#*i* am hoping for a second ‘new hollywood’ to come about but

[inkykeiji]

hihi! your rb with the tags about your profession had me intrigued and I wanted to ask, what DID kill the Hollywood system? if you don't mind me asking >u<

HI HI HI HEHEHE first of all i hope you’re doing well!!! seCONDLY OMGGG thank you for indulging me waaaaah i love talking about golden age/classical hollywood and the studio system!!!

beware: i rambled on and on below the cut >.< apologies for the mini essay in advance waaah

OKAY SO. first, a little context. the classical hollywood studio system originally utilized a practice called ‘vertical integration’, which basically means they owned and operated ALL channels of production, distribution, AND exhibition—aka, they controlled literally everything in regards to the films they made, which was like 90% of american filmmaking at the time. this, naturally, made it quite difficult for any film that wasn’t a film made by the Big Five (warner bros, paramount, 20th century fox, RKO, and MGM) or the Little Three (columbia pictures, united artists, and universal) to be screened at a theatre, because the studios owned a decent chunk of the theatres.

furthermore, the theatres the big studios DID own always got first run of their films, meaning that their movies were exclusively screened at the theatres they owned first, then were passed off to second run, third run and fourth run theatres. it’s important to note here that the film prints being distributed and passed around theatres were the same all throughout a film’s run—so by the time a print reached a fourth run theatre, the film stock was all scratched up and low quality. who wants to go watch that? (no one! audiences flocked to the first run theatres owned by the studios!).

the antitrust case between the supreme court and paramount pictures (aka ‘the paramount decrees’) was the first, and heaviest, nail in the coffin of the studio system. the paramount decrees did two things. first, they forced studios to stop a practice known as block booking. block booking was a practice where theatres not owned by the big studios were forced to buy a huge block or batch of films in advance. usually, these films included one A-list film and then a bunch of B-movies and other less desired films. second, they forced studios to cease owning theatre chains, which allowed for indie directors to begin screening their films, AND it allowed for more international films to be shown (which in turn helped break down the production code & replaced it with the ratings system).

this began the end of the system! it was then further impacted by consumer culture, car culture, and suburbia. after world war two, many people moved out of the city and into the suburbs, where they began to start families. car culture was booming and it was hip to have a car that you could use to commute to work (from the suburbs into the city!). disposable income was abundant, and many families were buying fancy new appliances for their new suburban homes—including televisions.

it’s a common misconception that TV killed the studio system. it was, in actually, only one of several nails in the coffin. television at the time was pretty crummy; it was low quality, the screens were small, and it only had about three channels (not to mention studios began allowing television networks to begin screening older films that no longer ran in theatres). but evidence proves that moviegoing attendance had fallen drastically several years before televisions became a fixture in the home. to combat TV and capitalize on car culture, studios began erecting drive-ins, to little avail!

anyway, i could go on and on and on but basically, in a nutshell, those were the handful of things that broke down the classical studio system and gave way to ‘new hollywood’…which then gave way to the blockbuster.

[mortalityplays]

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

Okay so hear me out... [Massive spoilers and speculation on Wicked films ahead]

It's apparent that Wicked Part 2 is going to have new, expanded, and altered scenes — but by far the most tantalizing is implied by the first scene of the first film.

We see a cloaked figure on horseback fleeing from Kiamo Ko after the Melting, and then we see Dorothy, Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, and the Scarecrow on the Yellow Brick Road back to the Emerald City. This is in keeping with the 1939 Wizard of Oz, which implies something hugely important about the plot of Wicked Part 2: the musical's original ending has been changed.

In the original stage version, Fiyero comes back to Kiamo Ko after getting his diploma brain from the Wizard and all that, and Elphaba comes out from her little trapdoor, and then they leave Oz together without telling anyone. It's unclear (on purpose, obviously), but it seems very apparent that the cloaked rider we see at the start of the 2024 film is Elphaba. This leaves us with a few possibilities for how the plot will unfold in Part 2.

1.) Elphaba simply leaves alone, telling nobody — not even Fiyero — that she's alive. I am okay with this, since honestly the way that the finale of the musical was written has always felt kinda clunky and borderline plot-holey to me.

2.) They still end up having the original ending happen, just switched around the order of some of the events. Maybe Elphaba escapes first but then finds Fiyero alone elsewhere somehow, and in the end still leaves Oz with him. I'd accept it — it is probably the most likely version they might go with — but with all the changes being made, I would be a little disappointed if it ends up this way ngl, when they have the chance to make a new ending that far surpasses the original.

3.) Elphaba leaves alone BUT makes Glinda and/or Fiyero aware of her survival somehow. This is actually a surprisingly plausible option I think, since Elphaba in the original show immediately wanted to tell Glinda she was alive (with Fiyero talking her out of it — which may not be a thing that happens anymore); and just IMAGINE how poignant heartrending it would be if Glinda were to find the old Emerald City guide with the note she wrote her in it, but with "I hope you get what your heart desires" in it in Elphie's handwriting, or something like that. Maybe even with Glinda singing her final "Good News!" after seeing it — leaving the door open that Glinda might have a chance to find her Elphie someday. Or hell, if they wanted to they could use the closing lines of the book in some form: the classic "did she ever come out?" and "not yet" (which of course itself has some delightfully sapphic undertones)

4.) Mostly wishful thinking on the part of my very very sapphic ass, but... can you fucking IMAGINE if they dared to rewrite an ending where Elphaba finds Glinda and asks her one more time "come with me..."?? And then they LEAVE OZ TOGETHER??? Not as plausible an answer as the others, I know — but can't a girl dream? I mean they set it up so well, if nothing else it's THERE for them to use if they decided to have the courage. In the first movie Elphaba says "come with me" twice to Glinda: first when she asks Glinda to come with her to the Emerald City (her 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽’𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓻𝓮), and lastly when she asks Glinda to come with her on her broomstick and escape (which of course Glinda refuses). If they decided to give Glinda a second chance to say yes and go with her, and this time she takes it... I mean, it would just be a really solid payoff to the material already established and obviously would also short-circuit all our gay little hearts. And the fact it's even conceivable they COULD do that is really exciting in and of itself. It isn't 2003 anymore, the stars are very on board for queerness — the only thing really reining in my hopes is the fact a major Hollywood family film blockbuster (even in 2024, sadly) usually can't bite the bullet and go full gay: BUT, who said it would have to be explicitly gay if Elphaba and Glinda leave together? Who's to say we couldn't get them And They Were Very Good Friends-ing away into the sunset together? No Homo as the plausible deniability needed to pull off the best sapphic victory in movie history? Oops, there go my hopes again, trying to defy gravity, lol

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Christmas in paradise

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

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC named Clara

Wordcount: 10.8k

Rating: E

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

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

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Full Masterlist // Dieter Bravo Masterlist

Clara’s days start early.

They always did. 

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

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

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

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

Good days were there. Occasionally. 

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

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

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

The divorce had been unpleasant. 

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

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

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

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

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

Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Clara have known each other their whole life. 

They lived on the same street growing up.

They went to the same school 

They both moved to New York at the same time. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When did they get delivered?” Clara asked.

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

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

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

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

It was after 5pm already. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You deserve a raise,” Clara winked.

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

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

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

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

He hadn’t called yet. 

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

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

Dieter was in panic mode.

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

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

It also happened while he was in his house.

At his party. 

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

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

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

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

And he was always horny really.

Anyways…

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

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

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

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

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

But then came:

“Leaked: Dieter Bravo’s Sextape”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking Gen Z. Or… whatever. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the last time he had been mostly clean. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“True.”

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

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

“On an island.”

“A tropical private island with 24 hour service.”

Dieter gave her a look. 

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

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

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

“No internet. No drugs. No hookers.”

Dieter pouted even more. 

“You know I’m a sex addict right?”

“Not diagnosed.”

“Dr. Google says otherwise.”

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

„No sex, really?“ He whined. 

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

“Would you want to have sex with…”

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

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

“Dieter?”

He opened his eyes. 

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

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

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

“Where exactly are we going?” Dieter asked. 

“Belize.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there was the drug problem. 

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

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

But he was a friend.

A good friend. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This place was beautiful. 

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe this trip was the best idea she could have.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dieter closed his eyes to just feel her so close. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The boat is ready,” the man said. 

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

“About 40 minutes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes, she was only his PR Manager. 

And a friend. 

Maybe a very good friend?

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

She had no right to tell him what to do. 

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

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

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

It was luxurious to say the least. 

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

Where the fuck did she find this place?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that… Lasagna?” you asked. 

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

“It smells delicious,” her mouth watered. 

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

“It’s 7 am.”

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

Clara chuckled before she grabbed a fork. 

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

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

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

Only to wake up shivering. 

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

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

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

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

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

She knew what this was. 

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

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

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

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

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

And so she had planned everything. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The following week was a long one. 

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

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

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

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

By day eight Dieter began to feel better. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frowning he narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dieter always thought that she was beautiful. 

Had been since he was a child. 

The prettiest princess of all he used to say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her smile softened. 

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

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

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

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

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

It was a beautiful place of earth she had found. 

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

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

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

It was her. It was always her. 

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

Because what did he have to offer her? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Carbonara,“ he smiled. 

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

He seemed… lighter. 

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

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

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

Giving her a warm smile he got back to work. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clara’s lips twitched into a smile. 

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

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

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

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

„Do that.“

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

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

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

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

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

„But what when you have to work?“

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

„What would you do?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Why haven’t you?“ She asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

„What changed?“ She asked, genuinely curious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The last two weeks had been… interesting. 

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

At the end of the day not much had changed. 

They were still best friends and loved each other. 

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

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

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

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

She heard Dieters before she saw them. 

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

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

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

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

She frowned at his request though. 

„Why?“

A grin sneaked to his lips. 

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

„Good,“ he kissed her again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He would never get tired of this. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Okay,“ she whispered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He walked over towards her, nodding. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dieter was pretty sure he was gonna die. 

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

And the noises she made? 

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, she was one lucky woman. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„You have?“ She asked and he nodded.

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

There were colours everywhere. 

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

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

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

And so many versions of herself. 

In all colours she could imagine. 

He had spend all this time painting her?

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

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

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

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

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

One Year later

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there was Clara. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She said yes before he could even ask his question. 

[wifeofsnowbaird]

can you do a Tom Blyth x reader where they are filming like a romcom or something and they fall in love over the course of filming? i was thinking fluff but i would not be upset if it somehow ended up with some smut in their trailer ;) , just follow your heart!! lots of love ❤️

ofc! I’m absolutely shitty at smut tho i might try with this one but idk so fluff it is❤️ it’s gonna have 3 parts bc it’s definitely gonna need more than a short post!

this first part isnt really when they're filming i just wanted Tom to have a slight crush after seeing ur story and wanted a small scene with Rachel and Josh!

So long I've been out in the rain and snow.

But the winter's come and gone, and a little bird told me so.

Part 1/Part 2/

(Tom Blyth x actress!reader)

summary: you and Tom meet for the first time while Josh is in the middle of the livestream. It's become the new famous ship of the internet.

You were one of the newest actresses in Hollywood and luckily you managed to grab a role with one of the most famous actors right now, Tom Blyth.

Ever since he starred in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, people have been thirsting for him like he was water.

You wouldn't lie, you were one of them, but you two were supposed to meet in a coffee shop, reciting your lines and you were late.

" Oh you're [Name] [Last name], nice to meet you! Sorry, my friends decided to follow me here. "

Tom grinned, blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight, an apology gleaming in his pupils.

"No worries, it's fine! I'm so sorry I'm late, it was just traffic!"

" Don't worry, I'm just glad you made it!"

You took in a deep breath and extended your arm for a handshake. Surprisingly, he hugged you instead. You met the two 'friends' who are actually fucking Josh Rivera and Rachel Zegler who were seemingly livestreaming on Instagram.

" And here is the new couple! Say hi, you two love birds!"

Tom rolled his eyes before letting you go to tell Josh off.

" We aren't dating, we actually just met."

Josh turned, confused for a second before gazing at Tom's phone that was left on his chair.

"Wait, seriously? Didn't you see a post of her being your new co-star in that rom-com you're doing and started bragging a lot to Rachel and me? What's it?"

He thought for a minute before his eyes lit up and he smiled brightly.

"Oh, yeah! Sweet truth, where a girl had a bunch of exes tell lies and cheat but then finds a man who tells her nothing but the truth?"

Tom hissed and shut Josh up by covering his mouth, before he noticed Rachel leaning toward confused you, beginning to tell you the whole story.

His panicked face turned red.

" So it was a couple weeks ago, we were just calmly hanging out after reshooting some Ballad scenes when Tom showed us your Insta where you were like, I don't know, talking about the movie you're gonna be in! He was literally obsessed, I am not kidding."

She shrugged as Tom glared at her for spilling his secret.

"I'm sorry, I mean you're beautiful and I-"

He cleared his throat, unable to continue because of his embarrassment.

You giggled, shrugging.

" It's cool, I mean I think you're hot-I mean handsome too."

Inside you were literally screaming at yourself for exposing the fact that he's your celebrity crush.

" Uh, guys, I hope this isn't method acting because I'd be really disappointed in you, Tom" Josh snickered, sharing a mischievous glance with Rachel.

Tom rolled his eyes, smiling at you before beckoning to the chair beside him.

" Let's, uh, practice...?"

[elizadushkudaily]

elizadushku: Hi ~ Sharing my personal story of using psychedelic-assisted therapy (PAT) with @BostonMagazine (link in bio) was not an easy choice, but I’m committed to using my “second life” to destigmatize mental health challenges AND the medicines that could alleviate suffering for so many people. More to come..

#Boston #massachusetts #psychedelicassistedtherapy #PAT

Thank you @gretchen.voss.5 & #BostonMagazine for sharing my story, experience, and mission!

-----

Hello Friends -

It's been a while. Life, changes, and new possibilities abound. It is with a newfound sense of purpose, hope, and humility that I have chosen to share about something deeply meaningful to me, something that helped shift the course of my life and brought tremendous healing- so that I might help or inspire others to find their personal pathways to peace.

I left a lot of pain on the table when I walked away from my career in Hollywood as an actress years ago. It felt important then to speak some buried truths and get honest with myself about what was/is most important in this life that I was given: to live authentically, heal and grow from my life's unique experiences, begin life's work of processing it all, and through that processing find my true purpose and life's passion.

It's pretty wild for me to stand today on very different ground, a new foundation- and I am profoundly grateful to the many special people, the countless, who have supported my recovery and journey within this space, both in my "first life" and now, in my "second life" so to speak.

My goal is to share my experiences and ultimately offer hope. With the application of ancient and sacred (and simultaneously novel and groundbreaking) molecules used in a therapeutic modality of consciousness healing, we have an opportunity, NOW, to help those suffering. Protocols for these sacred molecules to be used as medicines must always be respected and wrapped in purposeful intention, safe set & setting, experienced guidance, and ongoing integration. This has been and will remain paramount as I advocate for this work.

By amplifying some of these healing tools that have assisted in my life transitions and personal recovery over the last 5+ years, I aim to help be a voice in the mission to alleviate suffering. In my new vocation, I feel I can offer support to others and walk with them as they, too, face unmasking, the prospect of deeply feeling, and integrating their life experiences and challenges.

There will be much more to follow, but may this be the beginning of a new mission and new relationship with you- that focuses on mental health advocacy and healing recovery. Each of us knows someone suffering from mental health challenges who needs other options and strategies. Many of us ourselves face the difficulties of finding the mental health support we need individually (and collectively). All are welcome here.

With warmth and appreciation,

Eliza

(source)

(link to Boston magazine article)

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Out of This World

A/N: This is my contribution to the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May server challenge. Was it supposed to be a 1k word drabble? Yes. Did I intend to keep it at that length? Truly, I did. Did I absolutely play myself like a fucking fiddle? Again, yes. Am I sorry? Fuck no, I am not. This story single-handedly pulled me out of a month-long slump, so I was not about to clip it's wings. I had a flippin' blast writing this one, and I hope you will have a flippin' blast reading it!

Prompt: Meet Cute + "Do you believe in aliens?"

Warnings: a bunch of F bombs and other swears if anyone cares about that, mentions of past drug use and addiction but nothing current or detailed, Dieter's wild finger-combed curls

Word Count: 5.7k

Fun Fact: The Rancho Mirage Observatory is a real place, linked with the city's library, which means that it is open to the public. How frickin' cool is that? Learn more here.

I can’t believe this is happening. 

Fifteen years ago, if someone would have told you that double majoring in physics and engineering would eventually lead to you sharing a scene with an Oscar winning actor in a big budget Hollywood film, you would have laughed directly in their face. 

Which was pretty much what you did when Sharon, the executive director at the Rancho Mirage Observatory where you worked, told you that the facility was going to be used as a filming location for an upcoming summer blockbuster. 

“Sure, Sharon,” you smirked and playfully rolled your eyes without looking away from your computer. “And we’re all gonna be big stars, right?” 

Sharon had a proclivity for puns. Cheesy, obvious, predictable puns, at that, but it was sort of endearing. You were certain that the “news” she was sharing was just a set up for wordplay that you could see coming from lightyears away. Sharon’s puns were rubbing off on you just a little. 

You, though, as scientists sometimes are when testing theories, were wrong. 

“Well, no, not all of us,” Sharon responded, a somewhat mischievous grin on her face. “Just you.” 

That got your full attention, your eyes going satellite- wide as you snapped your head up to look at your boss. “What?”

She went on to explain that the casting director for the film - a sci-fi thriller called The Goldilocks Zone - preferred to cast actual professionals for small parts when applicable. Doing so meant that there was far less of a chance of an actor fumbling technical jargon or performing a job-specific task incorrectly, meaning that there was less of a chance that something that didn’t make sense would make the final cut. Like an astronomer adjusting the telescope lens the wrong way, for example. 

Right away, you thought of every medical drama you’d ever watched with your mom. She’d been an x-ray technician for thirty years, and she always noticed when an actor on screen was looking at a diagnostic image backwards or had hung a film upside down on the lightboard. It happened often. Like, once an episode, often. 

From that perspective, what this casting director was doing was smart. 

But from the perspective of you not having a lick of acting experience, you weren’t sure it was the best call. 

When you pointed that out, it was Sharon’s turn to roll her eyes. “Please,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You basically put on a live one-woman show every time you lead a tour or host a stargazing night. And you answer the most out there questions imaginable from kids without missing a beat. You can absolutely handle a few scripted lines about your area of expertise. Unless, I mean…” She shook her head and dropped the borderline giddy excitement. “If you don’t want to do it you obviously don’t have to. It’s entirely up to you.” 

You stared at her over the top of your computer screen, face frozen in an expression of utter shock. After a few seconds had passed and you realized you hadn’t said anything, you blinked and cleared your throat. “Um… Can I think about it? And do you know like, what I’d have to do or say or…” You trailed off, circling your wrist in a so on and so forth gesture. 

Sharon nodded. “Of course! The casting director just needs to know by Friday whether you’re in or if he needs to start reaching out to other astronomers in the area. He sent me some notes about the scene you’d be in. I’ll forward them to you so you can look ‘em over.” She spoke your name then, your eyebrows raising in response. “For what it’s worth, I think you should do it.” She smiled, wrinkling her nose. “It’s not everyday someone offers you a shot to showcase the thing you’re most passionate about in front of so many people.” 

You’d opened her email as soon as she got back to her office to send it, and when you saw the name of the lead actor in the brief scene description, you nearly fell out of your chair. 

Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter fucking Bravo. 

You had to read it three times before the rest of the information sunk in. 

The scene you were being tapped for was one of the opening ones of the movie. In it, Dieter’s character, Thiago, is trying to connect with his on screen love interest’s space-obsessed kid, Jae, by bringing them to the observatory for a tour. The purpose of the scene is to drop hints at the movie’s main plot without diving straight into the action, as well as to establish the nature of the relationship between Thiago and Jae - which, from the sound of it, is the classic “this guy isn’t good enough for my mom” to “actually he’s not that bad” to “he risked his life to save mine and now he’s my family” pipeline. It involves both actors asking you questions during the Q&A portion of your scripted tour, and the whole scene is scheduled to be shot in two days, with two additional days blocked off for B-roll footage and wide shots. 

It seemed simple enough. As long as you could get over the fact that you’d be working with Dieter fucking Bravo. You let Sharon know that you were in on Wednesday of that week, two days before the director’s deadline. 

And then three months went by, the buzz of excitement growing around the observatory as the filming dates grew closer, but there was still plenty of work to keep you busy in the meantime.

But now you’re standing in front of the RMO with Sharon, watching as trailers and trucks carting everything from costumes to cameras roll into the small parking lot. It seems like an overwhelming amount of equipment and personnel for just a few days, but then again you have no idea of what is necessary to pull off a production like this one. 

Guess I’m about to find out. 

“This is so friggin’ exciting!” Sharon checks her name badge for the sixth time in half as many minutes, making sure it’s on straight. She’s beaming but trying not to explode, and you can’t help but smile. Because, yeah. It’s really friggin’ exciting. 

“I truly can’t believe this is happening, Shar.” You let out a nervous laugh and shake your head slowly as two black SUVs pull in behind where the trailers have finished setting up. “This is batshit.” 

Before Sharon can click her tongue over your choice of vocabulary, the latest arrivals emerge from their vehicles. From one comes a young actor you’ve seen in several TV shows, their face instantly lighting up at the sight of the observatory’s twin domes set against the backdrop of the hills. They turn excitedly to the two women who arrived with them - one you can tell is the kid’s mom, the other you assume is a tutor since filming is taking place during the school year - and when they turn back towards the building, their smile has nearly tripled in width and brightness, and you wonder if they don’t share the same enthusiasm for all things space-related that the character they’re portraying has. 

If so, this has got to be a dream role. Hell, they’re what, thirteen? It’s a dream role regardless.

The trio make their way up to where you and Sharon are waiting to greet them, and hands are shaken and names exchanged -  River Harmon, playing Jae and confirming your suspicion about their love of science and the stars, Marla Harmon, River’s mom who is just as eager to get inside and have a look around, and Addison Wright, River’s tutor , who reminds everyone that three hours need to be set aside each day for schoolwork. You chat for a few minutes, just small talk about the weather - hot and sunny before the clock has even hit 9 am - and River mentions the In-And-Out Burger that they passed on the way in, which you tell them is your favorite guilty pleasure in the area. 

You’re all laughing at some ridiculous pun Sharon makes regarding the term “animal style” when two more people make their way up the path. You suck in a breath and feel your stomach flip when you register Dieter standing only a few feet from you, accompanied by a petite woman carrying what appears to be a toolbox but upon closer inspection you realize is actually a bag full of hair products and grooming tools. Which makes sense - those wild and wavy curls definitely don’t tame themselves, and from the looks of it, Dieter’s go-to grooming method is just to rake his fingers through his hair. 

Not that that’s not working for him, honestly. Fuck. 

You let your eyes wash over the man in front of you for a second before the introductions are made. He’s wearing loose-fitting light green linen pants that are tied with a drawstring at the waist, paired with a peachy orange tie-dye tee and a white short sleeved button down left open. You can easily see his two signature  triangular tattoos, as well as a few hemp and thread bracelets around his wrist and several chunky rings adorning his hands. Despite the fact that summer has yet to officially start, his skin glows a sunkissed bronze hue like he’s been laying on a beach for weeks. To say he looks good is a friggin’ understatement, in Sharon’s words. 

In your own, he looks fucking incredible. A far cry from the tabloid shots that came out a few years ago, paparazzi taking terrible advantage of the fact that Dieter’s struggles with addiction were threatening his health and appearance. He looks healthier and happier than you ever remember seeing him look in interviews or on red carpets, and despite the fact that he’s still for all intents and purposes a stranger to you, you feel a sudden swell of happiness for him for working through those difficult times. 

He doesn’t remain a stranger for long, though. 

Plucking one wired earbud from his right ear, he winds the cord up and shoves it into his pocket with his phone, and then steps up next to River, his full attention on you as he slides the sunglasses he’s wearing up to sit on top of his head amidst the finger-combed curls. 

“Hi,” he says in a manner that seems far too casual when paired with the way his deep brown eyes cut right into your own. He gives you a lopsided smile and extends one bear-paw sized hand, and then he speaks your name, which catches you off guard since you haven’t given it to him yet. “I’ve seen some of the videos of your programs on YouTube,” he says as an explanation to why someone as vastly well-known as he is would know anything about you before you’d even spoken a word. “I’m Dieter.” 

You certainly are. 

He chuckles and so does River and you can feel Sharon’s second-hand embarrassment as you realize that you just said that out loud. Oh, fuck. “I mean,” you let out a huff of laughter as you wince at yourself. “It’s great to meet you, Dieter.” You meet his waiting palm with yours, his skin warm as his fingers wrap around it and give a light squeeze. “We’re all very excited to have you both -” You look pointedly at River, who smiles widely. “- here at the Rancho Mirage Observatory.” 

“Not as excited as we are to be here,” River pipes up, elbowing the man playing their on screen step-dad. “Right Dieter?” 

Dieter looks beyond you at the impressive building housing the massive telescope, and you’re struck by the look of awe on his face. “Yeah,” he states, nodding. “Sure beats the hell out of a sound stage.” 

River rolls their eyes and shoots you a look that’s brimming with adolescent snark as they throw a thumb in Dieter’s direction. “Don’t let him downplay it. He’s been going on and on about shooting at this place since we got the greenlight to come here. He’s more stoked than I am, and that’s saying something.” 

You’re not sure, it could just be the sun, but you think you catch a hint of color climbing his cheeks as Dieter spins one of his rings around his finger. “Yeah, well…” He shrugs, expression returning to neutral. “I’ve always had a thing for space.” 

River nods sagely up at him. “Because you’re from Pluto. Right. I get it.” 

That makes everyone laugh, even Dieter, who pulls River into a joke headlock and ruffles their hair, yanking their hood up over their head for good measure. “Earthlings these days,” he mutters to you, making the same thumb gesture at River that they used at him. “Can’t take ‘em anywhere.” 

You laugh, and you’re surprised at just how easily it comes in the presence of one of the most in demand actors on this or any planet. “Ah, don’t worry. We get lots of Earthlings here.” You shoot River a wink as Dieter finally lets go of their hood, and then you look back up at him. “We know how to handle their kind.” 

“Good, because I have nooooo idea.” He raises his eyebrows and swings his hands out to the sides and you’re not sure why you thought you knew what he would be like before you met him, but he’s smashing your expectations with how real he seems.And how different he is from the man depicted in the tabloids. 

Before you have a chance to respond, a man holding a clipboard and wearing a headset comes bustling over to remind Sharon about the schedule - A quick tour of the facility for the actors and crew, then time for the crew to get set while River completes their schoolwork for the day, hair and makeup for the actors, which you’re reminded includes you, and then filming - and you’re grateful for the PA whirlwind, because it gives you a chance to process the way being two feet away from Dieter’s smile is making your stomach flip. 

Get your shit together, this is work… Just work, with an insanely attractive actor who keeps smiling like that when the cameras aren’t even rolling yet. I cannot fucking believe this is happening right now. 

Thankfully you’re able to keep your inner monologue where it belongs this time, your thoughts only interrupted by the sound of Sharon clearing her throat and saying your name. “Shall we take the stars to space?”  

Oh, Sharon, you really can’t help yourself, can you?

You nod once, grinning. “Absolutely.” You’re still extraordinarily nervous about being in front of the camera. But this part? Showing earnestly interested guests around the observatory and sharing the wonders of science and space? This part you are entirely confident about. Beckoning with one arm, you cock your head toward the door. “Right this way.” 

–  –  –  

Dieter can’t remember the last time he was this excited to be on location for a job. 

Partially because it had been a long time since his dramatic roles intersected with his personal interests, and partially because there was a time period of about five years - with the Cliff Beasts debacle coming at the tail end - where remembering anything at all was almost as big a challenge as was finding enjoyment anywhere. The triple threat of cocaine addiction, isolation and depression was a hell of a hole to dig himself out of. If six feet is the depth of a grave, he was basically five and a half feet down. 

Crazy how a brush with mortality paired with the realization that his life was still worth saving can make a person want to claw their way back to the surface. And even though things with Anika hadn’t worked out long term, not a day goes by that Dieter doesn’t acknowledge that there was no way he was climbing those five and a half feet without her help. The fact that they remain friends is constant reinforcement that his worth goes well beyond his work on the screen or his talents in the bedroom or the number of zeros in his bank account. He provides her with nothing but his friendship. Nothing but himself, and it’s shown him that just himself is good enough. 

He’s even been invited to her upcoming wedding, and he has every intention of going. But that’s not for a few months still. Luckily the date is sandwiched between the end of filming for The Goldilocks Zone and the film’s premier. And with this being the only project he’s working on currently, he’s able to focus entirely on the film and then entirely on his personal life. 

First though, he’s going to focus entirely on this tour. For three reasons: One being that like he told you, he’s always had an interest in the great unknown vastness of space. The second, that he always tries to immerse himself in the world of the characters he portrays. And the last? The instant interest he’s taken in you. 

She’s fucking incredible. 

He’s already familiar with you from the videos that the RMO posted to their YouTube account. As soon as he heard that you’d agreed to take the small role, Dieter watched every single one of them, completely enthralled. Your enthusiasm was so tangibly genuine, your knowledge of astrophysics so deeply complex and your ability to explain things in ways that anyone could understand unmatched. He watched your presentation on Kepler-22b four times for crying out loud, and not because he needed that many times to absorb and digest the information. He’d watched and rewatched because it was simply that enjoyable. You made it that enjoyable. 

It didn’t hurt at all that he also happened to find you stunning. 

The five and a half feet down version of him would have tried to make a move on you before you’d even finished the tour. Hell, before you’d even started it. And though there was still a part of him that was screaming with how badly he wanted to drag you off into the domed viewing room and fuck you until you were the one seeing stars, an even bigger part was steering him in a different direction - one where he actually got to know you. 

Not just the you that was “on” for a presentation. Not just the you that engaged with River as they asked a thousand questions about the telescope and it’s range. Not just the you that worked at the RMO. From the moment he saw you standing there, from the moment his hand closed around yours and your smile widened so that it reached your eyes, Dieter found himself wanting to know the you that lay beneath your work. 

And then maybe the you that lay beneath your clothes. But that was secondary. A close secondary, sure, but secondary nonetheless. 

I wanna know more about her. 

That’s why when the tour ends and River reluctantly heads off with their mom and Addison, Dieter doesn’t retreat to his trailer like he normally would when he has downtime on set. Kylie, his stylist, does head back so she can call home and check on her wife and kids, and Sharon, flits off to her office. But you remain in the large circular room watching with interest as the crew starts rigging up the lighting and blocking off marks for the actors with different colored tape, giving him the perfect opportunity to start on that mission. 

“So, you ready for your silver screen debut?” You must have assumed that he’d gone with the rest of the group, because when he speaks, you spin to face him with a look of surprise on your face that only makes you more attractive to him. Dieter laughs, the sound a gentle one without ridicule, lifting his hands with his palms facing you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”  

You laugh at yourself, too, closing your eyes and giving a small shake of your head. “No, it’s okay, I’m just…” Another huff of almost incredulous laughter comes from your lips as you open your eyes and look straight at him. “Having a bit of a ‘pinch me’ moment, here.” 

You walk down the few steps from the base of the telescope to join him on the main level, the railing cordoning off the enormous piece of equipment between you. Dieter leans against it from his side and you do the same from yours. “Hey, I get it. I felt the same way the first time I was on set.” 

Narrowing your eyes and tilting your head, you respond with, “I think it was a little different for you, Dieter. This-” You gesture to the crew spilling in and filling up the perimeter of the room. “-isn’t exactly my wheelhouse.” 

He wants to reassure you that you’re going to do more than fine, but he’s caught up on the way his name sounds in your voice. Part of his brain jettisons off to thoughts of what it would sound like in a very different scenario. But that’s not the him in the here and now, so he clears his throat and his mind all at once. 

“Nah,” he says, bringing one hand up to scratch at his chin. “My first role had me literally shaking in my shoes. I was a little older than River. That kid is gonna be a fuckin’ star if they keep the mindset they have now, that’s for sure.” You nod, because it’s clear to anyone with eyes that the kid has their head on straight and an excellent support system to help them navigate the industry. “But me? I was a basketcase. So nervous, even though it was my dream.” He sighs. “Still get nervous sometimes.” 

That makes you widen your eyes in surprise. “Really? Mr. two-time Oscar winner gets the jitters before starting a new role?” 

“Oh yeah.” Dieter groans, shaking his head and looking down. When he lifts his chin again he finds you waiting, his own smile stretching out across his lips. “Imposter syndrome comes for us all. That bastard.” 

That pulls a laugh from the center of your chest and his first thought is how do I make that happen again? “It is a bastard, isn’t it?” You hum and Dieter nods. “Well that makes me feel a little better.” 

“Good.” He stands up straight, keeping both hands planted on the rail, and you do that same. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re gonna be great.” 

You suck in a small breath that he might have missed if he wasn’t so keyed into your every move. “Thanks, Dieter.” 

“Of course.” He taps his fingers on the railing, one of his rings clanging against the metal. “So, can I ask you a question?” 

You raise your arms to your sides, elbows bent and fingers spread. “That’s quite literally what I’m here for.” Looking over your shoulder, you gesture towards the telescope. “If it’s about this beauty right here, I can-” 

“No, it’s…” Dieter’s tongue slips out to wet his lips, warmth splashing through his chest at the way your eyes track its movement. “Not about the telescope. Though I definitely wouldn’t say no if you were just about to offer me a chance to look through it?” 

You chuckle. “I think that can be arranged, though it’ll have to wait until all these lights are gone. Or at least off. And it would have to be after dark for the best views.” 

“Seriously?” His excitement over the prospect of getting a peek into the cosmos briefly overtakes his desire to ask the question on his mind. You confirm that it would be no big deal and he takes you up on it without hesitation. “Done. Tonight?” 

You take your lower lip between your teeth for a split second and he struggles not to stare. “Sure.” 

That would be…

“Amazing.” He smiles and runs a hand through his hair. Suddenly his belly fills with the flap of a thousand monarch wings like he hasn’t felt in over a decade. It’s unusual, but refreshing, and he finds that he kind of likes it. 

I can’t get ahead of myself, though. 

Clearing your throat, you tap your fingers against the railing. “But, um, if that wasn’t your question -” You shrug one shoulder. “What is?”

Kylie comes through the door at that exact moment, calling Dieter’s name before he can answer. “Dieter? You in he- Oh. There you are.” She glances at you, and then back at him, her sharp green eyes measuring and analyzing the small amount of space between the two of you, and he sees her do her best to keep a knowing grin erupt. It doesn’t, and Dieter shoots her a look of gratitude which he knows she catches. “Sorry, but Tyler decided that we should do some promo stills while we’re here, and he wants to make use of River’s school time, so that means you need to get to hair and makeup earlier than planned. Like, now, earlier.” She adds that last part with a roll of her eyes. 

Dieter sighs. “Alright, Ky, I’ll meet you there in a minute.” 

She nods and turns to leave, sidestepping the sound engineer who is bringing in his equipment to get set up, and Dieter faces you. “Raincheck on that question?” 

You laugh. “Yeah. No problem. Ask me tonight.” 

“Oh, I will,” Dieter promises with a wink. “See you on set.” 

–  –  –

Your face hurts from smiling by the time Tyler, the director, calls a wrap on the day. 

For as nervous as you were going into your first - and likely only - acting endeavor, you end up having a fucking blast. And you know that it has a lot to do with Dieter and River being completely amazing to work with. They’re both somehow absolute professionals and class clowns, deliberately making each other laugh or flub lines a few times, but also delivering serious and convincing performances that you’re sure Tyler will have no problem selecting from. You only end up fumbling your words once, and it’s only because you’re trying to hold in a sneeze, which ultimately wins out as sneezes do. But you take Sharon’s advice and treat this like you would any other tour or presentation you’ve ever given, and since the scripted questions that Dieter and River’s characters - along with one or two of the extras in their on screen tour group - ask are right in line with the ones that you get all the time, the answers roll off your tongue easily. 

“I told you you were nervous for nothing,” Sharon says, nudging you with her elbow as the crew starts to clear out. They leave the equipment where it is since they’ll be shooting again tomorrow, but one by one the room starts to clear, everyone heading to the hotel that production has booked a few miles down the highway. 

You click your tongue and roll your eyes, the smile still stuck on your lips. “You did say that, didn’t you?” 

Sharon laughs. “I did. Hey, you want to get dinner or something to celebrate? My treat. Kevin’s home all week so he’s got the kids and I wouldn’t mind a night out.” 

Shit, I forgot to tell her about Dieter. 

“Um…” You lick your lips and return a wave to the last crew member who heads out into the main foyer. “Actually, Shar, Dieter asked if I would let him take a swing at stargazing, and I said yes. So… I mean, as long as you’re okay with it?” 

If she was beaming before she’s glowing now. “Say no more! Absolutely! You’ll lock up when you’re done?” You confirm that you will and she nods once. “Great. I’ll see if Margo from the library side is free. She’s always fun.” She shoots you a mischievous glance akin to the one she gave you when she first told you about the filming opportunity. “You have fun.” 

You try to tell her it’s not like it’s a date, he’s just genuinely curious and interested. That it’s just better for someone like him to do these sorts of things one on one because otherwise people won’t let him enjoy it. But all she does is hum an “Uh huh,” while she’s halfway out the door. 

And you’re left to wonder if you’re right. 

But you aren’t left wondering for too long, because only minutes after Sharon leaves, Dieter, looking exactly as he did when you met him earlier that day, strolls into the room. 

–  –  –  

You tell him that it will take you a few minutes to get everything set up. “Hope you don’t mind,” you add, as you start the process. 

“Mind?” He blows out a puff of air and watches your every move. “This is awesome.” 

As if to punctuate his point, the domed ceiling begins to open at that exact moment, the two sides sliding apart to reveal the night sky beyond. He tilts his head back as far as it goes to take in the sea of twinkling stars. Even without the magnifying power of the telescope, it’s a hell of a view. 

“If you think that’s awesome…” You begin adjusting the viewing lens, a small, smiling sound coming from you as you look through it. “Just wait until you get a load of…” You turn a knob, clarifying the view. “This.” 

You beckon him with one hand and he nearly trips over his feet to get there fast enough. He steps up next to you, closer than he was when the railing was between you, and that mass of butterfly wings goes fluttering through him again. And fuck if it doesn’t feel great. You move away from the scope but stay close as he bends down to take your place. “What am I looking at- Oh, shit!” 

In his field of vision floats a swirling, purplish looking galaxy with a similar shape to the Milky Way. For all the things he’s seen and places he’s traveled and experiences - both bad and good - that he’s had, this takes the cake and the cookies and the ice cream, too. It leaves him speechless and breathless and fills him with an emotion he doesn’t know how to name. 

And she gave this to me. 

You give him a few seconds to absorb it in silence, and then your voice fills his ear, his eye still pressed to the lens. “That is NGC 3031, AKA Messier 81, AKA Bode’s Galaxy.” 

You explain that the different names for it come from the three different times it was discovered and reclassified. You tell him how far away it is - approximately 11.8 million light years away from Earth - and that it can be found tucked into the constellation Ursa Major. And then you tell him it’s your favorite galaxy to show people, because it’s the clearest one that the RMO telescope can view. 

“Can you believe that it was first discovered in the 1700s?” 

He still doesn’t look away, answering you from his bent position. “I can’t believe I’m seeing it now in 20-fucking-24.” 

That pulls a laugh from you and he finally looks up, wanting to see the way that laugh changes your eyes. Tugs at your lips. Pushes your cheeks up. 

Beautiful. 

You sigh. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” 

He hadn’t meant to speak that thought out loud but you think he’s talking about the galaxy so he lets it slide. “Gorgeous,” he confirms, about you and the view you’ve shown him. “Anything else you can show me?” 

That laugh he’s starting to crave slips out again as you answer. “Yeah, Dieter, I’ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve, hang on.” You motion for him to step aside so you can reposition the scope. As you’re doing that, you bring up your conversation from earlier. 

“Hey, um, what was that question you wanted to ask me?” You shake your head, still making your adjustments. 

“Oh, it’s just…” He shrugs even though you’re not looking at him. “Something I ask people sometimes when I meet them. Kind of like an ice breaker I guess?” 

You step back and let him take another look - this time a gaseous nebula in hues of gold and green - giving him some time to soak it in before expecting him to continue. 

“I uh - fuck, this is cool! I…” He looks up briefly, finding your face. “Do you believe in aliens?” 

It’s clearly not what you were expecting him to ask based on the expression you wear, but much to his delight this time, you don’t laugh. “I do.” 

His heart flips like a gold medalist at the admission. Smart, sexy, and believes in aliens, holy shit. “You do?” 

You nod. “Yeah, I do.” Shrugging, you go on, stepping in to readjust the scope again. “Everything I’ve studied or seen suggests that the universe is far too big for us to ever really understand. And we already know that there are planets that theoretically could support life.” You gesture for him to look again, this time it’s the stormy, reddish orange patterns of Jupiter. “And as special as Earth is, I just don’t believe we’re so special that we’re the only ones out there. I mean, that’s what the movie is about, right?” 

“Yeah. Well, it’s about aliens looking for other habitable planets and finding Earth, so sort of the reverse of what NASA and whoever are doing. But… Yeah.” 

You smile. “So, do you?” 

“Believe in aliens?” He leans back against the railing. “Yeah.” He smiles. “Same reason as you. We’re not that special.” She is, though. She’s out of this fucking world special.

You hum. “Cool. Good to know we agree.” 

“Yeah,” Dieter takes a breath, filling his chest and letting the dizzy happiness you’ve given him take over. “This might be a long shot, I know it’s getting kind of late, but… Do you want to go get dinner or something?” 

You press your lips together like you’re trying to suppress a smile. It doesn’t work, and it’s the best sight he’s seen all night. “Okay.” You start shutting things down, pressing the button that closes the ceiling and shuts the sky away. “How do you feel about In-And-Out? I’ve been craving it since River brought it up and-” 

This woman is what dreams are fucking made of. 

Thankfully - at least for now - he keeps that part in his head. 

“I feel like you just read my mind. Let’s go.” 

--- --- ---

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[palomahasenteredthechat]

My thoughts on AQPDO

So, did this image appear in the actual film? Yeah, that's what I thought...

I loved it, and I was disappointed by it. This is long, so buckle in. Major Spoilers discussed below.

First, the outstanding: the performances. Holy hell. Lupita. Just...her talent is breathtaking. To sustain that level of intensity without overdoing it, I am simply in awe. Well done. I hope some attention is paid to her performance when award season rolls around. Ditto Alex Wolff. He did a LOT with so little screentime. Djimon too; they all were so, so moving.

Joe was so heartbreaking, and yet Joe's character is one of the things I am disappointed about, because I needed more. Not because I love Joe, but because the story needed it. I know there was a backstory that was cut, and to be honest I don't think that was necessarily a poor decision, but the issue is it was cut late in the creative process, versus in the writing, and that is where the problem is. More on that in a bit, but Joe delivered a sensitive and moving performance, and really understated as well. Not a bit of the cheeky Joe we have come to love so much that also I think pops out in Eddie and Michael occasionally. He was wholly immersed in Eric's reality and his energy complimented Lupita's so well; you can see how much they worked off each other. Dare I say she elevated his game. Another marathon performance and I can imagine how exhausting it must be to sustain that.

Second, Michael Sarnoski, hats off to you sir. The pacing, the way you put the story together visually, your heartbreaking script, just so well done. I hope they release the shooting script because I would love to read it and see the words (or lack of) that Joe and Lupita interpreted so movingly. I wonder if Michael has processed the death of a parent recently, because I felt so much emotion from this story. This film is about accepting the inevitability of death, while going through the five stages of grief, yet seeking to live fully regardless. Trigger warning: DO NOT see this movie if you are going through a rough time with someone who is terminally ill. It will wreck you. But this film is tragically, beautifully human. To deliver that story in a Hollywood big budget action film is a hat trick. Every actor in Hollywood who wants to grow creatively should be calling their agents asking to work with Michael Sarnoski right now.

Also, shout out to the production design people. They completely suspended my disbelief that the characters weren't in New York. Set design, lighting, like I could SMELL New York. Virtual production is getting so fucking good - we're well past the Unreal Wall vistas of the Mandalorian. If you ask yourself how A24 could shoot an Iraq war movie in the pastoral hills of England this is your answer.

Now, the not so good.

Go back and watch the first and second trailers and tell me how many of those moments were in the movie. Answer: barely any.

Map claw hand? We have to get out of the city? Gay couple? Old man turning off engine? Nada.

So, was this all misdirection in the marketing, making the audience think they were coming to see a summer action movie? That's legit, trying to get butts in seats, but I have a strong feeling Michael delivered a very different movie that was hacked up in the testing process. All of those scenes probably made the movie feel 'too long', and they had to cut them back to balance the action sequences with the emotional sequences.

The helicopters overhead spelling out THEY CAN'T SWIM probably came from focus group comments where someone was like 'why didn't the aliens just cross the river and start eating people in New Jersey?' (good point). But I'll bet you they wanted to give Alex Wolff's character a more significant death in regard to Samira's emotional journey, so they reshot the scene with the old man turning off the engine and had Alex do it instead.

Also, I get the strong feeling Eric showed up in the story much earlier in the original cut of the film, and the scene with Map Claw Hand illustrates that. The big question regarding Eric is why this random sad British dude gloms on to Samira and I'm not sure they answer that question in the final cut. Joe absolutely sells it, but it doesn't make sense and I suspect it's because it wasn't written that way.

Also, and call me crazy, but I think Joe is wearing a wig in some parts of this movie and not in other parts. It would make sense if there were significant reshoots based on early testing of the film. I wonder if the Alien Lava Tiki Bar (what...was that actually) scene was added later. Like, I get why Eric went up there- actually I don't, I think Eric would have been focused on getting the medicine back to her and wouldn't have taken a detour up scaffolding to follow I cat at all, but that's just me.

Finally, let's talk about the cat. Both Schnitzel and Nico are exquisite and enjoyable to watch, though how no one got scratched or bitten by a disgruntled feline is a mystery. We had a long debate about whether The Cat Represents Samira's Life, or The Cat is An Angel, or Fate, but ultimately we just went with KITTY and that made the story more enjoyable.

Samira is on a quest, to die on her terms, and once she accepts her fate, she sheds the things that no longer matter to her, and in the process gives Eric a purpose. The scene in the jazz bar was so moving. The final shot is also incredibly moving, and I hope the city was filled with the sound of music one last time, a beautiful elegy accompanying her soul to heaven.

Bravo.

[drewharrisonwriter]

Lifeline - Ch. 1: How It Used to Be

Pairings: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader, referred to as “Honey” 

Series Summary: After basically being dropped and rejected by every PR agency in Hollywood for being such a huge liability, Dieter Bravo must work on resetting his public image in the most unexpected ways.

Author's Notes: I have been working on this fic on and off for the past year, and this story is a little personal to me. Yes, I am trauma dumping in some scenes lol but I also want to say that there will be so many unrealistic things about Hollywood, actors, and PR/Marketing agencies here, to which I apologize.

Warnings: Angst, a little drama, lots of flashbacks. More warnings to come as the story progresses.

Read this on AO3 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

He used to tell it like it was a scene out of an old movie—one of those moments that felt too perfect to be real. It was his mother’s second wedding, small and intimate, set against the backdrop of a Hawaiian-themed afternoon that felt worlds away from the life he’d been trying to build in Los Angeles. He had just flown back in that morning, still half-asleep and nursing the familiar sting of another failed audition. At thirty, he was barely scraping by, a struggling actor on the outskirts of a dream he couldn’t quite reach, but today wasn’t about him.

Dieter had stepped into the backyard, the one he’d known since he was a kid, and there she was—Honey. Twenty-one now, far away from the chubby teenager he remembered, dressed in a red dress that clung to her in all the right ways, standing at the far end of the room with a glass of brandy in her hand. The guests milled around, voices mingling with the soft strum of a ukulele, but all Dieter could see was her. He remembered how she smiled, that kind of smile that could light up a whole damn room, the way she looked when she thought no one was watching. She didn’t seem to belong there, not really—like she was too much for this small-town backyard wedding, too much for the quiet life he was still tangled in.

He’d always say it was like everything else went blurry, fading into the background as he watched her from across the room. Time slowed, like in the movies, and it was just him and Honey, her red dress vivid against the lush green of his mother’s backyard. He didn’t know how long he stood there, rooted to the spot, just staring at her, but it felt like something clicked in that moment. Like he was seeing the leading lady of a story he never knew he was meant to be a part of.

Months later, when they were tangled up in sheets,  drifting off to sleep in his old apartment, he’d whisper in her ear the day he found her. About the first time he saw her, how she looked in that dress, how the sun caught in her hair and made everything feel warm and bright, just for a second. And Honey would smile and love it, because she always loved him, she tells him—she’d close her eyes, let out a soft laugh, and he’d tell her how he’d walked in, still in that wrinkled white shirt from the plane, and how the rest of the room disappeared as she came into view. She’d smile and slowly run a finger down the slope of his nose as he spoke, like she could see it all happening again, and for those moments, Dieter could pretend it was enough to hold on to.

Now, though, Dieter couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever find another moment like that. Or worse—if he already had, and that was it for him. He wondered if he’d feel that rush again, that movie magic. And if he did, would it feel like the first time he’d seen Honey in that damn red dress? Would he tell the story the same way, with the same stupid grin on his face, and pretend it was something new?

God, he hoped not. Because no matter how hard he tried, Dieter couldn’t let go of that first time and he doesn’t seem to want to let go of it all. The way she made him feel like maybe he was someone worth seeing, someone worth noticing in a sea of people who’d never quite looked at him that way before. Even now, when the spotlight was finally his, when he’d gotten everything he thought he wanted, Dieter knew that nothing would ever quite measure up to the way she’d looked at him that day. Honey, the girl in the red dress, the one who saw him before anyone else ever did.

He hated that he couldn’t rewrite that scene, couldn’t replace it no matter how many times he tried. And as much as he wanted to move on, to find something and someone else that felt just as good, Dieter knew that part of him would always be standing in that backyard, watching her smile, wishing he could step into that frame now and relive it all over again.

–

Dieter sprawled across the leather couch in his spacious Sherman Oaks home, staring at the ceiling as the late morning sun streamed through the oversized windows. The house was too big for one person, filled with all the trappings of success: expensive art on the walls, designer furniture he barely noticed, and a backyard pool that sparkled under the California sun. It was the kind of place meant for a family—big, open spaces perfect for kids, a kitchen begging for Sunday breakfasts, and bedrooms waiting to be filled. But it was just Dieter, alone, scrolling through his phone in an old green bathrobe that had seen better days, a coffee-stained t-shirt, and a pair of mismatched Crocs.

His thumb moved aimlessly over the screen, flipping through the usual parade of celebrity posts, promotions, and glamorous snapshots that made up his feed. His own account was filled with a mix of movie promotions, behind-the-scenes selfies, and the occasional controversial photo of him in his latest ridiculous outfit—a ratty fur coat or nothing at all, surrounded by people he’d barely remember the next day. Lately, it seemed like every headline had his name attached to some new scandal: the models, actors, and random flings who drifted in and out of his life like a revolving door, both men and women, sometimes all at once. It was the kind of attention he used to crave, but now it just felt empty.

Then, as if the universe was playing some cruel joke, his thumb froze on a picture that pulled him out of his haze. It was Honey.

She was standing in front of the Griffith Observatory, LA sprawling in soft, golden hues behind her. She was dressed simply, not in red but in a vibrant green dress that reminded him of summer, carefree and effortless. Honey’s smile was wide, the kind of smile that lit up her whole face, and she looked like she belonged there, even though she’d always been a small-town girl at heart. The caption was short, just an emoji and “LA for the weekend!” but to Dieter, it was like a punch to the gut.

She was here. In his city. And she looked happy.

He couldn’t help but tap on her profile, scrolling back through her recent posts. There were pictures of her at events, hanging out with friends he didn’t recognize, and singing at small, intimate bars where the lights were dim and the crowd was close. Honey was always singing—it was her secret dream, something she’d only ever joked about back when they were together, curled up on his old porch. She’d never taken it seriously, but now it seemed like she was finally letting herself have that spotlight, even if it was just a small one.

His scrolling slowed when he noticed something new—a link to another account tagged in her bio: “@TraceMarketing.” Dieter tapped it, curiosity gnawing at him. It was a business page, polished and professional, showcasing her new venture: a boutique digital marketing and PR business. Posts highlighted her clients’ successes, photos of Honey at meetings, and little motivational quotes sprinkled between updates. It looked like she’d traded her teaching job for something entirely different, something bigger. The realization hit him: Honey had moved on from more than just their old life. She’d moved on from the safe, predictable path she’d once clung to, and Dieter was suddenly painfully aware of how much time had passed, how much had changed.

As he scrolled through her business page, flashes of old conversations flickered in his mind.

* flashback *

It was a warm summer evening, the kind where the sun hung low in the sky, casting everything in a golden glow. Dieter was sitting on his porch steps, strumming his beat-up guitar, his fingers lazily picking out the chords to “Let It Be Me.” Honey was sitting next to him, leaning against the railing, her eyes half-closed as she hummed along.

“You know,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at him with a playful smile, “you could be famous one day. I can see it now—Dieter Bravo, Hollywood’s leading man. You’d have to beat the girls off with a stick.”

Dieter laughed, shaking his head. “I’d settle for landing a decent role in a local commercial at this point. Maybe a toothpaste ad,” he joked, strumming the next chord. “And what about you, huh? You’ve got a voice that could fill stadiums. You ever think about making it big?”

Honey rolled her eyes, nudging him with her shoulder. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just quit my job, move to LA, and become the next pop sensation. I’m sure the kids in my class would love that. ‘Miss Honey’s off chasing her wild dreams,’” she mimicked, laughing softly. “No, I think I’ll stick to singing for you and the cats that wander by.”

Dieter looked at her, his smile fading into something softer, more serious. “You could do it, you know. You could do anything.”

She shrugged, but there was a wistful look in her eyes, She poked at his chest and he chuckled. 

“Maybe. But some things are better left as dreams for some people, unlike you, Mr. Bravo. You are meant to make it big.” She tells him and he shakes his head, smiling like he doesn’t believe her and part of him really doesn’t.

* end of flashback *

Back in the present, Dieter shook his head, pulling himself from the memory. Honey had changed. She was no longer just the sweet schoolteacher from their hometown; she’d built something for herself. He wondered what had finally pushed her to leave, to take that leap she’d always laughed off. He wondered if she’d found what she was looking for, or if she was still chasing that dream, one client at a time.

His thoughts drifted back to the way Honey used to be with him—gentle, caring, and always ready with a home-cooked meal after a long, exhausting day. Back when he was still trying to find his footing as an actor, driving hours to perform in a rundown theater a few towns over, she’d always be there when he got home. She’d greet him at the door, the smell of something warm and comforting drifting from the kitchen. Honey was his sanctuary, the one constant in a life that felt like it was always on the edge of falling apart.

* flashback *

Dieter dragged himself through the front door, dropping his worn-out bag by the entrance. His feet ached from hours of standing on stage, and his mind was still buzzing with lines, cues, and the lingering sting of a director’s harsh critique. He felt like a failure, but then he caught the scent of garlic and herbs, and the tension in his shoulders eased just a little.

Honey popped her head out of the kitchen, her apron dusted with flour. “You’re home! I made your favorite—lasagna and garlic bread. Thought you could use a little comfort food.”

Dieter managed a tired smile, his heart swelling at the sight of her. “You’re the best, you know that?”

She grinned, wiping her hands on a towel as she crossed the room to hug him. “I know. And you’re not too bad yourself. Go sit, dinner’s almost ready.”

They ate on the couch, Honey curled up beside him, her feet tucked under his thigh. They talked about his day, her students, and all the little things that made up their world. When he’d vent about his struggles—the endless auditions, the rejection, the feeling that he was running out of time—she’d just listen, offering quiet reassurances and gentle touches that told him he wasn’t alone.

And later, when the lights were low and they’d drift into bed, the connection between them was electric, intimate in a way Dieter had never known before. They’d move together slowly, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Honey would trace her fingers over his skin, whispering little affirmations that he clung to like lifelines. It was the kind of intimacy that made him feel seen, loved, and enough.

* end of flashback *

Dieter blinked, shaking off the memories that clung to him like a fog. He picked up his phone again, staring at Honey’s smiling face on the screen. His life now was filled with parties, late-night escapades, and a string of relationships that never seemed to stick. He was the subject of constant tabloid fodder, a walking scandal wrapped in designer clothes and bad decisions. People saw Dieter Bravo, the star, the partier, the man who had everything—but none of them saw the guy who once dreamed of a quiet life with the girl in the red dress.

The house he’d bought in Sherman Oaks was supposed to be a fresh start, a perfect family home with a backyard big enough for kids to run around in and a kitchen that felt like the heart of the house. But it was just him, rattling around the empty rooms, filling the silence with distractions. Sometimes, Dieter would catch himself imagining Honey there—her laugh echoing down the hallway, her shoes by the door, her favorite coffee mug on the counter. He wanted that life, even if he didn’t know how to keep it.

He scrolled through Honey’s profile one last time before setting his phone down, the weight of it all pressing heavy on his chest. She’d moved on, built something new, and all he had were the memories of a life that felt like it belonged to someone else. Dieter sighed, staring out at the LA skyline, wondering if he’d ever find his way back to something that felt like home.

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[earthtoharlow]

Flashing Lights

Jack Harlow x SingerOC

Series Masterlist

04) The Sweetest Hangover

FUCK

Maryse squints at the sunlight coming in from the open window. Rolling over in the bed to grab the bottle of water she always leaves on her nightstands after late nights out, she immediately realizes that she’s not in her own bed.

Maryse's eyes fly open and quickly sits up. She grabs her head with both hands. Her head was pounding, this might be the worst hangover ever.

Gazing around the room, she notices a few plaques on the wall with Jack’s face on it. So she was either at his place in LA or she went home with a guy who was obsessed with the rapper.

Speaking of which she threw the blanket off her and was happy to see that she had clothes on. She was wearing a white shirt that said missionary jack and some blue new balance sweatpants. Yup, definitely at Jack’s place.

Her mouth was as dry as sandpaper. She needed a toothbrush and water, pronto. Maryse sat up and she untangled herself from the bedsheets, and slowly climbed out of bed.

As she walked down the hallway she smelt coffee coming from the kitchen. Walking in, Maryse saw Jack leaning against the counter wearing nothing but gray sweatpants. This man was going to be the death of her.

“Morning.” He told her with a smile upon seeing her before turning back around to turn the coffee maker off. Then walking towards her. He looked too fucking good in those grey sweatpants and messy curls. Maryse knew she must’ve looked run over with her messy curls and last night's makeup. “Do you want something to eat?”

Maryse immediately shook her head. The thought of eating something right now made her physically ill.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, how the hell did I get here?” Maryse then asked him. Last thing she could remember from last night was falling over laughing with Saweetie.

Jack began to laugh a little. “Well funny story, you were supposed to be calling an Uber and ended up calling me instead to pick you up from the bar.”

Maryse's hands flew to cover her face in embarrassment. God why! “Oh my god, Jack I’m so so sorry!”

Jack laughed again, “It’s okay, Maryse. It’s really no problem at all. I am your hero, after all.” He said before giving her a wink.

“Well, thank you. I just hope I didn’t say anything too embarrassing.” Lord knows the things that could’ve possibly came out her mouth

There was a slight pause from Jack like he was thinking things over. Maryse would’ve mentioned it if a wave of dizziness didn’t hit her.

“…nothing embarrassing I promise.”

“Good.” Maryse said and rested her head on the counter. “I’m never drinking again” she mumbled.

All she could hear was Jack’s laughter and cabinets opening and closing. Seconds later, she could feel him nudging her in the arm.

“Here, drink some water.” Taking it thankfully, Maryse drowned the water. Shaking her head when he asked if she wanted more.

“Since we were already going to hang out today, how about I quickly get ready and then I can take you back to your Airbnb and then we can go get lunch?” Jack suggested

Maryse lifted her head. “You still want to hang out with me after last night?” She had just made a fool out of herself, again in front of this man.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Jack asked before leaving the room to get ready.

Couple hours later Jack and Maryse were off to West Hollywood to grab some lunch. Jack claimed this cafe was the best cure for her hangover.

“No way, you ordered pineapple pizza in front of me. I don’t think we can hang out anymore!” Maryse said to him jokingly.

“Oh no you’re one of them?!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

They were sitting across from each other, Jack leaned in closer to her. “You’re one of those people who gatekeep what to put on pizza.”

All Maryse could do was scuff at him, and roll her eyes. “You’re literally so white.”

It was Jack’s turn to scuff. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, I felt the need to remind you. But fruit does not belong on pizza! You do know you’re mixing fruit with tomato sauce.”

“It’s healthy for you!” Jack exclaimed

All Maryse could do was simply laugh at his silliness. “Oh please wise one, I’d love to see you explain how it’s healthy.” She said leaning back in her chair, arms crossed with one eyebrow raised.

“Alright fine, pineapple is a good source of vitamin c…”

“Uh huh”

“And according to nutritionists” Maryse quickly cut him off. “Which nutritionist? Name them.”

“Stop interrupting me! Like I was saying, nutritionists say that yellow vegetables or fruits prevent you from getting colon cancer…”

“What a load of nonsense!”

Maryse’s face hurt from laughing so hard, seeing her laugh was making Jack laugh as well. Anyone watching them would’ve thought the two were on a date with the way they leaned into each other as they spoke. As their pizza came and went they stayed tucked away in the corner of the cafe with Maryse eventually moving to sit next to him in the booth. 

“So how many instruments can you actually play?” Jack asked her curiously. 

Maryse started counting on her fingers trying to figure out how many she could play. “Piano, drums, and the guitar; electric, bass, & acoustic.” 

Jack’s eyes widened, shocked that she said that so casually. He was impressed and made sure to tell her so. 

“That’s insane, how did you have the time to learn all of them?” Jack asked. The only instrument he could play was the recorder and he only knew one song which was hot cross buns.

“Remember I told you how my dad taught guitar and that my mom was a music teacher?” Jack nodded and Maryse continued. “I didn’t learn the drums until I was much older but playing guitar is part of who I am. I remember watching my dad teach others how to play and thinking how freaking cool he looked. I wanted to be just like him so I begged him to teach me. The rest is history as they say.”

“Wow, I’m sitting next to a rock star!” Jack exclaimed. 

Maryse laughed at that. “Damn right you are.”

For the first time since they got to the cafe there was a moment of silence. The silence was thankfully comfortable as the two stared into each other's eyes. Maryse was the first to break eye contact when her phone vibrated from a text from her producer and flashed the time. 

Maryse gave him an apologetic smile before reading his text. Apparently they cooked up a fire beat that they needed her to listen to asap. Maryse sighed while reading it, not wanting to end her day with Jack so soon. 

Hearing her sigh, Jack asked what’s wrong. “They just need me at the studio, right now. To be honest, I really don’t want to end our day together.”

Jack was happy to hear that she was having as much fun as he was hanging out with her. “I don’t either, but we’re both going to be in LA for a while working on our albums so I’ll see you soon.” He said as they both stood up to leave the cafe.

As they were walking out to Jack’s car, Maryse noticed a few paparazzi across the street taking photos, she rolled her eyes at the sight. Paying attention to them and not where she was going, Maryse ended up tripping over her own feet just a little. Looking up hoping no one noticed, she looked over and saw Jack holding in his laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Maryse told him with a laugh of her own, before giving him a light shove. Jack could only laugh harder. 

Maryse hopped in as Jack held the door open for her. The pair rode in comfortable silence to the studio. She couldn’t help but look over and watch Jack as he drove. There was something unbelievably sexy about a man driving. The side profile, the look of concentration, driving with one hand…it was almost too much for Maryse. 

From the corner of his eye, Jack could see Maryse watching him with an expression he had never seen on her before. Like she was in awe of him. 

“What?” He questioned. Jack watched as she shook her head a little, and gave him a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

“Oh, Nothing.” Before looking out her window.

Once they arrived at the studio, Jack came around to open the door for Maryse. They both stood in front of each other, trying to find ways to kill time so they didn’t have to leave one another. 

“I guess I should head inside before they start looking for me.” Maryse says with a sad smile. Jack nodded before wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight against his chest. If Maryse could stay in his arms forever she would. The hug lasted longer than it should’ve but they finally pulled away. Jack with a hand still on her arm he said. “I’ll call you later, ok?” There was a slight pause before Jack bent down to her height and placed a kiss on Maryse’s cheek, dangerously close to her mouth. 

Shocked, Maryse tried not to gasp at the spark the simple kiss sent through her. After pulling away, Maryse waved bye and before walking towards the entrance of the studio. She had to get away so she could freak out privately.

Once she got to the door she turned back around, happy to see Jack still there watching her. He was leaning against his car with his hands in his pockets. Maryse gave him another wave which he returned and walked inside. 

Feeling giddy after that kiss, Maryse let out a quiet squeal and skipped a little down the hall not realizing Jack was watching with a smile on his face.

JACKHARLOW

liked by saweetie, lifeofmonet, urbanwyatt, yungskylark, neelamthadhani, killtrav, natewilliams and 709,487 others

jackharlow: first date 😍

view all 10,678 comments

user: omg you guys finally met properly

user: ok this kinda cute

natewilliams: 🤔

user: oh she hates you

user: yikes at nate

user: damn jack why she wanna go home lmaoo

dojacat: you got her out the house after a night out????

user: her voice tho

user: maybe your are vibes off idk

saweetie: how is she functioning right now? i feel like death

lifeofmonet: I'm not

lifeofmonet: i didn't even know you were filming me!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: kinda a filler chapter but let me know what you think! :)

Tag List:

(message me if you’d like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @toocriticalharlow @mace23477 @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @laylasbunbunny @ilyangelsxo @comehomeimissyou @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome

[caustinen]

Do you have anymore Hollywood AU h/cs? I love them

I had no ideas when I started this but I hope you like this!! Thank you for inspiration <3

hollywood au! pda video leaks

Despite making their relationship public they keep PDA low, practically non-excistant if Bucky’s crabby hands don’t count — he’s naturally touchy, so he doesn’t even notice he tends to have his arm around Buck’s shoulders as they walk down the street, or behind his chair as they sit at a group table in restaurants or galas, or a hand on his waist or back or thigh or hand, he loves to hold hands!!

That is why it causes another shock in social media when a paparazzi video of them making out HEAVILY at the back of a car leakes and then spreads everywhere. It’s dark-ish and pixely and doesn’t have a sound but they’re recognaizable enough and the heat is very present in their movements, making their fanbase absolutely insane.

John wakes up to his phone having blown up with notifs and he’s mortified when he sees what’s up. It’s clear the footage has been taken from the driver’s seat on their way home somewhere, and he immediately arranges everything with his assistant to make sure they never work with that particular car service again and for the person responsible for this to be found.

The few moments before Gale who’s still unaware of any of this stirrs next to him are killing John, of course it has go be a rare morning when he oversleeps Bucky (he had a late night at the office the day before). Bucky wonders how he should break the news, while he knows they both knew this was always a possibility he’s scared of freaking out Gale and esp wouldn’t want to ruin his day immediately upon waking up to a rare day off.

His sophisticated way to break the news ends up being the usual way, the moment Gale’s toussled blonde hair lifts enough to smile at him sleepily and murmur a low ”morning beautiful” Bucky’s heart clenches and he pushes his phone to his face and scrambles out of the bed to the kitchen with a hurriedly blurted out ”I’m sorry”

He’s just put the coffee machine on and bread to the toastmaker before sitting down by the table and burrowing his head to his hands when he hears Buck walk in, his bare feet making soft tuds on the wooden floor.

To his surprise gentle hands first push his face away from his hands and the table until he’s sitting up and then a familiar weight sits down his lap and wraps his hands around a sleepwarm waist. He presses his face to Gale’s neck and inhales the comfort of the scent of familiar soap, sweat and washing machine powder.

They sit like that for a while, Bucky’s heartrate coming down slowly to normal as Gale’s weight and tender fingers through his curls calm him expertedly. Finally Bucky takes a deep breath and looks up, and finds Gale looking sleepy/tired but not tense, a small smile on his lips as their eyes meet.

”Are you okay?” The question asked in Gale’s soft morning voice catches him by surprise. ”Am I- Yeah, I… I guess?” He hasn’t even really considered that yet — he was too preoccupied with being worried for Gale, but now he realizes part of his mix of emotions is the dull anxiety of having had his own and his partners privacy preached once again, something that he can never quite get completely used to after all these years. He squeezes Gale tighter and let’s himself feel the sadness for a second before taking a deep breath and kissing the shoulder in front of him.

”…Not that great if I’m honest, I guess. How about you?” Gale wraps his arm around his shoulder and kisses his forehead. ”I guess not the greatest either, but shit happens.” John is still staring up at him, admiring his beauty and appreciating the calm he always brings him. ”Yeah, I guess it does.” He pauses only for a brief moment before continuing. ”You’re not mad?”

His fiancé’s expression turns into a confused one for a second before leaning to bop his nose with his, probably sensing how tense John got under him. ”I’m mad at whoever decided it was okay to film us without permission. I’m mad at that person for posting it and I’m mad at people for spreading it around.” He sighs and shakes his head. ”But it goes without saying I’m not mad at you, right?”

John can’t help it when his lips tremble as he speaks. ”If it wasn’t for my job, or me wanting be able to talk about you on shows-” ”John.” Gale takes his face between his hands and makes him look at him. ”It’s not your fault. I love to be able to talk about you too, and post pictures about you, and be excited about our wedding and go out with you without having to worry about it. I don’t love to know all my clients and co-workers will be able to see me getting it on with my man without our permission like that but honestly? If you take that out of the equation it would’ve been quite hot to see how you look when you look at me, how we look when we’re together.”

They’ve taken pictures of each other over the years of course but they’ve been very careful with even those in the fear of being found out. While Gale hates paparazzi he’s found that seeing them from an outsider view sometimes gives him butterflies because before going public they only had few candids taken by the very few friends who knew about them before, and seeing how in love they both look makes him giddy despite the media attention that it comes with. The months leading up to the wedding have anyways been a new love bubble that not having to hide anymore only emphasized.

John turns his head enough to kiss Gale’s palm, then his wrist and finally leans for his lips. The kiss is chase and quick and yet it grounds John back to the present. After, he leans his cheek to Gale’s shoulder and squeezes him closer, moving his legs underneath a bit to keep them from going numb which slides him even further into his lap.

”Hm. Did you know I love you?” ”I had an idea, but I love to be proven right so you can tell me again.” ”I love you.” Gale smiles at him and turns to straddle him in the little chair as good as he can, elbows on his shoulders. ”I love you too.”

At Gale’s shy suggestion, they end up making a little video just for the two of them later that day, and that memory overlays the bad one from the morning as he rewatches their bodies moving together seemlessly, saved for their eyes only when he’s filming his final project before their marriage and homenymoon vacations abroad.

Bonus: Gale ends up doing a cameo in this movie Bucky films before they get married: it’s a 007 style agent film where he plays the smooth leading man. There’s a scene where he’s in a casino playing poker, and before he plays a big move he turns to a hottie next to him and pulls him into a passionate kiss. When the man pulls away it’s Gale, and he smacks his face in return. Bucky’s charachter turns back to the table with a big smirk and wins big.

More of Hollywood Au here!

This turned into more of a drabble than anything else, hope you enjoyed 💘

[scifrey]

Keepsakes

Status: Ongoing Ficlet collection; unbeta'd

Series: the Hob Adherent series

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Includes some comics canon, and some cameos from the wider Gaiman-verse (including the Good Omens and Lucifer television shows), but it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the story.

Rating: Mature-ish.

Warnings: Discussions of grief and in-canon character death. Some sexytimes. Some whomp and hurt/comfort.

Relationships:  Morpheus | Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Eleanor | Hob Gadling’s Wife/Hob Gadling (past)

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Patrick the Bartender, Harriet Butler, Matthew the Raven

Summary: Short ficlets set in the Hob Adherent world, based on prompts received from readers. Feel free to DM me or leave prompts in the comments, and if it resonates with me, I may write up a ficlet! Thank you for the inspiration in advance.

Set amid the events of Cling Fast and Carpe Diem

READ ON AO3 OR READ BELOW:

Postcards

"So, a sword in Buckingham's army, a bandit, a printer, a shipwright and then a merchant middleman for the dockyards, a knight, a beggar, investment broker--"

"Slaver," Hob interrupts Harriet as she counts off his professions on her fingers one slow, sunny afternoon at The New Inn. "Call the thing what it was."

Hari offers him a sympathetic smile. They're the only ones in the pub proper today, as Patrick is off to tend his ailing mother, Dee doesn't come in Mondays, and Morph is having lunch with his editor.

"After which you were an MP and staunch abolitionist, a soldier again in America for the North, an industrialist and labor rights advocate, a yuppie and silicone valley early adopter--"

"Apple paid for most of this," Hob agrees, selecting a glass and checking it for water spots or lipstick stains.

"--and now a professor and publican. Am I missing any?"

“Oh!” Hob remembers as he pulls a pint for her. "And I was ruler of Hell."

She leans across the bar from her stool, and thwacks his arm. “Fuck off, you were not, you old liar,” Hari laughs.

"Was so!" Hob protests, setting her beer down in front of her. "Ask my husband. He was there. I was ruler of Hell for thirteen minutes and seventeen seconds on my six-hundred and sixty-sixth birthday."

Hari raises a challenging eyebrow at Hob over her pint glass as she takes a sip. "I won't believe a thing the Prince of Stories tells me," she says decisively, when she sets the beer back down. "And I don't believe you."

Hob pulls a postcard from L.A. off the bar back, where it's been pinned to a corkboard among a handful of others, all from the same city. This card depicts a cartoon devil drawn over a photo of the Hills, lounging on the iconic Hollywood sign. It says "Greetings from Sin City!" in bright yellow font.

Hob hands it to Hari to inspect. Her face gets drawn as her eyes flick over the handwritten note on the back.

"To my fellow former ruler of Hell; I did it! I opened a nightclub, just like you suggested. Visit me at LUX any time you'd like, Hobsie. xxx Lucifer Morningstar," Hari reads in a voice that grows increasingly strangled.

She hands the card back to Hob with trembling fingers. Then she shotguns the rest of her pint.

"So hell is real, then," Hari warbles.

Hob shrugs. "Everything is real. Humans create gods, not the other way around. If someone believes in it, it exists."

Hari nods thoughtfully. "I suppose you would know, being married to a god."

Hob chuckles. "Well, former god-ish. And don't worry, only people who believe they deserve to go to Hell actually do. Self-punishment or fulfilling prophecy, or something. I try not to think to much about that Celestial stuff."

Hari nods again, and without asking, Hob refills her pint glass. He has a feeling she's going to need it.

"But it is something I'm going to have to worry about," Hari says softly, accepting the drink with a nod.

"Not any time soon, I hope," Hob says, folding his arms on the bar top and leaning close to offer her a comforting look. "And when it does happen, I can promise you that my sister-in-law is gentle and kind. You have nothing to worry about."

Harriet runs her arthritis gnarled finger up and down the side of the glass, collecting up the condensation. "You know, that is actually a comfort." She looks up at Hob with a wicked little grin. "Especially knowing your husband."

Hob throws his head back and laughs.

[firemenenthusiast]

lol this is random but Archie or whoever is in charge needs to HURRY the hell up with that Lurker movie. like im glad that he's relaxing and having fun n all that but my god it's taking FOREVERRRR. I don't want to sound like entitled or anything but there's barely been any anything else about the movie, not even crumbs really, well I know he was in his pink hair era and the video of him on the stage (i think it was for a scene but idk don't take my word lol) but it wasn't for that long. like did we ever even get any details about what it would be about besides that my girl Havana was in it??? idk I just need more new Archie characters to get obsessed with and occupy my headspace 😭😭😭, and hopefully this time he'll get his flowers because the salt burn era did NOT give him attention he deserved. like Archie did not act out Farleigh in such a amazing and interesting way for the both of them to be overlooked. but then again i don't think salt burn got enough attention either, like in the sense that it felt like everyone stopped talking about it in a few months 🥲. it still surprises me that Farleigh didn't get popular enough on tiktok and Tumblr (a little bit) because I would think he's THE ideal character that people would fawn and thirst over while simultaneously psychoanalyzing him 🤷🏾‍♀️

BRO I KNOW RIGHT ??? i dont know how long they’re gonna make us wait but it sure feels like FOREVER since it wrapped. and i dont think the shooting took that much time for it to take THIS long to come out ? like i already am so ready to write for oliver the singer and IM SOOOO READY for lurker in general.

also yeah saltburn had its 5 seconds of fame and thats IT. now people barely talk about it and some even have forgotten about it 😭 and omg yes archie potrayed farleigh so well i have to keep reminding myself that he’s a character and not a real person. also people were too focused on the surface level scenes like the bathtub scene and the graveyard scene. farleigh had his favourite side character moment but imo it should’ve gone for atleast longer than it had.

farleigh is the perfect side character that i would fall head over heels for just like how i do with other side characters from other shows. i think its because he only had like 5mins of screentime that people overlooked him and people focused on jacob elordi more. but yk its more common for people to obsess over the main character especially a conveniently attractive one at that. farleigh was complex and had depth and i guess people didnt favor that as much. anyways i do think that its also because saltburn came out at the wrong time. if only it came out in summer i think it would’ve gotten the recognition it deserves and most importantly i want people to appreciate archie’s work in it more than they do now. i want him receiving AWARDS. dont get me started on how there was a strike when his biggest main character movie came out. i could only imagine how frustrating that must’ve been.

tbh i think archie’s not one to really chase after the typical hollywood recognition. he just wants to do what he loves, enjoy what he’s doing and live a good life. i also think that he has great self respect so you wont catch him doing anything and everything just to be recognized. eventho i dont know him personally, i do think he looks a bit exhausted and i hope he’s resting well rn. as much as i want more projects featuring him, i want him to be happy. we can still talk about him all the time on here and i’ll keep writing for him 😜

[elvisabutler]

I just wanted to start by saying I love your writing! I've read your BDE series, Dove series, and Queen of Graceland series, and I have had feelings I'm not sure I should enjoy while reading all three, even though I am almost 30. 😂🫣 Since your requests are currently open, I was wondering if you would ever be interested in writing something specifically for '60s-era movie Elvis? This is his husband era, and I love it so much. He is a clean, well-dressed, progressive man who is also a girl dad, and you know that he leaves the laundry in the hamper, makes the bed, and wears a tiara at his daughter's tea parties. 😂 If you have the time and inspiration, I would absolutely love your take on some domestic fluff with him, maybe taking care of a pregnant partner or helping set up a new baby's room? Thank you for being so awesome and sweet, and I hope you have a great weekend/week!

we plan a big family

summary: elvis doesn't always get time off to spend with you and his gaggle of children, but when he does he likes to make the most of it. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t. pairing: elvis presley x female reader ( nicknamed belle ) word count: 1888 warnings: pregnancy. babies. a bit of innuendo involving oral at the end. kids being kids. minorly gross eating. honestly y'all this is fluffy as all hell. 60s elvis. author’s note: anon!!! my darling, this was originally going to be an entirely different fic but i figured you liked queen of graceland and this slotted weirdly well into it that i went okay we're gonna write it as a queen of graceland verse thing. but you're speaking my language on 60s movie elvis. that is my man just as much as big daddy if not more. my ken doll looking butthead. i'm delighted you enjoy my fics and that they've made you feel things you don't know if you should enjoy lol. also- listen you should know the feelings my 31 year old has felt reading some stuff on here. lawd have mercy. for those of you who don't know this takes place in my queen of graceland verse and can be read as either austin elvis or elvis and happy father's day to those who celebrate and happy sunday to those who don't! also. i live to see the excitement/comments that come from this fic and any fic i write endlessly and will always soak them up like a sponge. i'm also open to requests from this verse.

Elvis figures there's something about the fact that he grew up without a single living sibling that fueled this strange desire he had to have at least three children. Back with June and back with Anita he had known— he had pictured that little Elvis—the first little Elvis Presley running around with his siblings, laughing and having every bit of fun he's had to enjoy with cousins and neighborhood kids. He's always pictured his girl being a carbon copy of their mother except with his eyes that he can't resist when she pouts. Figures his wife would call him a pushover and that'd be that.

Then he met you and lord almighty and above, he can't help but figure the Lord gifted him the perfect woman to give him all of this. Sure, first set of kids had been conceived and born under less than ideal circumstances with everyone following practically one right after the other but he had made a joke one time when you were pregnant yet again after Jesse that you and him had always planned a big family and he'd be damned if the two of you didn't have it.

Hollywood finds it a little weird, and he knows this, knows that his costars find you to be an absolute delight when you bring the kids on set, a set of ducklings walking behind their waddling mother. Knows that his work schedule isn't always the best but he does try and make time for you and the kids. Truth be told any second he has a break it's spent with you and the kids. It aggravates the Colonel to no end but he remembers what it's like to not have his daddy around and he'd be damned if he did that to his kids.

"Mama!" His ears and mind register the shrill cries of his eldest daughters in the morning as he hears to groan beside him, attempting to move your head to burrow it into the pillow. The latest set of twins inside you had kept you up for far longer than was advised in your state and it showed in the bags under your eyes and the way you blink blearily at Elvis. After a moment you start to try and get out of bed, struggling to shift your weight before Elvis puts his arm across you and pulls you back closer to him.

"Oh no ya don't. I got'em lil mama," he murmurs against your neck earning a shiver from you before he pulls away. "You just rest here with those little hellions."

Your mouth opens in protest before you hear the squeak of the bed springs signaling that Elvis has already stood up. If he's up and it's a rare day off he has from filming or recording you can stay put. A relieved sigh leaves your lips as you sink back into the bed, your hand rubbing your stomach, willing the twins to stay asleep. Elvis leans over to give you a short peck of a kiss before brushing a bit of your hair out of your face.

"I'll tell the cook what to make for breakfast. Should manage a couple hours for ya. Rest up, Mama."

"'member, we gotta put the other crib up. Jus' in case they come early." A yawn overpowers the last few words you try to speak even as Elvis nods.

"That's an after lunch thing, darlin'. Relax and rest or I'll let 'em inside," Elvis threatens playfully as he walks to the door. The second he's outside, he's greeted by his eldest daughters tackling him in a hug.

"Swear y'all are gettin' stronger by the day. Damn near broke my back."

Elvis isn't necessarily big on routines when it comes to his kids, something about him preferring to be the one who spoils the kids with everything he couldn't have as a child. It's why despite Elizabeth and Loretta being awake, three out of the other four are still asleep, with Rebecca occupying a comfy spot in her father's arms.

What he is big on his making sure they keep their rooms organized and clean for your sake. Loretta and Elizabeth look so much like you that he has to take a moment to not fall for the matching puppy dog looks they give him in an attempt to weasel out of making their bed. After all, hadn't those eyes of yours gotten the pair of you in trouble in the first place?

"Ya know the rules I got for ya. Ain't askin' much, just a made bed and your pjs in the basket. Wanna tell me ya ain't doin' this for ya mama when 'm on set?" Elvis asks, shifting Rebecca on his shoulder. "'Cause ya know the punishment for that."

"No!!! No Daddy. No, we do it. We promise! We just don't wanna— not right now," Elizabeth whines ever the more talkative one out of the two of them. "Can't we make tea first?"

Elvis eyes the table in their room that has not one, but two pillows on it before turning back to look Elizabeth dead in the eye. "And jus' where did ya plan on givin' it to me. Got pillows on the table. Can't make tea without a table, yittle."

Loretta looks up at her daddy and realizes far before Elizabeth that they have lost this battle and moves to grab her pillow from the table, "he's right, Lizzy. Come on— if we hurry we can have the party 'fore pancakes."

Those prove to be the magic words as in a flash Elvis finds himself dragged to a little tiny chair he barely fits in while his oldest daughters rush through getting new clothes on and their beds made— in some kind of way. Once they were done they sat right down in front of him and placed a tiara on his head. "Princess Daddy, would you like some tea?"

He grins and shifts their younger sister yet again as he grabs a cup. "Why yes Princesses Loretta and Elizabeth. I'd love some."

The smell of bacon is what finally wakes you up, your body stretching as best as it can as you try and figure out just how far away the scent is before realizing it's in the same room as you. Your eyes blink slowly as they focus on your husband and your kids dressed and holding plates filled with food.

"What— What's this?" You ask with a yawn. "Shouldn't you be downstairs?"

Elvis laughs before setting Rebecca down next to you and motioning for the others to join her all while trying to not drop their plates. Without missing a beat you grab Anthony and Aaron's plates as the clamber up and only give them the plates back when they plop themselves down on the bed. "Maybe. But they wanted to eat wit' ya. So did I. Figured ya were still tired so we brought breakfast to ya."

"Ya gonna get crumbs ev'rywhere," you try and argue before Aaron takes that moment to shove a piece of his bacon in your mouth to silence you. "Guess I ain't gotta choice. Pass my plate, daddy."

At your playful tone he lets out another laugh and hands you plate as he climbs onto the bed, scooting in next to you. "Hope it's to ya likin', mama."

"Bacon could be a lil' softer, but it'll do fine." Your answer is clearly a joke as you shove the bacon in your mouth with a speed that startles Elvis. A question comes tumbling out of your mouth with a few bacon crumbs as you chew. "What time isit?"

"Ten AM. Didn't let ya sleep the whole day away," he murmurs with bacon in his own mouth. Watching as the gears turn inside your head as you look at your six children and raise an eyebrow. "Don't ya be sayin' it. They got clothes on. All the pjs are in the hampers. Beds look kinda made, but we ain't running an army base in this house."

A snort leaves your mouth before you have a chance to stop it. "Kinda made, huh? Guess that's the best I can ask for wit' daddy not helpin' the yittle hands."

Your youngest daughter pats Elvis's arm almost in a bit of a slapping motion and you have to bite your lip to try and not giggle even as he picks her up and scrunches up his face. "Now what's yittle Becky Wecky doin' hittin' daddy? Hm? Punishin' me for mama? Gonna make me hope one of yer new siblin' is a girl I can have on m''side. Yittle traitor."

Her answer to him is a simple raspberry filled with spit in his face and you finally start to lose it, accidentally spraying bacon crumbs on the bed and in one of your children's hair.

"Ew!!! Mama!"

It's another two hours before you manage to get out of bed and the children are off running amuck in the house as you sneak into the nursery. It's Rebecca's room for right now, but when the twins arrive she's going to be in her own room with her older sisters. You're pretty sure these are going to be your last children, if only because if you have many more you're not sure even Elvis's income can take care of them. The thoughts swirl around in your head and distract you to the point where you don't realize Elvis is behind you until you feel his arms wrap around you and feel his chin on your shoulder.

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yourn?" The question's simple enough but you hum and wave your hand in a sign for him to ignore it.

"Nothin', Elvis. Jus' thinkin' you said this was an after lunch plan— you putting the other crib in here. Figure I can make it an after breakfast one.

Against your shoulder you feel the muscle in his jaw tense before feeling his exhale against your neck. "Drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Presley. What's in it for me? Do I get a reward for doin' it early?"

You turn to face him and shrug, "your wife's love and appreciation. What more could you want?"

You're quite certain Elvis can see the mirth in your eyes and the way you lift up your eyebrows in what you imagine is a questioning and yet innocent look. Thankfully that same mirth is reflected back at you with a trace hint of arousal as he looks you up and down.

"A bit of dessert 'fore my lunch. I'm a grown man, darlin'. I oughta eat so I keep these handles ya like so much," he whispers, leaning in a little closer and lifting your chin up to look directly in your eyes. "I drag it in here, we head to the bedroom when everyone's nappin'?"

"And you get t'eat the sweetest thing this side of the Mississippi, Mr. Presley?" The joke falls from your lips without a second thought as Elvis starts to laugh a full bellied laugh, tears erupting from his eyes the more he laughs.

"Like ya read my damn mind, Mrs. Presley. We gotta a deal? Can we shake on it?"

"Only if ya get that ice cream I like afterward."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted y'all know the drill with the taglist by now.

[thefriendlyferretwriter]

A new side of you: Waltz of emotions

Pairing: Eugene 'Flash' Thompson x reader

Summary: Surprised, again and again.

Warning: 13k words, Tension, tension, tension, angst, a bit of fluff, OCs, don't know what else to warn you about.

A/N: I feel like this is standard by now but sorry again for being such a slow writer, I hope the fic is enough to be forgiven for my usual tardiness. Might have edited but I'm not a native speaker so get ready for plenty of mistakes, enjoy!

Tags: (Don't hesitate to tell me if you want to be added or removed, and thank you again for your feebacks ❤️) @loxerclu8 @wheelerzluv @ray-of-sunrise @m00nkn1ghts

People's view of the costume is accurate. The fabric is thin and flexible but unfortunately, it is quite a cold way to fight crimes during the chilly nights of New York.

"That was awesome! I wonder if it'll end up on the internet?"

"I doubt it. If it does end up there it'll be out of frame and shaky. The police were quite insistent when they were shoving people to safety," I say feeling the breeze as I swing around at full speed.

Landing with a huff I realize I'm out of breath, "Ned." I pant, "Remind me to get a custom binder, this one is killing me."

"I told you! You can't just buy any binder from the internet. It's like corsets, of course they are uncomfortable if they are not tailored for you!"

Your vendetta against Hollywood has reached another level," I say taking another deep breath.

With a leap I swing from the American Museum of Natural History and land on a school's rooftop.

A buzz makes me pause and crouch to check my phone and see a second call coming in from May.

"I got to go May is on the other line."

"Okay, 'night."

"'Night."

Swiping on my phone I wait for the inevitable.

"Where are you?!"

I try to defuse the damage as I look around, "I am at the park close to the flat," I draw out slowly.

"…Which park?"

…

"Do not tell me you're close to Central Park which is on the other side of the city."

"Okay, I won't say it."

"Damnit! you know I don't want you farther than Long Island at night!"

"I know, I know!" I whine, "But there was this guy with a huge Scorpion armor and he was doing mass destruction! The police couldn't do it alone they needed help!" I protest.

"Before being Spiderman you're my niece and my niece will obey the very few rules I put in place for her safety."

"Don't you think the fact that I can knock out people 3 times my size should allow me a bit of indulgence on those rules?"

"No young lady I read a ton of books on this and I know how this ends."

"How?" I ask curiously.

"Mostly teen pregnancy."

"Wow! Okay let's not be dramatic now, shall we?"

"And juvie," May continues her list.

"May I fight crimes, I don't commit it."

"Listen we have a system and it works, I don't get sarcastic with my boss and you don't go farther than Long Island past 11 PM."

"In retrospect, I think we should've thought harder on those rules."

"Too late, the system works and it's flawless. Now swing your ass back home before Spiderman gets grounded."

"Yes ma'am."

"Love you," she says smugly.

The line dies and I breathe out the annoyance I feel to then breathe in the fresh evening air.

Tearing off my mask I try to crack my neck and let it hang down to massage and release the night's tension when my eyes catch a familiar sigh.

Flash?

He sits on a bench with his phone in hand looking perplexed.

It's been a week since we last saw each other, or even talked. I didn't want to bother him and I have the feeling it's the same for him.

I look down at my wrist and fumble with the different settings before I find and activate the voice modificator.

Swinging down, I drop on the cemented ground and accidentally startle him as he jumps and stumbles to the floor.

"Oh shit, sorry I didn't mean to scare you," I say genuinely with my voice coming out deeper thanks to the device.

Stumbling around to step back up, Flash looks at Spiderman with wide eyes and his jaw on the floor.

A torrent of curses comes out of his mouth along with an excited laugh of disbelief.

"I can't believe it, it's you!" he says and motions to me up and down.

"Oh yeah, it's me!" I say rethinking my decision to offer guidance disguised as Spiderman in front of Flash Thompson.

"Oh my god I was having such a bad night and now I'm talking to Spiderman!"

"Yeah, that's awesome! Listen, I saw you from up there and you looked troubled and honestly a bit underdressed," I point to his light shirt.

"Oh yeah," he says more calmly looking down at his outfit, "I just needed to take a walk to think about-"

He hesitates.

"No that's not important."

"No way, tell me, that's why I came down here," I say sitting on the bench inviting him to join me.

It's not the first time that Spiderman has a sit-down with someone in distress; words being as useful as a handful of punches.

He sighs and sits down, "There's this um-Charity thing and my mom told me I had to bring a date and I told her I would but let's say it's easier said than done."

"Why's that? Having trouble finding a date?" I tease.

"No," he chuckles, "No actually I already know who I want to invite, but I don't know if she would say yes, and even then I don't really know where we stand. Inviting her could compromise everything," he says sliding his hands down his face with a pained sigh.

Is it me?

Who am I kidding? It's not because we kissed once that I'm his only date choice.

"Alright, so you have an idea. Why not ask her?"

"Because she could say no and I really do not want to have the conversation that would follow after that."

"What conversation?"

"You know the conversation!" he shouts full of frustration as he stands up from the bench, "The one a girl gives you when she's not interested in you. The one that goes 'It's not you, it's me' or the 'We're just friends' except in this case I'm not even sure we're friends to begin with!" he finishes his rant pacing left and right.

"That seems complicated," is the only thing I can say after a few moments of tense silence.

"Yeah and also what kind of date would be a charity event?"

"A date?" I choke out.

"I just-I've always been good at reading people, I know whether they hate me or they tolerate me. But recently it's been hard to read her."

I listen silently nodding my head from time to time.

"Before, she just rolled her eyes or would just snap back at me but now she listens to me and she worries about me and I just-I like being around her. I just worry it is all just a front and she's simply gonna drop me or tell me we're not actually friends and she just had pity on me and took me for some sort of charity case."

He finishes sitting back down his head in his hands.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have kissed her." he groans.

I'm thankful for the mask covering my flushed face.

So it is about me.

It couldn't be anyone else. Flash Thompson is a lot of things. Sometimes an idiot, an asshole, even a jerk at times but what everyone always seems to agree on is that Flash Thompson is no player.

"You could always invite her as a friend," I loudly blur out after an awkward pause.

Flash frowns.

"You ask her to be your date and you precise it's as friends," I precise my thought.

"I guess I could try but what if she says no?"

"Well, best case scenario she says yes and you do have a friend. Or worst case scenario, she does pity you and says yes allowing you to hang out with her and convince her to see you as more than that."

He stays silent staring out into the void before snatching his phone out of his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm calling her right now before I chicken out."

Oh shit!

"Wow! Hey there how about we think about it before we make any rash decision," I say standing up from the bench in a hurry.

"What do you mean? you just told me to ask her."

"Listen," I panic and rack my brain for any last-second plan, "Here's what I propose. You walk back home and think about what you're gonna say to her on the way there, and then you call her once you get there."

He pauses, "Yeah okay, that makes sense."

A buzz startles me and reminds me of my curfew.

Trying to stay calm I hurriedly try to bid my goodbyes.

"O-Okay well, I got to go. Hope it works out for you!" I say carefully stepping backward, "As for me I'm expected somewhere so I'm gonna head there!"

"Oh yeah for sure. That's crazy man, I've always wanted to meet you, and now that it's the case you've just helped me!"

He looks back down at his phone's contact and slowly takes a few steps back nodding to me as a goodbye.

"You know what they say. I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, emotionally and physically!" I shout jogging back.

When I'm sure he's far enough, I leap into the air and swing away.

"Wait! Can we take a picture-?!" his demand fades as I shoot my next web.

Answering the phone I reassure May I'm on my way and get a few more calls from Flash that I cannot answer.

The last swing sends me to my bedroom window with a thud as I slide the glass panel up and throw my phone in first before climbing inside in a hurry as my cell buzzes again.

"Is that you?!"

"Yeah, I'm home!" I say sliding my mask off before trying to unzip my suit as I stomp around attempting to slip out of the gear.

Jumping on one foot I try to snatch the blue and red material off my feet and trip falling on the cool wooded floor.

"What was that?"

May's panicked tone and the incessant buzz coming from my phone is overwhelming.

Out of breath and my head still on the floor, I raise my hand and blindly pat around my covers before they brush against the device.

I sit myself up with a grunt and bring the phone to my ear.

"Hi!" I say enthusiast and breathless.

"Hi," he answers back abruptly.

"Everything okay?" I ask dipping my elbow amongst my blanket and burying my hand in my hair to ground it.

"Yeah!" he says back quickly with a lighter tone, "Sorry I just thought I would end up leaving a voicemail and now I just don't remember what it is that I wanted to say," he awkwardly confesses.

"Oh yeah sorry about that I was taking a shower," I skillfully lie.

"You often run out of breath after a shower?"

"No! it's just, I left my phone in my room and I heard it in the shower and started panicking the third time it rang I thought something horrible happened," I spew out.

I'm getting really good at this.

"Oh crap, my bad I didn't think it would-" he sighs, "Of course you would think that, I shouldn't have called at this hour I'm sorry I didn't think."

"No! Really it's nothing. What did you call about?"

Silence on the other line. I let it run until I start thinking he must've hung up and asks if he's still there.

"Yeah um, okay so here I go. There's this charity event that happens like every year and it's kind of badly seen to go alone."

My heart speeds up and hammers against my ribcage. It feels like my blood skyrockets through my body leaving an ice-cold feeling behind that gives me chills. This feeling gets stuck in my throat making me believe I'm struggling to breathe.

"And you'd like me to be your plus one?" I attempt to finish the sentence for him.

"Not like a date or anything like that! More like as…friends?" he ends his sentence with hesitation.

Leave the blood impression right now it feels like I was punched in the guts as the air escapes my lungs in a swift.

"Friends?" I repeat meekly to make sure he is comfortable with the term.

"Yeah if you're up to it?" he asks anxiously in return.

I feel frozen for a moment before my eyes are drawn to my wardrobe.

"Yeah of course. I'd love to go with you," I say putting my phone on speaker before laying it down on my bed.

Standing up with a grunt and newfound confidence, I skip to my closet and push stuff back and forth.

"So what type of event is it exactly?"

"Well, it's a charity but it's a charity on the Upper East Side so…there's going to be a lot of snobby people," he says with an awkward chuckle, avoiding talking about our apparent new friendship.

"So," I draw out, "Dressed up."

"Yup," he confirms.

I sigh pushing a few hangers back, "Well I don't think they'd be much impressed with me," I chuckle embarrassed, "When is the event exactly? Maybe I could go grab something that won't cause a public humiliation," I chuckle throwing yet another hanger back with a huge cling.

"That's where you hate me," he says with a pained voice.

Frowning I look at my phone still lying on my bed.

"The event is tomorrow."

My eyes bulge. I don't feel angry, I'm more surprised than anything else.

"Oh, so that really was a last-minute decision to invite me," I try to say light-heartedly.

'Actually, I already know who I want to invite.'

"It wasn't," he replies softly.

I'm getting better at making him open up. A fact that makes me smile, but I realize that I can't push my luck at the risk of going too far and having him close back up in a blink.

Trying to brush off his confession I decide to joke.

"You know Flash, when people invite you to events they tell you days beforehand," I laugh, "Now I don't even have anything worth wearing to your fancy charity!"

"I'm sorry."

"No I'm not mad it's just-I don't want to walk in with a summer dress on," I chuckle trying to reassure him, "And it takes more than a few hours of shopping to find a dress that looks expensive but is not."

"You don't own a black dress?" he asks confused.

"No."

"Not to generalize but I'm ready to bet every girl owns at least one plain black dress."

"I mean I do but it doesn't fit me anymore," I say putting the black dress at least three times too small against my much-grown self.

After a few moments of silence, I start thinking the invitation is gonna be retracted.

"I might have a solution."

"What is it?"

"Can't tell you."

"And why is that?" I frown trying to conceal my offense with a teasing tone.

"Can't tell you either."

"I'm not liking this."

The other line stays silent for a moment.

"Does that mean you don't want to come anymore?"

"No, that's not what I said," I clear up.

"Good, I'll take care of it, and thank you again. Would you like me to pick you up? Tomorrow I mean."

"Oh no, thank you but I'm sure I can find my way around."

"Okay," I wouldn't bet on it but I think I hear the hint of a smile in his words.

"Hum, when does it start? When do I have to arrive exactly?"

"Oh well you know, there is no designated time but people generally arrive later and leave earlier so no pressure."

"Okay so let's say around 9 PM? How does that sound?"

"Awesome."

"Cool," I smile.

I look around my room sheepishly waiting for a goodbye or any other signs he would like to continue the conversation.

Walking to my bed I spin around and let my ankle bump into my bed's rail letting myself fall back on my covers.

"Cool," he repeats.

"Cool," I reiterate chuckling.

"Thanks again, really."

"It's no big deal I'm sure I'm gonna have fun anyways," I say with a smile.

"Well you know it's a charity event so people are gonna do a LOT of talking."

"Why are you making it sound bad," I chuckle.

"I wouldn't say bad, I'd say boring," he says nonchalantly.

"I think I can handle boring for a night."

"I'll take you on that one," he says almost as a challenge.

My door creaks open and May's frown makes my smile drop.

"Hum I'm sorry but I have to go, see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

"Bye."

"Bye."

When the line goes silent I awkwardly sit up waiting for a scolding or a rant or anything else.

"So?" she asks with her brows raised.

I know she's waiting for an explanation but the news is too important, "I might've been invited to an event tomorrow."

The warmth is too much and in the heat, I throw my cover to the side with the help of my feet to turn around and try to go back to sleep in my haze.

Having opened my blinds and window during the heated night to let in the fresh breeze, the sunlight shines through and highlights my cluttered mess of a bedroom.

The usual New York rumble is accompanied by a merry voice.

"Wakey wakey night owl!"

"May," I whine sleepily, "It's the last days of summer, can't you let me oversleep?"

"Nope because you have a package and I've been trying to guess what's in it for about twenty minutes now."

"Huh?" I say with a hoarse voice.

"Come on, stand up!"

"I don't remember buying anything," I try to reason.

"And I don't remember buying anything either so come on up, up!" she says jumping up and down.

Sliding off my bed a box is thrown onto it. A huge white rectangular box closed and flattered by a black bow wrapped around it like a Christmas present.

I groan.

"I know what it is."

"What?"

"I have nothing to wear for the charity and Flash proposed to help but I thought it would just be a quick drop off not…that," I say with a gesture to the box.

"How nice."

"I guess but I'm uncomfortable getting a dress from him. If it wasn't so last minute I would've bought one for myself but-"

"Didn't you say it was a fancy event?"

"Yeah?" I answer not getting her point.

"Rich people smell a fraud it's better if he's the one dressing you up for tonight."

"Dressing me," I bark a laugh, "Flash would not dress me, maybe his mom helped or-"

I'm cut off by the phone going off in the other room.

As May walks out to reach it I admire the simplicity yet classiness of the box. I smile as I fidget with the bow before tugging on it and letting it loose.

Half-listening to May's phone call I push off the ribbon and lift the lid.

"Holy fuck!"

I throw the lid back on top of the box the corner not fitting back properly and let it slide aside.

"I'll call you right back-what?! What happened?!" May says in a hurry with the phone still glued to her ear.

I face her with my back turned away from my bed where the dress is sitting, "I can't wear that."

"Can't wear what?" she asks walking to my bed and opening the box back.

"Oh wow."

"I know."

"This is gorgeous."

"I know, I can't wear that."

"Wait-why not?"

“It’s too much. It’s the kind of dress you wear to attract attention, not just to walk around at a charity event,” I spit out at full speed as May puts the phone back to her ear and asks the person who is on the other line and who has not bothered to hang up to come forward and open the front door which is not locked.

"I think you're overreacting a little bit. It's just a pretty dress."

Listening to her I gather up the courage to turn back around and have another look at the black glittery dress.

"It's too much! He told me it's an event full of snobby rich people and you know what's gonna happen if I wear this around snobby rich people?"

May straightens up and takes a posh accent, "What a promiscuous little lady you are," she scolds before laughing.

"I'm serious!" I whine taking the dress out of the box.

The dress's length reaches the ground and the long sleeves hang loose. As the front of the dress faces Aunt May, the back view horrifies me.

I choke on my gasp and swiftly turn the dress around.

At the view of the open back of the dress May's eyes match mine as they widen like sausages.

"Oh wow now that's promiscuous," she says with no accent or tease this time.

"What was he thinking?!"

"Nothing. I doubt Flash handpicked this dress himself," she speculates feeling the fabric of the dress.

Her observation is followed by the front door shutting and a voice calling out to May.

"We're in here Happy!"

With a frown, I watch as Happy Hogan appears at the threshold of my bedroom.

"What is he doing here?" I question as I point to him with the dress still in my hands.

"Your aunt said you're going out tonight and she didn't want to stay alone so I proposed to stay with her," he says all the while analyzing the dress up and down before pointing to it, "Where did you get that?"

"It's a gift," May explains.

"No! No no no no no, it's temporary, a temporary borrowed and very expensive looking dress."

"Not just looking," Happy informs me.

My body proves that it is in fact possible to get even more tense.

"What do you mean by that exactly?" I ask with a meek voice.

Seeing my distressed face Happy makes eye contact with May, gauging the situation.

"Well I mean," he draws out walking up to me and grabbing the dress raising it to examine the fabric, "It looks like the kind of dress Tony makes me pick up for Pepper so I figured-"

"Oh my god!" I shout throwing the dress back on my bed.

I walk to my nightstand and reach for my phone.

"What are you doing?" May ask.

"I'm canceling," I say hurriedly.

"What? No!" she protests.

Flash's number is already dialed and the phone is placed at my ear as I shoo both of them out of my room.

Hurrying May out I close the door as the fourth dial rings in my ear.

Somehow the sound of his voice allows me to breathe out.

"Hey, what is it?"

"What the fuck Flash!"

The warmth leaves his voice and worry takes its place, "What is it?"

"The dress!"

"What? what's wrong with it, you don't like it?"

"It's too much!" I exclaim.

"Oh crap, I'm sorry."

"What were you thinking?" I said feeling a little guilty knowing he couldn't have guessed that I wouldn't like the dress.

"Hey in my defense I didn't choose the dress."

"Then who did?!"

"Well I wasn't sure so I kinda asked Lea to choose," he hesitates to say.

My brain freezes and a headache is right around the corner, "Wait, isn't she supposed to be on her honeymoon?" I ask pinching my nose and scrunching my eyes closed.

"She was but she's a big part of the charity so she is flying back for tonight and is gonna finish her honeymoon here in New York."

"Oh and so you let her choose a dress for me not thinking that our way of dressing up might be way different?" I ask incredulously.

"You make it sound bad."

"It is Flash!" I shout hyperventilating, "She's a model and this type of dress is made for the runway, not charity, and not on me."

"Wait so the problem is that it doesn't fit?"

"No!" I groan falling back on my bed beside the same dress that is making me break down.

"I'm sorry but I'm having a hard time understanding the problem right now, do you hate the dress is that what it is?"

"No, I don't hate the dress," I say.

It's true I like the dress, it's a pretty dress.

"Have you tried it on?"

I pause and answer 'no' in a tone that says it should be obvious to him that I would never try on a brand-name dress.

"So what's the issue exactly? You don't dislike the dress and you haven't tried it on so you can't complain that it doesn't fit, so what's up?"

"It's not a normal dress," I explain as a matter of fact.

"A normal dress?" I can hear the tease in his tone.

"Yes, a normal dress." I reiterate.

"And what is a normal dress exactly?"

"A dress that doesn't look like it was made in a studio in a fancy part of Beverly Hills!"

"Okay, I understand, Lea has a particular style."

"And Lea knows how to walk around with people's eyes on her!" I shout convinced that he now understands my point of view, "I just-" I sigh, "I don't want to walk in there and have people looking at me and judging me, especially rich snobby people."

"Oh if that's what scares you I can reassure you right now and tell you that no one will pay you any attention."

"You haven't seen the dress," I say as a matter of fact.

"No, but I can tell you that standing beside me as my da-my plus one, everyone will obviously be too busy admiring me to be paying you any mind."

I snort and try to muffle the noise by cupping my mouth but the unflattering cackle reaches the other end of the phone.

I know he's reassured now that I laughed but it doesn't erase my worry.

I calm down and weigh my request before verbalizing it.

"Could you drive me to the event?" I decided to just come out with it hoping for the best.

"What happened to taking the bus?" He asks genuinely.

"Again, you haven't seen the dress and I'd rather not travel around Queens dressed to the nines. I just want to be safe, you know?"

I know that my safety isn't at risk but dressed like that, a judging stare would be as dreadful as a wandering hand.

I can't hear him but I'm certain he nods agreeing with me.

"Well, it would be an honor to be your knight in shining armor for the night knowing you're actually my savior," he jokes, "But sadly there isn't any carriage available so we will have to settle for my car, I hope that's alright."

"Oh what a shame, I expected nothing less than the fanciest vehicle," I chuckle.

"Sorry Cinderella but fairy godmother only managed to get the dress."

"And I still wonder how she managed to do that," I say turning on my side and feeling the fabric.

"That's a secret…Try the dress on and call me back to tell me how it fits. Or better yet text me, It's kind of crazy around here today."

It is only now that I realize there is noise around him, a lot of noise and that makes me gather that he must already be over there helping to set everything up and I'm here having a meltdown and calling him having a tantrum about a dress.

"I'm so sorry I didn't, I mean if I knew you were busy I would've-"

"No no, it's alright really-" He tries to chime in.

"No I mean you're probably busy, I can't believe I didn't think of that-" I ramble before he cuts me off.

"No really, you're a life-savor Parker. Those events are old-fashioned and you're like forced to have someone with you and I really didn't want to spend my entire night answering the same question over and over again-"

It's his turn to ramble and I find myself listening on liking the idea of him opening up to me.

It is not every day that I get to listen to Flash Thompson ramble, let alone to me.

"It's annoying when people crowd you and ask why you don't have a date with you and they end up dissecting what must be wrong with you to not have a girl on your arm."

"Sounds annoying."

"It is. Sometimes I manage to avoid that kind of event but for this one my family is in charge so," He finishes dragging his word.

"You are forced to participate."

He confirms and gets interrupted by another voice. I frown trying to listen and make up a bit of the conversation going on before he comes back to the line with a sigh.

"I'm sorry it's a bit crazy right now. My mom always goes nuts the day of these events," he says as I can hear Mme.Thompson shouting in the back.

"Okay, that's my cue. Try the dress on and text me okay?"

"Sure," I say with a smile.

"Bye," he says along with another sentence that I cannot decipher, presumably aimed at someone else before the line dies and I'm left lying on my bed retracing the conversation.

I look at the dress once more. The sparkles look more and more inviting instead of revolting and I stand back up fixing myself before I open the door to face both May and Happy.

Making awkward eye contact I see that they are half bent toward my door before they stand straight up and cough to ease the tension.

After a moment of silence where my gaze is enough judgment, I speak up and ask for help.

"Can you help me do my hair?"

Meddling with the final strand of my hair May stands back to admire her work as I add the final touch to my makeup applying the red lipstick with precision.

Closing the cap I stand up and have an overall look at myself as May squeals and hands me my jacket. She asks a few more questions when I head to the door and check if I have everything I need placed in the pouch she lent me for the night.

My brain barely has time to register the questions before I hum and give a half-assed answer as I put my jacket on and try to exit the apartment.

I turn around to hear her give me rule after rule for the night.

"Flash drives you to the event, you stay at this event," she points out referring to the birthday incident where the only reason I wasn't grounded was the fact that my exit saved me from a potential wound from the blowout of fireworks.

"You have your fun and you come home at 1 AM. Not 2, not 3, 1 AM, got it?"

I nod.

"And Flash drives you back, no one else, Flash."

"Yes," I say a bit exasperated.

"And you stay glued to him all night."

"Yes, Aunt May I promise! Can I go now he's waiting for me outside," I lie.

He's not waiting for me outside, as a matter of fact I haven't even sent him a message informing him I'm ready for him to pick me up.

"Okay be careful-And text me both when you arrive and when you're coming home."

I nod at her as I walk backward to the elevator and watch as she smiles before closing the apartment door. I huff loudly and turn around to look down to my phone texting Flash that I'm ready and will be waiting for him outside.

It's when I'm halfway down the elevator that my phone rings.

"Yes?"

"Hey, I just got your text and huh," he draws out.

I don't answer and just let him bask in the silence of the line.

"I'm sorry things were crazy. I'm just now getting ready."

"Wait you're getting ready?! Then when are you coming to pick me up?" I ask walking out of the elevator and pushing the door of the apartment building open letting the New York ambiance bask me in its hurriedness.

The breeze reaches me and I rub my arm getting used to the weather slipping up the back of my jacket and biting at my open back when I notice a…no way.

"Flash what did you do?"

"What-what do you mean what did I do?" he stutters.

"I mean why is there a guy looking at me waiting by a car that looks like it's worth more than the neighborhood," my question is more of a statement.

I hear him curse under his breath.

"I'm really sorry. She told me she would be subtle."

"Who?" I ask taking my eyes off the supposed driver.

"My mom. I told her I had to come to get you but she still needed me around so I insisted and even said I'd call you to push back our meeting but she said it would be disrespectful and that she would send someone."

I stay silent processing all of it.

"I'm sorry I wanted to call and tell you but I just got to my room."

I look back up to the driver and make eye contact before we exchange hasty smiles.

I sigh thinking of this all over walking down the stairs one by one slowly.

"Okay, I guess it wasn't really in your power. But you better be here when I arrive I will not show up and walk around alone." I say firmly.

"Of course," he says in all seriousness.

Telling him I'll see him soon, I hang up and focus my gaze on the driver as I approach him.

"Miss Parker?"

I nod before confirming my identity verbally.

He then motions to the car before opening the door and gesturing for me to step in.

When it clicks shut I am left with the silence of the empty vehicle.

As the buildings go by and I get closer to the venue my stress level rises and I start fidgeting and falling into a cycle of grabbing my phone, second-guessing texting Flash, and then abandoning the idea and letting my body fill up with more anxiety.

The arrival doesn't stop that nagging feeling that causes goosebumps to rush down my spine, that or the wind nipping at my back through my coat.

Walking up the stairs my nerves run wild through my body as my legs shake walking up the stairs.

Reaching the top, I make eye contact with a man standing in front of the doors. Approaching him carefully, I struggle to find my voice and I am cut off in my stutter as he guesses my last name.

Confused, I confirm his guess and my frown must ring a bell for him as he turns to the door, "I was informed that one of Mme.Thompson's guests would arrive alone and I'm guessing it's you," he says as he buzzes me in.

I nod to him as a thank you and continue to walk ahead this time on a soft and long red carpet instead of stone.

The voices, which were mere mumbles turn into booming voices coming from every corner of the room and my coat is starting to make me sweat reminding me that I'll have to discard it soon.

The thought makes me sweat even more.

Like fate, my eyes scan my surroundings and immediately fall on him standing in front of the counter right beside Lea.

He's fidgety and I see Lea receiving a glass of alcohol before making eye contact with me as she nods in my direction.

I feel hands on my shoulders and jolt stepping aside to see who touched me. I see a man who stumbles back apologizing and realize he is trying to gather my coat to let me join the crowd and a cold sweat replaces the regular sweat.

As the fabric leaves my shoulder my voice stays stuck in my throat and instead, a small squeak manages to slither out.

Still looking for my voice, I turn to him walking away with my coat.

I'm left standing there helpless.

When I see the man disappear I turn back to my previous position to look back at Flash when I see him getting hit behind the head and scolded by Lea. I also notice the glass now empty on the counter as I hear his voice more distinctly dismissing Lea with a 'Whatever' as he rushes to my side.

"He took my jacket," I husher panicked but still trying to be subtle.

"I'm sorry," he says sincerely taking off his jacket.

"I feel naked," I whisper.

"I'm so sorry," he reiters putting his jacket on my shoulders before ushering me to walk ahead leading us towards Lea at the bar.

His hand is placed on my back flaring shiver with the new sensation of his hand on my back, or maybe it is just the fresh jacket on me?

My brain focuses back and sets on Lea greeting me.

With her asking how I've been I let my hand play with the jacket and nod along with the conversation. Flash himself messes with the blazer by first securing it over my shoulder and then playing with the sleeves that hang loosely.

When my mind stops fixating on him, I blink in surprise when my ears register an apology coming from Lea about the dress. I try to protest and instead thank her for the last-minute save when Flash's mother appears to join and inform us that we need to scatter around.

I stand clueless for a moment before I feel his hand on my back gently pushing me to walk alongside him.

Led around once more I decide to stop being dragged around like a clueless puppet and tug the hand placed on my back to entertwine our arms and walk together instead of letting him direct me around.

I don't talk much. I mostly nod and answer small questions here and there.

The evening runs along pretty smoothly as each interaction the two of us have only lasts few minutes before Flash skillfully finds a way to bid our goodbyes and walk us to yet another couple beckoning us over.

"Oh no."

"What is it?" I ask him trying to glance in the direction he was looking at to see an older lady standing there motioning us to join her.

"That's Garret's grandmother."

"And she's a mean old lady," I deduct.

"No worse, she's a passive-aggressive bitch."

I'm taken aback by his name-calling and look back at the woman waiting impatiently for us.

"I think she's waiting for us," I suggest.

"Okay, don't talk and stay close to me," he instructs.

"You mean like I've been doing for the past hour and a half?"

My teasing provokes a smile to appear on his face for a moment but it quickly disappears when his head turns back to the lady as he walks us toward her.

I hug his arm getting closer to him as he uses his opposite hand and brings it to our linked arms as a sort of comfort I'm guessing.

"Eugene," she beckons us over with a honeyed voice.

Her mask falls for a moment and I can see a glimpse of irritation before, like any other influential figure, she morphs her face into a more pleased expression.

"Madam Pennington," Flash says with an edge.

I first think that his tone might've been hesitation, but that changes when the woman gets that sour look back on her face and I realize his tone is subtly bitter.

Without trying, my brain does the math in a matter of seconds and I realize that if Flash refers to her with another last name than Garret's it must mean she is divorced.

She makes eye contact with me as my face must've shown that I figured Flash's comment out and her burning stare drives me to get closer to him for protection.

He clears his throat driving her murderous stare back to him as I abandon the idea of nodding along to their conversation and instead subtly look around the room.

The buffet, the people, anything other than the two of them.

"My grandson seems to be upset. When I tried talking to him about it he refused to speak but I did overhear that you two fought over a girl," she ends her sentence looking at me up and down.

"And by overhear you mean that you snooped around against your grandson's wish," his argument is aimed not only at defending himself but McCoy's privacy as well which surprises me.

"Excuse you?"

Her voice getting louder I notice McCoy himself standing just a few feet away from us looking at his grandmother about to blow a fuse and I decide to diffuse the tension.

"I believe your grandson is looking for you," I say nodding toward him standing there frozen, "And Flash your mother is looking for us over there."

Pushing him into motion I look back to see Garret approaching his grandmother but decide to not dwell on the talk they're about to have.

"Are you okay?" I ask as we hurry away from them.

He doesn't answer and just nods with a hum. He does however ask where his mother is and that's when I frown.

"You know I made it up so we could flee the conflict, right?"

He stops in his tracks before turning to me and I can see the gears turning in his head.

"Oh, yeah."

We keep eye contact and it must take a toll on him because he then avoids my stare and decides to look forward, all stiff.

I'm guessing the only reason he doesn't flee is the fact that our arms are still tangled together but I don't want to let go.

Maybe it's selfish but since the last time we talked, or more precisely the last we talked and I was not in gear, he ran away and ghosted me.

I want an explanation.

"This place is beautiful," I say looking around at the structure trying to pry a conversation out of him.

"I have something to tell you."

His tone is particular and I can't make out if he's hopeful or desperate.

My own tone embarrasses me as I egg him on full of anticipation.

"There's this type of dance and-" he cuts himself off and stares behind us.

Turning around, I spot McCoy staring right back at him.

"Not again," I hear him say under his breath.

I want to ask him if he's gonna be okay or if he'd like me to stay with him to talk to Garret but he shakes my hands off his arm and grabs it before taking off in the direction of the stairs.

"Come on follow me."

I can only let out a small squeal of surprise before catching up with his footing as the previous noisy venu dies down when we reach the second floor.

Once up there he doesn't stop and continues to sprint down the hall before taking a turn and tugging me to a corner away from McCoy.

My back is placed against the wall and I rearrange the jacket on my shoulders as I see Flash look around the corner to see if Garret is following us.

I suppose he gave up the idea as Flash visibly relaxes and turns back to me.

The proximity reminds me of that night at the laser game and the sudden look on his face tells me he must reminisce as well.

He knows that I know what we're both thinking about because we avoid eye contact and I let my eyes bounce between the multiple decors as a decoy.

"This place is beautiful. I wonder what it would feel to go to sleep in a place like that," I try to deflect from the tension.

"It's like any other place, you go to bed and you fall asleep," he brushes off trying to avoid the tension as well.

The simple statement makes me turn back to him and make eye contact as the realization slowly sets in.

"No."

"No, what?" he frowns.

"You slept here before?" my question sounds more like a statement.

"Yeah."

"But you live like 20 minutes away."

"Oh so now you know where I live Parker?"

My eyes widen at his insinuation.

I'm not a stalker!

"Well after you pointed out that I didn't know where you lived I was curious. If anything you're the one who told me I should know where you lived."

"Yeah and by that I meant coming over not googling my address."

"I did not Google your address!" I lie, "You're making me look bad!"

My restlessness makes him laugh.

Still chuckling he points ahead silently asking me to follow him.

"It's more of a tradition. My mom wants us to stay and sleep here every year," he says walking peacefully beside me.

It's a change compared to his erratic running just a few minutes ago.

"So you also slept at the fairytale mansion?"

"Fairytale mansion?"

"Yeah, the one where Lea got married."

Confused, it takes him a few seconds before his frown disappears and his mouth opens with an 'Oh'.

"Yeah," he simply says opening a door as I stand here frozen.

I know he probably wants me to enter but I'm confused and look at him waiting for an explanation.

He doesn't answer and instead walks inside reaching the other side of the bed to retrieve something.

With hesitation, I take a cautious step in looking around as if the room is full of boobie traps when I hear a dull thump and look back to see him throwing a gym bag on the queen-sized bed.

It must be the glamour of the night inhibiting my ability to be logical at times because it takes me a few seconds before my confusion turns into curiosity.

"Is that your bag?"

"No, I just love going through other people's stuff."

I don't answer or laugh and just raise my brows.

"Yes Parker, It's my bag."

I relax and close the door behind me before walking toward the bed warily and sitting down softly as the mattress sinks under me.

"I thought if I have to run away from Garret, why not pause before going back out there?" he explains throwing a book on the bed covers.

He dives back into his bag as I grab the book.

"Hey, I know that book!" I note joyfully.

I see him stop scrambling through his bag and look back up at me.

"Really?" he hesitates.

"Yeah I talked about it with Susan on your birthday. Usually, she's not into these kind of books but she's been watching a show similar to it so I mentioned it to her."

When he doesn't answer and doesn't make a move to dive back into his bag, another question comes troubling me.

"By the way, how did you hear about this book?"

"Oh um, someone told me about it," he says fumbling with the clothes inside the bag.

"Really? Who?" I ask knowing this isn't his type of book.

He doesn't answer and I assume it must be Garret who told him about the book and he simply doesn't wanna talk about him.

"You know as much as I don't like Garret, he's been your friend for years," I tip-toe around the issue and remember that he must not know about the video I saw where he's going off on McCoy and his clique.

"And?"

"And. With such a great taste in books, how could you not forgive him?" I try to turn the tension into something lighter with a chuckle gesturing to the book.

His frown turns into surprise, "Oh yeah, yeah! It's Garret who told me about it a few weeks ago."

"I never thought Garret would be the kind of guy who reads outside of school," I try to say without sounding mean.

A flash of red in my peripheral vision attracts my attention to turn away from the papercover and fills me with excitement when I recognize the sight.

"You brought him!" I say gripping the plushy and letting the book fall back on the covers.

He seems satisfied with my reaction and tugs his bag to fall back down before he too takes a seat beside me.

I lean down with my feet dangling as my back makes contact with the lavish bedding.

I take a look over at the Spiderman plushy wondering if in the small period of time any harm came his way. My detective work comes out dry as the plush doesn't seem to have been put under any distress when I hear him lay down as well.

I turn my gaze to him ready to make another joke and congratulate him on the plush's wellbeing when I see him already looking back at me and lose my smile as the memories flash back.

The muffled music, the way his curls were laying on his bed. He's been growing them out.

I like his hair long.

I like his lips too.

The calmness I feel is cut short when the bedroom door swings open and the sound of heels thud on the carpeted ground.

I raise up in my seat in a rush and grip the plushy hard against my chest in a panic as if I had just been caught having sex.

"Jee! Ever heard of knocking?!" he shouts sitting up after me.

"Coming from you?" Lea says looking up and down at him with an incredulous expression.

He sighs. I don't know if it comes from annoyance or relief from the previous scene.

"I've been looking for you two, your mother sent me to get you, come on now it's about to start," she says turning back on her heels and pulling the door behind her to leave it half closed waiting for us to join her.

"What's about to start?" I wonder looking at him after admiring her walk away.

The face I find makes mine fall. The paleness and distress plastered on his face makes me feel like I'm about to be the butt of the joke.

His blank stare angers me and figuring out I won't get any explanation from him I jump on my feet straightening the jacket on my shoulder to run after her.

Any other day it would've been to get an autograph but right now my only hope is to get reassured that all of it is just a huge misunderstanding.

Surely 'It's about to start' cannot be that bad? Maybe just a toast, or a speech?

"What's about to start?" I say trying to catch up to her but my question goes unanswered when we reach the top of the stairs and I see the Thompson matriarch taking the venue by storm as she speaks up in the middle of the stairs with her voice reasoning through the immense space.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

I hear her call out before my arm is engulfed and my gaze is redirected to him.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you really, but I kept being interrupted and then there was Garret and then we had a moment of calm and we started to talk and-"

"This evening has been fulfilling and I enjoy each and every one of your presence-"

My ears cannot keep up in between the two speeches. I'm even more overwhelmed when I realize that Lea has left us at the top of the split stairs, walked beside Aliyah, and joined her newlywed husband down the stairs.

"The time has come, and I know you enjoy it as much as I do," she says with a cheeky smile and a look of knowledge across the room sending the surroundings into a fit of chuckles.

"So now. I invite you to take your partner by the arm, and let's join each other in the other room so the waltz can take place."

The end of her speech sends a cold sweat down my back and I turn back to him unable to scream.

I'm speechless and incapable of voicing my anger and frustration.

The words want to come out but my brain is mushing together my two arguments, the one where I tear him a new one for not warning me or the one where I yell that I don't know how to dance.

Why didn't he think of inviting someone who knows how to dance?!

"A waltz?! I don't even know how to dance!" I say loudly enough to share my panic and frustration without attracting any looks.

His newest excuse gets cut off by his mother reaching us at the top of the stairs, " What are you two still doing here, come on chop chop," she finishes clapping her hands to drive us to hurry downstairs.

Another gasp fights its way into my lungs when I realize I'm about to disappoint her as well.

It's only logical for her son to dance in an event she organized.

I'm standing here looking like an idiot with my mouth wide open when my own voice surprises me, "I don't know how to dance!" I say point-blank.

"Of course you do! You went to the same elementary school and I distinctly remember your grade took ball lessons," she says proudly.

The new information confuses me and I doubt the woman's memory.

Maybe she's confusing me with another girl.

Not knowing how to question her or flatly deny her version of the event, I start to babble as I notice Lea walking back up the stairs with her arm under her husband's.

"No-I. I don't. I mean-I never," I ramble, any argument dying on my tongue leaving me a stuttering mess.

I don't know how to word my sentence when my eyes notice Flash's face getting sour the more his mother insists.

"Mom she said she doesn't want to," he says dryly.

I don't know if it's out of annoyance or out of shame but both possibilities are taking a toll on me and I feel the tears coming alongside the lack of oxygen.

"Well, what do you propose we do? Your father isn't here so I can't dance and one of us needs to!"

"We've been hosting this event every year for 5 years now I think we can sit this one out," he says somewhat confidently.

"I would've liked a bit of a heads up Eugene," Aliyah scolds him through her teeth.

Yeah, me too.

"They're waiting for us. Flash come on, come dance with me," Lea says extending her hand to him and taking a look at her proposal I see Mme.Thompson's bulb light up atop her head.

"You didn't even tell her there would be a dance?!" Her accusation seems rhetorical as the deep frown on her face doesn't seem ready to welcome any excuses.

He scrunches his eyes close and rubs them but doesn't answer and opens them back up to look at me.

I see regret and wonder if he regrets inviting me. A ball clogs my throat and I try to stay as stone-faced as possible instead of making a scene by dropping on the stairs and starting to ball like a baby.

He breathes in before following Lea's lead and I stop him. Placing my hand on his chest, I then shrug off the jacket he gave me and hand it back to him, my subconscious somehow realizing he would need it to look put together.

He walks down the stairs as his mother softly takes my arm under hers.

"I'm sorry, I would think my son would have the decency to tell you about this," she sighs as we walk down the stairs.

"But then again I should have known better with how different he's been acting lately."

I didn't intend to answer but that last bit of rant resonates with me and the wave of embarrassment and sadness I feel take a step back to leave place to my curiosity.

"Yeah I think Lea made a comment about it," I say looking at his back.

He suddenly turns his head around and looks at me following him before he turns back around and walks ahead taking his place with Lea in the middle of the room with the others.

Mme.Thompson stops us to stand around the crowd around the room and leave enough space for the others to dance in the middle of it.

Taking her attention away from me, she nods away seemingly to someone before music starts resounding in the area.

"I shouldn't burden you with that," she says with a warm smile while she rubs my arm in comfort.

"Oh no it doesn't burden me. I just hope he gets better."

My well wishes widen her smile.

"I'm glad he has you to hang out with," she says warmly.

"You're a good influence on him. and I can only hope you two stay close, it's not every day my son doesn't complain about this event."

"Yes, he told me about that. He was very thankful for saving him from those stares about him not having a date," I remember our conversation.

"Stares? Why would anyone stare at him fo not having a date?"

I frown, "You know. The rule about having a date for this charity in fear of being the talk of the night," I say trying to nudge her to remember.

"There was never such a rule. Who told you that? Eugene? Léa?"

I'm left speechless and with my mouth hanging open as the frown orning my face doesn't subside.

Her own frown is quickly replaced by a smile before she abruptly apologizes when a woman motions her over.

The loss of her arm is like a warm blanket has been ripped away making me notice the stares I was previously blind to.

A couple stares at me while another switches their stare back and forth between me and Flash, probably wondering why his date is not the one in his arms.

I look at him and see he's arguing with Léa while they waltz around and the sight would impress me if I wasn't confused as to why they look like they're ready to bite at each other's throat.

Another peep and I see that same man watching me with a nasty look before not-so-subtly whispering to his wife who makes eye contact with me before she answers him with a snarky smile.

I look around trying to convince myself I'm being tricked by my own paranoia when I start hearing my own intakes of breath and know it's a sign that it's all getting too much.

In my panic and without Ms.Thompson around to take my mind off things, I search for his face and find him already looking at me.

The panic sets in my chest and I know I need to step out for fresh air but I hesitate to do so in worry of the scene looking bad to the public.

Feeling the meltdown creeping up closer and closer, I look around and notice an arch under the stairs leading to a hallway and remember seeing multiple people passing through during the night and I conclude it must be the path towards a bathroom.

Sending a tense smile his way, I turn around to walk away.

Getting closer to my goal I step aside to let someone exit before walking in and locking the bathroom door behind me.

With the door shutting off most other noise from outside, I stand in front of the mirror and take a deep breath filling my lungs and trying to shake my head off those thoughts before hanging my head down and blowing out.

I raise my head and look at myself in the mirror to see the tears pricking my eyes and silently scold myself before reaching for a towel and trying my best to chase away the tears without messing up my mascara.

Another breath in and I take in my appearance one more time giving myself a pep talk before straightening my dress and deciding to go back out there before anyone starts to whisper about a possible date on the run.

I wouldn't want him to be surrounded.

Or maybe he'd like me to go.

I remember his face, the one he had on those damn stairs where I wondered why I accepted his invitation and why I let myself believe it could be that easy.

I violently shake my head off those thoughts and unlock the door ready to indulge the rest of this night before cutting all contact with Flash Thompson as I hear the distant music flooding back in my ears.

Lost in my thoughts I run straight into someone.

"I'm so sorry I-" My automatic response is cut short when I recognize him and the words get stuck in my throat.

"Hi," he blurs out.

I can only say hi back coldly as I believe any other response would send me back into the bathroom to place another tissue under my eyes.

"I swear I was gonna tell you."

His voice breaks the silence and when my ears register his words, I can't respond and instead walk around him to the other side of the hallway with my mind fixed on the idea that tonight was a mistake.

"No need to say sorry Flash-" I say nonchalantly, done with this poor decision of mine to accept his invitation.

"But I want to!"

I mess with a bust displayed on a table and let my finger slide on the statue trying to avoid his stare.

"Listen, it's completely my fault and I'm an idiot for not telling you. I was freaking out when I asked you to come here with me and I had my mind set so hard on you telling me you wouldn't come that when you said yes I was taken by surprise and the dance completely slipped off my mind."

I listen on with a frown. I stop messing with the bust and turn around leaning on the table as I look down avoiding his stare.

"My mom was the one who reminded me of it and then you called freaking out about the dress so I focused on that and I forgot again and then you walked in with your dress and then there was Garret's grandma and then Garrett and everything else followed so when there was just the two of us I just couldn't remember. And then Léa came in and you looked so sad and scared and angry I didn't know what to do."

I stand there listening to him spit out everything weighing on him before he suddenly breathes in for the first time and looks at me.

"I'm so sorry. I really am."

His gaze traps me and the remorse drowning his irises drains the anger out of me.

"You also lied about the date rule," I say, my voice barely able to convey any emotion.

I don't even find it in myself to yell at him, any scolding coming to mind being one he already gave himself.

"I'm an idiot and a coward and I completely get it if you never want to talk to me again."

At that I don't even know what to answer.

I did say I'd cut all contact with Flash Thompson after tonight but just a few weeks back I would've also said I'd never talk to him outside of schoolwork.

"Okay," I say after a while of silence trying to set us back in a way we can both be comfortable discussing with each other.

"If we're going on an apology spree I think I should be apologizing as well."

"What could you possibly have to apologize for? I'm the one who invited you last minute, so last minute that you didn't even have anything to wear."

I hear his step closing up on me before I put distance between us and walk back and forth down the hall.

"You invited me here to be your partner and I couldn't even participate in the important part of the night. Then there were the stairs and then people were talking and looking at you and Lea and then at me and it was all just so-"

My apology turns into a ramble and the simple retelling of the event produces that same panic inside of me.

Getting ready to excuse myself to go to the bathroom a second time, I turn around to see him standing right behind me. I can't look at him and instead focus my gaze on the floor trying to breathe properly when I feel his arms gently wrap around me and pull me in for a hug.

My finger messes with the fabric at the back of his jacket as my face is buried in the front of it trying to hide my face and not make eye contact.

I fool myself into thinking if I avoid eye contact with him we will stop talking in circles or better yet stop avoiding each other like the plague.

I also hope this way he won't see me on the verge of crying for the second time tonight.

"If anything," he says using my words as I feel his hand come up to stroke my hair, "I'm the one who should've thought better than to think you would still remember those dance classes," he says in a lighter tone.

I recognize his attempt to lighten up the situation and change the topic.

His comment makes me frown and against the warm feeling blossoming in my chest, I lift my face from the depth of his jacket to look at him.

"Yeah your mom talked about that but I don't think I ever took any dance classes, I think she mistook me for someone else."

His face, previously relaxed, falls and a sympathetic smile appears, "No you did," he says quietly, matching the hushed hallway.

My knitted brows are enough indication for him to continue his explanation.

He exhales through his nose and looks down messing with my hand to avoid making eye contact, "It was back when we were…around six? Seven?"

My confusion only deepens as I'm unable to rack my brain for a memory when I feel him tug on my hand gently drawing me closer to him and my frown turns into a muted gasp.

I don't have time to ask what he is doing when he laces our hands together and asks me in the quietest voice if he can.

It is then I realize he's asking to put his hand on my bare back to, I assume, teach me how to waltz.

I can't find my voice, the situation taking me aback so much so that instead of voicing my consent I decide to instead nod and place his hand myself to reassure him of my agreement.

I did not realize that my back was cold, most likely due to getting used to the lack of coverage but I feel it now as his hand feels hot against it.

My full attention is on him before my eyes are drawn down as I see him taking a step forward driving me to respond and step backward.

The motion has me uncontrollably giggling as my left foot follows his right to step to the side.

"Why exactly are we doing this right now?" I ask with another titter.

"Doing what?"

"Dancing Flash," I laugh, "Waltzing in the hallway."

"Dusting up memories. Proving to you that you do know how to dance or if you're right, to teach you how to waltz to apologize for not telling you there would be a dance."

My previous smile falls and I tilt my head back with a loud sigh.

"I apologized again," he awkwardly notices.

"Yes Flash, stop apologizing," I say looking at him straight in the eyes and raising my brows to emphasize my demand.

"I can't, I feel bad."

I reposition my hand on his shoulder with a light stroke as I squeeze our hands letting us continue swaying gently.

I find myself frustrated at his confession when my brain clears up and suddenly remember our last time together.

He feels bad about not telling me about the dance but he doesn't feel bad about running off the last time we saw each other?!

I remember waiting an entire week for a call or even a text. Jumping to my phone at every notification hoping it was him giving me an explanation for running off on me.

I force myself to brush it off when the feeling of his thumb stroking my back envelops me in a daze I want to hold onto until the night inevitably ends.

"Let's call it even then. You didn't tell me about the dance and I couldn't fulfill my side of the bargain."

"It wasn't a bargain, you just did me a favor."

I can't argue back and decide to look away.

"See, you're doing it."

I look back at him with panic thinking he's going to call me out on my avoidant stare and start a new argument when I see him smile before I notice that he's talking about us dancing and it is then that I look down and realize I'm naturally mirroring his movements.

I laugh impressed at myself before looking back at him as we acknowledge my accomplishment.

Our shared smile diminishes as he stops our dance.

"I didn't invite you because I was desperate," he confesses, "I just really wanted to hang out with you."

I stand there frozen before he gently nudges me sending us back into a soft waltz.

His honesty stuns me and I follow his lead again.

"I think it might be the first time you've been honest with me," It's my turn to confess.

"I don't always lie," he defends himself.

"No, but you never opened up like that before."

I see him trying to avoid eye contact and I silently scold myself as my words seem to drive him away once again.

"I like that," I quickly follow up.

That does it. his eyes raise back to meet mine.

"Why don't you do it more often?"

At that, he seems to hesitate as we gently sway side to side.

"You know friends share their feelings," I remind him of our conversation yesterday where he invited me to come here as a friend.

I can see that the memory rings a bell as he stops our movement once more.

I see his eyes desperate to say something but he's struggling with himself to find the right words as I witness his mouth open and close over and over again.

"See, like riding a bike. It comes back naturally," he manages to say stepping back trying to avoid the subject.

"You're doing it again," I say trying my best to not sound frustrated.

He huffs and slides his hand down his face.

He huff?!

How is he the one pissed off right now?!

I cross my hands taking a harsher stance.

"Okay, you said open so I'm gonna be open," he says fidgeting around.

"If you want us to be friends, you can't expect me to just tell you everything that goes through my head at every moment."

I sigh, "I guess it's fair."

My response appears to relax him.

"But," he interjects, "I guess I could make an effort."

I smile despite myself and look away to try and hide the fact that he turned the situation around once again.

My attempt fails when he looks for my face to catch me smile.

I turn away but he walks around me trying to catch me.

In a last attempt, I hid my face on the verge of laughter.

"Hey wait, you're cheating!" he protests with a chuckle.

I feel his hand on my wrists and yet he doesn't use force to uncover my face.

We stay like this for a moment before I muster the courage to slide my hands away from my eyes and meet his.

He smiles back and that feeling comes again, the one where I feel electricity run through my body.

Like the night he kissed me.

I feel frozen in space like I'm only able to breathe and blink.

He gets closer, so close that our forehead touches and I instinctively close my eyes waiting to feel his lips on mine like that night.

He's so close and yet doesn't make a move to close the distance between us. It makes me groan internally when I remember he's probably waiting for me to make a move.

He's literally two inches away from me and I'm still here what more does he need? for me to swing a flare in the air? Scream at him at the top of my lungs to kiss me?

The tension is suffocating and it's cut short when I feel a breeze of air where I should feel him.

"Thank you, I really wanted to dance with Lea. And don't be mad, I promise, you'll get a dance too," he says cheekily as I stand there completely confused.

He's quick to hold my shoulders and push us to the side. It's when I get my senses back and see a man walk past us to access the bathroom.

I get the answer I'm looking for when I look back at him and see him smile at me.

That's when I have to hold back my laugh with him as the bathroom door closes.

Placing my hand on my mouth, I snort before I see an arm presented to me and look up to see Flash waiting for me.

With the tension now gone I happily hold his arm as he directs us away from the lonely hallway to the booming evening when we cross paths with Mme.Thompson.

"There you are!" she says joyfully.

"I was talking to a few colleagues and they were adamant that I at least ask you to join us."

I open my mouth trying to find the words to politely decline when her son beats me to it.

"No Mom I think it's time for her to go home. Her aunt will kill me if I don't drive her back before 1."

Sharing her chagrin, Mme.Thompson bids me her goodbyes before she shares a look with Flash and tells him to come back as soon as possible telling him he'll be spending time with Garret.

The end of her sentence isn't met with agreement or joy but silence as I'm ushered outside with the cold temperature that doesn't get to reach me before I feel his jacket engulf my shoulders once again.

Another gesture he makes is to offer his hand to help me walk down the stairs of the building. I pause and look down at my heels and conclude like him that it's going to be harder to step down the stairs than it was to climb them.

The thought makes me laugh to myself before I accept his hand and carefully make my way down with another set of giggles.

"I'm never borrowing heels from May ever again," I manage to let out in between giggles.

"Miss Parker forgot to calculate the probability that those heels were gonna be a problem?"

The remark takes me by surprise and makes me stumble.

I crouch to make sure I don't end up face-first on the concrete and my position makes me snort as I hide my face behind my hands and kneel in the middle of the stairs to ground myself.

From any other perspective, I look drunk and I'm being chaperoned by Harrison Thompson's son.

My laugh turns into a fit and I'm left laughing out loud, gripping my aching stomach and praying the feeling doesn't kill me.

"Okay I think I got it, sit down," he says laughing about my situation.

Lost in my euphoria I barely manage to sit up on one of the stairs waiting to see his plan to help me down.

I try to calm myself down when he stands in front of the stairs and places my hands on his shoulders. I finally understand his idea when I'm lifted in the air by my hips and grip his shoulder in a reflex as I'm left gasping when I land on the ground.

I gaze at him and his previous smile falls a bit as he stands there with a blank expression.

I'm almost sure I see his eyes switch to my lips.

"Sorry," he apologizes for his sudden plan to get me down those stairs with a small smile trying his luck at diffusing the tension.

I reassure him before he gently directs me to his car.

The silence is calming and comfortable and I notice I had never been in his car before.

I bask in the comfort, all giddy as I look outside the window admiring the city I love to swing in so much.

He chimes in with small talks here and there and in my new feeling of serenity, I mindlessly make one-word answers.

After a while of admiring the scenery, I look back inside the car when I notice him fidgeting around looking tense.

"Is everything okay?"

"Are you mad?" he asks as his hand tightens up on the steering wheel.

"No, why do you ask?" I return the question fidgeting in my seat to get more comfortable.

"I don't know, you don't talk much. Usually I can't get you to stop talking," he says scratching his face before returning his focus to the road, his side eye gauging my reaction.

I guess the comfortable silence wasn't shared and so I rattle my brain to find a topic we could discuss to fill the apparent discomfort he feels.

Trying to take the attention away from the topic of 'us', I remember the look he and McCoy shared and decide to ask hastily.

"Are you gonna reconcile with Garret?"

"Is that what you're mad about?"

"No Flash, I'm not mad. I'm just trying to make conversation since you seem to think my silence means that I'm angry."

"So you're not mad," he affirms one more time.

"No, I'm not mad."

"Cool," he finishes before he falls himself into silence.

"So? Garret?" I ask after a few beats of silence.

"Let's not talk about Garret."

"Too late, now I'm curious," I say turning on my side to give him my full attention.

"I reminded you how to dance cut me some slack," he whines.

"No," I laugh, "You taught me how to dance. I told you I didn't take dance courses."

His own laugh is short-lived, "Yes, you did."

"When?" I challenge him.

He pauses and takes a deep breath as we reach a red light, "It was during that time you moved to your Aunt May's."

The confession throws a cold in the vehicle.

"Oh," is all that manages to come out of my mouth.

"I remember," he says messing with his steering wheel waiting for the light to turn green, "You looked out of it during that time. It was what? 1st grade? 2nd grade?"

I wish he wouldn't pause in between bombs because the multiple aspects of the current situation make everything point to us being forced to look at each other.

I audibly exhale and wait for anything to come and fill the heavy silence of the car.

I even think about reaching over and turning on the radio.

"Why would we talk about my friendship with Garret?" he tries to distract from the conversation with a new topic.

"Oh, so there IS a friendship," I point out jumping on the occasion to step away from the previous topic, proud we have succeeded in shifting the subject.

In a streak of luck, the light turns green, and new chatter fills the car with a newfound lightness.

He sighs, "I don't know. Would that be a problem?"

"Why do you ask me? I don't manage your friendships."

"I don't know. I thought about just leaving that friendship behind but who knows," he says glancing at me with a teasing glint in his eyes, "If you root for him I could find it in myself to grace McCoy."

I chuckle as I change my position deciding to hug the headrest with my arm to rest my head on it.

"Sounds to me like you're afraid to choose for yourself."

He scoffs and laughs it off, "No, I'm just asking for someone else's opinion. Second opinions are important too."

It's silent as he shifts gears and I realize we're getting closer to my neighborhood.

"I thought about just ghosting him for a while. And with what happened last time, it feels like he's never gonna change," he confesses, "And maybe that's how it's supposed to end between us two."

"Ghosting?"

"Yeah, I don't think a discussion could get us anywhere useful. Garret is not the type of person to apologize anyways."

His demeanor is nonchalant but his expression shows a rare vulnerability.

"Some people just don't grow up," I barely manage to hear him mutter.

I hesitate but the observation kills me.

"That's very wise of you," I notice out loud.

He realizes I must've heard him and chuckles mostly at himself.

"I am wise," he proudly states as he turns the car again.

"That's just something Léa said," he adds.

He notices when I frown, "Believe it or not but my problems with Garret started before his attempt on your life," he jokes as he parks.

With the car now off I place my hand on his shoulder as a silent encouragement, squeezing and smiling at him before letting go of the headrest and looking out the window to see my apartment building.

I don't think much of it and open the car door to slip out of the vehicle.

"You know I'm supposed to be the one that opens the door for you, right?"

I turn my focus away from the building to see him getting out of his car, his head poking up from his car's roof.

He gets closer and stands right beside me at the bottom of the paved stairs.

He faces me and with newfound courage, I try my luck.

"Didn't you say we were going to this event as friends?"

"Opening a car door doesn't mean anything. It just says I have manners."

I hum impressed by his quick answer and see his hand already out for me to take.

Frowning, his smile turns my grimace into a bright smile when I recall the stairs incident.

I chuckle and grip his hand as he leads me up the stairs.

"See," he says as we reach the top of the stairs, "Just a gentleman."

My laugh dies down as we face each other with an awkward silence that I break when I slip his jacket off of my shoulder and hand it back to him.

He grasps it and looks down at it. He seems to hesitate before he looks back up at me clutching the fabric in his hands.

"School starts back tomorrow. See you there?" he asks.

"Yeah," I let out, my voice softer than it should be, "See you there."

I end the night with a kiss on his cheek, taking the risk of letting it last longer than it should.

The silence isn't tense or awkward and I know this time it goes for the both of us as we share a smile and I grip his shoulder squeezing it one last time.

"Good luck with McCoy."

His serene expression turns sour as he scrunchs his eyes shut and rolls his head back.

"You didn't have to bring up McCoy," he whines as I let a quick laugh escape me one last time tonight.

"Good night," I say with a smile, satisfied with how fulfilling this evening has been.

"Good night."

I let go of him and step back towards the door before I have to inevitably turn around and leave him there.

My last view of him is his figure standing right there looking back at me with a charming smile.

I'm not sure but I could swear he grazes his cheek where I kissed him goodbye in-between the smallest gap of the building's door as it shuts close.

[ladythornofrivia]

Endless Reds and Blues

Pair: Kakucho x Reader (Ran x Reader)

Warning: Slight toxic dialogue.

A/N: I apologize for the lack of posting stuff here on the site. I'm having a hard time lately. I just want to give up. For the people who support me when no one could, thank you so much. It means the world to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter--I haven't written this series forever! Sorry I took so long to post a fanfic. I wish I could’ve done better and faster when it comes to writing—like I got everything down from start to finish with the plot, but, trying to overcome my problems in life. Thank you for your patience. ❤️

(Please report if someone decides to steal/plagiarize my story. And notify me. Thank you.)

Chapter 6: So Heartfelt and Vulnerable

As you we're having a deep talk with your friend, the part of the sandwich fell off on your lap, dripping the sauce.

Himiko placed the napkin. You thanked her and wiped the substance.

"This is pretty good, considering how the sandwich fell off. The should be careful on what they put here. Dry food can be wet real quick."

"Or how they carelessly stuff it down without thinking about consequences on carrying it. So what are you doing after school? I was thinking we should go to the karaoke."

Yow swallowed in fear. "I'm not sure...I have other plans. I'll let you know when I'm available."

"This new place by Shibuya is crazy good. The service and the food and drinks are great," Himiko insisted. "And so many cute guys passing by."

"I can't."

"What if there's a guy that looks like Leonardo DiCaprio? I've seen tourists going here. Maybe I'll find him."

You shook your head. "Thanks. But if the actual Leonardo DiCaprio is there, let me know."

"I'll even try to ask him if I have to."

Shaking your head, you said, "Become a Hollywood actress, then tell Leonardo that I requested him to date me. Maybe I want to be in a Titanic movie, starring me and him. Although Kate Winslet is better for him than me, actually."

Himiko slapped your shoulder lightly. "Let me know, then. Because I can't stand being around my relatives."

"Like a home away from home."

"Exactly." Himiko's eyes twinkled.

Then the classroom doors opened.

Oh, no.

You scoot your chair back on the wall as the Tenjiku members entered. Surprisingly, the admirers weren't following them. Probably the law they gave sufficed.

"Ah," Ran's eyes twinkled. "Here's our little mermaid." Then he rushed over to your side and had his hand on your waist, hoisting you up and drag you out from the classroom. "We've been looking for you everywhere."

"In case you didn't know, I'm trying to have a peaceful lunch," you said, munching.

His face leaned in almost close towards yours, his breath tickled your skin and his eyes gazing longer than it should've. "You forgot our deal, little darling." Then gazes to your lips, then back to your bewildered eyes.

"First of all, I'm not a darling," you said, removing yourself from his arm. "And second, the deal is supposed to a meeting between me and you guys after school."

Ran smirked. "Perhaps I should phrase it, little darling. You have to sit with us during lunch."

"What is this? Mean Girls? Who's the Regina George?"

"There's no Regina George," he said, baffled. "But you do have to sit with us."

"Out in public?" you asked, blushed.

Ran smirked again. "No, we have our own private area for lunch break to get away from prying eyes and ears and mouth. Come with me, my little mermaid."

You rolled your eyes. "In case you forgot, my name is (y/n), not Ariel. Unless you wanted me to sing and get my voice."

He chuckled. "We'll see, (y/n). We'll see." Then he snapped his fingers, saying, "Oh, I forgot." His thumb caressed your lips, and his satisfaction grew wider. "You have slight dirt on your face. You should thank me." Then licked the portion on his lips, tasting it.

*~~*~~*

Then you and Ran met up with the rest of the members, who are watching Ran clinging to you beside him.

"Why am I not surprised?" Kokonoi said, sighing.

Rindou and Sanzu followed. Then Takeomi and Mochi stood still watching you. As for Kakucho, he watched you also, but with a slight sheepish gaze, still wearing his stoic expression.

"Here she is!" Ran announced, smiling widely.

"Um, Ran, why are you still clinging onto her?" Rindou asked.

"She's tiny, and needs to be protected," Ran answered.

"I don't think she needs protection, she can smack me with a heavy book," Sanzu reminded.

"Don't be like that, Sanzu," Ran said, poking Sanzu's cheeks, to which Sanzu smacked Ran's hands away.

"Keep her away from me," Sanzu said.

"Don't worry, I will," you said, approaching.

Kokonoi frowned. "Don't try to forget our deal. Even if you pretend to do so, we'll remind you again."

"Fine," you said, looking at the school window.

"This way," Kokonoi said, beckoning you to enter the private area.

Once everyone entered, Kokonoi said, "Have a seat."

You took a seat beside Kakucho. "Are they always this way?" you whispered to yourself.

"Yes, they're always this way," Kakucho said with a flicked brow.

You looked at him directly. "Sorry, I was talking to myself."

Kakucho's eyes closed as he softly smiled. "It's fine."

The rest of the time during lunch, it was wilder, wilder than you expected--or maybe it surpassed your expectations in a most frightening and baffling way.

*~~*~~*

You packed your stuff for tonight, and lying to your mother is the worst thing. You didn't want her to find out the deal between you and the boys while your mother is trying to reach the lawyer to investigate regarding the bullying incident you have before.

Tonight, you're bracing yourself for the worst.

Entering the Tenjiku's lair--private home--one where you made a deal with them.

You weren't sure what you're going to do with the boys. Probably studying and tutoring in full hours. Partying. Or possibly surprising you with a twist.

Whatever it is, you prayed hard for a good and smooth-sailing result despite of bracing oneself.

In the lavish building, you were thinking and imaging you’re going to be tutoring then for the whole time until exhausted.

As you enter their room, the foyer, then the living room, it was set all cozy with large and cushiony pillow and blankets with a large screen tv turned on. Buttery popcorn and sweet-filling ice shaving drinks are on the go.

“What the hell?” you uttered.

“(Y/n), nice of you to join us,” Ran greeted before giving you a hug. And you returned the gesture rather awkwardly and suspiciously.

“Yes, because I made a deal with Kokonoi,” you said with a stiffened smile.

Ran then dragged you on the couch with all the members watching you. Again.

They could’ve just ignore me and do their own thing. Luckily, Kokonoi and Sanzu weren’t paying attention to you because they’re trying to select a movie they watch.

"No, I'd say we watch Godfather," Sanzu suggested.

"No," Kokonoi said, typing the movie title on the laptop that was already connected to the movie projector. "I want to watch Dark Knight."

"Forget it! I'd rather watch Iron Man!"

"No!"

"You're difficult."

"Same goes to you. If you want to watch Godfather, go to this movie theater where they replay the old movies."

"Dark Knight isn't new, either. It's been years since Dark Knight is out since 2008."

Kokonoi had his hand up. "Shoo!"

"Both Iron Man and Batman are rich playboys," you told them.

Kokonoi and Sanzu both looked at you. "What?" Sanzu said.

"Both guys--rich and playboys, like you guys," you said with a sincere smile.

Kokonoi looked back to his laptop. "I don't remember in the contract that you're going to be mean."

"How can it be mean when it's true?" Kakucho said.

All members flabberghasted at Kakucho.

"Thank you," you said, sitting down at the farther corner of the lavish couch.

"Which one?" Kokonoi asked.

"Which one, what?" you said, lifting your feet up on the couch.

"What movie do you want to watch?"

"Whatever."

"There's no movie called "Whatever"," Sanzu butted in.

Your sharp glare darted at Sanzu. "Fine," then you stood up and went over to Kokonoi with a hand outstretched. "Give me your laptop."

"No," Kokonoi said, pulling it back.

"Just give it to her," Ran advised with a swished hand.

As Kokonoi begrudgingly handed you his laptop, you searched the movie title, and Ran's voice boomed. "Did I ever tell you that your pajamas are cute?"

You snorted. "Save the flirting for later, Haitani."

Ran drew a dramatic gasp with a hand on his chest. "How hurtful! Did you not want to call me by my first name?"

Then goo-goo eyes shown, as you're stifling your giggle.

"You're not drinking alcohol again, are you?" Rindou asked.

"Hell no!" Ran said, with a fake, dramatic cry.

"I can't choose..." you whispered to yourself. Then a minute later, you said, "Alright, I have a question for everyone. Do you guys want sub or dub?"

Everyone's glances are exchanged with each other.

"Um...dub--wait--why?" Kokonoi asked.

Then you installed the movie, gave back the laptop to him. As the lights dimmed, you bounced back on the couch with a little squeal and little kicks on your feet, stuffing higher squeals in the pillow.

All the members looked at you as if you've gone mad.

"What movie did you install?" Sanzu asked, horrified.

With a little snickering, you said, "You'll see..."

Couple of minutes later, everyone's invested into the movie screen until it showed the face Leonardo DiCaprio.

Then you squealed it occupied the quiet walls. Some members jumped and looked at you again.

"Oh my god," Rindou said, planting his face against his hands. "No!"

"Every time! What does he got that we don't!?" Ran said.

"He's Leonardo DiCaprio...?" you stated.

"That's not a real solid explanation, (y/n)," Takeomi said, lighting another cigarette.

"Okay, his hairstyle," you said with confidence.

"Again, not the reason."

"Is there anyone else you like? Someone who's not a celebrity?"

"Umm....Johnny Depp? Keanu Reeves? Brad Pitt? Matt Damon? But if you’re talking about MCU, it’s either Tom Hiddleston or Robert Downey Jr. or Benedict Cumberbatch or Tom Holland.”

"Not a celebrity!"

Then before you reached another set of popcorn, you took a glimpse at Kakucho with a stilled expression. Dismissing, you look back at Leonardo DiCaprio. Each time he shows up, you kept sighing and squealing, though it's toned down.

As soon as Leonardo DiCaprio's character reached his hand towards Kate Winslet's character, your hand automatically reached out towards his in a dramatic fashion, and it got some men snorting at your profound acting and reciting line by line.

"How many times did you watch Titanic?" Sanzu asked.

"This is my thirteen or fourteenth time...I'm not sure--I lost count!"

Then you get lost into the movie again. Until you started crying on some death scenes--mainly Leonardo DiCaprio's character--Jack Dawson.

"Even when he close his eyes and covered in blizzard, he still looks handsome. I want to marry him so bad," you whispered. "Leonardo I love you then, and I love you now! I loved you ever since it came out--I'll never let go!"

But all the members shot their shocking gaze at you.

"This girl...she never stopped..." Sanzu said, rolling his eyes.

"Tell me about it..." Ran said, saddened. Then he looked at Kakucho, who was also looking at you.

As soon as the movie is finished, you hummed along Celine Dion's song. But Kokonoi halted it. The lights switched back on.

"Hey!" you said with a pout.

"No more," Kokonoi with a cat-like smile, poking his tongue out.

"So what do you guys think?"

"I think it's...great!" Ran gave a polite smile.

"I somewhat fell asleep," Takeomi said.

"But...we could watch any movie, and you chose the one where you squeal for 5 seconds each," Rindou stated.

"You're the reason why we kept ourselves awake from your admiration towards Leonardo--Takeomi sleeping aside."

"How old was he when he's in Titanic?"

"22 years old," you said. "I know he's so gorgeous. His face, his eyes, his majestic hair and his voice. I want to swim on that forever. We should watch Romeo and Juliet next. The way he smokes his cigarette and the way he cries on that movie is too sexy. If you chose the sub version, Leonardo's voice is beautiful."

"Okay, that's enough fawning." Sanzu said, refilling the popcorn.

"Hey, I could say the same thing to girls towards you guys at the school. How is this any different?"

"She's got a point," Mochi said.

"Mochi!" Rindou said.

Shrugging, Mochi said, "I mean where's the lie."

"Anyway, are you guys ready?" you chimed in.

"For another Leonardo movie?"

"No, I'm testing you guys in English," you said, indicating for Kokonoi to give you his laptop for install another movie, this time it's Disney's The Little Mermaid. "First we have to watch this."

"I don't watch cartoons," Rindou objected.

"Then go somewhere else, or try to talk to one of the girls," you said without looking at their direction, you put the sub version of the cartoon movie.

"Do you think so low of us, (y/n)," Rindou dared.

"Rindou, with all due the respect, I meant to say that everyone is handsome and like most handsome men, they're occupied by girls. See, if I say you're ugly, what would you gain from it?"

Minutes in, and the song began to play, you hummed along the tune quietly. Kakucho, on the other hand, could hear you. There's something so pleasant about you, self-assured of yourself and unafraid to speak your mind--no matter how harsh it was.

Few scenes in, and Prince Eric shows up.

You sighed.

"Oh, now what!?" Rindou said.

"He's cute!" you raised your voice slightly.

"But he looks like the type who does stupid things," Sanzu said.

"Like you?"

Then it was silent again, minus Sanzu's huff.

"You're the real life Ariel," Ran commented with a smug.

Though you didn't hear it. Kakucho, on the other hand, heard it.

A heart stirred.

Did Ran have feelings for you? Surely he isn't. He's a playboy who knows how to make someone feel good through affirmation. Another reason why he's the most popular member.

*~~*~~*

Then you and everyone talked, due to English assignments. And by the time there's a pop quiz, Ran stopped and said, "I keep hearing you humming during the Disney cartoon. Is that your favorite movie?"

"I like Beauty and the Beast, and Mulan and Aladdin, and Tarzan--The Little Mermaid is one of the top five favorite Disney movies."

"I want to go to sleep," Sanzu said.

"Do you want to fail?" you said.

"I can copy off from someone else. I mean what's the point of learning when I can just use translation. We have technology."

"Sometimes translations are unreliable. They can give off the wrong impression on someone--some people out there, they get offended so easily. One time I tried to practice Japanese to someone, and he got pissed--doesn't want to talk to me and left. I kept saying and pronounced the wrong thing, and it ended up being so inappropriate. So I ended up going to Japanese classes--ones that doesn't feel basic. I just wanted a good challenge, so that it'd be worth it in the end."

"You did good," Ran said.

You smiled at him. "Thank you. Alright, we should take a break. Do you know where the restroom is?"

"Pass down from the living room on your right--first door," Kakucho said.

"Thank you." And with that, you left, shutting the door.

Kakucho watched you, and until you come back, he still watches the door.

With a shadow hovering over Kakucho, he glanced over to see smiling Ran. He's already creeping Kakucho out.

*~~*~~*

Ran and Kakucho spoke alone, making an excuse of bringing more snacks and proper meal in. As Kakucho entered the kitchen, Ran followed, and said, "She's cute, isn't she?"

"Yeah...she is," Kakucho said.

"Feisty, too."

"I guess so."

Then Kakucho is backed to the wall. This time, Ran's smile turned into grim. "I saw the way you look at (y/n), but your love for Mariko runs deep. Let me give you a warning. She's not someone to be trifled with."

"You only know (y/n) for a few days, she hasn't said much to you. Besides, since when do you care about (y/n)?"

"But her character does. I'm not stupid. Whatever you're thinking right now, you're thinking of Mariko, instead. I have my eyes set on her. If you dare to hurt her by mixing with your feelings with Mariko towards (y/n), you're going to regret this for life."

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