#final de ETA

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

I Gave You My Heart❤️💔

One Shot (Complete) ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x f!Reader x Lucien de Leon

🎄Summary: You and Dieter attend his parents annual Christmas party where you unexpectedly run into your ex, Lucien de Leon. As events (and drama) unfold, you're soon wondering if you are making the right choice about your future.

🎁Word Count: 9.1 K

🚨Warnings: Angst, smut shenanigans, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of past drug abuse, shitty relationships, family drama, mentions of unplanned pregnancy. Dieter & Lucien come with their own warnings.

Shout out to my love, @morallyinept, for her wonderful character dialog database. It was nice to have that as a reference for this fic. 💜

I glanced at my watch. We were supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes, but Dieter hadn’t made it home yet due to being stuck in LA traffic. From the string of expletives included in his text messages with his ETA updates, I could tell he was beyond frustrated that filming had gone over schedule. 

He burst through the door of our Sherman Oaks home in a flurry, kicking his shoes off and undressing as he made his way upstairs toward the bathroom to shower. He was still covered in grime and fake blood from whatever gruesome scene he had been filming that morning. 

I followed behind him, picking up his clothes and biting back laughter as I watched his bare ass quickly disappear down the hallway into our bedroom. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but he typically didn’t move at a speed that would cause his ass cheeks to bounce the way they were. He was already in the shower when I entered, vigorously rubbing at his face and hair under the spray as he cursed about the water not warming up fast enough and making jokes that his dick was now shriveled up to the size of an almond because it was so cold. 

I shook my head and laughed as I threw his clothes into the hamper, “Dee, would you relax? I told your mom we might be a few minutes late. She was cool with it.”

He huffed loudly, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t been to one of her Christmas parties in years. There’s gonna be a lot of family there that I’ve been avoiding.” 

As I did some last-minute hair and makeup touch ups, Dieter stepped out of the shower. I glanced over at him, doing a double take as I noticed there was still a tinge of red in his hair near his temple. I pointed toward it, “You still have fake blood in your hair.”

He huffed out a quiet “fuck” as he threw his towel at me and stepped back into the shower, dumping more shampoo into his hand to scrub at the spot while he muttered expletives under his breath. 

By the time he stepped out again, I was pulling on my dress for the party. It was solid black and very fitted with a boat neckline and exceptionally low back. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the straps to sit properly. His hands gripped my hips from behind and squeezed at the meaty flesh, “Well, the almond dick issue is solved. You look so fucking sexy in this. Think we have time for a quickie?”  

I scoffed jokingly, “No. We don’t, actually. Save it for later, lover boy.” 

He whined, “OK. Fine. I wanna fuck you in my old bedroom anyway. That bed has never seen any action. It’s time.” 

I rolled my eyes at him, “You’re so ridiculous.” 

He gave me a quick peck on the cheek then grinned, “I know, but that’s why you love me.”

He wasn’t wrong, I loved his playful and carefree side. He made me smile more than anyone else ever had. We acted like a couple of big kids most days, always having fun and not taking each other for granted. We had both finally reached a point where we were happy, healthy, and ready for life-long companionship. 

We had come into each other's lives at just the right time - him having hit his one-year sober anniversary and me finishing out therapy to deal with all of my childhood trauma. We met in the self-help section of a Barnes and Noble of all places. Both of us were looking for the same book with only one copy being found by him. After several minutes of looking for another one and coming up short, he offered to let me have it, but only if I gave him my phone number. I was hesitant at first, but it ended up being the best decision I had ever made. A year later we were still going strong and planning our future together. 

I could feel my nerves bubbling up as we got into the car. I hadn’t officially met his family, but I had talked to his mom several times when she would call. That didn’t make me feel any better though. 

I dug around in my purse, pulling out my phone to see if my best friend, Delia, had texted me back yet and found a notification from her.

Delia: Sorry, I’m just not feeling up to coming tonight. You two have fun. I’m sure they will all love you. 

I sighed and shoved it back in my purse. Dieter glanced at me from the driver seat, grabbing my hand to lace his fingers with mine once it was free.

“Something wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows. 

I shrugged, “I…don’t know, honestly. Delia’s been kind of weird lately. I feel like she’s avoiding me. I was really hoping she would come tonight. Having someone else there that I know would have been nice.” 

His hand tightened in mine, “She’s probably just busy…she does have that new job.”

I sighed again, “Yeah…true. Maybe you’re right.” 

He pulled my hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers, “Just relax, love. You’re letting the nerves get to you. I can tell. My mom is gonna love you…she already does.” 

I laughed nervously, “She hasn’t even met me…”

He smiled, “Doesn’t matter. She knows you make me happy and keep me outta trouble. That’s all she’s worried about.” 

We were quiet the rest of the way, but that didn’t stop Dieter from giving me reassuring hand squeezes and kisses. With him now focused on me, it seemed like his nerves had dissipated some, which was a good thing, at least. 

As we parked outside his sprawling childhood home in the Hollywood Hills, I couldn’t ignore the bad feeling taking root in my gut and I didn’t know why. I finally shook it off as he reached into the backseat to fetch the Christmas bouquet he had purchased for his mom. From the looks of it, we were some of the first guests to arrive as Dieter had planned. He wanted to spend some time with his parents before things got too hectic. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad idea.

We were greeted with smiling faces and hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Bravo were nothing but kind to me and mostly gushing about how well Dieter was doing and happy he was finally getting his life together. Dieter sat next to me with a shy smile and flushed cheeks as his mom doted on him. He would never admit it, but I knew it meant a lot to him that his parents finally saw him as something other than a failure. 

As guests began to filter in, Dieter took the opportunity to take advantage of his parents' distraction, citing that he was going to show me around. The minute he checked over his shoulder with a smirk as he pulled me upstairs by one hand, I knew what he was up to. 

We were both giggling like a couple of teenagers as he gave one last glimpse over his shoulder before pulling me into a room at the end of the hallway and locking the door behind us. It was like a time capsule. His parents had obviously not touched it since he moved out. The wall space was covered with 80’s movie and band posters. There was floor to ceiling shelves on one side of the room filled with books and old VHS tapes. It was very Dieter. 

I could feel his eyes on me as I inspected the room. I suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, “So, where do you keep the dirty magazines and porn videos?” 

He snorted out a laugh, “Well…that all went with me when I moved out…buuut, I used to keep them buried at the back of the closet…in one of the many boxes labeled as comics.” 

I chuckled, “That sounds about like what I expected.” 

He suddenly pulled me into his arms and smiled against my lips, “We probably need to be fast, so mom doesn't get suspicious.”

His lips trailed down my neck as he backed me up against the dresser. I laughed before responding with a conspiratorial tone, “We can’t have that now, can we? She might ground you from your video games.” 

He groaned against my shoulder before spinning me to face the dresser, meeting my gaze in the mirror as his fingertips ghosted down the exposed skin of my back. I could already feel the arousal drenching my underwear as his thirsty eyes drank me up. His hands moved to the straps of my dress, slipping them over my shoulders, allowing the dress to slide down my body and pool on the floor at my feet. 

He licked his bottom lip as one hand reached around to gently knead at my breast, then pinched the nipple between his fingers. I moaned quietly at the sensation, leaning back against him as I grasped his hand and raised it to my mouth, sucking on his middle and index finger before placing them at my center. He wasted no time pulling my underwear aside to rub at the small bundle of nerves, eliciting a much louder moan from me. He chuckled against my ear, “Imma need you to be quiet, love. These walls are thin. Never know when somebody might walk by.” 

His fingers dipped lower, first one, then two disappearing inside of me to expertly massage at that blissful spot that he knew so well. I gripped his arm with one hand, while the other tangled in his messy curls. 

He hummed against my ear in that deep baritone voice of his, “So wet already, you’re always ready for me, aren’t ya honey?”

I nodded; my head dropped back against his shoulder as my eyes pinched shut. 

“Oh no, love. Keep your eyes on me.” 

My eyes met his reflection, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he fought a smirk. He always looked so fucking sexy when he did that. I could feel his bulge pressing against my ass as he continued to work me over, grinding into me as his hot breath came faster against my ear. He had me coming undone in his arms within minutes, never taking his eyes off mine as he worked me through my release. 

He held me around the middle for support, lips grazing and nibbling at my neck until I regained my senses. I chuckled, turning my head toward him to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He pulled away slightly, just far enough that he could suck his fingers into his own mouth to taste me. All while never breaking our eye contact. I needed him immediately.

I turned in his arms, nimble fingers moving to the buttons on the front of his black dress shirt to unfasten them. He smiled down at me as I worked to remove his clothes, allowing me to take charge now. Once he was undressed, I pushed him back toward the tiny twin bed. 

“Lay down so I can fuck you like you want me to, lover boy.”  

His brown eyes rounded as he took in my words, turning giddy and scrambling onto the bed - his cock erect and bouncing as he went. I had to bite back a laugh at his excitement. His enthusiasm for sex never seemed to wane.

After he got situated, he patted at the tops of his thighs with a lopsided grin that caused his cheeks to dimple. “Alright, mount up and ride me, baby.” 

I couldn’t help chuckling as I peeled off my underwear then moved to straddle his hips. After notching him at my entrance, I quickly sank down all the way, causing his jaw to fall open from the feeling. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re about to revert me back to my sixteen-year-old self and make me come after six seconds by doing shit like that.” 

I leaned down, giggling against his scruffy chin before placing a kiss on the bare heart shaped patch in his beard. He let out a steady controlled breath before loosening his grip and nodding for me to continue. I sat up, placing my hands on his chest for leverage and began to move. We were met with a high-pitched squeaking sound. I paused, rolling my lips together in an attempt to hold in my laughter.

Dieter huffed, “It’s not that loud…keep going.” 

I nodded and began to move again. Every time I sank down onto him - squeak, squeak, squeak. It only seemed to get louder each time. 

My right hand flew to my mouth to hold in the giggles. I couldn’t help it. 

Dieter’s eyes slid closed in defeat as he huffed out, “I guess there’s a reason this bed hasn’t seen any fucking action.” 

I finally lost it, leaning down to bury my face in his chest as I burst into laughter. My movement caused the bed to squeak again which set us both off. It continued the incessant noise as our bodies shook from the hysterics, which only served to make things worse. 

Dieter finally collected himself enough to wrap his arms around me and move to a sitting position, then twisted to hang his legs off the side of the bed. All while it continued to squeak with every movement. 

“Fuck this. I’m a big boy now. Watch me make this work.”

He stood, wrapping my legs around his waist as he did so while I tried to stifle my giggles. He moved back toward the dresser, perching me on the edge of it as he repositioned himself at my entrance and sank in. The sudden sensation of him filling me caused our chuckles to turn to a deep groan. He stood there for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the new angle.

He smiled against my lips, “See…I got this.” 

I gave him a teasing look and nodded, “Then get to it Bravo. Show me how it’s done.” 

His hips began to move, slowly at first so I could feel every inch of him sliding against me. It was already creating a delicious sensation that would soon turn me into a quivering mess in his arms. He began to snap his hips a little faster which resulted in a thumping noise from the mirror smacking against the wall. The faster he went, the louder it got, which caused me to lose it all over again. 

He stopped moving as his forehead tilted forward to lean against my shoulder, “Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

When my eyes finally met his, he was fighting a smile. “I just wanna have sneaky sex in my old bedroom, is that too much to ask?”

I snickered as I pushed at his chest for him to back away, “Ok, it’s my turn. Watch and learn.” 

I hopped down off the dresser and turned my back to him, leaning forward to place my hands on the top of the dresser to brace myself as I arched my ass toward him. I turned to look at him over my shoulder with a teasing smirk, “Mount up, lover boy.” 

He chuckled as he came up behind me, one hand grasping my hip as the other gripped the base of his cock to slide back in. I gasped at the feel of him as he leaned flush against me, lips brushing my ear as he spoke. “You think you’re such a clever girl, don’t ya.”

I nodded as his hips snapped against my ass, now panting as I muttered out some teasing words. “I know I am.”

His hands snaked around to my front, one pulling me flush against him as the other rubbed tight circles on my clit. “I guess that means you deserve to come again. Come on, love. Give me another one.” 

That was enough to send me over the edge again, causing him to grunt against my ear as my walls constricted around him. After a few more thrusts, his groans turned to soft whimpers as he spilled inside of me. His arms tightened around me as he buried his face into the top of my shoulder. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, attempting to catch our breath and come back to reality.  

I felt his lips against my skin, placing gentle kisses before he raised his head to look at me with a blissed-out expression. “You’re so fucking perfect. I love you. Have I told you that today?”

I smiled up at him, “You have, but you can tell me that as many times as you want.” 

He captured my lips in a brief kiss before pulling out with a groan. “Lemme see if I can find something to clean you up with.” 

I stopped him, “No, leave it. I wanna keep you close tonight.” 

His brows arched as he smirked at me, “Such a dirty girl. I fucking love it.” 

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I know you do. Now get dressed. We’ve probably been gone too long as it is.” 

He nodded as he turned to search out his clothes, tossing me my underwear before picking up his pants. We spent a few minutes getting decent. After touching up my makeup and sorting out Dieter’s messy sex hair, we finally made our way downstairs. 

Dieter had his hands on either side of my waist as he walked closely behind me, leaning in next to my ear to whisper about how he was going to take this dress off of me again later. Neither of us paid much attention as we rounded the corner to the living room, causing us to nearly crash into a broad figure. I felt Dieter stiffen behind me as I began to murmur my apologies until my eyes met the chocolate ones peering down at me. With a smirk that was still sexy as ever, Lucien de Leon spoke in that deep raspy voice that I knew so well, “Sorry sweetheart, didn’t see you coming.” He did not seem the least bit surprised to see me.

I felt like I was going to be sick as I wondered what the hell he was doing here. I felt Dieter’s grip tighten as he pulled me closer to him, “Lucien, I thought mom said you weren’t gonna make it?” His voice sounded off, almost like it was a warning more than a question. 

Lucien shrugged as he glanced at me, “I…changed my mind.” 

Dieter sighed, now peering down at me, “I guess I should introduce you…this is my brother, Lucien.” 

Brother? What. The. Fuck. I was struggling to breathe as I gave Lucien a nervous smile, reaching my hand toward him to shake and giving him my name like it was the first time we had ever laid eyes on each other. He hesitated, still with that smirk before finally reaching out to take my hand in his to play along. 

“So, you’re the one that’s turned my brother into a good boy, ehh?” he finally said in a teasing tone. 

I gave him a tight smile, “No. Your brother did that himself. He worked for it.”

Dieter was beside me now, eyes shifting between Lucien and I with raised brows. 

Lucien gave me an amused look before his eyes shifted to his brother, “Well, good for him. I’ll be shocked if it sticks.”

Dieter scoffed, “Fuck off. You don’t know me…I’ve changed.” 

Lucien rolled his eyes in response before changing the subject. A smug look suddenly forming on his face, “I got a call back on that new Scorsese film. It’s supposed to be a big deal.”

Dieter gave him a very unimpressed stare, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m trying to care, but it’s hard. Besides, they offered me the lead and I turned it down. I have a prior commitment. I already have my Oscar, so whatever.”  

I stifled a laugh as they exchanged a cold glare. Lucien seemed to break first, “Well, I’ll let you two get back to the party. I think mom was looking for you.” 

He walked away without another word, ending the childish pissing match between them for the time being. 

Dieter huffed, “Fucking asshole. Come on.” 

After taking my hand, he pulled me through the tightly packed crowd in search of his mom. I could feel his calming warmth radiating through my skin, but mentally I was somewhere else. Ten years in the past to be specific, where I first met Lucien. 

Lucien and I had been cast as the two leads in a play at one of the local theaters. Our relationship was all consuming, passionate, and toxic. We were right for each other in so many ways, but too broken to make it work. In all the ways that he was sweet, sexy, and charming he was equally as stubborn, selfish, and sometimes cruel. Not that I had been any better. Both of us were guilty of saying things we didn’t mean to purposefully hurt the other. We really did bring out the worst parts of each other. Though I still maintain most of our problems stemmed from his constant drinking. It was only ever bad when he was drinking. It turned him into another person that I eventually learned to hate and resent.

We tried being together several times over the years. It never failed. We would randomly run into each other in some public place, immediately fall back into bed and swear to do better, but it never worked. The same issues always inevitably reared their ugly head. I willingly gave him everything, and he broke me again and again. 

Knowing our history and how easily we always found ourselves back together was igniting a fear in me. We were like magnets. It was damn near impossible for us to stay apart from each other. I ruined many good relationships for him, but I couldn’t do that now. I couldn’t do that to Dieter. 

Dieter was amazing. He was all the things that Lucien was never able to be. He was all of the best parts of Lucien plus more. Dieter gave me his love and affection so willingly. With Lucien, I had to fight for scraps. Each little morsel kept my hope alive just enough to make me believe that he loved me as much as I loved him. Those little morsels were what kept me going for years, but in the end it wasn’t enough. 

As Lucien’s star began to rise in the film industry, we finally hit a wall. He was pictured kissing some model at a Hollywood party, which made it into the tabloids, and inevitably into my hands. It was my last straw. I hadn’t seen him in person since the night I confronted him about it and ended things. He eventually became fairly well known in the film industry. It didn’t take long for him to establish his reputation as a womanizer and Hollywood fuckboy. As far as I knew, he still had that reputation, even if he was now considered to be a D-list actor. 

It was a massive effort to keep myself in the present as Dieter and I mingled with his family and friends. It didn’t help that I kept catching Lucien’s gaze from where he wandered on the outskirts of the crowd. I knew exactly where he was at all times because I could feel his eyes burning into me. It was making me anxious. I knew him and I knew he wasn’t going to make this easy on me. We had played this game too many times. 

I needed a break, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Upon finding a line for the downstairs bathroom, I made my way upstairs since no partygoers were permitted up there. Once I was finally alone, I let out a sigh of relief. Now focusing on my breathing to try and get my heart rate back to normal. Being away from Lucien was doing me wonders, allowing me to ground myself and fully come back to the present. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the same person anymore. I could resist him now.

After finishing up, I opened the door to exit but was suddenly crowded backwards into the small room. My nose was assaulted with the familiar smell of Lucien's musky cologne as he turned to close and lock the door behind him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed. 

“I need to talk to you,” he answered with pleading eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push past him. “I have nothing to say, and I can’t be here with you.”   

He held out his arm, grabbing me around the middle to stop my progress. “Baby, please. I just wanna talk, I swear.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I moved to the opposite side of the room, “Don’t call me that.” 

“Why are you with my brother?” he asked. Not even acknowledging my demand.

I let out a sardonic laugh, “I didn’t know he was your brother.” 

His brows furrowed, “How the fuck did you not know we’re brothers?”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was David.”

His brows raised, “It is…legally. Didn’t he tell you that?”

I rubbed a hand down my face, “You don’t even have the same last name! How the fuck was I supposed to know?” 

He looked amused now, “You didn’t think it odd that we look so similar?” 

I let out a controlled breath, “No, I didn’t actually. I have a type, OK. I know this. I just figured you guys looked alike in the way that Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe look alike…or Javier Bardem and Jeffrey Dean Morgan…or Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen.” 

He chuckled, “You do know that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers, right?” 

I sighed, “No, I didn’t. Maybe you fuckers should keep the same last name to cut back on the confusion.” 

He was smiling at me now, “You’re still feisty I see. God, I’ve missed that.” 

I held up my hand to silence him, “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“Come on honey, you know you miss me.” That ridiculous smirk was back on his lips as I glared at him. 

“So, I take it you haven’t told my brother about me after that little stunt you pulled downstairs.” 

I rolled my eyes, “No. Not by name anyway. All he knows is that I had a problematic ex that fucked me up.”

He sucked air through his teeth, “That’s harsh. You know you can’t blame all that on me.” 

I stared at him for a beat, “No. You’re right. You just added to it and took it over the top.” 

He came closer, causing me to back up against the sink as he looked me over from head to toe. 

“You look beautiful tonight. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you…”

I refused to look his way as he leaned in closer, “I noticed. You need to stop it before someone notices.” 

His curved nose grazed the shell of my ear. I had to force my thighs not to clench together from the contact.

“I miss you ya know? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you…but you’ve been hard to track down. Now I know why.” 

I jerked away from him, “What do you want, Lucien? Your little game isn’t gonna work this time. I’m not falling for it. I love Dieter.”

His eyes widened, “Love? Well, that’s a development. I don’t remember you saying that about any of the others.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Yes. I love him…I’m happy. We’re…getting married.” 

He scoffed, “You realize he’s been married twice already…right? This isn’t new for him.” 

That hit a nerve, and he knew it. 

“That may be true, but he wasn’t sober then. He is now. He’s got his life figured out…unlike you.” 

He feigned offense, “Hey, I went to rehab too you know. I’m trying here. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you I’m sorry.” 

His energy shifted. I couldn’t tell if this was another one of his games or not. I was taken off guard as he turned away from me, seeming almost pensive as he continued. 

“I know…I’m a large part of the reason that we never worked. I was emotionally unavailable, and I let what little fame I managed to gain go to my head. I broke a lot of my promises…you deserved better.”

I let out a steady breath, attempting to control my emotions. I had waited years to hear those words, eventually accepting that I never would. Yet, here we were. 

“Well, I appreciate the apology. Thank you for that.”

He gnawed at his lip for a beat before turning to meet my gaze, “Do you think…maybe we could try again?”

Anger flooded through me. He was giving me whiplash from all the different emotions he was pulling out of me in such a short time period. I shook my head, biting back a disdainful laugh. “You have got to be fucking kidding me right now.”

It was his turn to shake his head, “No. I’m not. I’m still in love with you. It was always you. I was just too stupid to see it.” 

I felt near bursting into tears, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, pain, or something else. “I’m not doing this with you again.” 

His brows pinched together, “You really think he can make you happy? He’s nothing but the knock off version of me. You’re attracted to him because he reminds you of me. Admit it.” 

I scoffed, “You two may look similar, but Dieter is nothing like you. He and I have connected in ways we never will. If you wanna compare…he’s the name brand version that I should have started with. You were a bad decision, a waste of my time and money, and I can’t even get a fucking refund.” 

He pursed his lips, allowing time for the words to sink in. That hit a nerve as intended.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my fiancé is wondering where I am. I can’t have him finding us in here together.”  

I brushed past him to unlock and open the door. He didn’t stop me this time. I felt strangely liberated as I made my way downstairs, never having been able to deny Lucien in that way before. I wasn’t weak anymore. I was the one in control. 

It didn’t take long for me to find Dieter. His tea kettle laugh could be heard over everyone else. All I had to do was follow the sound. As I approached, he wrapped his arm around me and placed a quick kiss on the top of my head before he went back to his conversation. I loved seeing him like this. His happiness from reuniting with his family after so many years of being ostracized over his bad behavior and drug habits helped ground me.

Dieter was attentive as we continued to mingle, making sure to include me in his conversations while keeping physical contact at all times. From the way he kept glancing at me, I knew he could sense the lingering tension from my interaction with his brother. He probably just assumed it was nerves from meeting his family and hopefully didn’t suspect anything, but I knew I would have to tell him the truth. And soon. 

Though I made a point to keep my attention on Dieter, I could still sense Lucien’s presence. It seemed like the harder I tried to ignore him, the more taunting he became. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming louder and more boisterous as the evening went on. With each pass around the room, I found him getting closer and closer. Eventually, I found him chatting in the groups near us, positioning himself where he was in my direct line of sight or close enough behind me that he could brush against me in some way. His proximity was affecting me in ways I didn't want to admit. There was something sort of thrilling about our secret and his audacious behavior that was arousing. However, the moment I looked at Dieter, it all disappeared. He was my life now. He held my heart carefully. Lucien never did anything but smash it into a million pieces. 

I briefly stepped away from Dieter to grab us a bottle of water from the kitchen. As I stood with the refrigerator door open, I was surprised to feel strong hands grip my hips, then slide around my waist to pull me closer. Plump lips trailed down the curve of my neck, causing me to suck in a breath. I knew instantly who it was from the way he touched me and the feel of his mouth. My body betrayed me, reacting on instinct as it melted into his embrace. My mind finally caught up, causing me to abruptly turn and push him away. 

“What the fuck is you’re problem, Lucien?” 

His cocky grin was back, “I’m just reminding you what you’re missing, baby. I can tell; you're questioning yourself. You’re not sure what you want. I’m here to make sure you know your options.” 

I scoffed, “You’re so fucking delusional. Leave me alone.” 

I grabbed a bottle of water, then slammed the door closed as I moved away from him. Once back with Dieter, I felt distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lucien’s lips felt on my body or the way his stupid gold chains used to gently graze against my skin as he moved above me. The thoughts caused that familiar ache to form at the apex of my thighs. I hadn’t seen or sensed Lucien since leaving him in the kitchen, yet he was still having this effect on me.

I suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic at the realization. I didn’t understand what it meant. Dieter noticed, leaning in to ask if I was feeling ok as his hand rubbed soothing circles on my lower back. I nodded, “Yeah, I think I just need some air.” 

He moved to come with me, but I stopped him. “No, you stay and talk to your uncle. I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.” 

I soon found myself on the back patio, inhaling deeply to catch my breath as the chilly night air instantly cooled my burning skin. It was a relief and allowed me to calm the storm that was brewing inside of my mind. The reaction I was having to Lucien was purely physical. It meant nothing. I didn’t love him anymore. This would feel differently if that wasn’t the case. 

Suddenly, I felt that magnetic pull. My attention was drawn to the shadows, seeing the glow of a cigarette before Lucien stepped into the light. He came closer and offered it to me. 

I shook my head, “I don’t smoke anymore.” 

He shrugged, “Suit yourself.” 

There was an awkward silence that stretched between us as he puffed away until the cigarette was done. His mood now seemed a little more somber than it had in the kitchen. 

He finally spoke, “You know…I was just watching you two together…from out here. You’re different with him…and him with you. I can tell you really care about each other…and you lean on each other for support. That’s good. I’m happy you’ve both found that.” 

I was taken aback by his words, but I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not. 

“Maybe one day I’ll find that too. I think it would do me some good.” 

I gave him a soft smile, “It always helps to have a support system.” 

He pursed his lips in thought, “Do you remember how we used to go to the video store and rent like five movies and stay up all night to watch them in bed?” 

I nodded and smiled at the memories. It was some of our happier times together. 

“You used to get so mad at me for eating chips in the bed because of the crumbs, but then I would always find stray peanut m&m’s a week later.”

I laughed, “Chip crumbs are way worse to clean than peanut m&m’s though.” 

He nodded and chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.”

His brows furrowed, “I don’t think I’ve eaten or watched a movie in bed since you left. That was our thing. I can’t do it without you.” 

I sighed, “Lucien, don’t do this. Please.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, “Just wait. I-I-I real- I-I really have to do this…I need to get these unresolved feelings out. I fucked up. A lot. I know this. I was selfish and mentally checked out before the good parts, the house…the kids, the Christmas cards. I’m sorry for that. I just felt so much pressure about it all. I needed to accomplish too much to get us there and I didn’t think I could do it.” 

He moved in closer, cupping my cheek as he gave me that baby cow eye look that always bent me to his whim. I couldn’t move or breathe. 

“I do still love you. I meant that. I would do anything to have you back.” 

He leaned in further and paused, giving me a chance to rebuff him again, but I couldn’t. I was still frozen by him, his words, his voice, his touch…I could feel that small ember that burned for him slowly igniting into a flame as I got lost in his soulful eyes. I felt confused. I couldn’t distinguish if it was my heart or cunt talking, telling me to at least see where things go. 

When I didn’t immediately pull away, he closed the distance between us, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was commanding, confident, and sensual. It stirred something inside me that I admit I never felt with anyone else, not even Dieter. It was feral and uninhibited in almost an unhealthy way. He broke the kiss, both of us panting as our gazes met. My resolve was quickly crumbling, and he knew it. 

That cocky smirk returned to his lips as he took my hand and pulled me toward the side of the house that was hidden in the shadows. It was like my brain had switched into autopilot, entering the submissive state that he loved so much. 

After caging me in against the side of the house, his lips crashed into mine as he dipped lower to grind his hips against me. I could feel his hard length pressing against my center, and God I wanted it. I wanted him.

His lips began to trail downward, nipping and licking down the curve of my neck.

I sighed, attempting to gain my resolve as I managed to say, “Lucien, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.” 

My actions did not match my words as my fingertips knotted in his hair and held him tighter to me. I could feel him smiling against my skin, continuing to place small kisses between his words as he responded. 

“It’s not really happening. We’re just finishing unfinished business in a parallel universe.” 

I chuckled, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.” 

His lips were hovering near mine, smiling as he replied, “I know…that’s why you love me.” 

His words made me think of Dieter. That was always his response too. Lucien’s hand reached for the left strap of my dress, beginning to lower it off my shoulder before I stopped it and forced him to meet my gaze. 

“What about your brother? Your mom? If we do this, it’s gonna hurt them. I don’t think there’s any coming back from that.” 

He shrugged, “I don’t care. They don’t matter to me. I need you in my life. Please.” 

“You think I can hurt them like that?” I asked. His spell over me was quickly fading. 

“You’ll have me, baby. It’ll be ok.” 

As my eyes drifted over his stupidly beautiful face it was now obvious to me, he hadn’t changed. Not really. He might or might not be sober, but he was still a selfish asshole who only ever thought of himself. He still had a way to go before he actually had his shit together and learned to be a better person. 

He obviously couldn’t read the shift in my mood as he leaned in to suck on my neck. 

I moved my lips closer to his ear, “You know I just had sex with your brother less than three hours ago in his old bedroom upstairs.” 

He pulled away with a confused look. “What? You wanna fuck me in my old room too?” 

He was missing the point. This isn’t me. I don’t do this anymore.

“I can still feel his cum dripping out of me. Does that not bother you?” 

His brows furrowed as he turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fucking hell, do you have to be so crass about it? That’s not exactly what I wanna be thinking about right now.” 

I scoffed, “Crass? That’s ironic coming from you…and yes. If that’s what I need to do to get my point across, then so be it. I’m not that person anymore, Lucien. I’m putting an end to this now. I will not do this to Dieter…I love him too much. I’m not ruining my life for you ever again.” 

His jaw clenched, “Who says you would be ruining your life? I’m ready to settle down and have a family, a house… all the things I promised.” 

I had to bite back a laugh, “Then why don’t you do that with one of the five women you already have kids with.”

His brows arched, “Excuse me? I only have two kids.” 

He paused and grimaced, “There may be a third one, but I’m not sure what’s happening with that, yet...” 

My mouth dropped open with that news, “Oh and when were you gonna tell me about that? You’re seriously out here professing your love to me when you’ve knocked up someone else? You’re a real piece of work. You’re obviously still a hot fucking mess. I can’t believe you seriously think you can offer me more than Dieter.” 

He laughed as he crowded my space again, “Is that what it’s about? Money?” 

I pushed him away, “Fuck you. You know that’s not what I mean. He loves me and he makes sure I know it. I don’t have to beg him for affection or an emotional connection. He gives it willingly.”

He rolled his eyes, “Right, he must not give you everything you need if you’re melting in my hands so easily.” 

We were already sliding back into old habits by slinging insults at each other. This is why we didn’t work. 

“Did you miss the part where I said we just had sex? He’s much more attentive than you ever were. I’ve never had to fake it with him.” 

I could tell that was his final straw. There was no questioning Lucien de Leon’s skill in the bedroom. In his mind, he was a sex god. He wasn’t wrong. He was fucking amazing in bed, but he didn’t need to know I thought that. 

His jaw clenched as his face flushed with anger. He looked like he was considering his next words before he spoke. Obviously deciding he was going for maximum damage. 

“I got Delia pregnant.” 

I felt like a bomb had just detonated in my face, swallowing the world around us and leaving nothing but ringing in my ears. Once I regained my senses, all I could manage to get out was a strangled, “What?” 

He had his cocky asshole smile on now, suddenly playing it casual.

“Yeah, I saw her out at a bar several months ago. I wanted to ask her about you… and we just started talking…had one too many drinks…then went back to her place and spent all night fucking. We’ve seen each other on and off a few times since then. So, yeah. I knocked up your best friend.”

I hated him. I hated him for the way he had treated me and for whatever way he was about to treat her even though she should have known better. 

I scoffed, “You’re unbelievable.”

I pushed past him to go back inside. I could hear him apologizing as he followed behind me, realizing he finally took it too far. I was telling him to ‘fuck off’ just as Dieter stepped outside. Lucien and I stopped short at the edge of the patio when we realized Dieter was there, eyes shifting between the two of us as he worked out what he was seeing. 

I sighed, my eyes closing in defeat and shame realizing there was no way to get out of it, but I didn’t want him finding out like this. 

Dieter approached; lips set into a tight line as he continued to look between us. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Lucien looked at me with wide eyes. For once in his life, he was keeping his damn mouth shut. I inhaled deeply; my mouth opened but no words came out. I didn’t know where to start. 

Dieter’s brows furrowed, “You slept with my brother…didn’t you?” 

The look on my face must have told him all he needed to know as he pursed his lips and nodded in understanding. “I mean…it’s not the first time this has happened with him and someone I was dating. So, I shouldn’t be shocked.”

I stepped closer to him, “Dieter, it was years ago. Before I knew you…I didn’t know he was your brother or else I would’ve told you. I mean…I kind of told you, but I didn’t say his name. He’s the one that fucked me up so badly.”

I could see anger flash in his eyes as he shot daggers toward Lucien, realizing all the terrible things he had done to me. “I always knew you were an asshole, but damn. You need some serious help.” 

Lucien had the audacity to look offended by that before Dieter’s attention turned back to me. “And you…how the hell did you not know he was my brother? Everybody knows that.”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was Richard. And you fuckers don’t even have the same last name…You know what, I’m not having this conversation again…” 

Dieter shrugged, “His name is Richard…legally. He didn’t tell you that?”   

I huffed, rubbing at my temple, “Fucking hell, you two. Maybe you’re more alike than I realized.” 

I couldn’t help the giggle that suddenly escaped as I peered up at Lucien, “Your name is actually Dick? That’s fitting…should have stuck with it.” 

Lucien rolled his eyes, “Fuck off with that.” 

Dieter snorted out laughter as he pulled me into his side, “I love you. Your so fucking perfect.” 

I sighed in relief as our gazes met, “You’re not angry with me?” 

He shook his head, “How can I be? It was years ago. Besides, I know how he is…always been more charming than me. All the ladies fall for him at some point. At least you’ve already gotten it out of your system.”  

Lucien suddenly looked disgusted as he muttered, “I can’t fucking believe this…”

My eyes narrowed at him, “Lucien, you really need to get it together…reevaluate your life. And it sounds to me that you have someone else you need to work things out with. Do right by her, please.” 

His brows pinched together as his eyes met mine. An understanding seemed to pass between us. We were done. For good. I gave him a tight smile as I nudged Dieter toward the door to go inside. Lucien didn’t move to follow, but I could feel his eyes on us until I closed the door behind us. 

A short time later, Dieter’s mom announced the news of our engagement to everyone. She didn’t hesitate to pull us in for tight hugs as she congratulated us with a wide toothy smile. I could see Lucien in my periphery, jaw tense with a slight frown on his lips and a bottle of something in hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Even with all the bravado and posturing, I could tell he was hurt. I didn’t doubt that he had feelings for me, but they were never enough to make him change his ways.

After Lucien left, things felt more relaxed. Dieter and I enjoyed the rest of the evening together, smiling happily as we told his parents goodbye to head home. We soon found ourselves snuggled up on the sectional next to the fireplace as we admired our first Christmas tree. Our conversation eventually turned to Lucien and our history. I helped fill in the gaps and answer any questions Dieter had, making sure he knew I was committed to him and him alone. 

“I know he’s your brother, and it may make things harder between you two, but I can never fully forgive him for how he treated me…but I do wish him well. I hope that he can get his life together and find peace.”

Dieter sighed, “He's such an almighty fuck up. And I love him…but he makes it hard. I miss who he used to be. We used to be so close…until the Hollywood lifestyle started getting to us. Everything became a competition and we both sort of spiraled out of control in so many ways. Maybe one day…I’ll get my brother back. I can’t forgive him for everything, but I can try.”

I squeezed him a little tighter, “Maybe you should offer an olive branch? Maybe he would let you help him get sober?”

Dieter pursed his lips in thought, “Yeah…maybe…”

Lucien’s POV

As I sat and watched the love of my life and brother announce their engagement to the family, a lot of thoughts and feelings were swirling around in my head. After seeing them together, I couldn’t deny they were both happy. She had chosen the better man. I accepted it at that moment, deciding it was time to move on. 

Not wanting to stick around and further wallow in my pain, I found myself outside Delia’s small studio apartment with a fresh bottle of bourbon in hand. I had been in denial about her for weeks. After our time together I was beginning to feel…something for her. She wasn’t the one that I wanted in my future, but that didn’t mean she was a bad choice. If she decided to keep the baby, she was going to be part of my future anyway. 

We spent some time discussing things and I assured her I would be supportive if she decided to keep the baby. Personally, I wanted her to. I had a sudden urge to try and make things work with her. As I laid next to her sleeping form on the bed, staring at the small christmas tree illuminated in the corner and nursing a glass of bourbon, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I was surprised to see that it was my brother calling. I sighed, my thumb hovering over ‘ignore’ before I finally decided to answer. 

I quickly stood, moving to the bathroom to avoid waking Delia, then answered. 

“Well, well. Hello brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

I could hear Dieter suck in a breath on the other end of the line, “I uhh…just wanted to check in and make sure you’re good.” 

His words and tone stirred something inside of me. This was the old Dieter talking. The one I cared about before things went to hell between us. It caused a rush of emotions that I had to fight back, inhaling deeply to collect myself before I answered,

“Yeah, I’m good…your girl really knows how to bring a man to his knees, but I’ll live. I can see that she’s happy and that’s all that matters. I’m moving on.”

Dieter chuckled, “That she can do…but that doesn’t mean she…that we…don’t care about your wellbeing. I want you to know that. If you ever decide…to try…to wanna get sober, I wanna help you. I want us to move past all the shit we did to each other and try to be brothers again.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was shocked, but I didn’t hate the idea. Deep down, I did miss my brother. I tried to cover my emotions with a snicker, “Well, isn’t this a Christmas fucking miracle. I guess this means the Bravo brothers are back…Maybe I’ll change my name again.”

Dieter laughed, “Let’s not get too crazy now…one step at a time.”  

My brows furrowed as tears formed in the corners of my eyes, “Do you think you could uhh…send me the information for that rehab place you went to?” 

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah…I’ll send it right over. If you decide you wanna go…I can…take you…if you want?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. I had to clear the lump in my throat before I could respond, “Uh, yeah…I think I’d like that.” 

“Amazing…well…just tell me when you’re ready and I’m there, brother.” 

He sounded like he was fighting his emotions just as much as I was. 

“I will…It was…good to talk to you.”

“You too. Merry Christmas, Lucien.”

A small smile formed on my lips, “Merry Christmas, Dieter.”

After hanging up with Dieter, I didn’t think twice before seeking out the bourbon I had arrived with and pouring it down the drain. I could feel it. This was a turning point for me. A new path that I had to choose to take because I wanted to, not because it was expected. If Dieter could do it, then so could I. It was time I moved on with my life and found happiness too. 

As I snuggled up next to Delia, I could faintly envision our future together. If she was willing to try, then so was I. Maybe she was meant to be my happy ending…with the house, the kids, and the fucking Christmas cards.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thanks for stopping by!

I've gotta say...the speed at which I busted this out (less than 48 hours) has to be a record. And here I was worried it wouldn't be done by Christmas. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Happy holidays!🤣

👉If you're a Dieter lover (like myself) and you're new to my work, I have lots more for you to enjoy HERE. Including my mystical Christmas fic from last year. I've also got a little Frankie thrown on the masterlist too. Happy reading!💜

Tagging those who interacted with the teaser post:

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Credits: MDNI & Support banner by @cafekitsune Christmas Lights by @strangergraphics

[apopcornkernel]

well. here's the newly christened ao3 pseud azhuntress sjfbfjfhfjtnf still need to change the pfp but uploading icons on mobile browser is really annoying

i just realized. im so stupid i can easily solve my dc tagging problem (on ao3) by simply moving all my dc fics to another pseud 😭

[amethystarachnid]

This "Stark Protocol" Tony NEEDS a baby 😍 (or two, a boy and a girl 👀). Is there any possibility of a part 2 of this fanfic?

STARK PROTOCOL - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Part I

ᯓ★ Word count: 7k

ᯓ★ Summary: just when you thought tony's protectiveness couldn't get higher you discover you're pregnant. with twins. Stark twins means chaos.

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing, just one of the babies has a funny poop accident at the end lol

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The discovery hits you on an ordinary Tuesday morning. You’re sitting on the edge of the bathroom tub, staring at the small plastic stick in your hand. The two faint lines staring back at you feel surreal, as if the moment hasn’t quite caught up with reality. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of excitement, shock, and nervous energy coursing through you all at once.

You glance at the test again, as though repeated checks might somehow change the outcome. Positive. You’re pregnant.

A quiet laugh escapes you, tinged with disbelief. You’re going to have a baby. Memories of that night with Tony—the jokes about his overprotectiveness, his not-so-secret admission that he wouldn’t mind having a child with you—rush back, making you grin despite your nerves.

Your first instinct is to tell him immediately, but then you hesitate. This isn’t just any news; this is life-changing, monumental news. Tony deserves to hear it in a way that matches the moment. Something fun. Something unexpected. Something… Stark-level spectacular.

The gears in your mind begin to turn.

You spend the next couple of days meticulously planning, waiting for the right moment to put your plan into action. Tony, blissfully unaware, goes about his usual business, alternating between tinkering in the lab and pampering you like he always does. He doesn’t notice the sly glances you throw his way or the way you seem to be hiding something behind that radiant smile.

When the weekend arrives, you finally set your plan in motion.

The first step is simple: get him out of the penthouse for a few hours. “Why don’t you head to the lab today?” you suggest casually over breakfast, nudging his plate toward him. “I know you’ve been working on that new design.”

Tony narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Of course not,” you reply smoothly, though you can feel the corners of your mouth twitching with amusement. “I just thought you’d enjoy some uninterrupted tinkering time.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but ultimately relents. “Alright, but if I find out you’ve thrown some kind of surprise party in my absence…”

You laugh, waving him off. “Go. Have fun.”

As soon as he’s out the door, you spring into action. The decorations you secretly ordered arrive right on time, and you work quickly to transform the living room. Balloons, banners, and a smattering of baby-themed decorations fill the space, all in neutral colors because, of course, you don’t know the gender yet.

The pièce de résistance is a large box you’ve prepared, carefully decorated and filled with items that will clue Tony in on the big surprise. Inside are baby-sized Iron Man onesies, a pair of tiny booties, a framed sonogram picture you printed at the clinic, and a note that reads: “Stark Protocol: Initiated. ETA: Nine Months.”

You set the box on the coffee table and step back to admire your work. It’s perfect.

When Tony finally returns that afternoon, the moment is ripe for chaos. He walks through the door, his usual smirk in place, but it falters the second he spots the decorations.

“What… is this?” he asks, his eyes darting around the room as he sets his bag down.

You step forward, barely able to contain your excitement. “I thought it was time for a little celebration,” you say, keeping your tone light.

His gaze falls on the box, and curiosity overtakes his initial confusion. “Alright, what’s in the mystery box? This better not be a puppy. You remember what happened last time.”

You laugh, motioning for him to open it. “Just open it, Stark.”

He crosses the room and kneels in front of the box, shooting you a playful glance before lifting the lid. The sight of the onesies stops him in his tracks. He picks one up, holding it between his fingers as though it might evaporate if he isn’t careful. His brows furrow in confusion as he pulls out the tiny booties next, followed by the sonogram picture.

It’s the note, however, that seals the deal.

“Stark Protocol… ETA nine months…” he reads aloud, his voice trailing off. He freezes, and for a moment, you can’t tell if he’s pieced it together. Then, slowly, he looks up at you, his eyes wide.

“Wait. Are you…?”

You nod, your grin widening. “Surprise!”

Tony stares at you for a beat, and then his expression transforms into something you’ve only seen a handful of times. Pure, unfiltered joy spreads across his face as he drops everything back into the box and crosses the room in two strides. He scoops you up into his arms, spinning you around as laughter bubbles out of him.

“Holy— You’re pregnant? We’re having a baby?”

“Yes, Tony,” you say through your laughter, wrapping your arms around his neck. “We’re having a baby.”

When he finally sets you down, his hands remain on your waist, his eyes scanning your face as though trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “This is—wow. Just wow.”

You chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “You’re okay with this, right? I mean, we didn’t exactly plan—”

“Okay with it?” he interrupts, his hands tightening their hold on you. “Sweetheart, I’m more than okay with it. I’m…” He pauses, seemingly at a loss for words, which is a rarity in itself. “I’m thrilled. Over the moon. I’m going to be a dad!”

His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can’t help but laugh again as he pulls you into another hug. “I’m glad you’re happy,” you whisper against his shoulder.

“Happy doesn’t even cover it,” he replies, pulling back to look at you. “You’re carrying the future Stark genius. I mean, this kid is going to be unstoppable.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart swells at his excitement. “Let’s just focus on getting through the next nine months first, okay?”

“Right, right,” he says, nodding eagerly. Then his expression turns serious, and you recognize the telltale signs of Stark Protocol kicking into high gear. “Okay, we need a plan. Prenatal vitamins—are you taking them? Of course you are. I’ll research the best ones. And doctors. We need to find the best OB-GYN in the city. Or the country. Hell, the world. And—”

“Tony,” you interrupt, placing a hand on his chest. “Breathe. We’ve got plenty of time to figure all of that out.”

He exhales sharply, his hands moving to cradle your face. “You’re right. I just—this is big, you know? I want to get it right.”

“You will,” you assure him, leaning into his touch. “We both will.”

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of emotions. Tony oscillates between giddy excitement and meticulous planning, his mind already racing with ideas for how to prepare. You catch him Googling everything from baby-proofing techniques to the latest advancements in stroller technology, and you can’t help but smile at his dedication.

As the evening winds down, the two of you sit on the couch, the box of baby items still sitting on the coffee table as a tangible reminder of what’s to come. Tony’s arm is draped around your shoulders, his other hand resting lightly on your stomach.

“So,” he says, his voice soft, “any idea when this little Stark will be making their grand entrance?”

“Late summer, I think,” you reply, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Perfect timing,” he says with a grin. “Just enough time for me to build a crib. Or a crib-slash-mini-lab. You know, gotta start them early.”

You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “Let’s stick with a regular crib for now.”

“Fine,” he concedes, though you can tell he’s already plotting ways to make it the most high-tech crib on the planet.

As you sit there together, the reality of your new future begins to settle in. There’s still so much to plan, so much to figure out, but for now, you’re content to bask in the moment. With Tony by your side, you know you’re ready for whatever comes next.

And judging by the way he keeps sneaking glances at the sonogram picture, his excitement practically radiating off him, you’re pretty sure he’s ready too.

The transformation in Tony after your pregnancy announcement is nothing short of dramatic. If you thought his overprotectiveness during your period was over the top, it’s clear that was just a warm-up. Now that you’re pregnant, everything you do seems to fall under the Stark Protection Protocol.

From the moment you wake up to the time you go to bed, Tony is there, watching, questioning, and sometimes downright interfering. He’s taken to carrying a notebook around the penthouse to jot down random thoughts about your health, parenting ideas, or anything else he deems critical.

“You shouldn’t lift that,” he says one morning as you reach for a bag of groceries on the counter.

“Tony, it’s a loaf of bread,” you reply, deadpan.

“Still. Bread can be heavier than it looks.”

You roll your eyes but let him take it from you anyway. It’s not worth arguing, and besides, you can’t help but find his doting behavior endearing—if not slightly ridiculous.

His intensity only increases when it comes to what you eat. He’s banned caffeine from the house, stocked the fridge with every conceivable prenatal-friendly food, and personally oversees your meals.

“Sweetheart,” he says one night over dinner, his gaze narrowing as he eyes the slice of pizza on your plate. “You’re eating the crust? The carbs aren’t exactly—”

“Tony,” you interrupt, leveling him with a look. “It’s pizza. I’m pregnant, not on a diet.”

“Right,” he says quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Crust is great. Carbs are fantastic. You want more cheese? Extra cheese?”

Despite his over-the-top nature, it’s clear how much he cares. Every step of the way, he’s there, doing everything in his power to ensure you and the baby are safe and happy.

By the time you reach the third month, you’ve settled into a rhythm. Your energy is starting to return, the morning sickness has eased, and you’re finally beginning to feel like yourself again. Tony, however, remains as vigilant as ever.

When the day of your next doctor’s appointment arrives, Tony is practically vibrating with excitement. He insists on driving you himself, ignoring your protests that the clinic is only ten minutes away.

“You think I’m letting anyone else chauffeur you and Baby Stark?” he scoffs as he opens the car door for you.

“Technically, it’s Baby Stark Junior,” you tease as you slide into the seat.

He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Even better.”

At the clinic, Tony sticks to your side like glue, his hand hovering protectively at your lower back as you check in. Once you’re settled in the examination room, he’s quick to start peppering the doctor with questions.

“How’s she doing? Everything looking good? Are there any new tests she needs? Oh, and what’s the best way to—”

“Tony,” you say, cutting him off with a laugh. “Let the doctor do her job.”

The doctor chuckles, clearly used to nervous dads. “Everything looks great so far,” she says reassuringly. “But let’s take a closer look, shall we?”

She gestures for you to lie back on the examination table. As the ultrasound machine hums to life, you reach for Tony’s hand, squeezing it gently. His eyes are glued to the screen, his expression a mix of awe and curiosity.

At first, everything seems routine. The doctor points out the embryo, noting its size and heartbeat. But then she frowns slightly, leaning closer to the monitor.

“Hmm,” she murmurs, adjusting the angle of the wand.

“What’s ‘hmm’?” Tony asks immediately, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” the doctor says quickly, her tone reassuring. “It’s just… give me a moment.”

The room falls silent as she continues to examine the screen. You glance at Tony, whose brow is furrowed in concern. Then the doctor’s face breaks into a smile.

“Well, this is a surprise,” she says, turning the screen toward you.

“What is it?” you ask, your heart thudding in your chest.

“There’s another embryo,” she says, pointing to a second, smaller shape on the screen. “It looks like you’re having twins.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. You stare at the monitor, trying to process the words. Twins.

Tony’s reaction is the first to break the silence. He lets out a stunned laugh, his free hand running through his hair. “Twins? Are you serious?”

“Very serious,” the doctor says, still smiling. “It’s not uncommon for one embryo to be harder to detect early on. They’re both healthy, though, and everything looks great so far.”

You turn to look at Tony, who seems completely flabbergasted. “We’re having two babies,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze snaps to yours, and a grin slowly spreads across his face. “Two babies,” he repeats, as though saying it out loud will help him believe it. “Holy—wow. Okay. That’s… that’s amazing.”

His joy is contagious, and despite your own shock, you can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, it is.”

The doctor spends a few more minutes explaining what to expect with a twin pregnancy before wrapping up the appointment. As you leave the clinic, Tony’s hand finds yours, his grip warm and steady.

“So,” he says as you walk to the car, “twins, huh?”

“Twins,” you confirm, still feeling a bit dazed.

He stops abruptly, turning to face you. “Do you know what this means?”

“What?” you ask, bracing yourself for whatever over-the-top conclusion he’s about to draw.

“I need to double everything,” he says, his expression deadly serious. “Double the baby-proofing, double the cribs, double the toys—hell, we need to double the size of the penthouse.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Tony, we don’t need to double the size of the penthouse.”

“Sweetheart, we’re having two Stark geniuses. They’ll need space to build their first prototypes.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. “Let’s just get through the pregnancy first, okay?”

“Deal,” he says, pulling you into a hug.

The ride home is filled with excited chatter as Tony starts brainstorming baby names, nursery themes, and potential inventions to make parenting twins easier. His enthusiasm is palpable, and by the time you pull into the garage, you’re already feeling more at ease about the road ahead.

That night, as the two of you lie in bed, Tony’s hand rests protectively on your stomach, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the fabric of your shirt.

“Twins,” he murmurs again, his voice filled with wonder.

“Still wrapping your head around it?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“Completely,” he admits, turning to look at you. “But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You reach up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you. “Me neither.”

As you drift off to sleep, the reality of your growing family feels a little less daunting, and a whole lot more exciting. With Tony by your side, you know you’re ready for whatever challenges—and joys—lie ahead.

The next few days are a whirlwind of excitement and planning. The news of twins has sent Tony into overdrive, and he spends every waking moment researching, organizing, and brainstorming ways to prepare for their arrival. It’s both endearing and exhausting to witness.

“Alright,” Tony announces one evening, dropping onto the couch beside you with a sleek tablet in hand. “We need to talk names. Stark-level names. None of this basic nonsense.”

You laugh, curling your legs under you as you turn to face him. “Tony, we don’t even know the genders yet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We plan for all possibilities. Boy-boy, girl-girl, boy-girl—it’s a Stark family think tank tonight.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Fine. What do you have so far?”

He taps on the tablet and turns the screen toward you. It’s a list of names, complete with notations about their origins, meanings, and even their potential compatibility with the Stark legacy.

“Okay, hear me out,” he begins, pointing to the first name on the list. “For a boy: Leonardo. Strong, classic, nod to genius inventors—da Vinci, obviously.”

You tilt your head, considering it. “Not bad. But does that mean we have to stick with an artist theme for the other one?”

Tony grins, clearly delighted by your engagement. “Exactly what I was thinking. How about Raphael? It’s strong, recognizable, and—”

“—also a ninja turtle,” you finish, raising an eyebrow.

He groans dramatically, tossing the tablet onto the coffee table. “You’re impossible to impress.”

You laugh, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I like Leonardo. We’ll keep it on the list. What about girls?”

His eyes light up as he picks up the tablet again. “Oh, I’ve got some great ones for girls. Athena—powerful, goddess of wisdom. Or Nova—short, sharp, and celestial. Perfect for a Stark.”

You smile softly, feeling a surge of affection for him. Despite his larger-than-life personality, it’s clear how much thought he’s put into this, how much he already loves these babies.

“I like Nova,” you admit, leaning your head against his shoulder. “It’s different, but not too out there.”

Tony wraps an arm around you, his fingers brushing over your arm. “Nova it is,” he murmurs. “And don’t worry, we’ll come up with a few backups. We’ve got time.”

The two of you spend the next hour tossing ideas back and forth, laughing over some of Tony’s more outrageous suggestions (he’s still convinced that Starkette would be a great name) and adding your favorites to the growing list.

As the night winds down, you find yourself stretched out on the couch, Tony’s hand resting lightly on your belly. It’s become a habit of his lately—always finding an excuse to touch the bump, as though he’s already trying to forge a connection with the twins.

“You know they can’t hear you yet, right?” you tease as he leans closer, his lips hovering over your stomach.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, his voice low and affectionate. “It’s never too early for a little bonding time.”

You smile, watching as he begins to speak softly, his words meant for the tiny lives growing inside you.

“Hey, little ones,” he says, his hand gently rubbing your belly. “It’s your dad. I know it’s early, but I just wanted to say hi. I’ve got some pretty big plans for you two, you know. Not too much pressure—just, you know, world domination and all that.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Tony.”

“What?” he says, looking up at you with a playful grin. “They’ve got the Stark genes. It’s inevitable.”

He turns back to your belly, his expression softening. “But seriously, you’re going to have the best mom ever. She’s already taking such good care of you, and she’s going to love you more than you can imagine. I’ll do my part too, don’t worry. Whatever you need, whenever you need it—I’ve got you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you listen to him. Despite his usual bravado, there’s a vulnerability in his voice that takes your breath away.

“Tony,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

He looks up at you, his gaze warm and steady. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” you say simply, unable to find any other words to convey what you’re feeling.

He smiles, leaning up to press a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, sweetheart. And I love them already, more than I ever thought possible.”

The moment stretches between you, filled with a quiet intimacy that needs no words.

Over the next few weeks, Tony’s overprotectiveness reaches new heights. He installs a state-of-the-art air filtration system in the penthouse (“just to be safe”), bans you from lifting anything heavier than a pillow, and insists on driving you everywhere, even if it’s just down the street.

“Tony, I’m pregnant, not made of glass,” you protest one afternoon as he insists on carrying your bag up the stairs.

“Exactly,” he says, not missing a beat. “You’re pregnant. Which means you’re carrying my kids. And that means I’m not taking any chances.”

You sigh, but there’s no arguing with him. And truth be told, you don’t mind the extra attention—especially when it comes with moments of unexpected sweetness.

Like the nights when you’re too tired to cook, and Tony orders your favorite takeout, complete with extra sides “for the cravings.” Or the mornings when he wakes you up with a gentle kiss on your forehead and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice because he read somewhere that vitamin C is good for pregnancy.

One evening, as you’re lying in bed, Tony rests his hand on your belly and begins his nightly ritual of talking to the twins.

“Alright, you two,” he says, his tone mock-stern. “Listen up. No giving your mom a hard time, okay? She’s working overtime keeping you both healthy and happy, and I won’t stand for any nonsense. Got it?”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m sure they’ll be perfect angels, just like their dad.”

“Exactly,” he says, grinning up at you. “They’ll take after me in all the best ways.”

As you drift off to sleep, the sound of Tony’s voice lulls you into a sense of peace. Despite the challenges ahead, you know that with him by your side, you’re ready for whatever the future holds.

It’s a lazy Sunday morning, and the two of you are tangled up in bed. The sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Tony’s head is resting lightly on your stomach, his arms draped around your waist as he chats away to the twins.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” he says, his voice a soft rumble against your skin. “You’re both going to be brilliant, obviously, but maybe one of you can take after your mom in the patience department. Can’t have two of me running around. That’d be chaos.”

You chuckle, your fingers idly brushing through his hair. “Pretty sure one of you is already plenty.”

Tony grins up at you before turning his attention back to your belly. “And listen, kiddo number two—don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. You’re equally as awesome. We’re just trying to figure out who’s going to be the wild one and who’s going to keep things balanced. Flip a coin? Rock-paper-scissors?”

As he continues to talk, a sudden, unexpected sensation flutters through your abdomen. You freeze, your hand stilling in his hair.

“Tony,” you whisper, your voice filled with wonder.

He looks up at you, his brow furrowed. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Shh,” you say, placing a hand over his head. “Just… stay still.”

His eyes widen as he realizes what you mean. He presses his cheek more firmly against your belly, holding his breath.

Then it happens again—a tiny, unmistakable kick.

Tony jerks upright, his face lit with pure excitement. “Was that—did they just—”

You nod, laughing softly. “One of them kicked. First time.”

His grin stretches from ear to ear, and he places his hands on your stomach, as if willing it to happen again. “Hey, little one,” he says, his voice filled with awe. “That was you, wasn’t it? Do it again for your old man. Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

As if on cue, another gentle kick presses against your belly. Tony lets out a laugh, his eyes sparkling. “Did you feel that? That’s my kid in there!”

You laugh, your heart swelling at his joy. “I think they like the sound of your voice.”

“Of course they do,” he says, leaning down to kiss your belly. “They’ve got great taste already.”

From that day on, Tony becomes even more attached to the twins. He talks to them constantly, encouraging them to kick and wiggle for him.

When you reach the fifth month, the day of the gender reveal appointment arrives. Tony is practically bouncing off the walls with anticipation as you drive to the clinic.

“This is it,” he says, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “The moment of truth. Pink or blue. Or both. Or—wait, what if it’s green? Is green a thing?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s definitely not green, Tony. Just breathe, okay?”

At the clinic, the technician leads you into the ultrasound room and begins the scan. Tony’s hand finds yours, his grip warm and reassuring as the screen comes to life.

“Alright,” the technician says with a smile. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

The room falls silent as she moves the wand over your belly, pointing out the shapes of the two tiny babies nestled inside.

“Baby A is a girl,” she announces, her voice cheerful.

Tony’s jaw drops. “A girl?” he repeats, his voice filled with wonder. “I’m gonna have a daughter?”

You squeeze his hand, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Yeah, you are.”

“And Baby B,” the technician continues, “is a boy.”

Tony’s face splits into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. “A boy and a girl. One of each. That’s…” He trails off, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s perfect.”

You laugh softly, wiping at your eyes. “It really is.”

The technician prints out a few pictures for you, and as you leave the clinic, Tony is practically vibrating with excitement.

“So, a girl and a boy,” he says as you slide into the car. “That means we’ve got to step up our name game. No more messing around.”

The next few days are filled with brainstorming sessions. Tony insists on creating a detailed spreadsheet, complete with columns for meanings, origins, and “coolness factor.”

“What about Aurora?” he suggests one evening, his legs stretched out on the couch as he scrolls through baby name websites. “Strong, beautiful, and it means dawn. Fresh start. Kind of poetic, right?”

“I like it,” you admit, adding it to the shortlist. “And for the boy?”

He pauses, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “How about Finn? Short, sharp, and full of character. Plus, it’s got that adventurous vibe.”

“Finn’s good,” you say, smiling. “It’s definitely in the running.”

As the days go by, the names start to take shape. Aurora for your daughter and Finn for your son become the front-runners, but Tony insists on keeping a few backups, “just in case they don’t look like an Aurora or a Finn.”

At night, Tony continues his tradition of talking to your belly, now addressing the twins by name.

“Alright, Aurora and Finn,” he says one evening as you lie in bed. “Here’s the deal. You’ve got the coolest parents ever, so you’d better be ready to live up to the hype. No pressure, though.”

You laugh, your heart swelling with love for him. “No pressure, huh?”

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admits with a grin. “But only because I know they’re going to be amazing.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your belly. “And for the record, your mom’s the real MVP here. She’s doing all the hard work, so you’d better behave when you come out, got it?”

You reach out to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his stubble. “You’re pretty amazing yourself, you know.”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a lot to live up to. These two are going to need a dad who’s as awesome as their mom.”

You smile, pulling him in for a kiss. Despite his over-the-top antics and constant hovering, you wouldn’t trade this time with him for anything. Together, you’re building something incredible—something worth every moment of chaos and excitement.

And as Tony resumes his playful chatter with the twins, you can’t help but feel that the best is yet to come.

The day starts out like any other. You wake up to Tony gently rubbing your belly, as he’s done every morning for the past few weeks. “Morning, Aurora and Finn,” he says, his voice soft and affectionate. “Big day ahead. Don’t give your mom too much trouble, okay?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You say that every morning, and yet they seem to take it as a challenge.”

Tony chuckles, leaning down to kiss your belly before moving to your lips. “Well, they’re Starks. Trouble is in the DNA.”

The day goes on uneventfully, with Tony hovering like a protective shadow as usual. But by the evening, something feels… different. A sharp, cramping sensation ripples through your abdomen, and you freeze mid-step in the kitchen.

“Y/N?” Tony’s voice cuts through your focus, alarmed. He’s at your side in an instant. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it the twins? Are you dying?!”

You groan, clutching the counter. “Tony, I’m not dying. I think… I think this might be it. The contractions—”

Before you can finish, Tony is already in full-blown panic mode. “FRIDAY! Get the hospital on the line. Start the car. Assemble the go-bag. No, wait—I’ve got the go-bag. Do we need snacks? Oh God, did we pack enough socks? What if the babies don’t like socks?”

You clutch his arm, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Tony, breathe. We’ve been through this in the birthing class. This is normal. We have time.”

But calming Tony Stark is like trying to stop a hurricane with a paper fan. Within minutes, he has you bundled into the car, shouting instructions at FRIDAY and speeding toward the hospital like a man on a mission.

At the hospital, the chaos only intensifies. Tony insists on staying by your side through everything, but his version of “helping” is less than helpful.

“Okay, Y/N, deep breaths,” he says, pacing beside the bed as the contractions grow stronger. “In through the nose, out through the mouth. You’re doing great. Amazing. A total rock star. Do you need water? Ice chips? A helicopter to get us out of here?”

You glare at him, clutching the edge of the bed. “Tony, sit down. You’re making me more anxious than the contractions!”

“But I’m helping!” he protests, his hands flailing.

“You’re not! If you really want to help, stop pacing and let me focus!”

Tony freezes, looking like a scolded puppy. “Okay, okay. I’ll just… sit here. Quietly. Not pacing. Totally calm.”

He sits for approximately two seconds before jumping up again. “Is it too hot in here? Too cold? Should I ask the nurse to adjust the thermostat? Where’s the nurse? Why aren’t they here yet?!”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Tony, I swear to God, if you don’t sit down, I’m going to strangle you with the IV tube!”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Right, got it. Sitting. Silent. Definitely not annoying my laboring wife.”

But, of course, Tony Stark being silent is an impossibility. As the hours stretch on and the contractions grow more intense, he tries every trick in the book to distract you from the pain.

“Knock-knock,” he says at one point, grinning nervously.

You glare at him, sweat dripping down your forehead. “Tony, if you tell a joke right now, I will kill you.”

He pales, holding his hands up. “Noted. No jokes. Moving on.”

When the time finally comes to push, Tony’s anxiety reaches a new peak. He hovers by your side, alternately shouting encouragement and panicking over every little thing.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” he says, clutching your hand so tightly it feels like your bones might snap. “You’re amazing. A warrior. A goddess. Wait, is that supposed to happen? Should it look like that? Nurse, is that normal?!”

“Tony!” you shout, your voice a mix of anger and desperation. “Shut up and let me concentrate!”

“Right, shutting up,” he says, his face pale. “Totally shutting up.”

But, of course, he doesn’t. As you bear down, sweat pouring from your body, Tony’s commentary continues unabated.

“Is that a head? I think I see a head. Oh my God, that’s a head! Y/N, you’re doing it! You’re—”

“TONY, I SWEAR TO EVERYTHING HOLY, IF YOU DON’T STOP TALKING, YOU’LL BE THE ONE NEEDING MEDICAL ATTENTION!”

He clamps his mouth shut, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the first baby lets out a piercing cry. The room erupts into a flurry of activity as the nurses clean and wrap the baby, placing her gently in your arms.

“It’s Aurora,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “Tony, it’s her.”

Tony stares, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “She’s… she’s perfect.”

But before he can fully process the moment, the doctor speaks up. “Alright, we’re not done yet. Baby number two is on the way.”

Tony’s face goes from awe to panic in record time. “Wait, what? Already? Can’t we have a break? A halftime show or something?”

“Tony!” you snap, grabbing his arm. “Focus!”

The second delivery is just as chaotic, with Tony oscillating between over-the-top cheerleading and outright panic.

“Come on, Finn!” he shouts, as though the baby can hear him. “You’ve got this, buddy! Just a little further!”

You groan, squeezing his hand hard enough to make him yelp. “Stop coaching him like he’s running a marathon!”

Finally, Finn makes his grand entrance, and the room fills with another cry. Tony’s knees buckle, and for a moment, you think he might actually faint.

“Tony,” you say, your voice weary but amused. “Don’t you dare pass out now.”

He straightens, shaking his head. “I’m good. Totally fine. Just… give me a second.”

When both babies are finally placed in your arms, Tony sits beside you, his eyes glued to their tiny faces.

“They’re… incredible,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re incredible.”

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. “We did it.”

“Yeah,” he says, his arm wrapping around you. “We did.”

Despite the chaos, the pain, and Tony’s near meltdown, it’s a moment you’ll treasure forever. Together, you’ve brought two perfect little lives into the world, and as you sit there, holding your new family, you can’t imagine anything more perfect.

The delivery room is quiet now, save for the soft coos of the twins and the murmurs of the nurses as they clean up. You’re exhausted but overwhelmed with joy as you cradle Aurora and Finn against your chest. Their tiny hands clutch instinctively at the air, and their soft cries tug at your heart. Tony sits beside you, his gaze locked on the babies, his expression a mix of wonder and disbelief.

“Do you… do you want to hold one?” you ask softly, nudging him with your elbow.

He blinks, his eyes snapping up to yours. “Me? Are you sure?”

You laugh gently, though it comes out as more of a croak after hours of labor. “Tony, they’re your kids. Of course, I’m sure.”

Tony’s hands twitch at his sides as though he’s unsure what to do with them. A nurse notices and steps forward, offering to guide him. “Here, Mr. Stark. Just support their head like this.”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding, carefully taking Aurora from you. She’s so tiny in his arms, her pink cheeks puffing out as she lets out a little yawn. Tony looks down at her, his face softening in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Hey there, Aurora,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “I’m… I’m your dad. That’s me. Daddy.”

The word hangs in the air, and you see his eyes glisten with unshed tears. He swallows hard, blinking rapidly as he stares at her. “You’re so small. And perfect. How… how did we do this?”

You reach out, resting your hand on his arm. “I think you had a little help from me.”

He laughs, though it’s thick with emotion, and glances at you. “You’re not wrong.”

Finn lets out a small wail from your chest, and Tony’s attention snaps to him. “Is he okay? What’s wrong? Is he hungry? Cold? Should we call someone?”

“He’s fine,” you assure him, laughing softly. “He’s just letting us know he’s here.”

Tony looks torn, glancing back at Aurora as though he can’t bear to let her go, but eventually, he hands her back to you so he can hold Finn. The moment Finn is in his arms, Tony’s face crumbles again.

“Hey, buddy,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the baby’s tiny hand. “I’m your dad. And I know I’ve got a lot to learn, but I promise I’m going to figure it out. You and your sister—you’re my whole world now.”

Tears spill down his cheeks, and he doesn’t even try to wipe them away. You reach out to touch his hand, your heart swelling at the sight of him holding your son.

“You’re doing great, Tony,” you whisper. “They’re already lucky to have you.”

A few days later, the hospital staff finally gives you the green light to go home. Tony spends the entire morning triple-checking every detail. He inspects the car seats at least a dozen times, adjusts the blankets to make sure they’re just right, and insists on personally carrying both the babies out of the hospital, one in each arm.

“Tony,” you say as you follow him out, balancing yourself carefully. “You do realize the nurses already checked all of this, right?”

“Yeah, well, they didn’t check it Stark-style,” he replies, his tone serious. “These two deserve the best. Nothing but perfection.”

You roll your eyes fondly but let him fuss. After all, his protectiveness is part of what makes him Tony.

The drive home is equally over-the-top. Tony drives at a snail’s pace, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Every bump in the road earns a muttered curse, and he checks the rearview mirror every five seconds to make sure the babies are okay.

“Tony, relax,” you say, trying not to laugh. “They’re fine.”

“Fine?!” he exclaims, glancing at you with wide eyes. “We’re transporting the most precious cargo in the universe! Fine isn’t good enough!”

When you finally make it home, Tony insists on carrying the babies inside himself, refusing to let anyone else touch them. He sets them down gently in their bassinet, adjusting their blankets and staring at them like they might disappear if he looks away.

“They’re really here,” he says softly, more to himself than to you. “We’re parents.”

You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his shoulder. “We are. And you’re already amazing at it.”

The first few days at home are a whirlwind. Tony hovers constantly, watching the babies like a hawk and rushing to their side at the slightest sound. He insists on being involved in everything—feeding, diaper changes, even lullabies.

One night, you find him in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair with Finn cradled in his arms. He’s humming softly, and Finn’s tiny fingers are wrapped around his pinky.

“Tony,” you whisper, leaning against the doorframe. “You should be sleeping.”

He glances up, his expression soft but determined. “I will. Just… not yet. He’s so small, Y/N. What if I miss something?”

“You’re not going to miss anything,” you assure him, walking over to place a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing an incredible job.”

He smiles, though his eyes are tired. “Thanks, but I think he’s the one doing all the hard work. Growing this cute can’t be easy.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Come on, Daddy. Time for bed.”

The nickname makes him pause, his eyes glistening again. “Daddy,” he repeats softly. “I’m still getting used to that.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you whisper, kissing his cheek.

As the days turn into weeks, Tony’s overprotectiveness doesn’t wane. He insists on baby-proofing every inch of the house, even though the twins aren’t even crawling yet. He researches every parenting book he can find, orders the latest baby gadgets, and constantly checks the temperature in the nursery.

But amidst all the chaos, there are quiet, tender moments that make your heart swell. One afternoon, you walk into the living room to find Tony lying on the floor with Aurora on his chest and Finn nestled in the crook of his arm. He’s talking to them softly, telling them about the Avengers, about his workshop, about the stars.

“And one day,” he says, his voice warm and full of love, “you’re going to do amazing things. But for now, just know that I’ve got you. Always.”

You stand in the doorway, watching him with tears in your eyes. Despite all his quirks and eccentricities, Tony Stark is a man who loves deeply and fiercely, and your little family is proof of that.

As you join him on the floor, lying down beside him and resting your head on his shoulder, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you’ll face them together. Because this—this messy, beautiful, chaotic life—is everything you’ve ever wanted. And more.

It starts out like any other quiet afternoon in the Stark household. The twins are happily napping in their bassinet, and for once, the house isn’t filled with Tony’s constant tinkering or FRIDAY’s updates about his latest gadget. You and Tony are stretched out on the couch, enjoying the rare moment of calm.

“I think we’re finally getting the hang of this parenting thing,” Tony says smugly, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Two babies, zero disasters today. We might actually be superheroes after all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Tony, you just jinxed it. Never say something like that out loud.”

“Pfft, jinxes aren’t real,” he says, waving you off. “Besides, look at us. We’re unstoppable. Nothing’s going to—”

Before he can finish his sentence, a piercing cry erupts from the nursery.

“Welp,” you say, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Guess the streak is over.”

Tony follows you down the hall, muttering under his breath about how the universe is conspiring against him. When you reach the nursery, you’re met with the unmistakable smell of disaster.

“Oh no,” Tony says, stopping dead in his tracks. “That’s… that’s not just a cry. That’s a code brown cry.”

You peer into the bassinet, where Finn is wriggling unhappily, his tiny fists flailing. His onesie is stained in a way that makes you immediately regret having eyes.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, covering your nose. “How did this even happen? It’s everywhere!”

Tony takes a cautious step back. “Okay, new plan. You handle Finn, and I’ll supervise from a safe distance.”

You shoot him a glare. “You’re the one who said we’re unstoppable. Get over here and help me.”

Tony groans but reluctantly steps forward, pulling his shirt over his nose like a makeshift mask. “This is why I built suits, you know. To avoid situations like this.”

Together, you carefully lift Finn out of the bassinet, trying not to make the mess worse. But it’s no use. The more you move him, the more it seems to spread.

“Okay,” Tony says, his voice muffled by his shirt. “We need a plan. You grab the wipes, I’ll get the clean onesie. And maybe a hazmat suit?”

“Tony, just grab the diaper bag,” you say, exasperated.

He scrambles to comply, but in his rush, he knocks over a bottle of baby powder, which explodes into a cloud of white dust.

“Perfect,” you mutter, coughing as the powder settles over everything. “Now it smells like a powdery poop disaster.”

Tony hands you the wipes, looking sheepish. “At least it’s better than just poop?”

You manage to get Finn onto the changing table, but the moment you open his diaper, he decides to up the ante.

“Tony, grab a—!”

Too late. A tiny fountain arcs into the air, catching both of you completely off guard. You shriek, trying to shield yourself, while Tony flails wildly, yelling, “Abort mission! Abort mission!”

By the time the chaos subsides, you’re both covered in a mixture of baby powder and… other substances you’d rather not think about. Finn, meanwhile, seems perfectly content, cooing happily as though nothing happened.

“This,” Tony says, pointing at the baby, “is why they don’t make movies about superhero dads. No one would believe it.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the mess. “Welcome to parenthood, Mr. Stark.”

Once Finn is cleaned up and dressed in a fresh onesie, you collapse onto the couch, exhausted. Tony joins you a moment later, his hair still dusted with baby powder.

“Well,” he says, draping an arm around your shoulders. “That was a new low for me. And I’ve done a lot of embarrassing things.”

“At least we survived,” you say, leaning into him. “Barely.”

He grins, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You know, I think this whole parenting thing might actually be tougher than saving the world.”

“Definitely messier,” you agree.

As if on cue, Aurora’s cry echoes from the nursery, signaling the start of the next adventure. Tony groans, burying his face in his hands.

“I’ll get her,” you say, patting his knee.

But Tony grabs your hand, pulling you back. “No, no, I’ve got this one. Stark to the rescue.”

You watch as he marches down the hall, determination written all over his face. Moments later, you hear him exclaim, “Oh come on! How is this even possible?!”

You burst out laughing, knowing that life with Tony and the twins will never, ever be boring.

[souperbloom]

Tours over!! We def need a blurb of the boys coming home. Preferably Ash I swear I’ve read everything written about Ashton :/

thank you for the request, friend! i do agree, we are in dire need of some Ash homecoming content. how about a smutty little reunion? ;0

hope you enjoy <3

————————

honey, i’m home! [A.I.]

🏠 i’m biased towards this photo because i was there, teehee

boyfriend!ash. a reunion, if you will. :)

after a long three months away on tour, your boyfriend Ashton finally comes home.

CONTENT WARNINGS: references to weed, suggestive language, pet names.

WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Today was the day.

After three months of an empty couch, an unraided fridge, and the divot on the right side of your mattress growing cold, your boyfriend Ashton was finally coming home.

Today was the fuckin’ day.

You sat on the edge of your seat, literally, barely taking up any space on the couch cushions. Your feet were bolted to the floor, practically ready to blast off into space.

Or, to jump up and greet him.

You’d check your phone every now and then, watching the hours tick by growing later and later, and occasionally seeing your lover’s name light up the screen.

There have been a few updates on his ETA, random photos from his camera roll of the two of you, and even some mindless, lovesick babbling. Rambling on about how much he missed you and ‘couldn’t wait to come home to see your sweet face.’

Each time his name popped up, you’d smile; feeling nothing short of a kid in a candy store. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face not only after seeing you, but after seeing what you had planned.

You had decided to make Ashton’s homecoming an event, of sorts. A dreamy date night filled with all of his favorite things that you were sure he was missing.

And, of course, being that you knew him better than anyone in this world, you made sure to think of everything.

A fresh bouquet of daisies on the kitchen table, straight from his favorite farmer’s market. A joint, rolled with love, for the two of you to share and smoke out on your balcony. A fridge stocked full of his favorite snacks and foods.

And lastly, the pièce de résistance of it all.

A few days prior, you had gone out shopping on your own at the little boutiques down on Rodeo. You found yourself wandering into a quaint lingerie shop, only to walk out with the most beautiful, most expensive, two-piece set that ever graced their mannequins.

It was an emerald green two-piece, covered in floral lace and complete with its own matching silk slip. You thought it was perfect for the comfortable, homesick-curing aura you were trying to create around you and Ashton’s home.

And green is Ashton’s favorite color, after all.

After a few more moments of quiet, the mellow sounds of classic rock streaming softly out of your speaker, your phone lights up.

ASHTON ❥:

Be home in 5. Love you so much.

Can’t wait 2 see you. xo

It took everything in you not to let out a piercingly loud girlish squeal, rocking back and forth on the couch and clutching your phone like it was just going to just fly right out of your hands. But you didn’t want risk your neighbors thinking you were being attacked—

You didn’t want a repeat of the last time Ashton made you scream.

With Ashton’s messages still shining on your screen, you toss your phone to the side. You decide to stand up from your permanent spot on the couch, and do one last run around of the house to make sure everything was perfect, and in order.

The flowers were still on the kitchen table, yes. The sweets and fresh fruits were all still in the fridge, right where you had left them. Your bed was still made, thank God, and the stick of incense you had lit still had about an hour of life left in it.

Safe to say, everything you had thought of was perfect.

As you walk through the halls of your spacious, yet lived in home, you hear a familiar sound.

A click.

Then, another.

A squeak.

And one last sound that made your heart start to flutter.

"Honey, I’m home!"

Without a second to think, you’re rushing towards the front door. Your socked feet padded along the hardwood floors as you ran, cutting corners and slipping along.

"Baby? I hear you…"

The sweet sound of his voice grew louder, your heart just ready to burst and pop out of your throat into fireworks. You round the corner to the foyer—

And there he was.

"Ashton!" You gleam, finally seeing him for the first time since he had started his journey out of the country and across the world.

He sported unkempt, overgrown curls and a black trench coat, that was tugged off slightly from the heavy duffle bags that sat on his broad shoulders.

It was almost impossible for you not to swoon.

You barrel past his bags as he drops them on the floor, jumping into his arms and practically lifting yourself off of the ground.

"Hi, sweetheart," he hums into your ear with a voice like honey, as your body clings onto his, "I missed you so fuckin’ much."

He holds you tightly, his cologne hitting your nose almost instantly with the way you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

"I missed you more, baby— fuck— I missed you." Your words are slightly muffled by the material of his coat, not long before he’s pulling away from the hug to get a better look at you.

"Look at you. Fuckin’ look at my girl. Thought I was dreaming when I saw this sweet face again," he trails off, letting his eyes linger behind your head to admire all of the little sweet nothings you had prepared for him, "Is this all for me?"

"Mhm, it is. You are definitely not dreaming," you hum, proudly.

Ashton pulls you in for one last squeeze, then places a sloppy kiss upon your lips.

"I am the luckiest guy in the world," he sighs, adjusting his arms around you, "Think I gotta get a better look at all the stuff my girl did f’me."

"Come in, stay a while." You try your hand at biting back a smile as you pull away from him, but can’t seem to contain the elated expression plastered on your face.

He shrugs off his coat, hanging it on the hook next to yours. Inhaling deeply, he smiles, "Do I smell Paolo Santo?"

"Mhmmm." Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, with your arms behind your back as you swing impatiently from side to side.

"Good choice," he nods.

"Your favorite."

With all of his bags now on the floor, and his Doc Martens still laced to his ankles, he quietly steps through the foyer to the kitchen. You watch from behind him through adoring eyes, loving every second of watching him discover each and every little detail.

"Daisies—?" He tosses you a sweet look over his shoulder, but stops in his tracks as his eyes meet yours.

He scans down your frame, finally taking in what you had been waiting for. The emerald green silk slip, in all of its glory.

"Holy shit—" he stops himself again, turning all the way around to face you.

"Well, whatdaya’ think of my outfit?" You ask, fanning out your hands and showing off the full extent of the dress and all of its means of hugging your curves.

His jaw hangs open slightly, before he crosses his arms over his chest. That expression of shock melts into a cheeky smile.

"Honestly, now I’m thinking about what it’s gonna look like on the floor."

He starts to walk towards you, his taller frame looming over you as you tilt your head to look at him with a pout.

"On the floor, Ash? This was expensive!"

When his hands find your waist, you freeze. His fingertips dance along the silky materiel that dressed your hips, pulling you into him.

"Money can buy you a new one, sweetheart. But— I’m afraid no money can buy how much I’ve been missing you."

Your lips push to the side, now feeling slightly electric at the feeling of his gentle touch.

"Didn’t know you missed me that much."

"No?" He quips, "Well then why don’t I show you? Show you just how much I’ve been missin’ ya."

Something inside of you snaps, the twinkle in his eyes making you giddy— you reach out to him, slithering your arms around his neck to pull him into you.

When his lips land on yours you sigh, like a forty pound weight being lifted off of your shoulders. You missed the sweetness of his kiss; the taste of his lips, and tongue on yours.

You were a puzzle that had found its missing piece. Whole again.

Ashton’s hands travel down your sides, greedily wandering across each and every part of you that he had been deprived of in the last three months.

The promise ring you had gifted him right before he left was now right back to its rightful owner, scorching your flesh in all of the places you had been dying for him to touch. To see. To have again.

His hands had now found their way to your ass, making you shiver.

"Jump." He mumbles messily into your lips.

You oblige, jumping up and locking your ankles around the small of his back.

As the kiss between you grows hungry, Ashton starts to move you. He walks you past the threshold of the kitchen, and over to the island.

You had already started to feel that familiar, swirling feeling you get whenever he’s around you; let alone the feelings that came with him so effortlessly picking you up and walking around the house with you in his arms.

He releases your lips, brushing his nose against yours as he he starts to walk the both of you closer to the marble countertop.

"I’ve been waitin’ so long to take care of you properly, sweetheart— But at this rate, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it t’ the bedroom."

As he speaks, he lowers you gently onto the cool marble. You let out a giggle at his eagerness. "I don’t mind, baby. You can have me anytime, any place. I’m all yours."

His hands find your waist again, sliding you forward into his hips. He knocks his forehead against your own, before granting you a quick kiss.

"You’re all mine?" He asks again, as if your words of confirmation weren’t enough for him the first time.

"Yes, Ash. I’m all yours."

His lips find their way to your jaw, starting a trail of gentle kisses down towards the nape of your neck. He stays there for a moment, tenderly nipping at the fragile flesh.

"’Don’t know who I bribed in heaven to get sent down an angel as perfect as you— ‘Don’t know how I got so lucky..."

He kisses your neck again as your hands get lost in his lush curls. You can’t help but tug down on them, just the way he likes it.

With one final kiss at your collarbone, he pops his head back up to meet you. But as he makes his way up, something on the counter catches his eye.

His eyebrow quirks, as he reaches behind you and picks up the joint you had rolled for him.

"Now, what’s all this?" He asks, waving the pre-roll in front of your face with a mischievous smirk.

"Just a little somethin’ special," you grin, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, "But we can worry about that later…"

He lets out a breathy laugh, putting the joint down in it’s spot the counter and reaching back up to cup your cheeks with his blistered, earthy palms.

"You really thought of everything didn’t you— my sweet girl."

Your cheeks tinge pink, unable to control your urges as you plant another big kiss onto his soft lips.

"Welcome home, Ashton."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Meghan's red dress devolution by u/Hermes_Blanket

Meghan's red dress devolution There's no denying that red is a great color on Meghan. But what's going on with her dresses? Apparently she knew how to pick a dress before she joined the BRF, but has now lost the plot.She started out with a beautifully fitted red dress for an appearance on the Today Show in July 2016. The length is perfect for her. It shows skin, but not too much. She's 35 here.https://ift.tt/SjX9DRw in Tonga in October 2018. She's two months pregnant here and already seems to have a teeny bump to hold. The dress is faultless. (ETA: Faultless, except it had the tag still hanging from the hem! Thanks to the sinners who caught that. See photo in comments.)https://ift.tt/Fw0P8om in Morocco in February 2019, wearing a custom Valentino. Elegant maternity wear, no problems here.https://ift.tt/QBTZayd she is at the Mountbatten Music Festival in 2020. Beautiful dress. Interesting cape detail, the right length, and the shoes are a perfect match.https://ift.tt/Qi7kSHj year later, after Megxit -- what a difference a year makes! The terrible bust, the too-tight back, the ridiculous train. Overly flashy and bare for an serious event honoring veterans. And the shoes don't match.https://ift.tt/0sA4Jm1, 2024. She's 42 years old. Too much exposed flesh in a country where most women cover up more, bad underpinnings that make her abdomen look lumpy, and the spaghetti straps aren't flattering to her. This is an evening dress, and she wore it speaking at a Women in Leadership event. Inappropriate.https://ift.tt/FeMH1aD finally, the coup de grace, the return of the dress with the inverted nipples without the overskirt. Again, a ton of exposed flesh, plus a bad fit. Hey, at least the shoes match this time.https://ift.tt/FujhaSR post link: https://ift.tt/9VL0Qld author: Hermes_Blanket submitted: October 31, 2024 at 12:15AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[jonlancom]

El día que la radio anunció una nueva etapa

Lo que más me ha chocado al reflexionar sobre nuestra historia reciente es cómo la gente vivió el fin de ETA. Ese momento tan esperado, casi inimaginable, llegó como llegan las grandes noticias en este país: a través de la radio.

Imagino a esas personas escuchando con atención, a la espera de las palabras que podrían cambiarlo todo. Y entonces, ahí estaba: “ETA ha declarado el cese definitivo de la actividad armada.” Fueron palabras que no solo anunciaban el final de una época de miedo, sino que también marcaban un nuevo capítulo en la democracia de España.

Pero lo que más me impresiona es cómo la radio acompañó a la gente en ese día histórico. Los programas se llenaron de análisis, debates y testimonios en tiempo real. Voces emocionadas que llamaban a contar cómo vivían ese momento; expertos que intentaban poner en perspectiva lo que significaba; periodistas que llevaban años cubriendo atentados y negociaciones, explicando el contexto con una mezcla de alivio y escepticismo. Era como si toda una sociedad intentara asimilar juntas la noticia, unida por las ondas de la radio.

Algunos programas decidieron centrarse en la memoria, recordando a las víctimas y subrayando que, aunque el miedo terminaba, la justicia debía continuar. Otros abrieron los micrófonos a oyentes de todas partes, que compartían historias de dolor, resistencia y esperanza. Era emocionante escuchar cómo la radio daba voz a quienes habían sufrido en silencio y ahora podían compartir sus sentimientos en un espacio colectivo.

Lo que quedó grabado en la memoria no fue solo el contenido de las palabras, sino también la cercanía del medio. La radio nos enseñó que las grandes noticias no siempre llegan con llamadas de atención, sino con conversaciones humanas que nos acompañan en el proceso de entenderlas. Y ese día, más que nunca, la radio se convirtió en un testigo indispensable de nuestra historia como país.

[daviidpuertaa]

LA IMPORTANCIA DE LA RADIO

En España hemos vivido muchos momentos que despiertan interés en la sociedad. Son momentos que aún llevamos en nuestras mentes, ya sea por recordarlo o por haberlo visto en imágenes y vídeos. También hemos podido escucharlo en la radio.

Aunque al principio, <<en la radio no había mañanas>>, actualmente hay varias franjas horarias en las que puedes escuchar lo que ha sucedido. El horario de mañanas es, según algunos, una ventaja. Con la frase <<4:05, 3:05 en Canarias, saludos>>, empiezan a organizar el programa, ya que <<las mañanas es donde se pone en marcha todo>>. Ángels Barceló cuenta que el día empieza temprano porque hay mucha información desde el principio, como <<entrevistas que aparecen en los periódicos>>.

Los momentos de interés, que existen en nuestras vidas y nuestras memorias, son muchos. En Las voces de la radio nos cuentan cómo fueron sus experiencias al informar sobre lo más importante. El 11 de marzo de 2004 hubo un atentado en las vías del ave, con un sonido que <<no se puede comparar con nada>>. Entre las personas que vivieron muy cerca ese momento, está el oyente Miguel Leal explicando cuál fue su reacción, tras dejar a dos chicas en la misma estación del atentado.

Otro suceso importante fue el cese definitivo de ETA. Durante el tiempo que ellos amenazaban y asesinaban a otras personas, España estuvo muy pendiente de lo que pudiese pasar. Así fue, también, con el secuestro de Miguel Ángel Blanco. Muchos no lo podían creer, porque habían liberado a una persona y después secuestraban a otro. El final de esta época fue felicidad para todos, y algunos locutores de radio, como Ángels Barceló, quisieron dar esa noticia.

En la radio, no solo informan sobre noticias tan extremas. También nos cuentan <<cómo se vive una noche electoral en la radio>>. Algunos dicen que se vive <<con emoción>> y <<con incertidumbre>>. Otro tema, que no es negativo, es el fútbol. En Las voces de la radio, nos enseñan cómo es el proceso de locución en un partido.

Personalmente, creo que la radio es un muy buen medio para expresar y contar lo que está sucediendo. No importa la hora en la que pase algo importante, porque la radio lo podrá comunicar. A pesar de nuestras posibles opiniones sobre la radio, en las que pensamos que cada vez se escuchan menos las noticias, todavía hay mucha gente que prefiere el audio de la radio al vídeo de la televisión. También es cierto, que la radio tiene sus ventajas para los locutores. Una de ellas, por ejemplo, es que el oyente no te ve y puede imaginarte mientras hablas.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

hey I really love your writing and I am missing it so much. Do you plan to update Pas de deux soon? And Technicality? I really love your ideas and those stories are so unique and great in KimChay fandom. I haven't read anything similar and I am so excited for new updates. Your storytelling is amazing, I love the way you describe Kim taking care of himself in these two fics.

Hello! I'm glad you're enjoying my writing, and I do plan to update both of those stories! I just don't know when. I'm a full time nursing student going through finals right now, and I'm about to enter my last (and hardest) semester, so I probably won't have the time/energy to dedicate to writing. I'm doing my best to still get things posted, but y'know. Life is life-ing.

I have some other smaller things in the works that don't need as much planning as those two fics, so I'll still have things coming, but I don't have any kind of ETA on those at the moment, sorry!

[kimbureh]

TBB S2E08 Truth and Consequences

Oh this episode was narratively just so satisfying. After the season 1 finale, my prediction was that Tech would leave the Batch first, but now with the Clone Rights subplot introduced it makes total sense for Echo to leave first. His strong idealism just finds a better home with Rex and the Clone Cause instead of aimlessly drifting through the galaxy.

Honestly, I am thrilled to see the series slowly dissolve the squad. I can imagine the reasons why Tech would eventually leave, I'm not so sure how they would pull it off with Wrecker (ETA: scratch that, I can totally see it with Wrecker; dude became a Wookie fast in that one episode). In the end, I guess it's just Hunter and Omega, and then interesting things can happen.

Especially with Rampart now being set up as a foil for Crosshair; when Rampart is arrested in the senate, he claims to have only followed orders. Which sounds suspiciously similar to Crosshair's Soldiers Follow Orders. The Imperator discards of his Admiral, Crosshair was left behind by his squad. It would be interesting to see each of them deal with that shame in their own way, though I don't expect Rampart to return before season 3 (should it ever happen).

Echo's departure weakens the Batch considerably, so far having filled in as Hunter's de facto second-in-command in Crosshair's place, and given that this episode sits at the midpoint of the season, the pace will pick up and the squad can unravel quickly from here on.

With Echo and Crosshair each representing two diametrically opposed ends of the ideological spectrum, and now both of them separated from the squad, I would be thrilled to see some interactions between them. Perhaps during a mission Echo is running for Rex. That would be delicious. Imagine hating yourself so much you need to partially divert that hatred onto a (quite literally) faceless group of people you call 'Regs' and look down on for something that is essentially indistinguishable from your own essence of being. And then you run into somebody who fights for Clone Rights, and hey, you're a Clone too, regardless of how much you tried to separate yourself from them, this guy is fighting for your rights too, even though you're a mean asshole. That's Echo and Crosshair. That's the dynamic I wanna see.

(pls no season 2 spoilers, I haven't fully watched it yet)

[translucent-serendipity]

13 de marzo 2024.

Uno. Efeméride. 20 años del asesinato de Ángel Berrueta a manos de un policía nacional por negarse el primero a colgar un cartel en su panadería que acusara a ETA de los atentados del 11M cometidos por Al Qaeda. O el inicio de la forma más burda de las fake news, hoy pan de cada día.

Dos. Mi cara tras una captura de un post de Ègida | Colectivo de defensa anarquista. Intento articular los días en semanas y simular que sigo tranquila y pautadamente el calendario. Pero aquí estoy, un miércoles a la una de la mañana acabando de cenar, encajando las horas como piezas de tetris, como quien juega al cuatro en ralla, ¿cómo no perder perspectiva? ... No lo sé. Ceno y canto. Aigua neu, res d'això és meu. Canto. Después de la tormenta no vendrá la calma; vendrá la insurrección. Suspiro y canto y suspiro.

Tres. Anoche de madrugada desalojaron L'Obrera (¿recordáis? en noviembre lograron parar aquél otro intento de desahucio...). Esta misma mañana tenían la retro destrozando el local. Cuando quieren, sí que van rápidos los asuntos de palacio. En fin. Como compartían hoy la gentita de la PAHC de Sabadell: "Los sitios como la Obrera no están sujetos a un espacio físico: Somos todas. Es la chispa de rabia y amor en nuestros corazones, y eso no se puede detener".

Cuatro. El mural de Puig Antich que se marcó hace un par de semanas @RocBlackBlock (algo así era) en Vallcarca, bajo una cita que compartía @undesgraciat hace unas horas: "Solo nosotras nos salvaremos a nosotras mismas. Una insurrección nunca arreglará las cosas de un día para otro. la revolución siempre ha sido un camino largo, de hecho, un camino sin final".

Cinco. Por carnaval la c nos puso una canción de estas muchachas gallegas, las Fillas de Cassandra. Las busqué de nuevo hace unos días y bof, qué chulada. Hoy estoy con esta en bucle. A mis tataravoas no sé, pero ojalá haber conocido a mi abuela paterna. Pienso a menudo en ella. Sin creer yo en la Familia ni nada de eso. Pero debió de ser una persona de la que aprender tantísimo. Me gusta pensar que hubiéramos sido buenas amigas.

...

a ver si el wifi prácticamente nulo de este rincón de casa tira esto palante o si la publicación se desvanece por el camino...

¡ay! he estrenado las bragas menstruales :)

[yukitozinho]

get up - the 2nd mini album, by newjeans.

🐰 data de lançamento: 21 de junho de 2023. 🐰 produzido por: 250, Park Jin-su, Frankie Scoca... 🐰 faixas:

1. New Jeans 2. Super Shy 3. ETA 4. Cool with You 5. Get Up 6. ASAP.

O tão aguardado retorno da sensação sul-coreana New Jeans surpreende pela versatilidade, enquanto peca pela simplicidade, por ser tão curto e com uma certa preguiça diante da falta de inovação dos produtores, e mesmo assim, as garotas brilham com os vocais nessas novas faixas.

Eu estava levemente ansioso por esse retorno. Desde que o New Jeans lançou uma das minhas faixas favoritas, Ditto, no final de dezembro do ano passado, eu fiquei empolgado por mais músicas das garotas gerenciadas por Min Hee-jin, que encabeçou um dos meus grupos favoritos, o f(x), enquanto estava na SM Entertainment. Após Zero — uma música comercial para a Coca-Cola — e o single OMG, muito se especulava e esperava sobre o comeback das cinco garotas.

Pois aqui estamos, com Get Up, que teve um grande planejamento, digno de um álbum de estúdio, e que me decepcionou levemente por não cumprir minhas expectativas que foram geradas por esse planejamento estrondoso. Com inúmeros clipes, spoilers nas redes sociais, o New Jeans entrega o mesmo de sempre, porém de uma forma reduzida, levando em conta que o álbum tem doze minutos — duração menor que o meu banho.

O álbum abre com a faixa que dá nome ao grupo, New Jeans, lançada como pre-release com a próxima faixa, Super Shy, duas semanas antes do lançamento do álbum. Em um synthpop simplista e que já se tornou uma marca registrada do grupo, essa introdução funciona perfeitamente para criar o clima que vai percorrer o álbum. Em uma espécie de metalinguagem, NewJeans se reapresenta após o primeiro mini-álbum dizendo “Olha, é um novo eu / Mudamos, quem são essas? / Olhe para nós, New Jeans / Tão fresco, tão limpo.”, deixando uma grande expectativa do que está por vir. Porém, a música cai na mesmice de forma que não altera nada no instrumental, como inserções mais sintéticas ou o modo de cantar das meninas, que fazem um bom trabalho em manter o tom em quase dois minutos.

Um dos maiores investimentos desse álbum foi sem dúvida no marketing. New Jeans tem um clipe onde as garotas se transformam nas Meninas Superpoderosas, desenho clássico e que marcou uma geração e que explicita essa mudança entre o primeiro álbum e esse, porém sem perder a essência e estética característica do grupo. O clipe é gracioso e vale muito a pena conferir.

🐰 + clipe de New Jeans.

Apesar de New Jeans não ser nada de novo na discografia das meninas ou até mesmo no álbum, é uma música muito deliciosa e que vale a pena ser escutada. Com certeza, essa introdução não foi colocada aqui à toa, o que nós podemos ver bem a partir da próxima faixa.

Super Shy foi o primeiro pre-release oficial do álbum, e acompanhado da b-side do single — e intro do álbum —, volta às tão marcantes origens que conquistaram o coração do mundo. O instrumental etéreo é um grande destaque, Super Shy se encontra entre a melancolia de Ditto e a felicidade das primeiras faixas das meninas. O rap melódico de Hyein é incrível e dá um tom charmoso e diferente à canção. O refrão mantém a tradição simplista na questão de produção do grupo. A transição da intro para Super Shy é uma coisa a se destacar, pois, elas casam perfeitamente bem e foi um grande acerto em manter o clima que a intro constrói.

Diferente do resto do álbum, Super Shy é a única música a qual eu não sinto tanto problema na faixa ser curta, talvez por ela ter mais camadas do que as outras e ser mais bem construída que as outras. Como o último refrão que utiliza de uma robotizada divertidíssima que diferencia dos primeiros, reforçando o quão viciante esse refrão é. O clipe, assim como a faixa, é divertido e jovem. Gravado em Portugal, com cenários em cores vívidas e com flash mobs dignos de fazer um vídeo dançando no TikTok, mantém a essência das garotas anteriormente vista em Attention e Hype Boy, por exemplo.

🐰 + clipe de Super Shy.

Em um bubblegum synth-pop que poderia ser feito pelo Girls’ Generation nos anos 2000, caso tivesse uma produção mais exagerada, New Jeans acerta no alvo ao lançar essa faixa que fala sobre ser tímida demais para confessar seu amor e para o seu crush notar. Gee mandou abraços!

ETA é o maior destaque do álbum justamente por se afastar de tudo que o NewJeans fez antes. Em um dance-pop divertido, meio funky, meio quirky — incomum em uma forma interessante —, com buzinas de ar no instrumental e efeitos de voz que parecem ter saído de qualquer música pop da década passada que usou e abusou desses efeitos e que conquistam demais. Mesmo assim, não fica repetitivo demais — como Super Shy e New Jeans —por ter uma quebra no pré-refrão, cantado em coreano e sem todos esses efeitos divertidos, dando um tom mais sério. Não é à toa que essa faixa é a faixa-título do álbum, pois de fato, é a melhor e mais experimental que o NewJeans até agora.

O clipe, gravado totalmente no iPhone 14 Pro, conta a história da letra. Uma amiga das garotas — Eva, como revelado no clipe — está sendo corna e as garotas resolvem avisá-la e fazer uma música INTEIRA sobre isso. Não poderia ser melhor, não é? Eu adoro como os clipes do NewJeans mantém essa estética delas serem garotas quaisquer, se divertindo, sendo jovens e bonitas. É um clipe belíssimo e uma grande publicidade para a Apple, outro grande acerto desse álbum.

🐰 + clipe de ETA.

Mesmo assim, em um defeito que percorre o álbum inteiro, ETA é curta demais e me deixou com um enorme gostinho de quero mais. Uma ponte, talvez? Não sei. Algo aqui faltou e me incomodou, mas tenho certeza de que vou alcançar muitos scrobbles em meu Last.fm rapidamente, não só pela música ser muito divertida, mas pela sua duração que chega a ser ridícula.

Cool with You foi uma faixa que me decepcionei um pouquinho, justamente por não ter sido tão explorada sonoramente. O instrumental é simples demais e chega a me incomodar, tal qual as duas primeiras faixas do álbum. É uma música delicada e merecia mais apreço do que realmente teve. É o mais próximo de ballad, mesmo ela sendo uma música de influência do UK garage, que temos nesse álbum, e poderia justamente ser MAIOR! Nenhuma música nesse álbum é grande, mas eu não consigo aceitar. O pré-refrão é magnífico e de novo, Hyein dá o seu toque especial e que me faz sorrir. As harmonias e vocais estão no ponto nessa faixa.Porém, a música não se sustenta no refrão que repete o título da música inúmeras vezes. De novo, o último refrão adiciona mais coisas, construindo um clímax que deixa aquele gosto de quero mais, que não é tão bom quanto deveria. COMO ESSA FAIXA SÓ TEM 2:30 DE DURAÇÃO?

Os clipes — porque são duas partes, assim como o de Ditto — são incríveis e contam a história entre o amor proibido de Eros e Psiquê com participação de Jung Hoyeon, de Squid Game, e Tony Leung, de Chungking Express. Jung Hoyeon estrela como Eros, Micol Vela como Psiquê, Tony Leung como o vilão Afrodite. Os clipes são uma incrível releitura do mito, e finaliza de forma majestosa, com Eros assistindo o NewJeans dançando o interlúdio que dá nome ao álbum, Get Up, que tem 30 segundos (ou crime cometido nessa faixa, por isso, vou nem avaliar).

🐰 + clipe de Cool with You (side A)

🐰 + clipe de Cool with You & Get Up (side B)

Cool with You e Get Up encontram o grupo replicando a melancolia de Ditto e Hurt de uma forma ainda mais sensível e linda, com certeza, um dos meus clipes favoritos lançados esse ano e um dos destaques do álbum vai para Cool with You.

O álbum se encerra com a — pasmem — curta ASAP, a qual eu estava profundamente ansioso desde que a prévia foi lançada. Com um instrumental delicioso e bastante aproveitado, com direito a sintetizadores sincopados, barulhos de relógio e de jogos, ASAP poderia e tinha potencial para ser a minha preferida e melhor música do álbum. Porém, a música me incomoda porque algumas partes são desconexas, como o último refrão que não combina nada com o último pré-refrão, sem realizar uma transição bem-feita e bonitinha, soando como se tivesse sido feita por um fã que apenas copiou as partes previamente lançadas. A música não ter mais de um verso diferente também me incomoda, pois, a música é quase tudo aquilo que eu já vira no teaser lançado.

Peca pela simplicidade, pela rapidez, mas é um perfeito encerramento para o álbum. Eu gostaria muito de ouvir mais dessa música e com certeza, ela seria minha favorita caso fosse maior. Apesar das ressalvas, ASAP é uma ótima faixa e eu continuarei a amar assim como eu a amei desde que ouvi na prévia, mas eu esperava muito mais. Os vocais fofos e harmoniosos das garotas se casam perfeitamente com o barulho de relógio do refrão, junto ao instrumental etéreo assim como o de Super Shy e Cool with You. É uma ode a tudo que foi feito na carreira das garotas, ao mesmo tempo que encontra uma fronteira a qual deve ser cruzada nos próximos lançamentos.

🐰 Nota para a capa o álbum: 5/5

A capa de Get Up é incrível e finalmente o New Jeans largou aquele coelho que é fofo, mas eu já estava saturado. Get Up não perdeu a estética Y2K que as garotas tentam replicar em todo lançamento, mas realçou isso com nada mais que suas versões como Meninas Superpoderosas, em cores vibrantes e extremamente divertida, assim como o álbum. E não pensem que o coelho foi esquecido, pois, o querido está no canto superior esquerdo.

No Apple Music — plataforma que eu uso —, a capa fica ainda mais dinâmica e fofa, com uma capa animada onde as garotas se movem assim como as heroínas.

🐰 Nota geral para o álbum: 4,1/5

Get Up é um ótimo sucessor de New Jeans (o álbum), pois mostra a versatilidade que as garotas podem fazer e destacar suas diferentes habilidades. New Jeans e Super Shy encontram-se no mesmo local dos lançamentos anteriores, queridos pelo público, e dá para entender o porquê dessas faixas estarem aqui, afinal, não se mexe em time que está ganhando. Todavia, os destaques desse álbum são justamente as novas facetas que foram desbloqueadas com outras canções. ETA, a canção funky que soa mais como um lançamento da segunda geração do K-pop se tivesse uma produção mais “poluída”, poderia ser irmã de Bang! do Afterschool; Cool with You, que facilmente seria uma b-side do lado Velvet do Red Velvet, e ASAP que exala o frescor e jovialidade que o New Jeans tanto se preocupa em reproduzir, levemente mais experimental e divertida.

Talvez, tudo isso seria mais bem aproveitado se as músicas não fossem curtas demais e chegam até ser esquecíveis por não serem de uma duração relevante. Odiei algumas na primeira vez que ouvi, mas aos poucos, algumas foram conquistando meu coração e realçando esse sentimento amargo de querer mandar um e-mail para os produtores e perguntar se eles estavam com preguiça quando estavam trabalhando. É um ótimo álbum sem dúvidas, mas isso é ridículo. O álbum tem uma intro, um interlúdio e quatro faixas onde nenhuma passa de míseros três minutos. Entendo que a tendência são músicas mais curtas, mas nesse caso, não dá, tinham que ter sido mais bem aproveitadas, ainda mais na indústria do K-pop onde tudo é pouco.

Embora esse seja o defeito primordial, é incrível ver que o New Jeans está conquistando seu espaço de forma respeitosa e com uma base tão solidificada. A sua identidade já é fixa na mente de diversos ouvintes, sejam eles casuais ou fãs, e isso é perfeito para um grupo que não tem nem um ano de estreia. Porém, os fãs que vão chorar pagando caríssimo em um show que dificilmente chegará a mais de uma hora, pois somando todas as músicas do grupo, não dá nem isso. Recomendo muito as faixas que têm estrelinha, mas vale a pena escutar o álbum inteiro pelo menos, uma vez. Lembrando que isso aqui não passa da minha opinião :P

🐰 Ranking individual das músicas:                          

⭐ ETA  (4,3/5) ⭐ Cool with You (4,2/5) ⭐ ASAP (4,2/5) Super Shy (4/5) NewJeans (3,8/5) Get Up (não avaliado porque é um interlúdio de 30seg).

🐰apple music 🐰spotify

[profesor-javaloyes]

En mi “molesta” opinión.-

La franquista izquierda y extrema izquierda española.-

“Cada vez resulta más difícil ser de izquierdas, sobre todo si uno no es de derechas” (Guy Bedos, actor francés)

No logro entender por qué no se le aplica con contundencia la ���ley de memoria democrática” además del delito de odio, a las manifestaciones viscerales en contra de Israel, antisionistas y en esencia – que es en verdad lo que motiva lo anterior – profundamente antijudías de la extrema izquierda, la izquierda (perdón por la redundancia) y el progresismo posmoderno global.

Estos “antifascistas” no solo mantienen sino que amplían y superan el viejo discurso del general Franco y su longeva dictadura. Hasta en su último discurso público en la Plaza de Oriente poco antes de morir, el un anciano Franco mantuvo el antiguo mantra que señalaba al enemigo como “la conspiración judéomasónica mundial” que tiene como objetivo dominar al mundo.

Franco nunca reconoció al Estado de Israel, lo que sí hizo la Unión Soviética bajo el mando del camarada Stalin que votó a favor de la creación de dos estados, israelí y árabe. Ya en democracia, el presidente Adolfo Suárez - que provenía del aparato del régimen y había sido ministro-Secretario General del Movimiento, del de Franco no del la física se entiende por movimiento al cambio de posición que experimenta un cuerpo en el espacio en un determinado período de tiempo – recibió oficialmente entre sonrisas y abrazos a Yasser Arafat, líder de la organización terrorista Fatah, hoy Autoridad Palestina.

Pero es que durante los años de dictadura Franco siempre apeló a la "tradicional amistad hispano-árabe", no sé a qué tradición se refería si volvemos la mirada a la Reconquista que los expulsó de España, y se reunió en no pocas y amigables ocasiones con jeques, jefes de estado y reyes de países árabes.

Franco apoyó el ataque de la coalición árabe a Israel durante la “guerra de los seis días” liderada curiosamente por el prosoviético Rais de de Egipto, Abdel Nasser, al que recibió en Madrid como también a los reyes de Marruecos Mohamed V y Hassan II, los reyes Saud Ibn Abdel Aziz y Faisal de Arabia Saudí, o Sadam Hussein dictador de Irak entre otros.

Es el1 de enero de 1986 cuando se anunció oficialmente que el Gobierno español establecería relaciones diplomáticas con el Estado de Israel. ¿Gobernaba Franco?, ¿Aznar?, ¿Rajoy quizás?. No, el presidente era Felipe González, líder y secretario general del PSOE.

Desde el final de la guerra civil española hasta su muerte, Francisco Franco tuvo y mantuvo una escolta pintoresca y personal que le acompañaba en desfiles y todo tipo de actos. Se llamaba la “Guardia Mora”, así de claro, sin eufemismos de ningún tipo precisamente no porque la formaron daneses, suecos o noruegos.

¿Quién continúa hoy en día la política “fascista” de Franco?. No importa, con sus “cambios de opinión” constantes, el blanqueamiento de la banda ETA, la amnistía a los golpistas catalanes (¡ojo!, el Estado les pide perdón) y el revisionismo histórico permanente el gobierno y sus voceros afirmarán sin temblarles el pulso que en realidad aquellos soldados con capa y lanza y turbante, montados en caballo que acompañaban a Franco, eran en realidad la... “Guardia Judía”

"¡Sí se puede... con Franco al frente!" (genuino clamor antifascista en estos aciagos días)

[whatsjenniupto]

The Drooping Effect

My AC break was over. I had collapsed, I had hung up my semi-dry, hand washed in Nazaré clothes in hopes they'd actually dry in Coimbra, I had changed into lighter clothes. It was time. Get back out there. You can do this.

The main attraction in Coimbra is likely the university. It's the school that JK Rowling modeled a number of Harry Potter details after. It was my next stop, although I had reservations about the large entrance fee and if I really was interested enough to spend it. But off to the my destination I went, climbing up the mountain.

I quickly cleared the congested turns, determined to beat the Google Maps ETA. One of the comments I read prior to Portugal was how Google Maps times were always off because of the hills, especially in Coimbra. I (for some unknown, incredibly painful, and absolutely inexplicable reason) took this as a challenge. Six minutes? I got this. As I stare up a hill of torture stairs. Must. Beat. Google. Maps. I'm competitive never -- unless Google Maps or Duolingo are involved and then I will take you out. Can't. Breathe. Legs. FIRE. GO, GO, GO!

I slowly crossed off each previously noted spot on my itinerary, growing more and more underwhelmed. The numerous types of church architecture were interesting, but the price tags attached to every entry way and the lack luster (or overly gaudy) interiors that are frequently waiting kept me outside in the sun. Finally, I arrived at the university ticket office and found all the prices raised. Like a lot. Like almost 20 euros. To wander a university. None of the options seemed to match anything I found online and the price tag sure didn't. Did I want to wander a university for 20 euros worth? That was more than my life-changing goat dish. Would I value this university more than that goat? No, I really didn't think so.

So I turned left, looked up a place for gelato, and started walking back down the mountain. I determined that gelato would reset the day and all would be well again.

As I savored the cold gelato perched on a plastic stool on a step, I sorted through options for the remainder of my day. After the monastery, the second goal was to catch a Fado show at Santa Cruz Cafe. I decided to head in that direction, starting with a visit to Igreja de Santa Cruz.

Unfortunately, they cut off entry to the cloisters earlier than expected. I was about three people short of making the cut. Should have savored that gelato a little less. I now had an awkward break until the Fado concert. I could climb back up the mountain and visit a museum for some AC. I could walk out to a park. Or I could continue sitting on the far side of this fountain while pretending not to listen to the guy playing some pretty epic piano and stink eyeing this dude who thinks he's going to be getting into my bag. I'm sorry, do you think you're being stealthy?

UGH. What do I want to do?!

[bauke1974]

So yeah, super casual user here, but I’ve been around Tumblr for a while and the news regarding Automattic’s decision is… not exactly unexpected.

They tried to keep Tumblr as much Tumblr as possible, while also needing to make it palpable for advertisers. Running servers is expensive. Like Really Expensive. Maintenance is expensive because the main expense is man-hours.

Tumblr wasn’t even breaking even on those base costs.

As an aside: It’s interesting seeing users go “good, fuck off and leave us to our posting” and seemingly not realizing that they are not going to have anywhere to post, soonish. Platforms are not national parks, they are private property.

I’ve been through this sort of thing several times on different sites. The big ones I still mourn:

A very niche design community, running on questionable technology (A Flash frontend!) and when that broke and got nixed I lost contact with everyone on there.

The other big one was a de facto abandoned message board for a famous author. No moderation beyond self-policing. Flamewars broke out and some got so mad they decided to make it unusable for everyone else, and when the owners finally stepped in, they just pulled the plug on the whole thing. Luckily by then I had learned the lesson:

Losing a platform is devastating.

Any community you cherish here is going to need to have a fallback community. (be that on a Mastodon server, on BlueSky or Pillow Fight or even Xitter) or it will be gone. Do it sooner than later, because it’s better to not need it after all. If you prepare, you’ll only lose 50 to 70 percent of your community. Part of that is because people still won’t get/feel the urgency until the site goes down, part of it is that they don’t want to/can’t deal with changing, part of it is that the backup won’t or can’t cater to the specific community (or is deemed not safe…)

The tight-knit community from the author’s message board moved to a home server and for me has has basically been reduced to an e-mail chain, but at least I still have some contact.

ETA: I’m a little more positive after Matt’s Q&A. One point that was made is that a small team may actually be better and quicker to react. There will not be any new features, because there’s no team working on “improvements”. Hopefully there will be enough people to make sure the site itself keeps working. Oh and Tumblr Live seems to have been a deal with an outside company and might be going away as soon as that contract is up.

[bwaybwaycwaycway]

This leaves out one of the more interesting parts of the story, I think.

A trans woman by the name of Cassandra Vera Paz was arrested for discussing the assassination of the prime minister, and charged with "injury to victims of terrorism". In 2016. For tweeting about this very information.

She was called into a police station to ask her questions about a robbery she had recently reported, and then the cops arrested her for tweets between 2013 and 2016.

Here are a few of the tweets, which have since been deleted:

"ETA impulsó una política contra los coches oficiales combinada con un programa espacial." (ETA promoted a policy against official cars combined with a space program).

"Kissinger le regaló a Carrero Blanco un trozo de la luna, ETA le pagó el viaje a ella" (Kissinger gave Carrero Blanco a piece of the moon, ETA paid for the trip).

"Feliz 20 de diciembre" (Happy December 20th) Accompanied with three images: one that is a photograph of the effects after the attack on Blanco and two that recreate the explosion and trajectory of Blanco's official vehicle.

The trial is wild too, and Vera fired her first lawyer because he admitted to admiring Prime Minster Blanco and tried to argue she was mentally unstable due to being transgender, and should plead for an insanity defense. She got new lawyers who made a freedom of speech argument instead, but she was convicted in 2017 and sentenced to prison for 2 and half years. Finally, she managed to get out after a Supreme Court appeal in 2018.

Overall, just a fucked up case. Keep sharing these jokes and memes to oppose censorship, and don't ever let someone tell you that you can't make fun of a dead fascist.

shinzo abe day was incredible. still not over seeing all the rumours about what happened, joining everyone in wondering how the fuck a shotgun assassination could have happened in japan, and then seeing the first photo of the doohickey

[makilinda]

Agora vou falar os divos mais divos que eu assisto

seijinho

Comecei a acompanhar o seiji no final de 2022. Foi preciso só um vídeo pra eu viciar, assisti todos os vídeos dele sobre filmes (não ironicamente). Fazem dois anos que ele virou meu YouTuber favorito. Não perco um vídeo desse divo icônico!!

Alanzoka

O Alan eu conheço a um tempo, desde 2020(sim não faz tanto tempo🙂‍↕️) Mas ele se tornou um dos meus queridos ano passado. A live pode ter 10 horas que eu irei estar assistindo. Eu sempre tiro boas risadas com as lives, principalmente quando ele joga junto de alguém.

E eu amo ele e a maethe, são muito fofos😭 Meta de relacionamento.

Brino

O brino eu conheci em 2023, mas foi um vídeo dois no ttk, então eu não fazia a menor ideia quem era esse louco. Depois de um tempo ele começou a aparecer muito na minha for you e eu finalmente comecei a assistir os vídeos do Bruno. Não tenha um vídeo que eu não solte uma risadinha😫

Menção honrosa

Saiko

"Minha filha, eu sou estilista de moda! você não conhece o Zé prikito?"

Eu me cago de ri dos vídeos do saiko véi, namoral. São os que eu mais riu na vida.

T3ddy

Por muito tempo o Luquinhas era meu youtuber fav, eu assistia tudo, tanto o canal normal, tanto o de games.

Eu amava os vídeos do Dardar, amava o t3ddy terror zap, amei quando ele leu uma fanfic dele mesmo. Amava a série da Lan house, amava quando ele jogava jogos longos e tinha vários e vários vídeos.

Mas não sei. Hoje em dia eu ainda assisto, mas não é tanto quanto antes, porém continuo amando o Lucas.

Apesar de ter visto alguns vídeos dele ainda agora🫦

Ariane Cruz

Eu não vou ter foto dela. Porém ela é aquela diva que fala: "eta que massa", toda vez que vai comer. Ela mora no Japão ou na Coreia se não me engano.

Cellinke

O Cellinke normalmente faz vídeos falando de uma "comunidade" e faz piada em cima disso(não só piada, mas explica oque é a "comunidade")