#I’m about to crash so hopefully everything is in order here

[about-faces]

Her world is ending, the entire universe being wiped out by cosmic forces beyond her understanding. But Gilda Kent of Earth-Two isn’t going down without a fight, not after all she’s seen. After all, she saved both Bruce and Harvey’s lives once before, decades ago. She still has the bullet scar to prove it.

Now she’s going to make a last, desperate play that will either save herself and her dying husband–Harvey Kent, once known as Two-Face–or damn them forever.

[ladykailitha]

A Love Connection Part 1

In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!

If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.

This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.

Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?

~

Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.

And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.

“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.

“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”

Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.

“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”

Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”

“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”

“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”

Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”

Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.

~

Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.

“Love Connection”

“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”

“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”

Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.

Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.

Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.

To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.

It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.

“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”

“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”

Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”

Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”

Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.

“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”

Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”

“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”

So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.

When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”

Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.

“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”

Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”

“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”

Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”

“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”

“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.

They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”

“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”

Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”

It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.

~

There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.

He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.

“Hey!” she yelped.

Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.

“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.

“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”

Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”

Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.

“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.

He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.

While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.

Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.

Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.

They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.

Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...

Have fun!

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[plants-are-fun]

”it’s ok, just eat”

TW: ED!!!! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS!!

I have struggled with this in the past and it comforted me so hopefully it can do the same for others

toxic mom(same), toxic personal trainer

shitty writing

heavy angst, fluff, semi happy ending

Bf!chrisxEDgf

small use of y/n

Chris’s pov

—————————

i don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Every single time we went out to eat, y/n would pretend to eat. She would slide her food around, cut it, even offer me some, but she would never actually take a bite.

throughout our whole relationship she would be constantly tired and cold, but to be honest I thought that was just a woman thing. I wanted to have her in a car video, but she would refuse and her only reason was “i don’t want them to see me”. I didn’t push it, but that explanation never sat right.

as she started showing the desire to be in our videos, she started rapidly losing weight, but when I asked her about it she would just say it’s what her personal trainer had been working on. I should have pushed it.

so now, here we are in our minivan prepping to film.

“hey mama what do you want to eat?” I say going as matt pulls into McDonald’s. I look back and all she does is get red and start to fidget.

“it’s ok Chris I don’t need anything” She stutters. “Besides, if I were to eat I think that I would throw up. I’m so nervous”

“you need to have something to eat. These videos can get kind of long.” Nick says as he glances over at me looking worried. Matt nods.

“okay Nick just order her a dr pepper to make sure her blood sugar doesn’t crash” I look over to make sure that’s good, but all of the color previously is not drained from her face.

“U-um can you make it a diet?” She whispers.

I honestly just passed that as nerves.

After we got our food and we made it to a random parking lot, Nick passed out the food and may set up the camera.

“shit” she says

“what’s wrong ma?” At this point I am starting to get very worried.

“it isn’t diet.” She says. I look up at her and she looks like she could cry.

“it’s ok, I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal” I say obliviously. “Do you want a fry?”

she starts to stutter some excuse when Matt comes back in and Nick introduces the video.

After Nick starts some random argument with Matt I realize that something is seriously wrong. I can hear my girlfriends breathing start to get heavier and even her stomach growl.

“hey kid I can hear your stomach from here” I say handing her a couple of fries.

“I don’t want to take your food” she says

“it’s ok, just eat.” She takes a fry and starts to nibble on it. As Nick starts up on some dumb rant about his newest fear, I hear the car door slide open and running. Nick just stares at her in aw and starts laughing, but I’m already on my feet.

I run over to her as I hear gagging and heaving. I pull her hair back and rub my hand against her back.

as she comes back up all she is doing is sobbing and rambling apologies

“I’m s-so sorry I r-ruined your video I didn’t mean to I didn’t want to eat but I-i didn’t want you to ask questions! I’m sorry Chris please forgive me-“ I cut her off with a hug.

“baby what happened? Are you ok? What do you mean you didn’t want to eat? Do you feel sick”

I lead her to a sidewalk curb as she slumps over in exhaustion. She spills everything.

“my whole life my mom has always made me watch what I eat. She used to tell me to suck in my gut and all of that overbearing mother stuff. Then when I started dating you I had already not been eating much, but I really really wanted you to like me and I thought I was too big for that. So I cut back on my calories and went to the gym more. My personal trainer has been calling me fat. He says it’s for motivation but it’s just making it worse! Then when you said you wanted to introduce me to your fans, I just got so scared because I know how intense they are, so I stopped eating all together. But I didn’t think that it would backfire so much that I would ruin the video. I’m sorry Chris, I really am.”

she just leans her head against my shoulder and hiccups lightly.

I feel like the worst boyfriend ever for not seeing the signs. Sure, I’ve been busy, but only an oblivious asshole wouldn’t see the love of his life struggling so much.

“first things first, you didn’t ruin the video. Your safety is far more important. We also are going to FIRE that personal trainer. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were hurting until now. When was the last time you ate?”

“when we went out and I got that salad” my heart drops. “baby, that was 3 days ago…” she just starts crying again.

“it’s ok, let’s go get something light to eat. Maybe water based? Then we can go to the doctor, or get you a therapist.”

“ok” she whispers

“I love you so much baby” I say kissing the top of her head.

“we’ll get through this together.”

————————-

eek I can’t tell if that was good or not but I’m too tired for anything else 😥

[enriquemzn262]

It’s turboweeb shit time, so be advised.

Anyway, with the new anime season finally settled, let me share with you what I’m watching, or what I at least tried, so in case any of this is of your interest, you may check out:

Mayonaka Punch

A v-blogger has a falling out with her old friends, leaves her channel and accidentally gets involved with lesbian vampires, who now join her in her quest to reach one million subscribers in order to take revenge on her former partners, with the promise that once she does, she will let the main horny lesbian vampire suck her dry (of blood).

Great animation, weirdly deep character developments, an underlying plot of anxiety and denial, and even an exploration of what happens when an immortal vampire gets too close to the spotlight, all the while keeping an overall comedic energy.

8/10, its an original anime so the story will probably warp up by the time the season ends, hopefully they don’t fuck up the landing.

Dead Dead Demon's Dededede Destruction

Aka DDDD

What I originally wrote off because I’m sick and tired of high school anime, it turned out to be quite the fascinating show about life after an alien invasion, with tons of Roadside Picnic vibes, a great cast of screwball characters who are actually as relatable as they are realistic, and for once its a show set in high school that doesn’t give a single shit about glorifying that era of education, you will not see any mention of any school council, festival or any of that tired nonsense.

Plus, there’s always an inherent darkness brewing around the story, with episodes 0 basically setting up how everything will go to shit at some point, and the story slowly moving towards that endgame, it’s great!

Oh, and if you’re a fan of Doraemon, you’ll be pleasantly surprised too.

10/10, I’m absolutely glued!

No Longer Allowed in Another World

In an era where there’s 10 million isekais about the most boring male main characters who go into your standard fantasy world to get harems and be overpowered, here we have a story in which the MC actually wanted to die (by double suicide with his lover), and accidentally got summoned into said standard world, only to say fuck it, I want to die, you fuckers deal with this shit on your own.

No overpowers, no useless harems, no boring MCs, it’s so far a hilarious story about the one guy completely incapable of playing along with the world, and how said world, which keeps getting standard boring guys who do fuckall and just end up indulging in their newfound powers, deals with him, including the love interest, which the guy barely acknowledges, and the standard cute cat girl that’s now the jobber of the group.

7/10, could have tried to make a more unique world, oh well.

Shikanoko Nokonoko Koshitantan

Not gonna lie, I too fell for the earworm of a theme song that dominated memes for a good month before release, and while it does have its moments, it hasn’t really lived up to the potential of it’s wacky premise, mainly because it tries too hard to go for the “cute girls doing cute things” angle, instead of completely embracing the batshit insanity that pops up in every episode.

I’ll still watch it, if anything, I want to see what else they come up with in between the boring school life shit.

6/10, needs more nuclear deer antlers.

Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings in Russian

There’s a good number of romcoms this season, and while all are set in high schools, since DDDD showed me there was a chance I could watch a show set in one and not deal with the usual bullshit, I gave it a watch.

It deals with the usual bullshit of school councils, school festivals, clubs and the like.

Honestly, the russian part is what made it somewhat interesting, but that hasn’t led nowhere, so now I have a female love interest that’s nothing more than your standard tsundere, and your standard male lead who at least doesn’t lack a backbone, but that overall remains boring.

5/10, the weird sister is the only interesting thing, but in a car crash sort of way, may end up dropping it if they actually try to be serious with her.

Too Many Losing Heroines

It’s garbage, had an interesting setting of following girls who are basically third wheels in their own love stories, and it could have worked, have they not chosen to tell the story from the point of view of the most boring, spineless, stuttering betamale in existence, the usual curse of the romcom, somehow turned up to 11.

It’s a pity really, overall the animation is really good, and while it gets too horny for its own good many times, it’s still cute to see those girls dealing with their unanswered feelings, a pity we can’t just follow them and instead have to stick with mister whatshisface.

3/10, dropped it after not being able to finish the latest episode (4? 5? I can’t be arsed to check), seriously, just write off the dude and the show will at least be 6/10.

I tried a couple more shows, and iseaki I didn’t know was one that I dropped after the first episode (oh no, I’m actually trapped in a VR game!!1exclamation point), and another about a drunk V-tuber who reinvents herself around alcoholism (good premise, extremely boring execution).

Not gonna lie, I only really like the first two, the other two may drop the ball really soon, and I’m another school council episode away from dropping the russian girl one, so overall it’s been a pretty underwhelming season.

Do watch DDDD though, that one truly is the absolute gem of this season!

[desiccatedwithering]

WIP: bat!Eddie

Happy International Bat Appreciation Day! Figured I might as well use @batboysxprompts's Bat to the Bone event as an excuse to post a 1k snippet of my post-s4 bat!Eddie WIP (unbeta'd so ignore any mistakes) 🦇

“Ok,” Steve says, dragging the word out, hands raised to show that he’s unarmed. “How did you get into my house? And where did you come from? Did you, like, escape from a zoo? Should I be calling animal control?”

Eddie lets out an annoyed screech, and Steve jumps.

“...You don’t have rabies, do you?” he asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

Eddie grumbles and shakes his head, giving Steve a look that hopefully comes across as offended.

Steve drags his hand through his hair and mutters, “I’m going insane. There’s no way a bat just shook its head in response to my question. Maybe this is a hallucination. Weird fucking Vecna vision, though…”

Ok. Steve clearly isn’t going to guess the truth on his own. (Which is fair, honestly, because even after getting a crash course in the craziness of the past few years, Eddie doubts that he’d believe that a bat that randomly showed up in his house could actually be a person. It’s still extremely inconvenient, though.)

He wracks his brain, trying to think of some way to communicate with Steve when he can’t actually talk to him, and— Oh. He’s kind of an idiot, isn’t he?

He starts squeaking. Short short shot, long long long, short short short. Pause. Repeat.

Steve squints up at him. “Am I actually going insane, or are you squeaking at me in morse code?”

Eddie nods so furiously his whole body bobs up and down with it, letting out a high, fast chitter. Yes yes yes yes yes!

“Do SOS again,” Steve orders, still staring.

Eddie does.

Steve literally falls to the floor. He doesn’t seem to even notice, just sits sprawled on the carpet, eyes fixed unblinking on Eddie. “Holy shit. Ok. Uh, I don’t know any other morse code, so uh, gonna have to stick with yes or no questions for now.”

Thank fuck, since Eddie hadn’t really considered what might’ve happened if Steve had learned morse code or picked up a guide in… however long Eddie was out of commission for.

“Starting off with a stupid question: You can understand everything I say, right?”

There’s a brief pause where they both stare at each other expectantly.

Hey, big boy, you gonna tell me what I should do for yes and no? He gives Steve a pointed look then squeaks another SOS.

Steve blushes and smiles sheepishly. “Shit, yeah, sorry about that. Um. One squeak for ‘yes,’ two for ‘no,’ three for ‘I don’t know,’ and four for ‘Too complicated for a yes or no.’ Sound good?”

Eddie squeaks once. Honestly, that’s surprisingly thorough.

Steve lets out a sudden, hysterical burst of laughter, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck, I can’t believe this is my life. This is crazy,” he breathes. Then he looks up at Eddie again and says, louder, “I have it on good authority that I always ask dumb questions, so don’t judge me too much. Are you a normal bat that somehow gained the ability to understand English?”

No.

“Are you… from around here?”

Yes, Eddie squeaks. Then, corrects, No. Then, shaking his head in frustration, It’s too complicated for a yes or no.

“Huh,” Steve says, squinting again. “So that sounded like yes and no?”

Yes.

“Alright… Were you born around here?”

Yes.

“But you’re not from here.”

That’s not a question, but Eddie still squeaks that it’s too complicated.

Steve adjusts so he’s sitting criss-cross applesauce, drumming his fingers against his knees. “Fuck, do we have to switch to charades or something? I don’t—”

Yes! Eddie squeaks because oh Steve is a genius. Eddie’s literally a bat right now. He was made for this.

He leaps off the chandelier—falls, really, since he’d just been awkwardly holding on with his thumbs, wings wrapped around it—and takes to the air. Sure, he’s never done this before, but hopefully it’s as instinctual as flying was. He makes a wide arc, aiming for the chandelier again. At the last second, he tucks in one wing. The shift in his center of gravity makes his stomach swoop for a moment, before his feet hit the metal and latch on. Then he’s staring at Steve’s baffled face upside down. He spreads his wings wide, shaking them a little in a sort of Ta da! gesture.

Yes, he squeaks again, for good measure, wrapping his wings around himself in a very bizarre self-hug.

He’s got bat ears now, so he doesn’t have any trouble picking up Steve’s mumbled, “Yes to charades…” His head snaps up, eyes wide. He points at Eddie. “You flipped upside down after agreeing to charades.”

Yes.

“You know about the Upside Down?”

Yes!

“Just to make sure we’re on the same page: like, the Upside Down, which is what we call an alternate dimension filled with monsters.”

Eddie’s not sure if his eye roll gets across or if it’s the exasperated tone of his answering Yes, but Steve also rolls his eyes in response.

“Jeez, sorry for trying to get clarification from the enormous bat that appeared in my house and started communicating with me in morse code.”

Eddie’s ears droop in a hopefully apologetic looking expression, and he lets out a low chitter.

“Don’t worry about it. I get it’s probably frustrating that you’re talking to me rather than someone smarter.” Before Eddie can even think of a way to push back on that, Steve’s moving on: “Ok, so you were born here, but you’re from the Upside Down? Is that what you were trying to say before?”

Yes! Eddie squeaks, hoping that if it seems enthusiastic enough, Steve will realize that he’s doing an incredible job with this. Someone else probably would have called animal control, or wouldn’t be able to figure out Eddie’s mixed messages and ask the right follow up questions.

“Now, when you say you were born here, is that, like, here as in Hawkins or this planet or—? Shit, sorry. Were you born around Hawkins?”

Yes.

“Did you… live in Hawkins before being in the Upside Down?”

Yes.

“Have you always been a bat?”

No.

“Were you a person?”

Oh, Eddie could kiss him. He barely stops himself from dropping from the chandelier to curl up in Steve’s lap, and that’s only because he thinks Steve might have some trauma-based unpleasant reactions to a bat shaped creature suddenly diving at him.

Yes.

Steve takes a deep breath, voice wavering just a bit as he asks, “Did I know you when you were a person?”

Yes!

This whole time, Steve’s been curling into himself more and more, knees tucked to his chest, arm wrapped around his shins, hands clutching his sleeves with white knuckles. He’s balled up smaller than Eddie’s ever seen him. Looking terrified in a way he didn’t when facing down actual monsters and the literal end of the world. He looks like Eddie’s next answer has the potential to shatter him completely.

“…Eddie?” he whispers.

Yes! Eddie squeaks, loud enough that Steve jumps. He wants to repeat it, wants to say it over and over because honestly he never really imagined that someone would figure it out, let alone with a single conversation—but that’d be confusing, so he settles for a high pitched trill to convey his excitement.

[absurdthirst]

A Fork in the Road {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.9k

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, embezzlement, angst, desperation, irritation, mentions of anal plugs, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, blackmail, extortion

Comments: Coming out of his latest rehab stint, Dieter Bravo learns he's broke. Money and everything he owns stolen, dropped from his agencies, he ends up crashing with you, his former assistant. Living with you and trying to make a comeback in Hollywood, Dieter comes to a fork in the road. Question is, which path will he choose?

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

"What do you mean it's all gone?" Dieter asks the CEO of his investment company, sitting in his fancy office on Olive Street, and he stares in shock. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bravo. Mr. Lewis took it all. We - we have background checks but I- I do not know what happened with your money. He has transferred it to multiple accounts and the police are tracing it but he knew what he was doing. While you were away-" 

Dieter shakes his head, "I was in fucking rehab for three months. I come out and every penny I own is gone. Even my goddamn house. Who - what - someone should be responsible. I need my fucking money. I - I need to talk to someone about getting it back. Some reimbursement." Dieter growls, slapping his hand down on the desk and he could really use a hit right now to calm down. 

"I'm sorry Mr. Bravo, we will let you know as soon as we have news. The FBI too. This is a high profile case." 

Dieter shakes his head, "thanks for nothing, asshole." He growls, standing up, and he makes his way outside to hail a taxi. The state took his license after he was caught with a hospital worth of meds in the car, off his head on everything he could have taken without killing himself. It was stupid, he knows that now, but back then, he thought he was invincible. He only has one place he can go now. He gives the driver your address and when he arrives, he knocks on your door.

You pause the show you are watching, wondering who the hell is at the door. You didn’t order food and there is a very prominent No Soliciting sticker on your door. Not that you could buy anything anyway. Since Dieter has been at rehab, your paycheck hasn’t come through and every time you call Lewis’s office, they claim that he’s in a meeting and you will get a call back. It’s bad enough that you’ve been living on your savings and DoorDash-ing to pay the bills. Hopefully Dieter, will get his dumb ass out of rehab for the third time so you can get paid. “Dieter!” The man in question is in your doorway, looking miserable. “You’re out!”

Dieter pushes past you to enter your house. “I need your help.” He says immediately, spinning to face you. “I’m fucked.” He runs his fingers through his hair, longer since his stint in rehab. “I- Lewis is gone. He’s taken all my money. The house is gone. My car. All of it.” He reveals, “they can’t find him. Apparently the alphabet boys are trying to hunt it down but it’s gone and I- shit. I don’t have anywhere to live,”

Your jaw drops in shock. “What? How? Oh my god, no fucking wonder I haven’t been paid.” 

Dieter frowns and shakes his head. “What the fuck do you mean?” He huffs. “I pay you.” You snort. 

“Lewis paid me through your company.” You remind Dieter. “I was an employee, but I haven’t gotten a paycheck since you left for rehab and they kept telling me he would call me back.”

“That motherfucker.” Dieter hisses, pissed that you haven’t been paid. He never would have allowed that. You should’ve been paid even if he was in rehab. “I’m so sorry. Fucker, I can’t - fuck!” He shouts, clenching his fists before he calms down, remembering his coping methods despite the urge to call his dealer. “I need a favor.” He tells you, brushing down his sweatpants. 

“What?” You ask and he sighs. 

“I need a place to live. They’ve seized my house and I need somewhere to sleep. Can I- could I stay here?” He asks, face softening. “I swear you won’t even know I’m here.”

That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one. Dieter is anything but quiet, or a good guest. However, you also know that without money or drugs, ninety-nine percent of Dieter's so called ‘friends’ are history. There’s no way you can kick him while he’s down, especially fresh out of rehab. It would send him straight back into a pile of pills. Sighing, you point at him. “I’m not cleaning up after you.” You warn him.

Dieter grins, rushing over to you and he cups your cheeks, kissing your lips. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He rushes out, letting go of you and he grabs his phone. “I’ll get my stuff. Well, what I have left, from the hotel room I got yesterday after heading home to find I couldn’t get in my house. Thank you sweetheart. I owe you big when we get this shit sorted out. I’ll be back.” He tells you, typing in the address for the Uber. He only has enough money to last him a week or so, so he needs to get out there and start getting a new role.

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Save your money.” You huff, knowing that he won’t think about how expensive the Uber will be there and back. “I’ll take you to get your stuff so you don’t have to waste it on an Uber.” You know that he will land a new role quickly, he’s talented and your eyes widen slightly. “What about all your stuff? Your Oscar?”

“In storage apparently. The bastards let me have that and my Razzie. Hey, things get bad…I can sell those.” He jokes, despite knowing that even in his lowest moments, he never considered selling those precious items. “In storage for another two days or so. I gotta get it out.” He sighs, rubbing his cheek. “Bastard.” He curses Lewis, feeling like such a fool but he is determined to rise above it all. They will find his money and in the meantime, he just needs to get a new role to get some money coming in. “I’ll sort this out, promise.” He offers you an Oscar winning smile while you grab your purse.

You know that Dieter will probably sulk for at least a day or two. Which is fair considering he just had millions of dollars stolen from him. “I’m sorry.” You murmur softly as you both climb into your car and you start it up. “I know that you’re getting fucked over but I’m sure you will pick up a role quickly.” You pull out of the driveway and start down your street. “What hotel did you stay at?”

He flusters, “um, my cards have been stopped so I just - I only had cash. It’s the, uh, Motel 6 off of Hollywood Boulevard.” He bites his lip, knowing he’s had a hard fall from grace. “I don’t have a lot. Gotta get it from storage and I- I gotta look up an NA meeting nearby. It’s required.”

“Nothing wrong with a Motel 6.” You hum. You aren’t going to pile onto him. “We will get your stuff and swing by your storage room. See how much stuff is there.” As much as you rolled your eyes at Dieter’s antics, he had always insisted you be paid well for putting up with his shit. It was a lot more than other assistants. So helping him through this is something that you owe him. “Although, hopefully you haven’t painted the wall in this room?” You tease, reminding him of when he painted the murals on the wall in England while he was trapped on the Cliff Beasts set.

Dieter snorts, looking out of the window. “No. I didn’t. I, uh, haven’t really done a lot of painting since then. Been too busy. Well, until rehab.” He sighs, wishing he could go back in time to stop himself from getting in that car but he was so high at the time, he just wanted McDonalds and figured he’d drive. A stupid mistake that has cost him more than he could’ve imagined. “I’m gonna call my agent tomorrow. See what jobs I can get an audition for.”

You frown slightly, worried about how he will take this new development. You hadn’t wanted to worry him with it while he was in rehab, wanting him to focus on getting clean. “Uh, about that…” 

Dieter groans. “What?” 

You pull up to the red light and sigh, looking over at him, “your agent dropped you after the DWI. Said that she couldn’t keep you on. Too many incidents.”

Dieter stares at the red light, just processing the information, and it takes him several moments to react. He’s just blinking over and over again until the light turns green. “Fuck!” He shouts, his entire body shaking with the exclamation and he slaps the air. “Those fuckers! I - I’ll sue. I’ll get an attorney and sue them.” He growls but you sigh, “with what money?” 

He pauses, slumping down in the seat as you drive. “Fuck.” He rubs his cheek, “shit.” He huffs, closing his eyes, accepting that he’s been dropped. “I, uh, I’ve auditioned without management before. When I got - when I was first starting out. I can do it again.”

You don’t mention the obvious. That Dieter Bravo has had several high profile incidents that would make any studio wary of taking him on. Instead you reach over and pat his thigh. “It will work out.” You tell him encouragingly. “I - I’m going to have to start looking for a job too.” The light turns green and you pull your hand away so you can drive. The motel isn’t too far and you wonder how long it will take before Dieter spirals. He doesn’t like when things don’t go his way.

Dieter sighs, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You shouldn’t have had to do that. I know you want to be a writer one day. I, uh, have you been working on any scripts?” He asks, wanting to distract himself from his misery, his fuck ups.

Despite heavy drug use and at times questionable morals, Dieter actually listens. When he’s not being a prick. At least he actually listened to you and didn’t mock you when you had admitted it wasn’t your dream job to be a celebrity flunky. You wanted to make the movies. Screenwriter, really. “I’ve almost got one finished. Maybe you could read it for me?” You ask, knowing he might like feeling important, “point out things to punch it up?”

Dieter chuckles sharply, “not like I got anything else to do.” He sighs, feeling guilty, and he looks over at you. “Sorry. I- that was an asshole thing to say. I’d love to read it. You want me to read it?” He catches up with his mind, happy that you want him to read it. He’s just an actor. He merely says the lines.

The annoyance at his comment flares and then quickly dies. Dieter acts out when he’s upset, you know this. In a lot of ways, being his assistant was like having a child. “If you want.” You shrug slightly and pull into the parking lot of the motel. “You know what jumps out at you when you read scripts.”

Dieter pats his pants to find the key, glad you are helping him, and he is gonna have to find a way to thank you. Usually he would just buy something extravagant but he can’t do that now. “I’ll read it. Maybe you could cast me if it gets picked up?” He half jokes, opening the door after you park outside of the room he points too.

You hum, knowing that he might be perfect for the role, considering that you had based the character on him. “You might be perfect for it.” You tell him. The room is disheveled in typical Dieter fashion, making you grin. The man could not pick up his socks to save his life. “Already comfortable, I see.”

He blushes, knowing you’ve seen worse from him, but he can’t disrespect your home by acting like a drugged up raccoon. He rushes around trying to pick everything up but struggles. The drugs have really gotten to him in his older age.

He’s not paying you, but you still help him. Going into the bathroom to pick up the all natural products he insisted on. Luckily he still has plenty, because that shit is expensive and he won’t be able to afford it for long. He’ll be using a brand from the drugstore like everyone else. “Don’t forget your charger.” You remind him, knowing he always leaves it.

He offers you a grateful grunt before he grabs the charger, shoving it in his vegan leather duffel bag. He sighs once the room is cleaned up. “Fucking hated this place.” He huffs, spinning on his heel to head back out to your car, shoving his bags in the trunk and he gets in the front seat, already planning how he’s gonna get a role as soon as possible so he can get his lifestyle back.

You snort and shake your head. “You know that’s where they normally put the crew.” You tell him. ���Only reason I get to stay in a room in the hotels you’re put up at is that it was written into your contract so I could manage you.”

“Seriously? They- the crew has to stay in places like this?” He asks, supposing he’s never really thought about it. Especially when he’s in a suite in a four or five star hotel. It makes him uncomfortable, to think of the crews he’s worked with having to stay in this motel whenever he goes anywhere.

“It’s not horrible, if they are clean. Which, thank God, they at least make sure of that. But yeah.” You pull out of the parking spot and pull around towards the street. “The talent is where they spend the money.”

Dieter nods, knowing that once he’s back in action, he will fight for better accommodations for the crew. “I’ll see what I can do about that.” He promises, “I’m glad you had a hotel room. You deserved it for putting up with my ass. I, uh, I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten for a couple of days.”

“Dieeeterrrr.” You sigh, hating how he doesn’t take care of himself. “Okay. We’ll get you something to eat.” You promise, looking over at him. “What do you want? Do you want to pick something up? I’ll pay for it.” You’re better off financially than he is. “What do you want?”

“Tacos.” He says, almost bashfully. His stomach growls now that he’s in a safe space and he isn’t stressed by the state of his financial affairs. He wants food and he decides to keep a note of whatever you get so he can pay you back when he gets his money back. “Can we get tacos?” He rephrases.

“Of course we can.” You nod, willing to get him whatever he wants, but tacos are easy. “We’ll have tacos and some chips and salsa for dinner. I’ve got some beer at the house too, just have a relaxing night.”

He nods, offering you a smile. “Thank you, sweetheart. Seriously, I couldn’t - I couldn’t do this without you.” He offers you a brief moment of appreciation and he knows he’d be lost without you. You soon pick up the tacos and salsa and chips and you drive home. He quickly sets his things in your guest room before you both settle down to eat. “To losing everything.” He toasts, wanting to make a joke of his utter fall from the pedestal Hollywood put him on.

You lift your own drink up. “To starting over sober.” You offer. “Maybe now I won’t have to walk into the orgies you would have.” You snort, shaking your head when you think about some of the shit that he would do.

He chuckles, unashamed of his sexual escapades despite most of them being drug induced. When he was high, he wanted contact, he wanted to feel wanted. Those stupid insecurities he’s carried his entire life since he was a kid driving him to crave intimacy. Even if he had to pay for it. 

He knows now that he needs to continue going to therapy, to talk about his mother’s rejection of him and how that led to his habits. He knows he needs to go to NA and remain sober. He has no choice now. It’s cost him his career and his livelihood so he needs to focus on his sobriety and getting his career back. “No orgies.” He promises, “but I can have threesomes?” He asks. You raise your eyebrows and he chuckles, “no threesomes. Got it.”

God, you hadn’t considered Dieter bringing someone over. It wasn’t like you had an active dating life. You couldn’t when you were traveling with him or at his beck and call all the time. “Just let me know about your meetings.” You pick up one of your tacos. “I’ll take you. I want you to succeed.”

“Thank you.” He finds himself saying that again and he truly means it. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t taken him in. “Can you get me some water?” He asks, acting like you are still employed by him and the moment you just had is gone.

You stare at him for a moment before you put your taco down and get up to get him some water. You should tell him no but you don’t. You’ll do it tomorrow. Tonight he just needs to relax. “Here.” You bring out a bottle of water you had in your refrigerator and hand it to him.

He doesn’t say thank you this time. Too used to you doing what he wants. He finishes his tacos and rubs his stomach, “fuck. I needed that.” He yawns, exhausted now that he’s full. It’s been a stressful two days and he didn’t exactly sleep well in the Motel 6. He pats his belly, “I’m gonna head to bed.” He stands up, leaving his plate and makes his way into the bedroom. He looks back at you, “it’s gonna be fun living together, right sweetheart? Goodnight.” He declares and disappears into the bedroom.

**** 

You’re going to fucking kill him. He’s awake at all damn hours of the night, doing God knows what. He leaves shit everywhere and expects the magic fucking maid fairy to pick it up. And if he fucking pisses on the toilet one more time you’re going to kill him. “I’m going to fucking kill him!” You hiss, yanking the dishwasher open to deposit the eight glasses you have found scattered around your house. Plus the bottle of cigarette butts from the porch - that went in the trash.

Dieter groans as he opens the bedroom door. It’s 3 in the afternoon and he was up all night trying to find auditions. It’s been a few weeks and he hasn’t found a single acting job. Unless he resorts to porn. He’d do it but it wouldn’t do his movie career any good. He is desperate to get a role. The money hasn’t been found by the FBI and they seem to have given up. He’s getting more and more desperate by the day and he is spiraling. When he stumbles into the kitchen, he sees you standing there with your arms crossed. “Everything okay?” He frowns, opening the fridge to take out the milk.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, twisting the cap off the bottle and lifting the entire thing to his lips to start chugging. Making you wrinkle your nose as he drinks the milk straight from the jug. While you appreciate not messing up another cup, it’s gross. Especially when you know where Dieter Bravo’s lips have been at times. He’s in boxers and - is that your silk bathroom? You grit your teeth in frustration. Crocs round out the outfit, as well as his hair sticking up every direction. Obviously he just woke up. “No, everything isn’t ‘okay’, Bravo.” You hiss finally. 

Dieter frowns, setting the milk down on the counter and he wipes his lips. “What’s wrong? Is it- shit. Did I leave the toilet seat up again?” He asks, knowing you hate that. He is trying to be less selfish but he’s been used to being pampered for years, it’s a hard habit to break.

“Yes.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “And leaving cups around the house for me to pick up. Drinking from the milk jug. That’s gross.” You throw your hands up. “You expect me to cook for you because you don’t know how. I just- Dieter, you have to start taking care of things yourself!”

Dieter shifts from one foot to the other, at least having the decency to look ashamed. “I- I’m sorry sweetheart. It’s just- no one has taught me. My mom…I never got shown how to do anything. Kinda had to figure it out for myself and by the time I had to really worry about that stuff, it was already being taken care of for me. I want to learn. Show me what I need to do.” He pleads, not wanting you to kick him out of your home. He’d be on the streets if he couldn’t find a shelter.

Your anger deflates quickly, shoulders rounding. You've heard him talk about the problems with his mom and you don’t want him to feel like it’s another hurdle in getting back on his feet. “Okay.” You agree, dropping your hands and taking a deep breath. You had known it was going to be exasperating at times to live with Dieter. “First thing, if you get it out, you put it up. Okay? We don’t have a maid and I’m going to be starting work soon.” You had an interview with another up and coming celebrity and you were just waiting on the call back, but you know it’s going to happen.

Dieter nods, “I can do that. When - when are you starting work?” He inquires, curious as to who you are going to be working for. He won’t admit it but he’s a little jealous to think of you with someone else. He doesn’t want you to be unemployed but he’s a little jealous of you working for another actor. “I won’t drink from the milk jug anymore.” He concedes.

“I’m expecting the call this week.” You had been told to stay by your phone, only waiting on the required background check. Which you know will come back good. “It’s supposed to be flexible so I can finish up my script.” Which he hadn’t read yet. You don’t bother to remind him of his promise to read it, but it kind of hurts your feelings.

The lightbulb goes off in Dieter’s head. Your script. That he was supposed to read. “Shit. I - can I get another copy? I swear I want to read it but it got lost in the other scripts I’m studying for auditions. I have one tomorrow. Finally. It’s not - it’s nothing special but it’s money.” He shrugs, knowing he needs to start from scratch after every agency in L.A seemed to laugh in his face about him getting back into acting. “I’m glad you’ve found something. Hopefully, this is temporary and I can start paying you again once I’ve gotten back into blockbusters. You want to - can you show me how to use the dishwasher?”

You are used to Dieter constantly switching from one topic to another so you don’t let it phase you. Instead you turn back to the machine and open it. “Sure. Come over here you big baby and I’ll show you how to load the dishwasher.”

He rushes over, watching you load the dishes. “Cups on top, dishes below and cutlery goes here.” You show him before you grab a dishwasher pod and show him how to turn it on. He bites his lip, turning towards you. “We might have to run through that again.” He admits, “and the washer? I should probably wash my clothes.” He had taken to stealing your robe and just lounging around in it unless he had to get dressed. He’s been a movie star for nearly thirty years. He hasn’t had to do much in his life.

You wrinkle your nose and nod. “I’m sure you have a pile of dirty clothes.” You’ve picked up plenty of the socks and other bullshit that Dieter left around, but you’ve not done any of his clothes. It doesn’t shock you that Dieter doesn’t know how to do laundry. “Have you at least used the laundry basket in the guest room? Or is everything laying around everywhere?”

He bites his lip, looking guilty enough to make you sigh. “Grab the basket and pick everything up so we can get it washed.” He nods and walks into the guest room, clothes everywhere and the blinds are closed. “We will wash the bedsheets too.” You tell him, not judging but you know you washed them a couple of weeks after he moved in and they haven’t been done since. “I’m sorry I’m so fucking useless.” Dieter starts to wail, sobbing as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

Oh boy. You kneel down and put your hand on Dieter’s knee. “Stop it.” You tell him sternly, making his eyes widen slightly as you take a tone with him that you haven’t before. “You are a talented man. Fucking gifted. You are smart. This is going to be a piece of cake for you to learn.” Your words soften slightly and you give him a small smile of encouragement. “Look at this like you are studying for a role. Your next role is that of a house husband.” You joke.

He sniffs, processing your words, and eventually he nods. Wiping his eyes, he knows you are right. He can do this. He has to do this. He offers you a watery smile, "house husband. Kinda like that." He chuckles and you snort, grinning at him. "Come on, let's get this gathered up and I will show you how to use the washer and dryer." You promise and he nods, determined to learn. Before you walk away, he reaches out to grab your hand, "thank you...for helping me with, well, everything."

**** 

When you open the door to your home, you hear Dieter cursing and he looks up when you find him in the kitchen. He’s covered in flour and cringes, “I, uh, I’m sorry about the mess.” He had tried to follow the recipe but in his enthusiasm, the kitchen is a disaster and he’s waiting for the cake to cook but he forgot how long it’s been in there for. He wanted to do something nice to thank you for letting him stay but he has officially run out of money for non essentials and he wanted to get you something.

You could be mad, probably should be considering that there is egg yolk dripping off the counter and flour everywhere - but all you can do is grin. “What’s all this?” You ask as you set your bag down on a blessedly clean chair and walk into the kitchen. Dieter looks around and motions to the oven. 

“I, uh, I’m baking a cake.” You never thought you would find Dieter covered in flour and baking a cake in your kitchen but it's so damn cute that it makes you laugh. 

“Really? That’s great!” You huff, it’s like he’s a little kid trying to make breakfast for mom and failing spectacularly. “Is it almost done? It smells like it.” 

Dieter blushes, “I, uh, I forgot the timer.” He admits, “I just - I wanted to make something nice for you to say thank you for letting me live with you. I know I’m not the easiest man to have in the house and I- I thought this would be a nice way to say thanks. I’ve - shit - I made icing and I wanted it to be done before you got home.”

The thought is even sweeter when you realize why he is going through the effort and mess. “That’s okay.” You assure him, moving towards the oven and grabbing a pot holder. “If you want to check the doneness of a cake, stick a toothpick in it.” You instruct him as you open the door to a wave of heat and the delicious scent of a cake. “If it comes out clean, it’s done.” 

Dieter nods, “I can do that.” He reaches for the drawer to grab a toothpick and he leans over, inserting it and it comes out clean. “Oh thank fuck I didn’t burn it.” He chuckles nervously. “Now we decorate it?” He guesses and you shake your head. 

“You gotta let it cook first.” 

He nods, sitting down after you turn off the oven. He taps his fingers, growing impatient. “Can’t we put it in the fridge? I want to decorate it for you. Can you act surprised? I just- it’s for you.” He adds bashfully.

It’s endearing, the way that he is very timid right now. Making your heart melt at how he is trying to do something nice for you. “It will be fine in the fridge.” You agree as you pull out a cooling rack for him to put it on. “I will go take a bath to relax and when I come out, I will be completely surprised by the wonderful thought.” You promise with a soft smile. 

Dieter grins, grateful you’re playing along. “Oh! How was work today?” He asks, wondering how it’s been going with your new boss. He can’t deny he’s a little jealous but he won’t be childish for once and sulk. You are paying the bills after all.

“Honestly?” You take a deep breath and shake your head. “It was great. We get along fantastically and there’s not a whole lot of -” You remember you are talking to the man who had been your boss, who had made a lot of the foolish demands that would drive you crazy. “It’s going to be a good fit I think. The pay is nice.” 

Dieter nods, a little sad you are working for someone else but he's happy you have found a job you like. He watches you hesitate for a second before you tell him you are going to have a bath and he sets to work on the cake. He patiently - impatiently really - waits for the cake to cool down then he decorates it with the frosting he had made. He had tried a bunch of it before he decided it was good enough for the cake and he manages to write out "thank you" in icing that he colored with cocoa powder. He knows it's not neat but it's the best he could do.

In the bath, you take your time, knowing that Dieter will probably need every second to ice the cake and hopefully clean up the kitchen a little. He’s been getting better, you have to admit that. Although he was still selfish sometimes, you know you won’t break him of that. It’s just a part of who Dieter is, although this is uncharacteristically kind of him. Maybe he’ll even read your script like he promised he would. After nearly an hour, you get out and get dressed in your lounge clothes and come back out into the living room. “I’m home.” You announce playfully. 

Dieter has been anxious for you to see and taste the cake since he finished decorating it. It wasn’t easy to do and he hopes you don’t think he totally fucked it up. He watches you walk into the almost clean kitchen and he grins, proud of what he has accomplished. “Ta dah!” He gestures to the cake on the counter, praying you like it.

Walking into the kitchen, your eyes light up when you see the cake. “Diet! It’s- it’s wonderful.” You gush, the icing isn’t perfect and the lettering isn’t either but you love the effort that he put into this. It might be the sweetest thing that he’s ever done. Walking over to him, you kiss his cheek gently. “Thank you, I- I want to have a slice right now.” You hum, giving him a grin. “Have one with me?”

He blushes deeply at your praise, recognizing that need while he was in rehab and was in therapy. Always seeking the praise his mother never gave him. He is so happy to see you love it though and he grabs the knife and two plates, cutting into his creation with a little bit of melancholy since it took so long, but he’s eager for you to try it.

You pour two glasses of milk to have with the cake and smile when both you and Dieter sit down at the small table together. “You didn’t have to do this.” You promise him as you pick up your fork and cut off a piece of the cake. “But I love this. I’ve been craving something sweet and you’ve taken care of that.” 

He waits for your reaction, almost frozen as he prays you don’t spit it out and say it tastes like shit. He knows it’s unlikely that you’d do that but who knows…his prior asshole self probably would’ve done that. “How is it?” He asks, biting his lip as he eagerly awaits your reaction.

Eyes widening in surprise, you make a noise of pleasure. “Holy shit.” You manage after you swallow. “It’s really good. I mean that, it’s really good.” You eagerly take another piece of the cake and shove it in your mouth and follow it up with a swallow of milk. “Oh my god.” You moan. 

Your moan makes his long abandoned cock twitch. Fuck, you sounded so sweet. It’s been so long since he had anything other than his hand and right now, he wants to eat you more than the cake. He never really saw you as a sexual option when he employed you, even he has guidelines, but fuck, that moan. He shifts to cross his legs to hide his erection before he takes a bite of his own creation, his own moan escaping him.

Nodding in agreement, you try not to let Dieter’s sound get to you. Instead you focus on the cake and the immense pleasure you get from each sweet bite. It is perfect for satiating that sweet tooth you’ve had. Halfway through your slice, you look over at him. “This was really sweet. I appreciate it.” You give him a sweet smile. “I’m going to regret this when I don’t fit into my outfit next week.” 

Dieter scoffs before he frowns, “what’s next week?” He asks, wondering what the hell you are doing. He knows you inside and out. You don’t date, you never have plans. He was your whole life up until he went to rehab again and that hasn’t really changed.

You hesitate for a second before you roll your eyes at yourself. Dieter doesn’t care what you do and you don’t work for him anymore. So it’s not like you have to worry about him calling you away now. “I have a date next Friday.” You announce with a small grin. “It might roll into Saturday if it goes well, who knows?” You add. It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten laid and you really need it at this point. You haven’t even masturbated since Dieter moved in. 

That doesn’t sit well with Dieter. He swallows harshly, reaching for the milk to take a gulp and he forces every acting skill he has to offer you a smile and a “that’s nice.” He doesn’t say another word as he sets the glass down and takes another bite of the cake. “Who’s the guy?” He adds after several moments of heavy silence between you.

You bite your lip and reach for your own glass of milk for another drink. Wondering how Dieter will take the news of who you are going out on a date with. “Charlie Squires.” You admit, looking over at the cake and then back down at your plate. Charlie was an actor, someone who moved in the same circles Dieter had before his fall from grace, although Charlie wasn’t into the drug scene like Dieter was. 

He clenches his jaw. Fuck, he hates Charlie. The current golden boy of Hollywood. He was in some fucking superhero movies and suddenly, he’s the next big thing. He’s muscular too. Bright blue eyes. Dieter huffs, setting down his fork. “Yeah. He’s, uh, he’s a nice guy.” He says it a little harshly but who can blame him? He doesn’t want you going on this date.

Dieter is not happy, that much is obvious, but you try to ignore it. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You promise lightly, not mentioning that Charlie had been the one to ask you and mention that he had been interested in getting to know you for a while. Actually had been asking around to find out where you had gone after Dieter dropped off the face of the planet before you had run into him at the studio where his next movie is being shot. “Dinner and whatever happens.” 

Dieter offers you a tight smile, knowing he can’t ruin this for you. “That’s nice,” he says it a little sarcastically but you can’t blame him. He knows you should be out there, dating and getting laid, but he fucking hates the thought of you with Charlie. If he was truly honest with himself, he’d say anyone. He sighs and sets his fork down, “I’m gonna - I’m gonna do the dishes. You wanna finish your cake and find a movie or something?” He offers, needing a moment alone.

“Yeah.” You stare at him in confusion for a moment but he’s already pushing away from the table and turning back to the kitchen. Frowning, you shake your head and look down at the cake. Why can’t he be happy you have a date? Is it because you don’t belong with celebrities since you are just an assistant? Ironic considering this assistant is the only reason that he has a place to live. There weren’t lines of people begging him to live with them when he was at his lowest. You huff and pick up your cake to take it into the living room. If he couldn’t be happy for you, then fuck him.

****

Dieter taps his knee, anxious about you going on this date. He tries to be happy for you but something just isn’t sitting right with him. He runs his fingers through his hair, listening to you get ready and he stands when he hears the clink of your heels. He walks into the living room and his jaw drops at the pretty dress you’re wearing. “Holy shit.” He gasps

“Is it okay?” You are officially a little panicked but you can’t help it. You are going out with a celebrity. He had warned you that there might be paps around and you don’t want to embarrass him. “Not too much? Or is it not enough? I should change, shouldn’t I?”

He stares at you for another few minutes before he shakes his head, “no. No. It’s - it’s perfect. You look - you look fucking incredible.” He blinks dumbstruck. He’s always thought you were a beautiful woman but to see you going out on a date with someone he can’t stand, it kills him. He wants to beg you to not go, to stomp his feet like he would’ve done if you were still employed by him. He can’t do that, it’s not fair. “He’s gonna - he’s gonna be blown away.”

You smile in relief, reaching out to touch his shoulder in appreciation for calming you down. “Thanks.” You tilt your head at him curiously. “What are your plans tonight? Movie and pizza or do you have a date of your own?”

He snorts, “no. No. I’ll be here. Probably gonna try and find another audition.” He’s also been secretly reading your script. It’s brilliant and he’s made notes but he knows if you got it in the right hands, it would be picked up. He rubs his thighs and sits down on the sofa, trying to stop himself from making you stay. Old Dieter would’ve made up some excuse to stop you from going but he’s not that man anymore. He won’t be a selfish asshole.

You lean in and cup his cheek. “You will find an amazing project.” You promise him, bussing his cheek with a small kiss and smudging your lipstick on his skin. Your phone buzzes and your eyes widen slightly as you pull back. “Okay, that’s him.” You stand tall and straighten your dress. “Wish me luck!” Grabbing your purse, you quickly disappear out the door.

He watches you go and suddenly realizes that he doesn’t want you to go on this date. He wants you to go on a date with him. He wants you to be with him. You’ve been so good to him, teaching him life skills that his parents had neglected to teach him, too focused on him being an actor, and he can never repay you for that. He’s good for nearly an hour before he grabs his phone, deciding to get you back home from the date. He sends a quick text, “need you to come home ASAP. Dishwasher isn’t working.” It’s lame but it’s all he could think of.

You blow out a sigh when you see Dieter’s text. You reply. “It’s okay, I’ll look at it when I get home.” He probably didn’t set it right. You put your phone away but it dings again. 

“It’s spraying water everywhere.” 

“Shit.” You look over at Charlie and sigh. “I need to go back home, there’s apparently some kind of emergency. Water.”

When the door lock rattles, Dieter sits up straight and waits for you. He’s pleased that his excuse worked but he’s also guilty for ruining your date. You immediately walk into the kitchen to find the dishwasher running and no water. “What the hell, Bravo?” You hiss, stomping back into the living room where Dieter just sits with his arms crossed, pouting and refusing to look at you.

“The water isn’t leaking, so why exactly did you text me that it was?” You demand, glaring at him but he won’t even look at you. “Oh my fucking God!” You snap, annoyed that he is back up to his old tricks. “I’m leaving, and you better not text me fucking lies again. Unless the house is actually on fire!” You pull out your phone to text Charlie again, hoping you can salvage your date with him.

Dieter stands up, shaking his head. "No. I, uh, I'm sorry for lying but you can't go back on the date." He rushes out. 

You narrow your eyes at him, "why not? I'm not your assistant anymore. You can't control what I do." 

Dieter nods, "I know. I know. I just - fuck. Living with you is impossible." He growls.

Huffing incredulously, you can’t believe him. “Living with me is impossible?” You choke out. “I listen to 3 AM mantras when you can’t sleep and lord knows how many times to you jerking off. And yet I’m impossible to live with? When was the last time I fucking left a butt plug in the sink in the bathroom?”

Dieter pauses for a moment, not minding the idea of that, before he shakes his head. “No. No. You don’t fucking understand. Since I stopped - since I stopped taking drugs I have all of these stupid fucking emotions and I can’t - it’s so much to handle because you’re you and you’ve always been you, and I never noticed you before until now.” He pants and you cross your arms, “what the hell are you talking about, Bravo?” He huffs, taking a step closer to you. “It’s impossible to live with you because I’m in love with you.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. Dieter Bravo loves the idea of love but he only loves himself. “No you don’t, you just- you’re grateful that I gave you a place to stay.” You soften slightly, knowing Dieter still struggles with sobriety and has been working on keeping clean. It’s not been easy with the number of rejections he’s had professionally. “Dieter…” you step closer to him and brush his hair back. “It’s okay to be scared but just because I’m going on a date doesn’t mean I’m going to forget about you. Or kick you out. I didn’t kick you out when you nearly caught the kitchen on fire.” You smirk, remembering how panicked he had been when the pizza had been black coming out.

Dieter shakes his head, reaching out to grab your hips. "No. No. I - I know how I feel. I've never felt like this before. I can't wait for you to come home, I love just sitting beside you, not even talking. I love watching you when you are getting ready in the morning. I love the way your nose crinkles when you are writing. I love you. You are my home. I haven't - I haven't had a home. My parents just wanted me to make them money as an actor and they didn't hug me or look after me or do anything a parent should do. You taught me how to look after myself and you taught me what it feels like to belong somewhere. I love you. I love you." He shifts to kneel down, clinging to your legs and he closes his eyes, praying he doesn't lose you.

Of all the things you had thought would happen, having Dieter Bravo on his knees in front of you was the last of those. There have been a lot of times you imagined it, Dieter is handsome in a very carefree or messy kind of way and he cleans up very nicely. Charming when he wants to be. It’s not like you haven’t entertained fantasies with him, especially when you know he loves sex. Reaching down, your fingers slide through the curly strands of his hair. “Okay, I - I’ll stay home.” You murmur quietly, wondering if he really means it.

Dieter is relieved but he always wants to show you how much he loves you, how much he wants you. He lets go of your legs and runs his hands along their length. “Can I - I want to taste you. Tell me no if you don’t want me to touch you.” He orders, not wanting to cross the line.

You’ve always wondered if he was good in bed. You’ve heard that he was amazing, and that he was selfish. One particular incident was one lover throwing Dieter out of her room at one in the morning screaming about him being a two pump chump. He had been incredibly high. Right now though, his eyes are clear and lust filled. You swallow and nod, biting your lip as you give him permission.

He slowly, so slowly, reaches up to hook his fingers in your panties after sliding them under your dress. He pulls them down, his eyes on yours, and when you step out of them, he tosses them aside. He doesn’t dive in. No, he kisses along your calf up to your knee, licking the spot behind it and he kisses up your thigh, ducking his head under your dress and he groans at the heady scent of you. His lips kiss along your thigh and he sucks on your hip, making you gasp. He kisses along your mound until he breathes you in. Finally, his tongue slides between your folds, a heavy groan escaping his lips and vibrating into you at the tangy taste of you.

You’d expected him to be eager, rushed. Greedy with the number of swipes of his tongue before he was ready to move on. You hadn’t expected him to lick your cunt like he has all the time in the world. Tossing your head back, you moan, loving how slowly he explores you. Your hips shuffling forward, and your fingers grasping for his head while he tastes you. “Dieter.” You pant breathlessly, this once imagined scene now a reality in your living room.

Dieter groans, loving how you taste and he reaches for your thigh, lifting it onto his shoulder and he moans into your flesh when you open up for him, allowing him to push his tongue deep inside of you. For once, this isn’t about him. It’s about you and his love for you. Sex has always been mutual gratification but Dieter doesn’t care if you don’t fuck him or suck him after, he just wants to make you feel what he feels for you.

Whimpering, your head falls forward, hating how you can’t see him under your dress. You reach for the zipper, tugging it down so you can pull your dress over your head. Leaving you in just your bra and heels while Dieter’s head comes into view and you moan when his eyes open and look up at you.

He loves your moans, his hands gripping your ass to keep your hips tilted so he can delve deeper inside of you. His nose presses against your clit, he groans into your flesh, eager to make you cum and yet he’s in no rush. He flicks his tongue over your clit before sucking it into his mouth like those candies you give him from the jar you keep on your kitchen counter.

“Dieter, fuck.” You can’t believe how decadent this is. It’s almost sinful, just letting him slowly lick into your pussy like he’s learning anatomy through his tongue. “Knew your mouth had to be- be good.” His eyes are fixated on you like this is something he loves, and maybe he does. You had just assumed he was more of a taker than a giver.

Your moans make his cock ache in his sweats but he doesn’t touch himself, too obsessed with how you sound, how you taste. His tongue lathes over your clit before it dives back into your cunt, his fingers squeezing your ass to encourage you to rock against him. It’s the most selfless he’s ever been with a lover and that tells him everything he needs to know. You mean something to him.

You whimper, loving how eager he is. Your hips rock, rolling onto his tongue and you moan out his name again while your fingers sink into the strands of his hair. You've always wanted to pull his hair, sometimes out of frustration, but right now it's to guide him to go deeper. To devour you. "Fuck, Diet." You moan, eyes fluttering as you look down at this Oscar winning actor on his knees for you.

He obeys, eager to please, and slides his tongue deeper inside of you. His nose smushed against your clit and he turns his head side to side. Wanting, no needing, you to cum. He moans into your cunt, his eyes closing and he reaches up with one hand to squeeze your tit, pinching your nipple.

Gasping, your knees nearly buckle as you start to cum. You feel pleasure course through your system and nearly overtake everything but the flames that are flashing through your entire body. "Dieter!" Your hand pulls on his hair as you ride the waves of pleasure.

He keeps you pressed against him, working you through your orgasm. His fingers dig deep into your flesh as he drinks you down, his tongue lapping up every drop of your cum that you offer him. His cock aches but he won’t ask for anything, just happy to have made you cum.

It takes you a moment to realize your soul hasn't left your body. Opening your eyes and letting go of his hair so you can cup his cheek. "Holy shit." You giggle, looking down at him in wonder. "That was- fuck, that was amazing." You pant, noticing his cock is straining against his sweats. "And it looks like you enjoyed it, but I'm sure you are ready for more."

Dieter blushes as he lowers your leg. “You don’t - I’m not expecting anything back. I just - I wanted to show you what you mean to me. I can go jerk off.” He offers, not wanting you to feel like he did this just for the reciprocation even though he desperately wants to feel you, all of you.

"Shut up and get your ass in my bed, Bravo." You roll your eyes at him and bite your lip in amusement at the way he scrambles to obey you. Obviously eager to get inside you, to be able to fuck you.

He stumbles to your bedroom, flinging the door open, and he pulls his t-shirt over his head, shoving his sweats down to expose his hard cock. He’s unashamed of his nudity, far too used to closed sets and sharing multiple lovers. He is happy with himself and that’s evident as he stands there naked, waiting for his next orders.

You can’t help but giggle at the proud stance he’s in. His hands on his hips with his cock jutting out. He still has one croc on his foot, and his expression is needy. You reach behind you and unhook your bra to fling it across the bedroom so you are nude as well. “Lay down on the bed.” You order him softly. “I’ve imagined riding your cock a hundred times and I’m going to cum all over it.”

Dieter doesn’t have to be told twice, he shifts to lay down on the bed, kicking off the lone croc and his cock rests on his lower stomach while he waits for you to make your move. “Condom?” He asks, almost breathless as his eyes devour your tits.

You bite your lip. You should, but you know that Dieter hasn’t slept with anyone since he’s been out of rehab and he is surprisingly clean of STDs. Plus you have always imagined feeling him without the barrier of a condom. “I’m on birth control.” You offer quietly. “If you want a condom, I’ve got one in my purse but-“

“Fuck no!” He blurts out. It’s been so long since he went raw, not since his short-lived marriage back when he was thirty to another actress that turned out to be lust and drugs and led to a messy divorce. She still doesn’t speak to him. It’s been too damn long since he hasn’t worn a condom and to be inside of you…fuck, it almost has him cumming now without even touching you. “Please baby. Use my cock. I want you to take what you need from me.”

You moan softly, watching his cock twitch and you can see the small dribble of pre-cum pool on his belly. “Fuck.” You kneel on the bed and you can’t help but duck your head down and run your tongue up the underside of his cock. 

Dieter yelps loudly and you giggle when you press your tongue to the slit. “Please baby, fuck me.” He begs, body tense as you show him some mercy and straddle his waist.

He watches you, in awe of your entire being, and he allows you the moment to grip his cock, slowly…so fucking slowly, you sink down onto his length. He hisses, hands raised and clenching his fists as he fights the urge to grab you. He wants to touch but this is about you.

Your head tilts back and you moan as he stretches you out. You had known he was thick, but there is a difference between seeing his cock and feeling him fill you up. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, ass flush against his thighs and you swivel your hips to grind down onto him. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”

“Can I touch you?” He asks, fingers twitching, and when you breathe out a “yes,” his hands are everywhere. He caresses your side, hands squeezing your tits until they rest on your hips, helping you rock on his cock. “Fuck. You feel - it’s better than any fucking drug.” He confesses, his entire body on fire from the feel of you and his heart pounds in his chest from emotion instead of coke.

You ride him slow, aware that he’s bigger than any of your toys. Closing your eyes as you grind down on him and then lift up to where his cock almost completely falls out of you. “You- you moved in just to fuck me.” You pant playfully. “Didn’t you? Still have your money too.”

Dieter snorts, his hands caressing your hips. “Oh yeah. I borrowed that twenty bucks from you yesterday for drug store deodorant and body wash because I love to mess around - shit - and make sure I got to fuck you. Fuck, you’re so wet.” He hisses when you sink back down onto him. You’re too good at this and it takes his breath away.

You smirk and lean down to press your lips to his. “Knew it.” You tease, pressing your breasts to his chest while you move up and down on his cock. He feels amazing and you wonder why the fuck you didn’t do this sooner. “At least you smell good.” You coo before you bite his chin.

He chuckles and presses his lips to yours for the first time, sliding his tongue into your mouth, and his hands caress your back before squeezing your ass. It’s languid and unlike the frantic fucks he has experienced in his active sex life. He isn’t in a rush to cum, content to let you seek your pleasure despite the need to fuck up into you and bury his cock deep. He pushes it aside and lets you ride him.

You’re kissing Dieter, you’re fucking Dieter. Dieter Fucking Bravo. The same man who drives you up a wall most days, whines and his brow flinches as he tries not to rock up into you. He’s trying to hold himself back. Pushing up slightly, you brace your hands on his chest, remembering how he had nearly died in that hotel in England. The reports were horrible and you hate that you hadn’t been there. It makes you bounce a little faster, reminding yourself that he’s here and for the moment, you have him.

He groans when you move a little harder and faster on his cock, his hands squeezing your waist and he shifts to sit up, taking your nipple into his mouth. He wants you to cum on his cock, to soak him. He sucks on your breast, his hands clinging to your back while you rock your hips onto his cock.

“Oh fuck, Deeeeee.” You whine when he bites down sharply, instantly soothing it with his tongue. It makes you squeeze him as you bounce on his cock, completely lost in the mind blowing reality that you are in bed with Dieter. “Gonna- gonna cum then I want- I want you to fuck me.” You pant breathlessly, throwing your head back so he can play with your tits easier. “Oh fuck.”

Dieter doesn’t refuse you, shifting you onto your back so he can start slamming his hips into you. The sounds in the room are absurd, skin slapping skin, moans and groans. Sweat beading on his neck as he grunts your name and demands you cum for him. “Please. Cum for me.” He whines, leaning down to take your nipple in his mouth again.

His plea, the scrape of his teeth and the perfect way that his cock shreds up into you triggers it. Practically screaming his name, you soak his cock in a torrent of your juices, the hardest orgasm you’ve had in forever.

Your cunt clamping down on his cock has him groaning your name and he works you through it with short, desperate thrusts of his hips. Your cries as he thrusts deep spur him on until his pace falters and he buries his cock deep, painting your walls with his cum. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shit.” He pants, his forehead resting on your sternum.

It’s silent as the two of you try to catch your breath. His cock twitching inside your still fluttering walls while neither one of you moves. Now you wonder what to say, what to do. Slowly your hands move down from his shoulders to his sweaty back, caressing it slowly as he snuggles into your neck, apparently not ready to pull out of you.

Dieter murmurs your name, in awe of you and how incredible you are. You’re his saviour and it’s clear as day that he’s in love with you. “I love you.” He coos, kissing along your neck to your jaw before he pulls back to look at you.

Now that you’ve slept together, you wonder how long that feeling will last. Dieter is…fickle for lack of a better word and you hate to think that it might just be the emotional neediness behind all of this. “I love you too.” The words are simple for you to say, you do love him. You’ve loved him for a long time. Even if you couldn’t stand him when he was at his worst. It was one of the reasons you had stuck by him for so long.

Dieter inhales sharply at your confession and he has tears in his eyes as he buries his face in your neck. He hasn’t heard those words in so long, especially when you actually mean them. He has been used for his fame and his money for as long as he can remember - even by his own parents - so to hear you say you love him when he is at his lowest, with no money and no fame. You love him for him. For the chaos he is and the selfish asshole he is. You love him and that makes him sob into your neck, muttering he loves you over and over again.

You shush him softly, stroking his hair and his back while he works through his emotions. Not shaming him for his tears or wanting him to stop, just providing comfort. Your own kisses to his hair are gentle and it’s probably the only time a man has cried after sex with you, but you understand why. “I love you too.” You promise him, loving how he holds you close.

Dieter eventually falls asleep after pulling out of you and flipping down on the bed beside you. You watch him for a while before you clean up and get yourself something to eat. He has exhausted himself emotionally but you know it’s not a bad thing, he’s processing. 

**** 

The next morning, Dieter wakes up to his phone ringing where you placed it on your dresser and he scrambles to answer it in case it’s a call back. He answers the phone with a groggy ‘hello’ and the producer who had been in charge at the audition he went to a few days ago is on the phone. 

“Dieter. Hi, it’s Harriet. Can you come in today? I want to do another call back.” Her voice is sickly sweet which makes Dieter frown for a moment but he is so excited to have a callback, that he smiles. 

“Absolutely. Let me know what time you want me in.” He responds eagerly. 

“One this afternoon. I want you to come to my personal office for the call back.” She says and Dieter pauses, “uh, sure.”

She continues, “for a personal callback. I’ve heard about your numerous oral skills and I would like to experience it. I loved you in Hunger Strike. Your first movie too with the sex scene…I want to recreate that.” She coos and Dieter feels sick. 

He knows how the industry works, especially for women, and it has been something he always fought again, but now, he’s on the receiving end and this is his chance to get back into Hollywood. He sighs, “um, okay. I’ll see you at one.” He tells her, his stomach feels like lead as he hangs up the phone.

You had woken up before Dieter and decided to go to the store. You wanted to make breakfast before you had to go to work. It was going to be a late night so your boss had told you to not even come in until around three. Something that you had wished Dieter had done sometimes. It didn’t matter though, you open the door with the bags on your arm. Right now, it just meant you could spend the morning with him.

Dieter stares at the phone for several moments until he hears the front door so he makes his way into the living room after grabbing his robe. "I, uh, I just had a call from the producer for that movie I auditioned for last week." He announces, crossing his arms as he watches you put the groceries away.

"What?" You stop with a carton of eggs in your hand and turn around with a happy grin on your face. "That's great, Dieter! I'm so proud of you, I knew you could find something that you wanted." It might not be exactly what he wanted but you also know that he's a fucking talented actor and could make one small opportunity into his big comeback. "When do you go in for your callback? Do you need a ride?"

He doesn't smile, lowering his arms from his chest. "It's, uh, more complicated than just going back to read the script. The producer....she wants me to, uh, she wants me to fuck her." He reveals, biting his lip, "she said she wants me to show her my oral skills and recreate the sex scene from my first movie."

Your own smile drops as you wait for him to tell you that he is turning down the call back. He doesn't. He just stands there waiting for you to say something. Your heart aches when you realize that everything last night was a lie. He couldn't love you, not the way that you needed him to. You don't share and Dieter Bravo is apparently willing to do anything to get back to his former status as a Hollywood star. "Congratulations." You offer flatly, turning to open the fridge so you can put the eggs inside. You're suddenly not hungry anymore.

Dieter lowers his arms, the guilt is overwhelming but this is his only chance to get back into acting. “I- I need to do this. It’s my only chance to get my life back. To get my money back. The FBI haven’t updated me and I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep mooching off of you until the day I die.”

“You’ll do what you need to do.” You had known Dieter was selfish, but this just proves that he’s not changed all that much. You take a deep breath. “You’re welcome to stay here until you get your money back, or you get paid.” You remind him before you finally turn around and meet his eyes. “But this….thing between us is over.” You decide. “I can’t be with you, with anyone, who is willing to sell his body to some producer for the chance at a starring role. 

Dieter stares at you, his heart breaking, and he feels his eyes prick. Of course you don’t want him. Last night was just a fluke. He wants to support you again, he has to do this so he isn’t relying on you. It’s not fair. He wants to pull his own weight and he finally has an opportunity. “I- I finally have a chance to get my life back and you…okay. Fine. Fuck this shit. I’m gonna go to the callback. I’m gonna be a major actor again and you can go on your date with fucking golden boy Charlie.” He growls, spinning on his heel and he storms into his bedroom, slamming the door as tears stinging his eyes.

You don’t know why you are surprised, but you are. Tears slide down your cheeks as you methodically put away the rest of the groceries and shuffle to your bedroom. You hear Dieter shuffling around in his room and you bite your lip as you try not to sob. Part of you wants to be petty and remind him to shower before he fucks someone else, but you can’t, you don’t want to see him. He wants his life back, his old life, the life where you were nothing but his assistant. You close your door softly and sink down to the floor and start to cry in earnest. 

**** 

“Welcome Mr. Bravo.” Cecilia, the producer coos as he walks into her office. He’s been anxious since he left the house. You haven’t spoken to him since that moment in the kitchen, locking yourself in your bedroom, and the guilt had gnawed at Dieter the rest of the morning. He had to use some concealer to cover up the puffy circles under his eyes. He offers the producer an Oscar winning smile and she shuts the door behind him and steps around him to lean against her desk. “You’ve got the role.” She announces. 

Dieter grins, “really? Wow. Thank you. I can’t believe it. Really-” 

She interrupts him but crosses her arms, “I didn’t finish, Dieter. You’ve got the role…but first, you gotta strip for me. I went to see your cock and then I want you to eat me out. Then I want to ride you.” She says like she’s ordering off a menu and Dieter is immediately uncomfortable. 

For a second, he considers it. It’s just sex. He’s never thought anything of sex. It’s just a way to get off but last night with you…it was unlike anything he’s experienced. He bites his lip and she looks at him expectedly. 

“Well?” She asks and he shakes his head. No career is worth ruining what he has with you. In fact, he’s found a new passion in painting and he will think about getting a new agency as an artist, not an actor. 

“No. I- I can’t.” He tells Cecilia who frowns, “you can’t? Then I can’t offer you the role.” She blackmails him but he doesn’t care. 

He backs away from her, thinking only of you and the heartbroken look you gave him. He can’t touch anyone else when you’ve stolen his heart. “Thanks but no thanks. Oh, and I’m gonna report you for sexual harassment.” He holds up his cell phone, using it for a rare moment to record the conservation he had with Cecilia. 

“No. I, uh, I can give you the role. Just - delete the recording.” 

Dieter shakes his head, finally knowing that acting is in his past. He smirks, “actually…there’s something you can do for me. My friend has a script. You’re gonna greenlight it for production, do whatever you can for it and I will delete the recording.” He offers and Cecilia nods, “fine.” 

Dieter grins, hitting pause on the new recording. “Pleasure doing business with you. I’ll have the script delivered tomorrow.” He smirks, “I’ll delete the recording after I see the contract.” With that, he spins on his heel and makes his way out of her office with his dignity and excited to give you the good news.

You had heard Dieter getting ready for his casting call this morning. Swallowing down the heartbreak, you had dragged yourself out of bed and headed to work. Quiet enough that your boss had asked you what was wrong, you had told him a little lie and claimed you had a migraine. Making you feel bad because he had insisted you go home. Where you are now, curled under your freshly changed sheets - you couldn’t sleep on them again - and try to pretend that you don’t know exactly what Dieter Bravo is doing right now.

Dieter rushes through the front door, his eyes wide with excitement and he calls out your name. When you don’t respond, he knocks on your bedroom door. He knows you’re here, he saw your car. He had Ubered to the studio and back so you are home. “Sweetheart. Can I come in?” He asks.

“Go away, Dieter.” You lift your head from your pillow and call out. “I’m happy for you but I can’t celebrate with you.” Tears fill your eyes and you want to scream at him for actually coming to you after he slept with someone to get a role. Was he really so self absorbed?

He opens the door, hearing your voice crack, and he’s concerned. “Baby. What’s wrong?” He rushes over, kneeling on the bed when he sees your tear filled eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He begs, cupping your cheeks

“Please.” You close your eyes and practically whimper as you turn your head away from him. “I know you’re excited, you're happy to be getting your life back - but- I can’t do this.” You choke out. “I can’t be happy that you told me you loved me and then fucked someone else.”

Dieter realizes what you think and he frantically shakes his head. "I didn't do it. I swear. I - I couldn't do it because she wasn't you. I didn't want to touch her. I turned down the role. I didn't want it if I had to do that and I don't - I decided I no longer want to be an actor. I want to be an artist. I want to paint."

It takes you a minute to process what he’s saying. Opening your eyes and turning back to him to blink in surprise. “Wha- you did?” You gasp. “You didn’t- you turned it down?” You halfway don’t believe it, knowing how much he wanted to go back to his former life. “I- really?”

He fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket, taking it out of the bag he puts it in that apparently blocks cellular waves from "his balls" and he presses play on the recording. He wants to prove to you that he's serious. He doesn't want that lifestyle anymore. He wants a home, he wants a family. He wants you.

Your jaw drops when you hear him tell the producer that he isn’t going to work with her. That he wants her to green light your script. “Dieter- I- is this for real? You’re blackmailing her for- for my script? You haven’t even read it.” You manage to get out.

He scoffs, "yes I have read it." He tells you to hold his phone and he rushes into his room, grabbing your script and he sets it down. He has been reading it at night, making notes, but it's brilliant and he knows this is your chance to make it big. "I won't be in Hollywood anymore but that doesn't mean you can't get your big break. Blackmail makes the world go round." He jokes, sitting on your bed and he sets the script in your lap.

“Dieter.” You reach out and touch the script’s cover, opening it up and seeing his loopy handwriting. “You- you’re going to leave acting behind?” You don’t understand, acting was Dieter’s entire life. It was all he had talked about since getting out of rehab.

He shrugs, “it’s no longer my passion. I’ve been, uh, painting outside while you’ve been at work and I have several pieces. I’m going to see if I can get an agent and get them displayed in a gallery. If fucking George Bush can do it, I’m sure I can.” He scoffs, “I - I want to show you a piece I just finished.” He bites his lip and shuffles off of the bed again. He walks into his bedroom to grab the canvas he painted of you, of how he sees you, and he carries it into your bedroom to display it.

You gasp, covering your mouth as you look at the canvas as he turns it around. He’s painted you and it’s….beautiful. You look almost angelic, the light in the eyes of the painting is bright and the smile loving. “Dieter- you painted this?” You ask in wonder, standing up and letting your script fall to the floor as you walk over to look closer at the canvas.

He nods, blushing at your tone, and he hopes you like it. “Uh, yeah. I, um, I just - I started it a couple of weeks after I moved in here and it’s - it’s how I see you.” He admits, his dark eyes meeting yours as you stand in front of him and he’s nervous, thinking you might hate it.

“It’s-“ Tears pool up in your eyes and start sliding down your cheeks again. “It’s so beautiful. I can’t- it’s so wonderful.” You tell him breathlessly, turning and reaching up to cup his cheek. “I can’t believe you see me like this.”

He flusters at your praise, happy you like it, and he leans into your touch. “I think you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever known. You are beautiful, yes, but so kind and I - you put me in my place and I need that. You see me. The real me. Not the movie star or the sugar daddy. You see Dieter Bravo and I’ll love you forever for that.” He vows, “this is my ode to the woman I love.”

You bite your lip and lunge forward, pressing your lips to his. He turned down the sex, the role for you. He turned his back on acting for you because you know that he’s burned a bridge now. Permanently. And he put himself on the line to make your Hollywood dreams come true. “I love you, Dieter.” You promise between kisses. 

He smiles, pulling back to set the canvas down before he grips your hips, pulling you flush against him. “I love you too baby. You’re gonna be amazing. A Hollywood screenwriter. That thing is Oscar worthy.” He gestures to your script before he presses his lips back to yours. “We could be an Oscar winning couple.” He jokes, kissing along your jaw.

You giggle, leaning into the fantasy for a moment. “I’ll bring you to all the red carpet events and you can be my arm candy.” You joke, knowing he do it in a heartbeat and be amazing. Dieter knows how to work a red carpet.

“Deal, baby. As long as you show me off.” He winks and reaches for you to lift you onto your bed. “Now, can I eat that pussy as a celebration for our new careers?” He hums, reaching for the waistband of your leggings but not doing anything until you say yes.

You shake your head, giggling at him and his eagerness. “Before you do, I need to tell  you something.” You lean forward and cup his cheeks with both hands. “I’m proud of you for not going through it. Not sleeping with her.” 

He blushes again at your praise, turning his head to kiss your palm. “I couldn't do it. Not when I kept thinking of you and how much I love you. It just - it wasn’t right and no matter what I would’ve gotten from it, it wasn’t worth losing you.” He hooks his fingers in your leggings, shifting out of your grip to pull them down. “Let me make you cum.” He pleads, almost whining, and he tosses your leggings aside after removing your shoes and he’s glad you weren’t wearing panties. He shifts to lay down between your thighs, his shoulders pushing them apart and he isn’t hesitant as he dives in to slide his tongue through your folds.

You moan softly, closing your eyes and loving how amazing that tongue is. Happy that he hadn’t used it on that producer today. “Dieter, fuck.” You whine. “Gonna keep that tongue for myself. No one else gets to have it.” You lift your legs and shift them up onto his shoulders while he settles between your thighs. 

He hums in appreciation and his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you spread so he can push his tongue deep inside of you. “Only yours.” He promises when he pulls back, smacking his lips, and he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Dieter-” you push back on his head and he whines, unwilling to move away from you but you push his head back again. “Let me- let me sit on your face so I can suck your cock.” You beg breathlessly. You hadn’t gotten to have him in your mouth and you wanted it. You want to hear him moan for you. 

“I am not going to turn that down.” He chuckles and then shifts onto his back beside you, fumbling to undo the pants he wore for the meeting and he shoves them down along with his briefs to expose his half hard cock. “Take a seat.” He pats his cheeks with a grin.

“Always wondered if this would shut you up.” You tease before you straddle his head and lower your hips to his mouth. Leaning forward so you can wrap your hand around his cock and pump him slowly while his tongue licks through your folds. “Oh fuck.” You whine, leaning in more to lick the tip of his cock. 

Dieter smacks your ass, pulling you further down onto his face to practically smother him and he groans at the heat of your skin. Your mouth is heaven, hot and wet, and he struggles to not thrust his hips when you reach out to wrap your fingers around him.

Moaning around his cock, you twist your wrist and try to take him all the way down your throat. Loving the gasping pant that he breathes into your cunt, and the eager way that he sucks your clit into his mouth. Humming, you pull off his cock to lick up and down the length. “Oh fuck, so good baby.” You moan before you take him back into your mouth. 

His hands are all over you, squeezing your ass, spreading your cheeks and he can’t help himself. He tilts his head so he can circle your puckered hole with his tongue, wanting to make you gasp his name.

You gasp out around his cock, pulling off of it. “Fuck, Dieter!” You cry out, eyes sliding closed and pinching tight in mortification of how good it feels. He chuckles as he flicks his tongue and you huff, sliding your hand down between his cheeks to press your own fingers against his hole while you suck on the tip of his cock. 

“Oh fuck!” He groans against your ass cheek, fucking loving how you know what he wants. What he likes, without even asking. He hisses your name and surges forward to lap at your puckered hole, pushing his tongue into you before his tongue slides down to push into your cunt, alternating between each hole and his hand shifts under you so he can rub your clit with his thumb.

You pull off his cock again, sliding your fingers into your mouth to wet them before his thighs shuffle apart even more. You press against the ring of muscles, feeling it push in before it finally gives way, letting you sink your finger into him a bare inch. Making sure that you take his cock all the way down to the back of your throat while you start to pump your fingers gently inside him. 

Dieter practically whines into your flesh. You’re blowing his mind and he fucking loves it. His hips buck unconsciously and he hisses your name when you push your fingers a little deeper. His tongue dives deep inside of you, his nose pressed against your ass and he wants, no needs, you to cum for him.

He’s being so good for you. Precum leaks into your mouth and you swallow it down eagerly. Rocking your hips back as much as you can while you curl your fingers up and listen to him keen into your folds. Giving him the sloppiest blow job of his life and one or two licks away from soaking his face in your cum.

He is feral, bucking up into your mouth while he sucks on your folds, his tongue dipping back into you and his thumb frantically rubs your clit. He’s so close but he needs you to cum first. He needs to hear you cum.

Your keening sound of pleasure is muffled around his cock, jaw slack as you push your hips back into his face and buck back onto his tongue. Cumming in a wave of pleasure, and squeezing his head between your thighs.

Dieter growls into your cunt, lapping up every drop you have to offer him until you take him deep down your throat, your fingers pushing deep inside of him, and it sends him over the edge. He cries into your pussy, his cock throbbing as he starts to cum down your throat.

You gulp him down as fast as you can, loving the way that he throbs in your mouth and whines when you curl your fingers up. Working him until every drop of his cum is swallowed down and you pull off his cock with a very satisfied gasp.

Dieter pants, shaking hands gripping you to try and turn you around to bring you into his chest. When you get the hint, he pulls you close and presses his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth. "I fucking love you." He groans, pulling back for a moment.

“I love you too.” You whisper softly, reaching up and caressing his cheek. “You are going to be a great artist, you are a great artist.” You murmur proudly. “And we’re going to make sure you are happy.”

Dieter smiles at you and winks. “You’re going to be happy too, you get to have me.” That makes you giggle and lean forward to press your lips to his. You do get to have him, in all his chaotic glory. 

**** 

“Dieter! Diana, I’m home!” You rush through the door, depositing your keys and purse and laptop bag on the entryway table and kick off your shoes as you try to shed the day as quickly as possible. You’re late and even though you let him know you would be, you hate missing a second of your time at home. “Diet? Di?” You call, wondering where they are in the labyrinth you call a house, bigger than the one Dieter originally had. “Are you home?”

When you walk into the kitchen, Diana immediately rushes over to you. “Mama!” She cheers, clinging to your legs, and Dieter chuckles as he finishes the stroke on the canvas. He’s been teaching his daughter how to paint while the dinner cooks in the oven, but you are home now so he sets the brush down. 

“Hey sexy mama.” He winks at you, standing up to stride over to press his lips to yours, his tongue dips into your mouth but nothing too X rated since Diana is squashed between you. “Long day at work?” He asks, kissing your jaw before he pulls back and looks down at his daughter.

You roll your eyes and nod. “Yeah, re-writes.” You huff. “The lead decided he was a better writer than me so they wanted me to rework the lines the way he wanted but then they didn’t fit, like I told them they wouldn’t.” The script that Dieter had blackmailed the producer into green lighting had been a blockbuster and now you have become a very popular name among studios.

"Fuck him." Dieter scoffs and Diana looks up at her father. 

"Daddy! Bad words!" She reprimands, making him playfully roll his eyes. 

"Sorry, baby girl. Daddy is gonna put a quarter in the jar." Dieter had promised Diana a new dollhouse with the money saved from the 'bad word jar' and Dieter's quarters have added up. "Dinner will be ready in a minute." Dieter tells you after he places a coin in the jar and he pours you a glass of wine. He's become quite the cook, making all sorts of dishes to an almost expertise level. "My agent called. Someone wants to buy the painting before I even finish it." He announces, pulling the lasagna out of the oven.

“Baby, that’s great!” You come over and kiss Dieter’s cheek so you don’t make him drop the lasagna. When you had gotten pregnant, Dieter had decided that he wanted to stay home, be a stay-at-home dad. Arguing that his little girl shouldn’t have to have a nanny all the time and he could paint around her schedule. You had fallen in love with him even more when you saw how committed he was to your daughter and the life you are creating, although he still lets a housekeeper come in and scrub the toilets. “That makes the fifth painting sold this year!”

Dieter blushes, proud of himself, and he sets the dish down, dishing out three servings and he sets the plates down at the kitchen table. "Dinner, baby girl." He tells Diana and he places his wine glass down as well as the glass of juice for Diana. He looks at you as you sit down and he feels a sudden rush of happiness. He never imagined he'd get to have a life like this. He was lost in the drugs and depression and anxiety but he's happy now, sober, and living a life he never imagined he could have. 

He lifts his glass up towards you, "to a beautiful life." You grin, understanding what he means when you clink your glass against his. Diana moans, holding up her own glass and Dieter chuckles, clinking his glass against hers before you follow suit. He has everything he never knew he wanted and he wouldn't change it for the world...especially not for an acting career.

[logically-asexual]

I’m losing by his side

summary:

Nathalie meets Betterfly! they have a long conversation and she deals with some conflicting emotions.

Title from I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski

word count: 4,510

Read on AO3

Nathalie wasn’t asleep yet, but she was still annoyed by the noise of her phone ringing. Whatever Gabriel wanted at this time of the night, or rather, morning, could wait until after the sun had come out, or he could forget about it. She hung up before resuming her reading. At least she tried to do so, but as much as she stared at the text on the pages, she couldn’t process any meaning from it.

Her last hope for enjoying the last few hours of the night by herself was soon vanished by the man himself barging into her bedroom. It was true that she wasn’t in the mood to see Gabriel, but the fact that it was Monarch standing now in her room wasn’t at all better. He must have been enraged to stomp through the house without even reversing the transformation. At least he didn’t forget to close the door of her bedroom and forced her to get up and stumble over there to do it herself. Hopefully Adrien didn’t see anything.

He interrupted before she could voice any question or complaint, demanding to know why she hadn’t answered his calls. So keeping this form was intentional, Nathalie thought. He wanted to scare her. Unfortunately for him she had never fallen for that, and now wouldn’t be any different.

“Sir, it’s the middle of the night. Why can’t you just let me rest?”

She knew he had been down with Emilie since earlier, after Nathalie had arrived home from the train and came upstairs. He had said he would see if he could get something useful out of the kwamis, but she could guess now by his apparent frustration that he didn’t.

“This is important, Nathalie. Some miraculous holders from a parallel universe crossed a portal here and they—“

Nathalie was convinced he was losing his mind. “I don’t want to hear about it, Gabriel!”

“Well you could at least answer your phone so I know you’re alive!”

Oh, so now he was pretending it was just concern for her health, but she knew the truth. She knew that if he really cared about her he would have fixed everything when he had the chance.

“I already told you I’m fine. I don’t need your help and I’m not helping you with this either.” She ignored the irony of her saying that while still reclined on the bed, too weak to stand up so she could at least face him closer to eye level.

“Nathalie, you have to understand—“

“No, you’re wrong. You betrayed me, Gabriel, you betrayed Emilie and all for—“

“How dare you.” Gone was the bargaining phase as rage overtook his expression again. “You know everything I’ve done is for her, you’ll take that back.”

“No.”

“No?” He raised an eyebrow and dropped the pitch of his voice even further. The calm but threatening tone admittedly made Nathalie more nervous than his explosive anger before, but she stayed firm.

“I said no.”

“It seems you have forgotten your place, Ms Sancoeur. I tell you what to do,” he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him, forcing her to keep eye contact, “and then you do it.” With his free hand, he slammed his fist into her bedside table, which caused the lamp and a vase to fall and shatter on the floor. “Do you understand?” he yelled.

The noise made her flinch, but she looked up again when another crash came from her window. A superhero she hadn’t seen before was standing in her room. He was dressed in a light purple suit with a matching cape and mask.

“Let go of her!” the man ordered and pointed at Monarch with his cane.

“I don’t have time for this,” Monarch groaned, but he pulled away. He turned his head at the door with the restlessness that characterized the recognition of a negative emotion somewhere.

Before Monarch could call the transformation for any of the other kwamis or otherwise make a move, the superhero moved quickly to kick him in the stomach. Then, while he gasped for air, the man took Nathalie in his arms and jumped with her back out the window.

Everything happened so fast, she was barely beginning to process it when he was helping her sit down on a bench. There was something familiar in the position of his hands around her and in the way he knelt in front of her afterwards.

“Sorry,” he said, “I was in the middle of something else when I heard a crash and I had to step in when I saw it was a villain. Are you ok?”

Nathalie heard the question, but her focus was elsewhere. “You have the butterfly miraculous.”

He seemed a little surprised that that was what had her attention. “I do.”

“But— But that’s impossible.”

“I should introduce myself,” his voice was impossibly calm, compared to her own uneasiness. “I am Betterfly. I am the holder of the butterfly miraculous in a different universe than yours. It’s a pleasure.”

He smiled at her, then he took Nathalie’s hand and kissed it the same way Gabriel did when he met a woman he respected. She felt embarrassed at the action, since she certainly didn’t consider herself on the same rank as them.

“I came here through a portal to seek help from your Ladybug and Cat Noir. We’re currently trying to track their iterations from my universe, who followed me here, but we seem to have lost them.”

He looked around, as if searching for clues, but the city was dead quiet. They were in a park, she only now noticed, and the only sound came from the leaves shifting with the wind.

Nathalie took a moment to take it all in. Apparently Monarch had been right about the parallel universe. After everything they had been through the past year, she guessed this wasn’t that unbelievable.

She looked closely at Betterfly. The resemblance to Hawk Moth’s costume was clear, but every edge was rounder and every color lighter. The smaller mask letting strands of silver hair move freely with the breeze also added to the gentleness of his appearance. And his eyes… Nathalie couldn’t hold his gaze for long because the look in them was just… overwhelming.

“You’re one of them? The heroes?” was all she could come up with.

Now he was the one who looked embarrassed. “I guess you could say that. I’m just one man trying to do what I think is best.” He smiled again.

She knew that smile, but she had never seen it so often. Not since Emilie… was gone.

If they were parallel universes, this one and wherever he came from, and both butterfly holders were already opposite in their roles, could they be similar in other ways?

Examining his face, she let her curiosity win and asked, “Gabriel?”

Betterfly’s eyes widened slightly before he turned away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten off topic. Are you sure you’re alright? Is there anything I can do?”

His reaction was confirmation enough that Nathalie was right, yet this just opened so many more questions.

“I’m fine,” she answered. “I just have some… communication issues.”

He moved to sit down on the bench next to her. She was thankful for that, but it still gave her the impression of some sort of therapy session starting.

“Was that Gabriel Agreste’s house, the designer?”

She would indulge his pretense that the disguise was still working, if it made conversing easier for him. She nodded and clarified that she was his executive assistant.

“And you live there?”

The arrangement looked weird to outsiders, she was aware of that, but it was necessary for her to be able to do everything her job involved, including the parts of it that weren’t public, which only made it sound worse. At least now she could blame it on her disability, that her life was easier without a daily commute. She should move out soon, now that she could walk by herself with the help of the device, but she couldn’t leave Adrien and, well, most of the memories of her adult life behind just like that.

“I do,” she simply stated. “Mr. Agreste’s workplace is there so that’s where I work as well.” Eager to shift the attention away from her living situation, she asked, “Is that not my job in your world?”

Betterfly looked down at the ground with what Nathalie could identify as remorse. “From what I can tell, Gabriel and you don’t really… talk much.”

Nathalie wondered what the story behind that could be. Had he also hurt Nathalie but at least had the decency to regret it? Her Gabriel only felt guilty about one thing, and he would probably betray her trust in him a hundred times over if he had to.

Her expression might have given away some of her anger, because the superhero now also seemed curious about her relationship with her boss.

“Do you, um…”

Before he could figure out how to formulate the question, she interrupted him. “We don’t talk much anymore either.”

A slight disappointment in his face somehow felt like a heavy weight pressing against her lungs. The way his open eyes were like invitations for her to look deep into his mind made her uncomfortable. She had gotten used to reading Gabriel’s thoughts through the subtlest movement of his wrinkles, not to have them exposed for anyone to see. It was a skill she had developed through the years, and yet her boss kept surprising her.

What if her own Gabriel did share this one’s emotions, and just didn’t show it? Was that too hopeful to think? It probably was. Either way it was clear that he was hurting now worse than ever before and still wished she could help him.

“Mr. Agreste has just been going through a lot since… well, ever since his wife…”

“Passed.”

“Disappeared,” she automatically corrected.

Now he was the one with a knowing look, trying to express that he could see through her denial.

Maybe he was right to accept it. During that phone call earlier, when Gabriel told her he lost the pocket watch, it felt not only like losing Emilie all over again, but like this time she was gone for real. It would be harder to keep up the pretense after that, no matter what Gabriel would say. However, Nathalie wasn’t sure she was ready to grieve, not all alone like this.

As she thought about Emilie the heavy sensation on her chest expanded upwards, now forming a knot on her throat. Liquid was also starting to gather in the corners of her eyes. Betterfly took a handkerchief out from his suit and offered it to her. She took it, but kept it in her fist while she tried to pull herself back together.

“What about Monarch?” Betterfly kindly attempted to change the topic. “Do you know him? I know that the holder of my miraculous here doesn’t have the best intentions. Are you sure you’re not in any kind of danger?”

Probably not any more than the fact that her days were already counted, but she didn’t want to worry this poor guy with that.

Normally Nathalie would be defensive with an interrogation like this, but after seeing what he saw, she understood that he could be concerned. It must be a shock to find that the same power that you wield could be used for completely different purposes, especially if they go against your own values.

Or maybe they didn’t. Nathalie didn’t know this Gabriel well yet, but were the same person, after all, only… shaped by different circumstances.

The question then pricked her brain. Did he know they were the same person? He had no reason to know, unless he assumed that was the case the same way Nathalie did. Would he even want to know?

“Monarch…” she sighed. “Like I said, he’s going through a lot.”

Her admission was clear enough, going by the way his eyes widened and his sharp intake of air. The reaction didn’t go further than that, and considering how expressive this man had been until now, she assumed his surprise wasn’t too strong. Maybe he had suspected it and just needed confirmation.

Nathalie didn’t want to get into Gabriel’s criminal actions and his motivations, or her own as his partner, so before Betterfly could ask any questions she spoke.

“You seem happy, though.”

He definitely smiles more. Still, earlier he couldn’t have just guessed Emilie was dead here out of nowhere. He must have known because she died there, too. If so, how were the circumstances different in order to produce such different results?

A shadow forming over his eyes contradicted her. “Not everything is great where I come from. In fact, I find your world to be quite lovely. Your heroes are strong and kind, and they have the support of the people. From what Ladybug told me, before they were stolen, the miraculous’ power was shared with others and used for the greater good!”

Very different results, indeed.

“Back home,” he continued, “there’s an entity that hoards all the power of the miraculous, which is kept secret from most of the population. I’m trying the best I can to stop him, but I’m all alone. I’ve also made a lot of mistakes which I’m not proud of, but I find peace knowing that I’m fighting for what I believe is right. All I have is the hope that we can build a better world for everyone. I have to hold on to it.”

“I wish I was strong enough to do the same,” she confessed. “It’s tough to maintain hope when all seems lost.”

“I didn’t say it was easy. I struggled a lot at first. I felt like I was drowning and nothing could bring me to the surface. Trying to swim would only make it worse. Then I realized that the only way out was through, and that if I wasn’t the one to step up then… no one else would.”

Ladybug and Cat Noir were already fighting Monarch. It was their job, not Nathalie’s, but… Despite not having yet lost their miraculous, they also hadn’t defeated Monarch. Recently Nathalie wondered sometimes if she should do something, if she would be the one to make a difference. But she couldn’t bring herself to do anything. She didn’t want Adrien to lose his father and a part of her didn’t want to lose Gabriel, either.

Besides, her lack of success with Hawk Moth showed that any attempt from her at supporting the other party would definitely end in disappointment.

“What if it’s not that simple? What if you just keep failing?”

“You know… It’s been a while but the Nathalie I knew never gave up. No task ever seemed impossible in her hands.”

Her cheeks felt suddenly too warm against the cold night air. His expression lightened back up at her blush. She would have liked to mirror him, but she still didn’t feel well enough.

“What if the task is fighting against the fabric of the universe?”

“Well, then… maybe it’s just as brave to know when to change targets.” He put his hand on top of hers, which was resting on her lap. “After losing my wife I realized that my motivation couldn’t be a desire for revenge or to bring her back. I needed to focus on what I really needed, and what would ultimately do good.”

Nathalie had thought at the beginning that what they were doing was for the best. Emilie was good for her family, for the world. She was kind and loving. She was an inspiration, not only for Nathalie and Gabriel but for anyone who met her. It would certainly have been good for Adrien if they had been able to stop the illness before… before it killed her.

“How can you know for sure what that is?”

“I can’t, but I know it’s not what The Supreme is doing; hoarding the miraculous, hiding them from the world, enslaving the kwamis, and forcing innocent people into a battle that isn’t theirs. People who do know about his abuse are too afraid to face him, but I have faith that with my power I can change their minds, so we can all build a better world together.”

Everything seemed a lot more intense in the other universe. Monarch did hoard miraculous and terrorize a city but it had started with a simple goal. The wish wasn’t supposed to directly affect anyone’s lives except from avoiding the ruin of his and his son’s. Now his goal was even more inconsequential, ridiculous even, since he was obsessed with a vendetta against two random teenagers. Of course stopping this whole fiasco would be good, but in the end all Nathalie wanted was to have a normal life again.

“I don’t have such big aspirations.” She had never been an outstanding person, after all. “I guess all I want is to be able to help the people around me be happy again, even if it’s not the most heroic thing to do.”

“I disagree.”

His hand above her tightened a little, reminding her of its presence. Hesitantly, she turned her hand around, so they could hold each other.

“I wish I was better at that.” His eyes were overcome by that sadness that Nathalie knew well enough. “While I do all this, I know I’ve been missing out on my son’s life. I mean, I do try to get close to him but I just don’t know how to. I can tell he’s struggling and I’m sure after all this is over things will be better for him. But in the meantime…”

He trailed off. Nathalie didn’t know how to fill the space, but she couldn’t stand to see him in pain. Adrien seemed to trust her, but she couldn’t figure out why. She had never been good with kids, not even when she was their age.

The only advice she could offer was, “Perhaps all he needs is to be sure that you’re there for him, that he can rely on your support whenever he needs it. If you make that clear then he’ll come to you on his own.”

His eyebrows lifted up along with his head and he said “You’re right!” in a way that was so identical to Adrien whenever she offered him her input that it was almost funny to watch. “It’s always nice to know there’s someone you can rely on.” Then, a little quieter, he added, “I assume that’s how Gabriel feels about you. I hope he knows how to appreciate it.”

Her face dropped again. “I don’t know. I’ve been wondering if it’s all really worth it. I didn’t mind helping him at first but now that he’s so… focused on his goal, he—“

The tears she thought had been gone returned to flood her eyes as she struggled with her words. He had hurt Nathalie. He lifted her hopes up only to then let her fall to greater depths. He accepted her affection only to push her away afterwards. He looked at her like she was the world and then pretended she was invisible. She had thought the contradictions were only due to the fact that she was her and not Emilie, which she could understand. But now he had betrayed Emilie, too. What did it all mean then? What was all this for? Most importantly, why did it still hurt?

Her hand was moved towards him, now enveloped in both of his. The soothing motion of his thumb over her skin didn’t distract her enough. In fact, it only seemed to encourage the need to cry further.

“I can understand that,” he said. “Sometimes we hold on to people or ideas too strongly for our own good, and we lose sight of other chances.”

“Other chances?”

“Right.”

“Like what?”

She hadn’t realized that there were now tracks of tears on her face, until his gloved hand came up to wipe them away. As he did so, his face also moved closer to hers. While the unreserved affection in his eyes was still overwhelming, this close she found herself captured by it, unable to look away.

“Like what is right in front of you,” he whispered.

Almost unconsciously she was also leaning in, enjoying the warmth she could begin to feel coming from him. Their foreheads touched, and she closed her eyes to savor the moment.

Just as she felt ready to cross the remaining distance, the sudden ringing of her phone made both of them jump apart.

She blinked a couple times as she came back to herself, taking in her surroundings and trying to perceive more than just the drumming of her heart. She finally pulled the phone out of her pocket.

It was Gabriel.

Without thinking, she hung up, then put the device away again.

As she stared towards the trees, the significance of what just happened downed on her like a bucket of cold water being dropped over her head.

Nathalie was the one losing her mind, actually. She leaned down and hid her face between her hands. “What am I doing?” she muttered to herself, “This is a dream, or a hallucination. Emilie never mentioned those but they must be a symptom, or I’m simply losing it, I—“

The other Gabriel began reaching for her but she quickly stood up. The rush of adrenaline that allowed her to do so wouldn’t be enough to let her walk back to the house, though. But she would find a way.

“I have to go.”

“Wait.” He stood, too, and she took a step back away from him.

“I have to make sure Monarch doesn’t do anything stupid.” If she remembered the start of all this correctly, Monarch had to be out there not only with Ladybug and Cat Noir, but with the versions of the heroes from the other universe, too.

“You don’t have to go yet,” Betterfly insisted. “You don’t have to help Monarch, either.”

“No, I have to.”

The look on his face made Nathalie feel guilty about leaving him, but she had no choice. She had to remind herself that he wasn’t her boss. She had only just met him.

He and Gabriel had Emilie’s death in common, but according to what he had expressed Nathalie wasn’t in the other’s life. What if that had been what made the difference? What if this had all been Nathalie’s fault?

She offered her help to track the miraculous of creation and destruction as soon as they figured that the wish was Emilie’s only hope. She enabled Gabriel’s decisions even when she disagreed with them, even when she knew Emilie would disagree with them. She promised she would make Gabriel happy again, but now she had failed both of them. If she let Gabriel get caught or if she didn’t stop him from falling into madness, either way she would be failing them, and Adrien, too.

She couldn’t continue being an accomplice, but she still had to do something, if anything, to make up for all her mistakes.

“I owe it to him. I have part of the blame and I can’t just abandon him, I—“

Her hands tightened around the handkerchief and she noticed how Betterfly’s worried expression softened into some kind of understanding.

“You love him,” he completed for her.

Her body suddenly felt weak again, too weak to hold back the sobs she had been trying to avoid since the moment Gabriel had told her he lost the time miraculous, ever since the moment Emilie had said goodbye.

She didn’t even think of wiping off her makeup before letting herself be pulled into Betterfly’s arms. It was a magical suit, surely the stains wouldn’t be a problem.

His embrace protected her from the cold outside. His hands comforted her on her back and her head, their easing motions working against her shaking.

Despite everything, she still loved Gabriel Agreste. Her Gabriel Agreste, the one she had gone through everything with, the one who struggled to express his gratitude for her but still found ways to do it. The man who could both control chaos in a runway’s backstage as well as unleash it across Paris with the snap of his fingers, the one who had built an entire empire for his family and who would tear it down piece by piece for them, too.

He was misguided, he was in over his head, but he was still the man she owed everything to, the man she promised to stick with until the very end. That didn’t have to mean doing everything he wanted for him; she would find a way to bring him back to the right track.

After all, the owner of the shoulder she was weeping into was living proof that it was possible.

Still sniffling, she pulled away from him to look at his face, to seal it in her mind and convince herself that it was real. Even if she didn’t necessarily want her own Gabriel to become this one, she wanted to know that he could genuinely smile again.

“Nathalie.” He hadn’t let go of her yet, “you have to have hope. A better world is possible.”

She nodded, she believed him.

The ground shaking and the sound of an explosion brought their attention back to their surroundings.

“I should go,” the hero said.

Nathalie nodded again. She also had to make sure that Gabriel was alright, and that Monarch wouldn’t do anything too stupid. From a distance, of course.

Her knees buckled when she tried to take a step, but Betterfly caught her before she could fall. He looked at her with concern.

“It’s a long story, but I’ll be fine.”

He seemed to accept her lie. Without thinking twice he lifted her up once again and jumped across the city, until they were back in her bedroom. He entered through —and shattered— a second window, then helped her sit down at the end of her bed and stayed crouching to be at eye level.

“Goodbye, Gabriel,” she said.

He brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. “Goodbye, Nathalie.”

The Gabriel she knew inopportunely slammed her doors open for the second time tonight. “Nathalie! You’re back.”

He locked eyes with Betterfly for a second, before the latter flew out of the house.

Gabriel rushed to occupy the same position his twin had been in. “Who was that? Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

Maybe Nathalie was still shaken by her encounter, but as Gabriel looked at her with worry, she could spot a faint, though distinct, softness in his gaze. Through it she could see a future content version of him, one that had finally found peace.

It had to be possible, she had to have hope that it was. Eventually, she told herself, she would figure it out.

[brienneoftarth1989]

Yes Captain part 6

Captain Phasma x fem reader

Previous / Next / Series

Summary: You and Phasma get paired together to go out on a mission however you both end up stranded due to an error with the aircraft which you got injured by. Phasma finally confesses to you how she feels but is she too late?

Warnings: graphic injury, near death?, aircraft crash

Requests open

———————————

You made your way to Supreme Leader Snoke’s office and you weren’t impressed by the scene you entered in on. Snoke sat at his desk looking as annoyed as ever and in the chair opposite him was Phasma who had her back to you.

You really couldn’t be bothered to deal with them today and you had no idea why you had both been called to Snoke’s office. Were you in trouble? Does he know what happened between the two of you? Well you were about to find out.

You sat down next to Phasma in the chair next to her and waited for Snoke to say something. “So I’m sure you’re both wondering why I have called you in here today. We have had a new aircraft designed and I want the two of you to take it out on a test run” he said sternly as he grasped his hands together.

“Why us though?” You asked Snoke wondering why the two of you out of all people had to do this. “Because you y/n are my best mechanic which means that if anything were to go wrong I know you can fix it and Phasma I’m sending you because you are the best stormtrooper I have. I thought you both would be honoured that I had selected you both. Clearly I was wrong” he said leaning back into his chair, looking annoyed at the both of you.

“No! I am honoured, I really am. I guess I just wasn’t expecting to be called upon that’s all. We will head down to the aircraft now and set off. We will let you know how it runs when we arrive back at the flagship” you said quickly before standing up and leaving the room.

You couldn’t be bothered to wait for Phasma so you quickly stormed out of the room and headed down to the landing strip hoping to find the new aircraft. As you were walking down you decided to look to see if Phasma was behind you. She wasn’t. Would she even decide to come? You really couldn’t care to be honest.

As you finally arrived at the landing strip you could see the new aircraft standing to the side of the runway. It was beautiful. It was a small slick aircraft and you knew at first glance that it would have some power behind it. You walked up to the aircraft and just admired its beauty.

Ok first you needed to do safety checks. Once they were done you would be ready to set off. Hopefully Phasma has decided that she doesn’t want to come and won’t bother showing up. You made your way around the aircraft carrying out the usual safety checks you would do before every flight.

Once you knew everything was in order you got changed into your flight uniform. Once you knew you were ready you looked around for Phasma but still couldn’t see her around at all. Was she even going to show up? At this point you didn’t really care.

You opened up the door of the aircraft and waited for the stairs to come down. When they had finally descended you climbed up the steps and made your way to the cockpit. The controls looked the same as most of the other aircrafts so you knew that it would be fairly easy to fly. You then did your internal safety checks.

That didn’t take long and the only person you were waiting for now was Phasma. You got up from your seat and went to the door to exit the aircraft. As you were about to get down and look for Phasma you could finally see her walking towards the aircraft kitted out in her armour.

You were annoyed at yourself finding the scene unfolding in front of you hot as fuck. The last thing you wanted to think about was her but how could you when she looked like that. You decided you didn’t want to get caught staring so you made your way back to the cockpit and sat down in the pilot seat.

Phasma didn’t take long to board the aircraft and she was not impressed that you were sitting in ‘her’ seat. “Move” she growled at you. “Why? I am the one who knows more about aircrafts” you snapped back at Phasma as you looked at her clearly annoyed. “I don’t care! I am your superior so move!” She shouted at you.

You got up and moved into the co-pilot seat as you really couldn’t be dealing with Phasma and her foul mood. You knew that if you tried to intervene she would snap at you so you just sat back and let her do all the work. She started up the aircraft and made her way over to the runway.

Within a blink of an eye you were travelling at full speed and were taking off into the dark empty void in front of you. As Phasma flew the aircraft you both just ended up in silence. It was awkward and you could cut the tension with a knife. You didn’t really know what to say and even if you did say anything there was a good chance that she would snap at you anyway.

So you did the one thing you could do, absolutely nothing. She didn’t want your help so what was the point in trying to give it to her. So you sat back in your seat and enjoyed the view in front of you as Phasma flew around the void of space. You watched as you flew past planet after planet. You were getting bored though and was wondering when you would be heading back to the flagship.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to ask, the siren in the cockpit started blaring at you both. You both looked at one another in complete panic wondering what the hell was going on. “The aircraft is malfunctioning! I’ve lost control” Phasma shouted at you as you quickly sat up trying to help gain control over the aircraft again.

You started pressing a load of buttons that would normally help gain control of the aircraft but nothing was working. “Fuck sake! Did you not do safety checks before we left y/n?” Phasma screamed at you. “Why am I getting the blame! If you had come down with me at the same time you would have seen me carry safety checks inside and out. I am not incompetent! Why would I put us at risk to spite you!” you practically screamed back at Phasma.

She was taken aback by your sudden outburst but the only thing you could both think about at that moment was trying to safely land this aircraft. As the aircraft was hurtling through space you saw another planet coming into view. “There! We need to try and get into that planet's gravitational field. Hopefully we might be able to crash land there before getting help” you pointed out to Phasma.

“Try and help me guide the aircraft towards that planet” she said as she grabbed the control column. You did the same as you both tried your hardest to get the aircraft to go in the right direction. It was definitely tough but as you were both working together you finally managed to control the aircraft for a brief minute.

That didn’t last long however. Once you managed to get the aircraft on the right course you both lost complete control of the aircraft once again. The only thing you both could do now was let gravity take control of the aircraft and pray that you would both make it out alive. You were crash landing and there was always the possibility that one or both of you wouldn’t survive.

You both just looked at one another. You were panicking and Phasma wasn't showing any emotion. You couldn’t even tell if she was scared or not. “We are gonna be fine. I’ve crash landed loads of times and I’m still here” she said . You couldn’t tell if she was trying to comfort you or not.

Either way it wasn’t making you feel much better. The planet was starting to get closer and closer which meant gravity was finally taking over the aircraft. As the aircraft hurtled towards the unknown planet fire started to surround the nose of the ship confirming you were now entering the planet's atmosphere.

That’s when the sirens got louder telling you both to pull up. All you could was grip your chair for dear life and pray that you would both make it out alive. You didn’t want to die and you especially didn’t want to die with Phasma why you were both still angry at each other. It felt like you were waiting forever for the aircraft to hit the ground.

It was only about a minute before the aircraft finally collided with the ground. You gripped the chair for dear life praying for this all to be over. All you could do is close your eyes and wait. You felt the whole aircraft shake before then having pain hurtle through your body and then everything around you stopped.

You were in so much pain and you didn’t want to open your eyes. You didn’t want to think about whether Phasma was hurt and you definitely didn’t want to look to see what was causing you pain. You just felt this huge pressure against your body and pain. Lots of pain.

“Fuck! Y/n are you ok?” Phasma screamed at you. That’s what caused you to open your eyes immediately. You looked at Phasma who seemed to be fine. Her armour protected her from the worst of it. You watched as she unbuckled herself from her chair and made her way over to you.

She placed her hand on your cheek to comfort you which caused you to hiss in pain. You finally decided to look down to see the extent of the damage. One of your legs had snapped and was facing the wrong way completely and you were being crushed by a tree that had smashed into the front of the aircraft.

As you took a closer look you realised that one of the sharp branches has embedded itself in the top of your thigh. You were in shock. You looked at Phasma who didn’t know how to react. “Hey look at me, stay with me. It’s going to be alright. We are going to get out of here. Just stay with me” she begged as you watched her take off her helmet.

She was crying which caused you to start crying as well. You weren’t ready to die. Not yet. You still had so much to live for but with the extent of your injuries and the lack of communication you didn’t have any hope that you would be getting out alive.

All you could do is sit back in the chair and steady your breathing. Phasma quickly stood up and started to pace around the ship hoping she could find some way to communicate with her crew back on the flagship.

After rummaging around she finally found a radio which meant she would be able to communicate with someone to try and get you both help. “Mayday! Mayday! This is Captain Phasma! We have gone down! I repeat we have gone down! We need backup asap! Please y/n is in critical condition!” She shouted down the radio.

You managed to hear some muffled response but you were in too much pain to even focus on what Phasma and the other person were talking about. “Don’t worry y/n help is on the way. Just hold on it’s going to be alright” she said to you as she gripped your hand tightly trying her best to comfort you.

You looked down at your leg and there was blood everywhere. You then looked up at Phasma and gave her a worried look. “I don’t think I’m going to make it” you managed to whisper. “Don’t you dare say that y/n. You are going to make it. They won’t be long and we are both going to make it” she said to you confidently but you could tell she was just as worried.

“I’m losing too much blood. I will be amazed if I make it out of here alive. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for these last few weeks. The last thing I want to think about when I think of you is how angry I was at you. I loved every minute with you” you whimpered as you felt tears start streaming down your face.

You were feeling faint now and you had no idea how much longer it would be before you took your last breath. “I should be the one apologising to you! I used you and then pretended that you didn’t exist. The truth is y/n is that I love you! I’m not one that deals with big feelings and when they tend to pop up I ignore it. I thought if I ignored you then the feelings would go away but they didn’t. I felt things for you even before the training sessions and now I fear I’ve left it too late! Please don’t leave me y/n, I love you so much and I’m not ready to spend my life without you” Phasma cried out.

You wanted to respond but the whole world went black!

[theoldwest]

🌲Man in the Wilderness 🌲 (ch. 1)

cw: mentions of drugs, sex, and two fucked up people unable to communicate their feelings. 18+

Warning: my formatting is so weird. This is how my brain works. o7

Pairings: SPN OC Babe x Dean (slow burn asf), all other pairings platonic .

✦

Babe watched her parents get turned into werewolves when she was 10, and she was never the same after. Hunting became her life, dropping out of school and running from foster homes to learn absolutely everything she could about monster hunting in order to track down her parents. At 16, she finally finds them and puts them out of their misery, mourning for weeks before deciding to pick right back up where she left off, vowing to only stop when she’s dead.

It’s only years later when she meets Bobby Singer. He takes her under his wing immediately, giving her an upstairs bedroom to crash in and introducing her to the Winchesters, hoping it will break the hermit out of her shell just a bit… until Babe takes it a tad too literally.

Chapter One: Shot Down In Flames

　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　　 　　 　✦  　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　

The first time Dean sees her, she’s tucking out of Bobby’s back door into the rainy night; her curly hair seemingly leaving after she does.

“Hey— Woah. Bobby- who’s..?”

“Ah- don’t even get any ideas, kid. She’s… not friendly.”

Dean furrows his brow at Bobby before moving towards the back window, watching as the mysterious figure hops in their truck and pulls off into the storm.

The next time Dean sees her, it’s almost a year later. She hops begrudgingly out of Bobby’s truck bed, her cheeks wind-whipped from traveling in the cold October air. The hunter’s pupils widen at the sight of that pretty, curly hair. He remembers that hair.

She flicks a cigarette butt into the dirt before Bobby starts talking.

“Boys—this is Babe. She don’t talk much, so don’t push it. That means you, Dean.”

Dean makes a face. Of course he’s not gonna push it. …Hopefully.

“… she’s helping us on the hunt. any questions?”

The younger Winchester brother shakes his head “no” while Dean begins to open his mouth.

“That’s a rhetorical question, idjit. Now come on, or she’s gonna kill you before we get to the goddamned hunt.”

Babe looks over at Bobby appreciatively.

The group is about 30 minutes into the hunt, spread throughout the large, decaying house when Babe stumbles upon Dean. He’s crouched over, sticking his finger in black goop.

“… are you touching the ectoplasm?”

Dean yelps out in surprise and jumps up to face her. “Uh-“

Dean is blabbering words of nonsense, trying his best to explain that he just wanted to confirm the substance via viscosity.

“Actually, I don’t think I wanna know.” Babe interjects before scanning over the rest of the room, noticing a few more ectoplasmic splats on the dilapidated wooden floor.

“Hm. I’m gonna grab Bobby and your brother. Too much ecto in here for it not to be a hotspot. You… good here?”

Dean just nods, pretending she didn’t just scare the shit out of him.

“Just— please… try not to touch anymore ectoplasm. You, uh, can get ghost sickness; It really sucks.” Babe tells him, turning to fetch the other two hunters.

“Oh. I’ve… had it before.” He states, causing her to pause before she steps over the threshold into the hallway.

“Hm. Me, too.” She responds quickly, continuing in her stride to the others. He is left wanting to know more.

“That fucking sucked.”

Dean groans as they all stumble from the house, battered and bruised from being tossed into walls and through windows.

“Hear, hear.” Sam responds, limping towards the Impala.

“Anyone missing any fingers? That… Mildred bitch was a biter!” Bobby adds, moving to lean against Babe’s truck.

Babe just shakes her head, leaning against the F250 as well. “Lots of fun.”

“That was fun for you?” Dean groans, feeling his broken rib every time he breathes.

“Y’know, there’s a reason I didn’t introduce you all sooner. “ Bobby chuckles, tired.

“This one here is something else.”

Sam and Dean take a moment to look her over. She’s definitely the least injured out of all of them, only sporting a few cuts and bruises.

“You were kicking major ass.” Sam hums, smiling before wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

Babe smiles politely, but doesn’t respond.

“…So, you gonna be coming along on more hunts?” Dean asks as he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets.

“… Dunno.” She hums, shrugging.

“Babe’s a bit of a lone wolf— doesn’t play well with other hunters.” Bobby begins, turning to look at her. “But, we’re workin’ on that, right?”

Babe shoots Bobby a look.

Sam and Dean find this endlessly amusing, until Babe redirects her glare to them, causing them to snap back into character quickly.

“Anyways, little miss sunshine here is happy to help out every once in a while. So she’s going to give you two her phone number so you can reach her. Ain’t that right, Babe?” Bobby asks, fatherly energy exuding.

“…Yeah.” She grumbles, handing Sam her cell phone.

A few more months pass, and Babe gets a call as she’s out on the road.

“….Hello?”

“Hey— It’s Dean Winchester. Now a good time?”

“Um—yeah. What’s up?”

“Well, you wouldn’t happen to be near Cold Oak, South Dakota, by any chance?”

She glances up at her gps.

“…I’m like, a day away— why?”

He clears his throat over the receiver. “Uh, well— I caught wind of a job. It’s kinda a two-person gig. You in?”

She furrows her eyebrows in confusion even though he can’t see her.

“Um, what about your brother?”

“Heh. Sammy got a little pissed at me the other day. He’s uh— on his own hunt. So— meet me in Cold Oak?”

Babe sighs silently, doing her best to hide her displeasure. It’s not that she doesn’t like Dean, it’s just that she doesn’t like… people in general.

“…Alright. Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

26 or so hours later, Babe’s in a motel parking lot smoking a cigarette against the grill of her truck.

Her phone buzzes— a text from Dean. “Sunrise Motel, right?”

She responds with a “Yep.”

15 minutes go by before she hears the Impala’s engine rumbling around the corner. She may be uninterested in hunting with other people, but at least Dean has a badass ride.

The older Winchester throws the car in park and steps out.

“Well, hey. I like the boots.” He hums, looking her over.

“…Thanks.” She responds, dry.

“… So— what’s up with this hunt?”

“Mm. A few soccer moms have been found dead. Everything splattered all over… everything. None of ‘em have anything in common, as far as I can tell.” He explains, making a mental note of her attitude— all business.

“Fun. Let’s go have a chat with anyone who knew the victims— maybe we’re dealing with a witch with a hit list or something.”

Dean loosens his tie as he sits in the Impala, obviously a little frustrated.

“… Totally thought it was a witch thing.”

Babe nods, chewing on the inside of her lip as she thinks. “Yeah. Same. But no hex bags anywhere— unless they’re in the freakin’ walls or something.”

“The coroner’s office was nuts— all three vics were in buckets. Almost smoothie-fied.”

Babe grimaces, looking over at him. “Goddamn. What even does that?”

“Hm. Woodchipper? ….Beats me.” He sighs.

“… Well, you know what that means.” She says.

“—You know, I have no idea how you fit all that hair in a bun.” He hums, nursing his 4th… 5th? beer. The bar they’re in is almost empty— classic rock playing at half volume overhead.

“…Lots of gel. So much.” She shakes her head, almost exasperated from even thinking about the process.

“Mm. It’s nice— but I like how you usually wear it.” He nods, taking another swig.

“—Thank you.” Her face twitches slightly when she receives compliments. Dean notices this.

“Uh… Bobby say anything yet?” She asks, changing the subject.

He pulls out his phone, checking his notifications. “… Yeah, actually. He asked if you had any more… cayenne pepper and bone ash?”

She sits and thinks for a moment, sipping her beer. “I should have some leftover...”

“… What’s cayenne pepper and bone ash for?” Dean asks, lost.

“—Bobby thinks it’s a cursed object. We gotta burn… whatever it is with cayenne pepper and bone ash in a graveyard.” She explains.

“Mm. You know, you’re like my brother. I bet you two would bond over lore or whatever you… nerds do.” He says, mock annoyed.

Babe shakes her head, amused. “…So, what do you think this cursed object is? I didn’t see any matching t-shirts or anything.”

Dean sighs. “No friggin’ clue. I mean, what— they all have the same cursed mini-van or something?”

She sits back in her chair, ruminating on his words for a minute before something dawns on her. “Hey, wait a fucking second—!“

“…So it was literally a cursed mini-van.” He says, eyebrows raised.

“Well, mid-sized S.U.V.— but, yeah. Mom car. Used to belong to some dude who dated a witch. They broke up, she got mad— cursed car.” She sighs, looking the vehicle over.

“Mm. And guy sold it without getting rid of the curse.”

“Yup. He still ended up dying from the curse though— way before the ladies, so we didn’t connect the dots.”

“Mm. Well, damn. Maybe I should hunt with you more often. Smart and pretty is a hell of a combo.”

She rolls her eyes, ignoring his flirting. “Anyways— I’m thinking we ward the shit out of this thing and then have Bobby come and tow it to the salvage. He can strip it to parts or whatever, and we can go check on ex-girlfriend.”

Dean nods. “Works for me. Hey— I saw a restaurant that looked pretty good on the way into town. Feel like stopping after we get our gank on?”

Babe looks at him; deadpan. “…get our gank on?”

“…Yeah.” He grins.

She looks at him for a while longer, fighting an internal battle.

“… Fine. As long as you buy the first round.”

“So—I’ve never asked— how’d you get into the life?” He hums, leaning back in the worn booth.

Her jaw flexes; she takes an almost imperceptible inhale before speaking. “Heh. Long, sad story, really.”

He nods in understanding. “Yeah. Same. Uh— Sammy and I were raised on the road by our dad after our mom died. Dad wanted to hunt the thing that killed her, so he trained us to hunt, too.” He explains, taking a sip of his beer.

“…I’m sorry about your mom.” She replies, relating.

“Thank you.” He nods. “…I’m guessing you started early? The way you fight— you have to have years of experience.”

She doesn’t know if it’s the beers or the compliment that warms the bottom of her stomach.

“…Yup. My— uh, parents got turned into werewolves in front of me. I figured stuff out quick after that.”

Dean’s face is quickly painted with concern. “Jesus. I’m sorry. You were… young?”

“Yeah. Night of my 10th birthday. Then my 16th— I tracked them down and… yeah.”

Dean’s heard hunting stories before, but never something like this.

“You— hunted them?”

“…My first kills.” She nods.

“Fuck, Babe. That’s way too much for a kid to go through on their own. I’m sorry.”

She shrugs, shaking her head. Even though she has on a brave face, Dean sees that the subject affects her. “Everyone gets into hunting somehow, right? Sometimes it sucks more than usual.”

He huffs a laugh in disbelief. “You are like, a certified badass. You know that?”

She just shakes her head before finishing off her beer. “…another round?”

An hour later, the two hunters are outside, leaning on their respective vehicles and chatting. Babe lights a cigarette.

“So— I feel like we worked well together today.” Dean says, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

“Mhm.” Is what Babe responds with, more interested in her cigarette than the conversation.

Dean blinks. “I guess what I’m asking is would you wanna work together again?”

She shrugs, taking a final long drag from her cig before snuffing it out under her boot.

“I mean, you have my number.”

She turns and hops in her truck, her curly hair entering after she does.

As the sound of her engine disappears down the street, Dean catches himself missing her. At least he has her number.

[wawamouse]

Wip Wednesday!

+some musings

Oz Magi!!! Oz Magi!! The season is upon us once more! This will be my second year participating so I’m excited. Last year I wrote that Adebisi-focused fic, Nothing New Under the Sun, which was pretty fun to research for and imagine. I feel like I take a fic more seriously if it’s a prompt or request… 🤣 Definitely encourage any other new folks to the fandom to check out the event! …I haven’t exactly narrowed down my own wish requests for this year, but I have a couple that I’ve been thinking about :)c

In WIP news: I have another gifset I want to post but I still have to come up with the text to accompany it -_- (Yes, that’s right, I have to) (it's been a month) (I'm stupid)

As I mentioned in the notes of “Low Life”, I have a Halloweenish fic I’m trying to get done by the end of the month… So naturally, I’m getting quite a lot done on everything but that wip. Hey, if it gets done, it get done. If not… Eh, I haven’t attempted horror in a hot second, so idk what I excepted, honestly.

Hopefully now that the “Speak Low” series and “Saving Sympathy” are done—2/3 of wips I distracted myself with—I can now buckle in and focus some more on “In the Course of Destiny” ch.5 and also “Crash” (the first distraction… now a bonafide Struggle on its own). And then my timeloop fic and Desire Path. Yup, I’ve decided that’s going to be the order of my priorities. I’m sure nothing will change that.

Anyway here’s a snippet from an Androids AU that I’ve had around since like last year and haven’t been able to do much with yet... (many such cases) LMAO.

[ninja-muse]

So, June was a month! Felt like several, but apparently still just the one. Usually I measure the length of a month in books read—more books equals a “faster” month, fewer books equals a “slower” one—but that doesn’t work this time. I read nine books, so about my average. I think the number of “this was fine” books skewed things, as did The Hands of the Emperor which was excellent, but also very long.

And yes, I’ve finally read The Hands of the Emperor! It was everything I expected it to be and more, and just lovely and charming and cozy and all of things. I am bummed that my library doesn’t have the sequel, not that I’d be launching into it right off anyway. It’s the principle of the thing. The only reason it didn’t get my Review of the Month is because it’s hard to take photos of ebook covers….

On the opposite end of the spectrum, my TBR shelf book this month was a last-minute scramble and I opted for something short as a result. (And a classic, because I hadn’t read one of those in a while.) Tortilla Flat really hasn’t aged well, folks. Let’s all hope my next classic is better.

The other last-minute addition to this post is DIGGER IS HERE! I got the notice that it shipped late last week but didn’t think it would be coming to my door quite so soon. It has bookmarks, plural, you guys! I would be jumping into it next except that I’ve barely finished Shubeik Lubeik and I need to put space between excellent graphic novels.

Next up, though? One of the ARCs I hauled this month is The Frugal Wizard’s Guide to Surviving Medieval England. I’m going to be starting it today.

(Episode Thirteen is my other hauled book this month. I’d forgotten I’d requested a copy from a book rep.)

Other life events? I finally saw The Importance of Being Earnest performed! Another last-minute thing, that. I heard about it near the end of May and dithered about getting a ticket because the theatre was a bit of a trek, and then went, well, when else am I going to see it… Worth it, and that’s one thing off my bucket list.

Hopefully July has a lot of good books to make up for the kind of average reading month I’ve just had. Wish me luck!

And now without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

The Hands of the Emperor - Victoria Goddard Cliopher, Secretary to His Radiancy, the Last Emperor of Astandalas, invites his lord on a beach vacation. He has no idea how this will change the world—or his life.

8.5/10

Pacific Islander-coded protagonist, cast contains a range of ethnicities and skin tones, 🇨🇦

Shubeik Lubeik - Deena Mohamed A Cairo kiosk owner tries to sell off three wishes. It doesn’t quite go as planned.

9/10

Egyptian cast, largely Muslim cast, Egyptian author, #ownvoices for Egyptian

warning: depression, suicidal ideation, death of a child

Shadowlands - Matthew Green Short histories of lost settlements from across the UK.

7/10

The Golem of Brooklyn - Adam Mansbach Len creates a golem while stoned. This is only his first poor decision of the week. Road trip, anyone? Out in September

7/10

largely Jewish cast, 🏳️‍🌈 (lesbian) secondary character, Jewish author, #ownvoices for Jewishness

warning: anti-Semites, white supremacists, homophobes

The Helios Syndrome - Vivian Shaw A freelance necromancer must help determine why an airplane crashed, while being haunted by a pilot.

7.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 (gay) protagonist, 🏳️‍🌈 (gay/bi) secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 author

The Dress Diary of Mrs. Anne Sykes - Kate Strasdin A history of Victorian fashion through the lens of a fabric scrapbook.

7/10

The Gifts - Liz Hyder In 1840s England, a woman grows wings, a storyteller comes to London, a wife grows unsatisfied, and a doctor gets ambitious.

7/10

Black British POV character, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (gay)

warning: racism, misogyny, animal death, medical content

The Road to Roswell - Connie Willis Francie travels to Roswell to save her college roommate from a misguided marriage, and promptly finds herself on an involuntary road trip with an alien.

6.5/10

Tortilla Flat - John Steinbeck A group of friends ramble around old-time Monterey.

3.5/10

multiracial protagonists, largely BIPOC cast

warning: racism, misogyny, alcohol, racial slurs

The Gay Best Friend - Nicolas DiDomizio Dom’s best friends are getting married! Which is great, except he’s having to keep secrets for both of them and maybe he needs to think a bit about expectations and authenticity.

5/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 author, #ownvoices

Currently reading:

Nothing! I start July with a clean slate.

Stats

Monthly total: 10 Yearly total: 62/140 Queer books: 2 Authors of colour: 1 Books by women: 6 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 1 Off the TBR shelves: 1 Books hauled: 2 ARCs acquired: 5 ARCs unhauled: 4 DNFs: 0

January February March April May

[sheerfreesia007]

Finding Love In Legacy Oaks pt. 23.5

Title: Finding Love In Legacy Oaks pt. 23.5

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x OFC!

Author: @sheerfreesia007​

Words: 1,005

Warnings: Cursing, verbal fighting, heartbreak

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien

Gif Credit: @trashcora

Bunny feels as if she can’t breathe as she blindly rushes out of the park to the sidewalk that will hopefully lead her back home. She’s taking shallow gasps of air into her lungs and it’s not relieving the feeling of choking she’s experiencing. She’s still walking as her eyes dart from left to right in a panicked state when suddenly a hand grabs onto her bicep. Bunny whips around while throwing her hands up effectively getting the person to let her go. Her head snapped up as her eyebrows furrowed worriedly. Finally her eyes focused and she saw Jack standing in front of her with his hands up between the two of them. She could see his mouth was moving but she couldn’t hear him. Slowly taking in a deep breath Bunny began to calm herself down as her hearing came back to her.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me Bunny. It’s me.” he was saying as he still held his hands up in the air between the two of them.

“Don’t touch me please.” Bunny gasped out and Jack nodded his head as the two of them came to a stop on the sidewalk. “I have to go home. I can’t believe he showed up here. He knows better, because the police warned him. What the fuck was he thinking?!” Bunny began to ramble as her hands carded through her hair while her eyes danced along the ground. “I can’t believe he would do this. Fucking asshole!” Bunny snapped as anger began to simmer in the bottom of her stomach.

“Hey, it’s okay. He screwed up, you can report him for violating the restraining order now. He’ll get jail time now.” Jack offered and Bunny whipped her head to stare at him for a moment with narrowed eyes. Jack took a step back at her angry face, he’s never seen her like this and it was a little overwhelming for him to try to calm her down. 

“I’m so humiliated.” Bunny said softly. “I thought I was ready to face him after all these years that we’ve been divorced. But it all came crashing down as soon as I saw him. I-I…” Bunny began to ramble again and Jack watched helplessly as she paced wildly in front of him.

“Hey Bunny, try to calm down sweetheart.” Jack tried to coax her into calming down. His hand reached out to graze her arm and she instantly straightened her posture which made Jack flinch back.

“STOP TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN!” she shouted suddenly and Jack stood there stunned. “You don’t know what it’s been like living under that piece of shit’s control! Not at all! How could you?! You’re always in control of your life isn’t that right Agent Whiskey?!” Bunny snapped heatedly at him and Jack narrowed his eyes at her while she seethed in her spot.

“How do you know that name?” he asked sternly and Bunny bared her teeth at him in anger.

“What’s the matter, don't like your secrets not being secrets anymore?” she hissed at him and Jack glared at her for a moment as he felt his peace threatened. “All you had to do was be honest with me. But no, you couldn’t do that. Had to have complete control of everything didn’t you?” she began ranting as she pointed her index finger at him.

Jack knew in the back of his mind that Bunny wasn’t being malicious, she was stressed and had just been thrown for a loop because of her abusive ex-husband. But he couldn’t let this slide, she had found out about his code name and he needed to find out how.

“How do you know that name?” he asked once again and Bunny scoffed at him as she sneered angrily. If they weren’t fighting Jack would’ve laughed at her sneer, it was so off putting to see on her face. He was so used to seeing her smile or hearing her laugh that a sneer and angry scowl were so odd to see, he was slightly surprised to see she could make those facial expressions.

“I overheard a phone call the day we had the talk about lying.” Bunny grumbled out petulantly and Jack felt a sensation of cold water rush down his spine.

“Oh that’s rich.” he said derisively as he folded his arms across his chest while glaring at her. “When we talked about me lying you were lying by omission that you overheard my phone call! Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black!?” he shouted at her as his voice rose in volume. Jack could see Bunny’s eyes growing wide as he shouted at her and he knew this wasn’t helping anything but he couldn’t help his reaction. It was a threat to his and Esme’s peace and protection. Jack could feel himself growing angrier and more threatened that she had overheard his phone conversation.

“Yeah it was wrong to listen in and then not tell you but honestly Jack!? Why wouldn’t I want to learn more about you?! You’ve practically told me nothing about your life!” Bunny snapped angrily and Jack seethed at her audacity. “How are we supposed to be together if we’re not honest with each other?” Bunny asked seriously suddenly and Jack felt like he was hit by a semi-truck. She was absolutely right. How could they be together if they weren’t honest with each other?

“You’re damn right! You’re absolutely right! Maybe we shouldn’t have even tried to be more than neighbors!” he shouted at her as his anger grew to rage that consumed everything within him. He only barely caught the tears welling in Bunny’s eyes before she whirled away from him and rushed down the sidewalk away from him towards their homes. Jack sighed loudly as all of his anger rushed out of him and he was left standing on the sidewalk by himself. “Shit!” Jack hissed as he placed his hands on hips and let out another loud long sigh. He fucked up.

[ellie-e-marcovitz]

April 1999 - New Zealand

1 April 1999

New Zealand Ministry of Magic, Wellington

It was with a ‘thud’ I arrived in the international arrivals area at the New Zealand Ministry of Magic. Pain erupted up my left leg as it met whatever was underneath the grass.

Pushing myself up the best I could, I pulled out my phone. Dead. The amount of magic it had been around probably drained the battery. Hopefully, Eileen had gotten the message I’d sent during lunch.

Finally managing to get to my feet, a quick glace told me everything had managed to stay together.

“Welcome to New Zealand!” came a far too chipper voice to my right, and I bemusedly took in the figure standing there. “I’m Brian Redpath.”

He looked more like an airplane pilot or steward than a ministry official, though the dancing figures decorating his tie more than confirmed that he was.

“How long will you be here?” He asked, settling in at his desk. I stole a glance at the calendar sitting on the desk facing out. April 1st.

“Erm…” Ii rubbed my head. “Monday afternoon at the latest, so… Four… days? Sounds about right…”

“Visiting family?” he continued, jotting down something on a piece of parchment. I nodded. “And any restricted items?” I shook my head. That I had been very careful about.

“Please fill out the rest of the form, then you’re free to go.”

Filling out the rest of the details, I scribbled down the candy I’d brought to share, before scribbling my signature at the bottom. Tapping my wand at the bottom sealed it.

Finding the exit, I took in my surroundings. The ministry appeared to be set within the grounds of the muggle parliament here, not dissimilar to London.

As I made my way towards the street, I caught sight of a familiar, red-headed figure standing next to a shiny jaguar. “Ellie!” she cheered, waving her hand. “You made it!”

I hurried over the best I could, Eileen hurrying towards me as well. “Oh, am I glad to see you!”

A teasing smile flitted across her lips. “You must be really out of it, El.” She joked, taking my suitcase. “Oof, what’s in this? Bricks?”

I snorted a laugh. “What d’you think? Plenty of books and some candy to share with the family, along with some clothes for the next few days.”

We shared a laugh before making our way over to the jaguar. I noticed a familiar Pride of Portree scarf on the front seat as I slid in.

“Andre’s been here?” I asked, picking up the scarf to move it as Eileen got in. She blushed, but said nothing on it.

“We’re going to have to portkey up to Auckland,” she said instead. “I know it’s not entirely your favourite way to go…”

“It’s not as bad if it’s the car.” I noted. “Whiplash is the only problem.”

“Then buckle up,” Eileen ordered. “Because I’m not spending eight hours on the road again.” I shuddered in response and clicked it in place.

Another gut pull and we were at a road stop near Auckland, blinking in the sunlight. Twenty or so minutes later, we pulled into the drive of her house.

“…So mum and dad should be here, either tomorrow or Saturday. Elliott said he’s coming tomorrow…”

“Which means he’s on his way here already.” I deadpanned, still feeling the extreme time difference.

Suitcase extracted, we headed inside. Stepping in, it took more than a little willpower to just leave my suitcase and not crash face first on the bed.

Instead, I recharged on the couch, before Eileen dragged me out to the local grocery store for both some snacks for me and items for Easter. There were plenty of interesting things on the shelves and, between the both of us, managed to pick out a couple.

Getting back to Eileen’s, dinner was eaten and I crashed not long after, routine be damned. There was no way I was going to be able to stay up anywhere close to my usual time.

Elliott arrived the next morning, somehow surviving the brutal time change like a champ.

It also turned out that he and our parents had coordinated their arrivals.

We had just enough time to grab something to eat, before mum and dad arrived in not much better shape than I had been. A round of hugs, and we ended up walking along the quayside area, before cramming ourselves into Eileen’s car. It was a tight fit for the four of us and what luggage was brought.

At least I’d brought Andre’s scarf inside the night before. I figured Eileen wasn’t much in the mood for questions while playing taxi driver for the rest of the family.

Of course, who should be waiting for us at Eileen’s, but Jacob and Olivia, both of whom appeared just as exhausted. We all tumbled out of the car, eager to greet the unexpected arrivals.

The rest of my time in New Zealand passed in something of a blur. We spent Saturday exploring some, mainly around Auckland, and even managing to find spots that Eileen hadn’t seen yet. Mum even managed to drag us all out on a grocery run with only minor complaints.

Easter was peaceful enough, in that, no one was outright demanding that I go. Jacob, Eileen and I all went out for a quiet breakfast instead, before finding a lone bookstore daring to be open. I would’ve liked a little extra sleep, but enjoyed the company of my siblings none the less.

Mum, dad and Elliott were all back by the time we got back to Eileen’s. Mum was in the kitchen, as was dad, bouncing between the countertops, the oven and the stove. Olivia also hovered at the edge of the kitchen, tossing a salad of some kind.

While me and Eileen had decided on a ham earlier in the week, mum had grabbed a cut of lamb during the family run on the grocery store.

Monday was far more chaotic.

Having noted that I intended to leave in the afternoon, the ministry had dispatched an owl with a reminder. Nice as you will, merely asking to not overstay too long.

I think I burned it, not before groaning and texting Charlie to expect me in the next few hours. Mum packed me a bag of leftovers, mainly the lamb and a fruit salad she’d put together, which I put in my bag.

There were rounds of “see you laters” and hugs, before Elliott appariated us down to Wellington. He was leaving later in the day, only needing to get back before Tuesday morning in Britain. He’d also frequently visited the New Zealand ministry while hiding out here.

I turned my phone off before entering the ministry, not needing it to go dead while using the portkey again. Following Elliott, I gaped at the visitor’s entrance. It looked almost like a futuristic tube station.

Completing the wand check, we passed through security and headed down to the international portkey arrivals and departures area.

Checking out, I headed over to the open area. Shoving the beach ball into the box, I pulled out the other object: an empty flour bag. Grabbing my things, I waved one last time.

“la Roumanie,” I muttered, and with a sharp tug, I was off.

Romania

[kateliot4ever]

The Way Home's Chyler Leigh Talks Finale's Jacob Twist, Elliot's Decision ('I Was Devastated!') — Plus, Grade It!

Hallmark Channel’s The Way Home offered up a few answers and even more time-travel mysteries in its Season 1 finale on Sunday.

First, Kat discovered that not only is she responsible for the crash that killed her father Colton, but she’s also the mysterious woman at his funeral with whom Del thought her husband was having an affair. Realizing that time travel has brought her family much pain, Kat was ready to move on from it. But then it dawned on her that her MIA little brother Jacob followed Finn the dog into the pond that fateful night… and time-traveled to 1814?! The final seconds of the episode revealed that the series premiere’s witch who was being chased by an angry mob, before jumping into the pond, is actually Kat!

Elliott, too, was ready to move on, but not in a way that was good news for Kat/Elliott ‘shippers. When Kat told him that she signed her divorce papers, Elliot responded that he’s been a spectator in his own life, ruled by the past ever since Alice told him his future. Although he loves Kat, he now needs to start a new chapter (sans Kat?!) to see where his own path might lead.

Below, star/executive producer Chyler Leigh breaks down Kat’s appearance in 1814, that Jacob time-travel twist and Elliot’s “devastating” decision to end things with Kat. Plus, the actress weighs in on whether Del knows about the pond’s special abilities.

What were some of the biggest questions that you had, coming out of the finale, that you’re excited to explore in Season 2?

Obviously, the white witch factor of it… From what I’ve been told that, I think I will be going back [in time] in order to, hopefully, help explain a little bit of what happened, because I’d like to know! [Laughs] Also, with Elliot, too, I’m kind of like, “Aww. But we have to get back together, don’t we?” [Laughs]

TVLINE | Kat has this big epiphany about Jacob possibly having gone back in time, and it’s coming at a time when Kat herself is starting to put the past in the past. So where does that leave her moving forward?

It kind of gets chalked up, again, to the fact that she’s a reporter. She’s a journalist, and so no matter what, getting to the bottom of everything has always been the through line for her. It’s just what comes naturally in her personality and just her skill, and obviously that has a part to play. But [if] there’s any hope that she could find more answers, if there’s any hope she could find Jacob, she would never truly, truly give up… She’s going to go for it. Family is always first for her, which is one thing I definitely relate to as Chyler. So I think that, naturally, is just going to push her and propel her forward to go, “OK, no, there is so much more here. I’m going to figure this out.”

How do you imagine this revelation about Jacob might shake up the dynamic in the family, especially given that Del still doesn’t know about the pond and that the girls have been using it to time travel?

Well, here’s my question, and I’m actually genuinely asking this question: Does Del know about the pond?

I did wonder when Alice was singing Colton’s song if maybe Del was putting it together.

I’m speaking now from a fan perspective because I don’t have all these answers yet, but I’m wondering myself. I’m kind of like, well, there’s still the questions [about seeing] this person that impacted your life all this time ago. Do you recognize them? Is there an aspect of that that still comes into play? Or is there some sort of like Men In Black, push-the-button [situation], and you don’t remember certain things? Does that come in, or has it always been there? Because that begs the question, too, of like Colton saying, “My Katherine.” There’s something there as well.

So do they know? Does Del know? When she takes Alice to the pond — and I always loved the line and it was kind of like, “Oooh, mysterious mysteries” — she says, “The pond is a world all of its own” and talks about the pond freezing over and that that is an indicator that seasons are changing, and obviously there’s more to that than saying like actual winter is coming.

I imagine viewers are going to have a lot of theories about the final moments of the finale and Kat being in the past, the way she looks, where Jacob is, why he went back in time but didn’t seem to come back to his present time like Alice and Kat did. Did the producers give you any insight into what’s going on with Kat in 1814 and Jacob?

I’m getting little bits and pieces. I know they’re in the writers’ room as we speak right now. That is one thing I’m so excited about is to just get back there and figure out how did Kat get there. What has it been like? Because they call her, obviously, like a witch. So the idea of her being able to predict or know the future back in a time when witches or anybody with some sense of clairvoyance were being burned at the stake, hence the pitchforks and the angry people coming after her… And the way that she looks. How did she get to that point? I loved seeing the majority of people think that it’s Alice. I think that’s solely because of, obviously, the long hair. So how her hair is so long, and how she looks and why she looks the way she does, why she’s wearing that outfit, is all definitely going to be part of the explanation pretty quick once we jump into Season 2.

You did a lot of traveling to the late 1990s this season, but now you’re going to be, potentially, spending a lot of time much further back in 1814. Is there anything about that specific time period that you’re really excited to step into?

Yes. I don’t know exactly how it’s going to be incorporated quite yet, but I have been asked if I have experience on a horse, and if not, would I be willing to take lessons, and I was like, “Absolutely!” Luckily, what’s great is I live in Tennessee and some very, very good friends of mine own a horse ranch. So I’m like, “Guess who’s coming for dinner.” [Laughs] I can’t wait! That is one thing that I’m really excited about.

We spent the season rooting for Elliot & Kat to get together and then Elliot, essentially, broke up with Kat before they even really entered a relationship. How did you feel about his decision?

Oh my God, I was devastated! But at the same time, Evan [Williams] and I worked really hard in those scenes. That scene, in particular, kudos to that man, who I just absolutely love and adore. You don’t want to understand what he’s saying, but at the same time, it’s like, oh my God, he really did just break free from all the things that he’s known in the past. He actually does have that chance… I don’t want to say that Kat is self-centered, but at the same time, for her to have to accept the fact that it really isn’t about her, it’s about the wellbeing of this person who she does genuinely love, you have to respect that journey. When she has that conversation in the [finale], and he says, “I’ve been here all along,” and she says, “Well, you don’t really understand what it’s been like,” and he does say, “No, I do know because this has governed and dictated my entire life.” So he’s been impacted for the past 20 years by this. And I wonder if we’re going to touch on who he was married to, because he mentions that in the very beginning [of the series]. I was like, “Wait, who’s that girl?” [Laughs]

I wanted to clarify something about the Kat and Elliot conversation. By this “new chapter,” did he mean he’s moving away? And if not, can they still be friend after this?

Oh, that is a great question: Can you ever really truly be friends with your ex? I don’t know, to be very, very honest. I don’t know if that means [he’s] moving away or whatnot. I doubt it. I mean, he’s too invested in life there. He’s a teacher. But I couldn’t confirm nor deny because I don’t know.

[fardell24b]

An Aquatic Second Contact - Part 3

T’Lyn watched Mariner leave. “She didn’t waste time.”

 “So?” Tendi asked.

 “She wanted to get out of here.”

 “That’s true.”

 T’Lyn turned back to the screen. “Now, these seas have been heavily settled for centuries…”

  Boimler was curious about the planet, but he had to wait until the end of his shift. He was also concerned about the report of the rogue Klingons. “What do you think is going to happen?” he asked Barnes.

 “I’m not sure. Hopefully they won’t want to fight with the Che’Ta here,” Barnes responded. She looked at her board. “The probes haven’t found anything yet, but most of them are still moving to their positions.”

  Eali Toromi Station

Having changed into a wetsuit uniform, Mariner entered the station. She found an assistant and raft waiting.

 “Please step onto the raft,” assistant said.

 “Don’t worry. I can swim,” Mariner said as she took out a pair of goggles.

 “You don’t need to,” the assistant objected.

 “But I want to,” Mariner said as she put on the goggles. She then dived from the airlock into the water.

  As soon she had dived into the water, the HUD in the goggles activated, providing Mariner with the route information to the meeting room. Having memorised the information, she deactivated the HUD and started breaststroking through the water, taking breaths every twenty seconds.

 It didn’t take long, but it allowed Mariner to take a closer look, so to speak, at the people. She saw that they moved their tail flukes up and down as Matt and Kimolu would and she accidentally got an eyeful of obviously mammalian anatomy as she almost crashed into a short-haired lady as they tried to round the same corner. “Sorry,” she said as they both surfaced.

 “That’s OK,” the lady said. “To be expected with visitors. Besides I was preoccupied.”

“Oh?”

 “None of your business!” the lady said before submerging and swimming off.

 “Of course,” Mariner said. She continued on her way.

  “Mariner!” Freeman exclaimed, exasperated at her daughter’s contrary nature, “you didn’t need to swim!”

 “I wanted to,” Mariner explained as she clambered onto the platform between the Captain and Ma’ah. “Besides, neither you nor Ransom ordered me not to.”

 “Obviously,” Freeman said with a sigh. “In any case I asked you to come here because of what Captain Ma’ah has informed us of.”

 “And what is that?” Mariner asked Ma’ah.

Mariner watched the video of Martok’s information twice. That a rogue house would do such a thing didn’t surprise her. But they weren’t going to it now. Not on her watch! “That won’t happen!” she declared.

 “Good to hear,” Ma’ah said. “But how could you help?”

 “Mariner is capable of thinking outside the box,” Freeman explained.

 “Maybe some sort of strategy that you could come up with?” Ma’ah asked.

 “Possibly,” Mariner responded. She would have to give it thought.

  USS Cerritos

After Mariner had left, Tendi and T’Lyn had continued to go through the available data on the planet.

 “In many cultures in the Meraessani Shallows, twins used to be treated as one person,” Tendi read.

 “Now, that is intriguing,” T’Lyn responded. “But what does it say about the current situation.”

 “Because of that cultural heritage, many pairs of twins still do ‘everything as one’ out of choice.”

 “But does it say anything about parental expectations?”

 “It doesn’t, but I can certainly imagine that would play a huge role,” Tendi said in slightly nervous tone.

 ‘There is something there,’ T’Lyn thought. It would probably related to Tendi’s nature as an Orion. She knew one thing, that it wasn’t for her to bring it up. She remembered the disappointment that her parents had shown (briefly) when she had told them that she had been reassigned to Starfleet.

   Sh’vhal (Two months earlier)

“Due to my perceived emotional state, I have been reassigned to Starfleet,” she said.

 Both her parents showed disappointment before they reasserted their control over their emotions.

 “How many times have I said that you need to perfect your control?” her mother asked.

 “I have lost count,” T’Lyn said with sarcasm and slight annoyance.

 “Like just now?” Her father asked.

 “Yes. The whole crew was chastising me.”

 “Really?” her mother asked.

 “Yes.”

  USS Cerritos

“T’Lyn?” Tendi asked.

 “A reminiscence,” T’Lyn stated. “Now, is there incidence of the ‘twins as one’ trait elsewhere?”

 Tendi looked at her PADD again. “Yes, but the Meraessani Shallows seem to have been a centre of imperialism, and thus may have spread the trait around that way.”

 “We will definitely need to look closer,” T’Lyn said.

  On the Bridge, it was still quiet, but Boimler was on edge. He was anticipating an alert and an announcement that the rogue Klingons were approaching. He tensed as Barnes noted an alert.

 “They could be here,” she said.

 “Where?” Shax asked.

 “At the L4 point of the next planet out,” Barnes reported.

 “Launch another probe,” Shax ordered.

 “Aye.”

  Eali Toromi Station

Mariner had watched the video from Martok a third time when Shax’s report came in.

 “Cerritos to Captain Freeman. A blip that may be the rogue ship has been detected at the L4 point of the next planet out.”

 “Understood, keep alert,” Freeman ordered. She looked to Ma’ah and he nodded.

 “Share the data with the Che’Ta, Freeman out.”

 “Acknowledged, Cerritos out.”

 “I shall return to my ship,” Ma’ah announced.

[subway-boss-jericho]

REJOICE, POKEMON!INGO FROM STEADY TRACKS DO NOT WAVER BE UPON YE

This is the first reference I ever made of him, roughly...... lets see- March 23rd was the date- trains in hell that was 4 months ago okay

Anyways! Gonna slap some info about him in here because to say the least I love this man infinitely

He is a Steel/Ground type, and clocks at exactly 13 feet tall. His legs move like the leading wheels on a train (gifs inbound) and his feet-hoof-claw-things that I still haven’t made up a word for can latch onto rails in order to ride them! He has a wheel on his foot that propels him at incredible speeds. 

He can also use is claws for the same purpose! More often though, the wheels on his claws are used to create vibrations and use attacks. I can’t exactly explain how that works yet but I am thinking very hard about how it works and i have a half-answer at the ready if someone pokes me about it skdgjhsdg

I don’t wanna go too in-depth about his actual functions and biology that aren’t scopeable at surface level because I’m hoping to reveal more information in the coming chapters, but hopefully this is enough to at least get your gears spinning about what else may have changed for our poor, very literal, train man. Almost everything on this design was deliberate and/or has a purpose of some kind

But have a few fun facts! -He is Adamant nature! which is hilarious given that i wrote him that way before i realized it was a beneficial nature. this mans minmaxing life.  -His cry is verbalized as AWLLA BOAH, which is very unsubtly All Aboard, your honors -He’s based off of a locomotive engine! Sure hope that was obvious! sdkjghsdg -The lighter blue triangles on his body are all made of a softer, clay-like material! Also, the bridge of his nose :] That’s for avoiding crash damage!

In the coming chapter I’m giving him a name so that we don’t have to keep calling him ST!Ingo, so look forward to me changing literally all of my tags about him KJHDSGSDG Anyways! Next post will be the newer references and also I’ll include some more fun facts about his stats and stuff! I’ll toss you his current moveset too, because those are all revealed in chapter 1 <3 (link to the other reference here!)

Steady Tracks Masterpost