in relief as the scared and hesitant look disappeared from Durin’s eyes and was replaced with eagerness and curiosity.

and scara falls on to his side, trying to escape. sethos straddles him, back against the couch, durin uses his soft claws against his armpits and upper body/sides, little licks on his neck. sethos focuses on his hips again, navel, and lower sides. scara finally admits he is ticklish and likes being the lee…sometimes and they both stop. Sethos collapsing on him and hugging him turning them on their sides and Durin perching on the top/lying in the middle (they make room for him)

Fluffy ending with them in each other’s arms plus Durin OR Durin leaves and Scara and Sethos have their alone time again with Scara pushing Sethos down and Sethos thinking he is going to be tickled but instead they are making out while Scara goes, “Payback for that stunt you did. Think you can keep up?” Tickle payback eventually too…

—

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pierogipete · 9 days ago

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day 20: 2062 words

total: 43796 words

it’s definitely getter harder to keep up this writing pace, but only ten days left!

#about me #novel november #your november novel #also lost some motivation posting a chapter #honestly i dont think it went over to well #😅 but i expected that so that one is on me #points to self in the mirror #you write for You 🫵#whatever #definitely going ro hold off from posting until december i am not strong enough haha

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nattikay · 2 months ago

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Hello, my name is NattiKay, and welcome to my blog! Before you follow, there’s a thing you should know about how I do fandom.

Basically, it can take one of two forms. The first is casual fandoms—this includes various media I enjoy and will like/reblog posts about, maybe even doodle for on rare occasions. I can have several of these simultaneously.

But the second—and much more visible—is a “main” fandom, which you can also call hyperfixation or special interest if you wish. I only have one of these at a time, it lasts for years, and it pretty much takes over my life and blog during that time. Once every few years or so my brain will latch on to a new “main” fandom—I don’t know what triggers it to switch, and I have zero control over when it happens or to what.

My current special-interest fandom is Avatar (James Cameron/blue people), with a bonus mini-fixation on the Na'vi language. My favorite characters are the Sully family and much of my art focuses on them right now.

Previous special-interest fandoms that I’ve had during my time on tumblr are, in descending order of recency:

Trollhunters/Tales of Arcadia Miraculous Ladybug Inuyasha

I make this distinction to say that if you recently found this blog through fanart of one of these previous fixations and followed hoping for more, I’m sorry to say you’re going to be disappointed.

When my fixation switches, I loose interest in actively creating content for the previous fandom because all my energy gets dedicated to the new one. This does not at all mean that I no longer like the previous ones—I may still reblog posts about them here and there—just that I no longer have the inspiration to be producing a bunch of art/comics/etc for them the way I used to. They’ve essentially moved from main fandom to casual fandoms. Yes, this will happen one day for my current fixation too, though I have no way of predicting when.

I will not be offended if you follow me during one fixation and then unfollow when it switches. I will also not be offended if you recently found this blog through my old content from previous fandoms and then choose not to follow because of this post: like I said, if you follow hoping for new art from those, you’re gonna be let down 😅

#(figured I should have a new pinned post that isn’t ML-specific like the old one 😅)#still feel free to follow if you still want to of course!#just don’t be expecting new art from previous fixations #shoutout to the folks who have stuck with me through multiple fixations y’all are great; sorry for doing this to your dash lol #(to anyone who might being saying “but wait didn’t you say atla was one of your previous fixations? why isn’t that on the list?”)#(the answer is yes yes it was! but that was pre-tumblr so I doubt anyone’s gonna be finding this blog through that lol)

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mobius-m-mobius · 1 year ago

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I cannot believe that season. truly just. there was not a single episode I didn't sit down to without a genuine conviction that *this* would be the episode where they spit all over everything I loved about the show. I braced constantly throughout the episodes as they kept setting themselves up for Very Stupid story choices only to pull the rug and go "HAHA surprise, idiot!!! We've given you exactly what you wanted <3". until the final episode which was NOT what I wanted and also exponentially better storytelling and character development than any of the ideal scenarios I'd constructed.

something deeply meta about it all. truly a chaos season for the chaos god, where the most chaotic, unexpected, transformative thing they can do is to be good.

Spent the day processing my love for this season only to have your message sum my thoughts and feelings up perfectly, thank you so very much for sending it 💖

Same as you, not for a second did I go in truly expecting anything from s2. Owen and Mobius have my heart, always will, so primarily the show was a vehicle to provide whatever crumbs of his scenes and chemistry with Tom I could get and with the start of every episode I braced for the moment that would get ruined in some way, only to be continually hit with everything I've ever wanted in a show or pairing right up until the finale. Which, while not what I would've chosen, was beautifully crafted and an almost Shakespearean tragic romance that will haunt me for the rest of my days and is still infinitely better than the nightmare scenarios I'd been floating around in my mind so at least there's that and it's impossible not to be thankful for eps 1-5 for giving content anyone could dream of and more 😅

Besides the obvious ending, I'm mostly crushed our Loki and Mobius didn't get a proper goodbye but honestly believe Loki decided to seek out s1 Mobius instead knowing s2 Mobius loved him too much to ever let his sacrifice happen and it would've been too much to bear, so having made his mind up already he at least tried to visit a version most likely to validate his choice. Just wish the Mobius now waiting until the end of time had at least a similar opportunity, but I'm just thankful he didn't lose his memories and could make his own decision that his faith in Loki is what's carried him before and will continue to do so now.

The flip of their characterization from order or chaos is exactly what has me convinced Lokius will reunite because how can they not with such an open ended future?? Even in separation they revolve around each other and they're the only ones left wanting. Mobius and his life are in ruins with nothing but the passage of time and possibility of some spent with Loki ahead while Loki's surely going to find a way to meet halfway when the choice of order has not only made him potentially the most powerful being in existence but one who spends eternity looking at the only person who ever saw him back.

#cutting this short because it's already longer than expected and i'm about to cry again even though i've done so like a dozen times today 😅#but truly s2 has been the most incredible fun uplifting heartbreaking experience and i'm so thankful to have shared it with you all #have a feeling nothing's going to beat it for me as well which is kind of wild to wrap my mind around??#never gonna be another character like mobius or one who means more to me plus owen is it for me now #and if i could craft a perfect episode of anything start to finish it would be s02e01 #the banter their chemistry the touching the sacrifice the perfect balance of plot and humor it's pure love and comfort #what a ride #and thank you again for the loveliest ask!! love hearing what everyone thought of the season and where things can go from here #hope you're having an amazing weekend 💖#ask #loki spoilers

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ithinkthiswasabadidea · 2 months ago

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🧡🧡🧡

#my face #personal #okay so i debated with myself for like. a while. about whether or not to post these bc #well yah they're provocative. like tasteful semi-nudes #but also??? i like them a lot?? they make me feel hot? and i want others to see that too #i rarely get the opportunity to take artistic photos of myself when i look and feel good #so. yeah #:) here is me #nsft #soft nsft #i tried to keep it tasteful #these were the tamer ones #also do not expect to see anything more than this 😅 ya gotta pay me for that #am i missing any tags

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outfoxt · 8 months ago

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this is going to sound really fucked up but i just need to say it i think.

I never realized that people could actually care. I always thought that the depictions of friendship in movies and TV shows were over-the-top portrayals, and weren't things that actually happened. This was then exacerbated by the fact that my entire life I always wanted people to just Know How I Was Feeling like they do on TV and I found out that that's Not How It Works. I always thought I was naive for caring so much about my friends and for doing nice things for them out of the blue, and I always resented myself for resenting my parents for not doing more for me as a child.

So when I got to uni, and my friends started caring about me and asking if I was ok when I looked sad and doing nice things for me, I didn't know what to do with myself. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me in a long time. When I was staying with a friend, and she said that she left the window open in the room I was going to be staying in because I liked it to be cold when i sleep, I bluescreened. I didn't know how to respond. It is quite literally one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me. No one had ever paid that much attention to the things I liked. Every year on my birthday it was either a gamble if I would get something I actually wanted from my parents (spoiler alert: I was often disappointed) or I would just have to straight up tell them what I wanted. I got accustomed to the latter, and now I don't mind, but receiving two gifts from friends about languages this year made me realize that I could have it so much better.

And don't even get me started on online friends. I sort of thought that everyone was lying about them? Or that it was something unattainable, and reserved only for God's Chosen Favorites or something. But no, there are little people in my phone who care about me. They legitimately care about me as much as I care about them. I've been nervous to ask them about their well-being because I'm still nervous about being naive and getting a wake-up call that no one cares again, but after being told that they were worried about me when I overslept, I think i should know that I'm in the clear. And that's not even including all the times they tell me to go to bed when it's late, and when they ping me about things I may enjoy or things I was involved in.

All this is to say I guess that I'm touched that people remember my existence. It makes me feel good to be wanted. I will be eternally grateful to both my irl and online friends who made me realize that just because my parents or my friends from home didn't care enough to remember what I like or to go out of their way to do nice things for me, it doesn't mean that no one will. I need to step up and do more for you guys. I trained myself to push down my desire to help and check in with people because I thought I was betting on something that I'd never get in return, but now I know I can.

Thank you all, and I love you 💚

#uf this is a long one sorry 😅#i put it under a cut so it wont clog up your dash #btw if you are an online friend and you do something nice for me #what you arent seeing is me squealing and crying and bluescreening before giving your message a heart emoji and possibly the 🥹 emoji #the 🥹 emoji to me is a dear friend #🥹 to me in the context of accepting nice things means that im basically already crying #i am so incredibly appreciative of you all #i will not stop saying it #and i need to say it more to my irls faces #if you know me irl and you see this expect me to tell you very soon that i fucking love you #and if youre an online friend and you have vagueposted about something happening to you since ive met you #you may or may not get a message about it (depending on how chicken i am) because i fucking care about your well-being goddamnit #idk idk idk i just #it still amazes me that this isnt fake #that you actually care #i keep thinking that ill say something wrong or whatever and ill lose it all #but in the back of my mind i know that isnt true #i should probably be telling all this to a therapist but therapy is expensive and posting online is free #there was something else i wanted to say but i forgor so ill edit and add it when i rember #ok to rb #long post #personal

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mitamicah · 5 months ago

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Guys; i made my first bracelet 🤭

@formulalakana I dont manage to get other made by monday then this one is for you 🤗

#i didnt have any guidance just went with what i had in the two of three sets of beads i had #(i have no idea where i put my letter beads 😭#so these two are from a bracelet that broke 😅#also the wire i got in one of the bead sets is not elastic so closing it was way more stressful than expected 😱#so i hope it wont break 😅)#despite all this i think it is quite alright for a first bracelet 😄#let me see if i can find some elastic wire #(and maybe a tutorial? xD)#then try again :3 #i prob cannot make a lot before finland but if i am lucky one or two more we'll see xD #(should i be fooling around with making bracelets at this hour? prob not #but i needed something different from drawing damnit xD)#micahs foolery #creative kääryleet

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reineydraws · 11 months ago

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summary of art 2023! here are some of my fave (non-zine) pieces from every month this year :) i'm most happy with the way my digital colouring process has improved from last year 🎉 it's easier now to make things look less flat after some tricks i picked up and practiced throughout the year ✨️✨️

thank you for all your support! it's always a pleasure and a delight to see your tags and comments in my notes. it really picked me up this year when i needed it. :')💖 let's all have a great 2024!

pieces: jan / feb / mar / apr / may / jun / jul / aug / sep / oct / nov / dec

#art summary #summary of art #demon slayer #batfamily #one piece #newsies #stranger things #kny #spot me going through my phases haha :') batfamily > renkaza > mishanks #fr tho this year's kinda scared me and im still dealing but it was always nice to open the app and see the enthusiasm for my art #thanks yall 💖💖💖#i wish i could add my zine pieces to this cuz im really proud of them :')#i couldve added the six au batfamily one but i also realized i have no idea what month id put it in lol #i finished it in apr but i posted it in dec 😅#so i decided to just. not. lol. but im proud of it!!!#the figure skating mihawk one was a surprise for me. i didnt expect it to turn out so good.#it was a rough sketch i only coloured cuz i coloured shanks's and then it felt like i was being unfair to mihawk hahaha #but the shading + the bg turned out really nice

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good-beanswrites · 6 months ago

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That LCSYS and OoA crossover got me wondering about Fuuta.

How does he feel about being in Mahiru's place and Amane being in his place? How does he act around them?

How does he act during his interrogation?

Poor guy isn't cut out for this role, but he's doing his best! I had some format fun with this one -- I took your OoA chapter of his interrogation and put Fuuta's LCSyS thoughts in between, I think it worked out well! I discovered some new things about Fuuta's mindset in the au through the process of writing, it was really interesing :0

(Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts, including a brief mention of Haruka's situation. There's also something about Fuuta repeatedly stopping Es from getting Shidou.)

Fuuta heard Es' footsteps approaching. He took a measured breath. In and out. His exhale trembled a bit from nerves. He figured he could use that to his advantage.

Es entered the cell and took in the layout. Fuuta was propped up in a hospital bed, his neck and torso securely braced and his left arm in a sling. He was kneading a Jackalope stress toy with his right hand, digging his nails into it. More stress toys stood on the table to his right, and Es almost tripped on one a few feet ahead. As Fuuta saw Es approaching, he dropped what he was holding and swatted the rest out of his reach.

"Been a… while, Warden," Fuuta said. Es was expecting more malice in his tone, but he sounded like his life force was draining.

Fuuta hadn't liked the idea of playing the damsel in distress. He wasn't some sickly bedridden patient with a quivering voice and trembling limbs. Thankfully, Mahiru and Mikoto had talked him into taking a different angle: some of their favorite books and movies featured a battle-weary hero, weak from the fight and scorning the cowards that didn't fight alongside him. That seemed doable, he thought. He put an extra pant into his breath, hoping to evoke the thought of messy wounds from his brawl with Kotoko.

"Fuuta… you…" They pulled a chair to the side of the table and took a seat. "Are you okay?"

That's their opening? What kind of fucking question is that?

He kept Mahiru's pointers in his head, picturing a bloodied and bandaged knight, or maybe an action hero resting up after getting riddled with bullets. He forced his voice to come out more tired than he felt.

"…look like it?" Fuuta responded. If he was angry, his voice did a terrible job of showing it.

Es didn't know how to respond. Do I look like it? was obviously a rhetorical question, but they needed to show some tact.

After a moment, Fuuta spoke up again. "…look awful… don't I?"

Still unsure of what to say, Es nodded slightly.

Heh. Good. Time to twist the knife a bit. Play the confident card, make them feel guilty. They'll see how strong I am -- how strong I've always been -- and what a mistake it was to let me fall so far.

"Could've been worse. Could've died."

Es stared down, pondering their next words. Several seconds passed.

Fuuta watched them. He felt a sinking in his stomach. Their sullen silence wasn't what he'd been anticipating. He wouldn't have been satisfied with a lot of possible responses, but he'd still been expecting something. Where was their respect? Their remorse? Their pity? Anything? He reached his arm out.

A loud knock on the table got their attention.

"Oi… talking to you." Fuuta's irritated glare met Es as they lifted their head.

"I'm sorry," they said, "I'm… I'm not sure what I can say."

"Don't know what to say? I almost died because of… you don't know… Even so, it's a miracle I … If Shidou had taken any longer, would've been over for me. Don't blame him, though.

I think I've said too much -- Shidou said only a few sentences at a time...

It was impossible to keep it short, though. Es just told him that they have nothing to say in defense of his near-death. Did he really mean so little to Es that they wouldn't even dignify him with an explanation?

"…Oi, say something."

"Sor-"

"Sorry won't cut it." Fuuta sounded more pained than angry.

That was easier to accomplish now that he was actually feeling some pain. After everything, all Es had to say was a half-hearted "sorry."

So, they really don't care about me...

Es took a breath. "…Kotoko did this to you?"

Well then, I guess I'll just have to make them care.

"No sh… agh…" Fuuta gasped for air.

"Fuuta!" Es got up and walked to his side. "I'll go get Shidou-"

"Don't!" Fuuta's eyes betrayed his desperation.

Only when my pain is thrown directly in my face do they give a damn. And they were going running off to Shidou, anyway! Though maybe...

After they locked eyes for a few moments, Fuuta let out a chuckle. "Look … you … down on me, like always. Must be so happy to see…"

"I- no, I'm not. I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't think Kotoko would-"

"Beat me to near-death? What'd you expect … you affirmed her…"

"I…"

"…thought she wouldn’t have … same crime here in…"

It seemed Es was finally listening, finally trying to open themself to him. And all of the sudden, Fuuta hated it. He felt paranoid under their gaze. He wasn't sure if it was fear of them seeing through his false injuries, or fear of another judgement from them. Regardless, he felt his pulse race with the way they were watching him.

"Oi, quit standing… staring…"

"I’m sorry, I didn't think-"

"Useless… apology…"

But what else could Es do besides apologize? Stand their ground and contradict Fuuta while he was in that pitiful state?

Fuuta was tired of their weak apologies. If Es had the conviction to name him guilty, they should toughen up and admit it.

With a deep breath, Fuuta forced himself to stay slumped into the bedsheets. He was getting riled up, but couldn't afford to look to strong.

"Really didn't think it'd… turn out… Me too. All I did… call some bad person out… say what's wrong was wrong…"

Es' gaze had become intense again. Those eyes, staring into his. Studying his injuries. Studying his expression.

Staring.

"Their reasons were b-" Fuuta gasped and clutched his chest. Es began to turn towards the door, but Fuuta grabbed their cape with his right hand.

Why can't they just offer help themself? Why do they go running off to someone else at the first sign of trouble? Am I really so disliked they can't face me?

Es swatted his hand away. "Hey, you can't just grab me like that."

"Don't dare…"

"Fine, I won't get Shidou. Yet." Es stood in place and waited for Fuuta to regain his voice.

Fuuta pretended to catch his breath, using the time to muster up something to say. If he wasn't so insistent on Es taking some responsibility for themself, he'd consider letting them call Shidou and just end this whole interrogation. He was ready to jump up and start swinging.

He itched to leap out of bed and give Es a real piece of his mind. He repeated the others' advice and pleading for him to keep his temper in check for the sake of the experiment. He thought of Amane -- how eagerly she awaited her own interrogation. All of this had been her plan, after all. As miserable as he was, he wouldn't ruin everything before she got her turn.

No, I will not steal her trial.

"You judged me… said I was unforgivable… without the whole story… How's that any different?"

"Excuse me?"

"That's so hypo- khh!" Fuuta slammed his hand on the table, trying to play it off as an emphasis, but that didn't mask his pain.

"Careful, Fuuta! You'll hurt-" Es gave up on that concern when Fuuta glared.

Pssh, like they actually care.

"Someone died because of you. You're saying I'm the same?"

"I didn't think they'd die!"

"But you knew people would dogpile them."

"I wasn't acting alone. Anyone else… out of my control… Why'd you pick me…"

"Milgram has judged-"

"Milgram doesn't make any f-"

Maybe Es should have put their foot down and called Shidou regardless of Fuuta's wishes. But something compelled them to hear him out. "Don't push yourself."

He tried to gauge if they were being sincere. He wasn't sure if he only mistook it as genuine concern since he was hoping for that so very badly.

Fuuta was clearly annoyed, but he took a breath and continued. "Still don't see it? We're just the same!"

"Me? The same as you?" Es couldn't deny Fuuta's point. They both made their judgments without thinking that someone could be seriously hurt—or dead.

That's got their mind turning, huh? I've got 'em now -- even if they don't feel like taking responsibility for my condition, I can subtly get them to take responsibilty for anothers'.

Fuuta was not known for his subtlety.

"I'll tell you. They were just in middle school. Maybe closer to Amane… than you…"

"Amane…" Es already knew this from what they gleaned from Fuuta's first video, but it didn't register how close in age their victims were. Wait, why were they thinking of Amane as a victim? "Amane… huh… I noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together lately."

"You kidding? Don't change the subject... You don't talk about her like… Only one who cared before everything went to hell. You made her go through it. Decided she wasn't forgivable… painted a target… She could've died too! Then we'd be exactly…"

"Don't put me on the same level as you."

He took another moment to calm himself. His "broken" arm clenched into a fish underneath the blankets. It made sense that Es wouldn't want to talk about the other prisoners during his interrogation, but their avoidance of Amane made his blood boil.

"Are you not-"

"I'm just doing my job. Nobody told you to go online and decide who are bad people and harass them. You made a game out of judgment. This is what I'm supposed to do."

Fuuta laughed at Es for still failing to acknowledge their similarities. Then he winced in pain. Then he kept laughing and mocking Es for taking their job seriously.

It was difficult to keep up the act the whole time, but he was always quick to recover each time he slipped up. He was doing this for the others. All hope for himself was lost, but at least he could do this for the others.

Es snapped back. A pointless, cyclical conversation. Fuuta stopped Es from calling Shidou no less than three times.

If he had to sit here and suffer through this interrogation, so did Es.

Eventually, the bell brought the conversation to a halt.

Silence.

Why was Fuuta so quiet?

"Hey… Fuuta?" Es leaned over to get a better look at his face. His eyes seemed glassy, and he seemed to be breathing more slowly. "Fuuta… I'll go get-"

"Don't. Not worth…"

"Worth what?"

"If you're not going to… forgive… what's the point… living?"

Fuuta would just chalk it up to getting too in-character, when the others asked.

"Don't say-"

"Everything hurts so much."

This feeling of betrayal. Of loneliness. The fact that I was the first named unforgiven. The fact that I'd be the first attacked, making me the victim -- not a hero, nor a warrior. The fact that you knew all along. You knew I was none of those things. You saw right through my act, to the real me, the one who is a victim. And that's why you acted the way that you did. You're trying to do your job without hurting me any more, as if I'm something fragile to be handled carefully. And that hurts most of all.

To keep things on track, he added,

"Painkillers don't help… Strange wonder I survived. Is it really worth it?"

"Worth it…" What could Es even say about that? Anything they could think of was either more unwanted pity or…

A cold accusation that Fuuta was bargaining his life for forgiveness. Es's thoughts flitted back to Haruka's interrogation- no, that comparison was unfair. Haruka's loaded intentions were worlds away from Fuuta's resignation. How could Es dare…

"I understand… this job requires resolve…"

"Resolve? You really have resolve… just kill me. With your own two hands. Don't hide behind the rules."

Look who's talking...

"I can't do that. I can't sink to the prisoners' level. It's my job as the warden to make a fair judgement. I… I have to judge each and every one of you… no matter how much they plead, cry, or bargain… even if they are dying right in front of me."

"What is even the point? You give a damn about my life, forgive me! If not, kill me… get it over with."

The words came tumbling out. Fuuta tried not to think so hard about what he was saying. It was all in character. That was it.

For some reason, he got the sinking sensation that he'd be pulled aside later to explain himself. He wasn't sure who'd get to him first. Yuno? Shidou? Kotoko? Now that he thought about it, it would probably be Mahiru.

"Bargaining tactics won't work with me."

"Not like I care. Or… if I get out of this alive, I'll… kill… you…"

"Fine by me. If we truly are the same, then I'll have had it coming. Now, Prisoner no. 3, Fuuta, sing your sins."

Fuuta breathed a sigh of relief.

Fucking finally...

#milgram #au combo!!#es #fuuta kajiyama #order or attack #lights camera sing your sins #we are fuutaposting (FOUR posts across blogs??) then going to SLEEP its past my bedtime -_-#i was busy today so i stole some peaceful me time to write >:3 but i stole too much and now its 1am.... alas......#it was really fun setting this up like directors commentary asdfsdf (which i have an actual one to do from you still)#i expected for him to have more anger and impatience but i realized hed be pretty emotionally hurt still #also yeah. i think hed be in a bit of denial about his self-harming thoughts and unsure why they just start spilling out #then has to unpack A Lot behind the scenes #i think if it were anyone else hed go 'screw it - im going to ruin this experiment and call es out and everyone can go home'#but because he was moved by amanes mission specifically he has the bare minimum of self control to keep the act up ;--;#i wanted to include more of the fun behind the scenes mv details that hes aware of but it never really came up 🤔#thank you for the ask - this was so fun! :0 #drabbles #maybe? more like a parasite drabble latched onto your writing 😅

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