#how to get rid of pop up elements

[vmures]

How to get rid of the creepy pirate clown-instructions without the image of said clown

So because I'm not the only one with a clown phobia, I figured it might be helpful for one of the tutorials on how to get rid of Tumblr's forced advertising elements like the very creepy pirate clown dude from One Piece without using an image of said obnoxious thing.

First step: If you do not already have uBlock Origin, click the link above and download the version of the extension for the browser you are using.

Second step: right click on the clown (or any pop-up element that you want to make go away)

Third step: Click "block element" in the drop-down menu. A new window will pop up with a bit of script and some buttons you can click.

Fourth step: Select the "create" button.

This should make the clown/pop-up element go away.

[wethotcrazy]

GIVE IT A CHANCE

pairing: Ollie Bearman x Fem Driver! K-pop Fan! Reader

word count: 2495

this idea came to me in a prophetic vision as i was listening to ETA by NewJeans, yk he just has that face idk how to explain it.

The early morning simulator room was dim and quiet as Ollie stepped in, rubbing his eyes and adjusting to the light. He wasn’t expecting anyone else to be there at this hour, which is why he was surprised when he heard upbeat music pulsing softly through the room, lyrics in Korean threading through a catchy beat.

It didn’t take him long to spot Y/N, her head bobbing to the rhythm, her eyes focused on her screen. She was wearing her headphones halfway, one ear open, giving her full control of the simulator’s settings—and, evidently, the speakers.

"Didn’t think anyone would be up this early,” Ollie said with a smirk, hoping to catch her off guard.

But Y/N didn’t even flinch. She simply smiled, her eyes sparkling with a playful look. “Oh, yeah… first in gets speaker rights, haha…,” she replied, turning up the volume just a little. “You don’t mind, right?"

Ollie shrugged, a little charmed by her confidence. "Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice.”

With a laugh, Y/N launched the next song, not hesitating to dive into a quick explanation of how NewJeans had taken over the K-pop world lately. Ollie listened, half-amused, half-impressed. She talked about girl groups like they were close friends, like they were just as important to her racing routine as the car itself. As she continued to gush, he found himself caught up in her excitement, almost convinced by her infectious enthusiasm.

She noticed his curious glances and laughed, nudging him. "You know, it’s actually quite nice, Ollie. You should give it a chance."

Ollie just smiled, making a noncommittal noise. He didn’t know much about K-pop, and he didn’t think he’d ever see himself adding it to his playlist. But then he caught himself humming one of the melodies later that day—an upbeat tune from Twice that he’d heard during the simulator session. It kept popping back into his head when he least expected it, like a pleasant earworm he didn’t want to get rid of.

Over the next few weeks, something shifted.

Ollie found himself scrolling through her social media in his downtime, watching the TikToks of Y/N’s “pre-race rituals” she posted. She’d film herself doing girl group choreography in her racing suit, top half hanging around her waist as she danced to songs that were clearly meaningful to her. Fans loved it, and so did he. There was something endearing about her passion, and the way she didn’t hesitate to share it with the world. Somehow, it made her feel even more real, like there was a part of her that was untouched by the pressure and intensity of racing.

One day, he came across a clip of her dancing to a song by Le Sserafim. She was focused, but her expression was soft, full of joy, as if nothing else existed in that moment but the beat and the moves. It made him smile, watching her in her element like that. Without even realizing it, he saved the clip, something he’d catch himself watching on repeat whenever he needed a moment of calm.

He didn’t notice the change right away, but slowly, his playlists began filling up with the songs she loved. He’d go to sleep with the catchy hooks of K-pop songs playing in his head, and he’d wake up humming them, much to his own surprise.

The next time they met for simulator training, Ollie arrived a little earlier than usual. He saw her slip into the room with her headphones on, smiling to herself as she tapped her fingers to a beat he couldn’t hear. Instead of waiting for her to notice him, he took out his phone, tapping to play one of the songs she’d shown him before. The room filled with the familiar sound of a NewJeans track, and she whipped around, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Ollie!” she gasped, laughter bubbling up. “Did you just put on K-pop?”

He grinned, feeling a strange thrill at her reaction. “Well, it grows on you, I guess.”

Y/N looked at him with a mix of pride and amusement. "I never thought I’d see the day! So… favorite group?”

“Don’t make me choose,” he joked, but he was a little flustered by her excitement. “But if I had to, I’d say… maybe Twice? Or, you know, New Jeans.”

She clapped her hands, beaming. “See? I told you! K-pop’s addictive.”

The two of them shared a quiet laugh, and Ollie couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through his chest. It was more than just the music now—it was the way they’d found this new connection, something that felt personal and easy, a side of Y/N that he felt lucky to know.

On race day, Ollie arrived a bit earlier, hoping to catch a glimpse of her “pre-race ritual.” He didn’t have to wait long. Y/N was in her own little world, music playing on her phone as she moved through the steps of a quick choreography, fluid and confident. She didn’t see him at first, and he took a moment just to watch, a smile tugging at his lips. She was magnetic, her energy infectious, and he found himself tapping his foot along to the beat.

Finally, she looked up and caught him watching, cheeks pink as she laughed. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he said, stepping closer. “You know, maybe if racing doesn’t work out you could debut as an idol.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah right, okay…”

They shared a grin, a quiet moment of understanding passing between them. Ever since that first K-pop-filled simulator session, their dynamic has changed. He’d go out of his way to make their training schedules align, just so he could listen with her, maybe pick up a new song or two to tease her about later.

And though he’d never say it out loud, watching her dance, knowing these little rituals were her way of staying grounded… it felt like his own way of connecting with her. A small piece of her world that she’d let him into.

As the season went on, fans began to notice Ollie’s subtle transformation. In interviews, he’d mention her more often, usually with a smile when asked about their friendship. Some eagle-eyed fans even caught him humming a few K-pop melodies during Prema videos, and speculation spread across social media like wildfire.

When someone finally asked him about it, he shrugged with a grin. "Guess Y/N has good taste," he said, leaving it at that.

But in truth, it wasn’t just about the music. Every song reminded him of her laugh, her energy, and the way she found joy in something so different from racing. It was a little ritual, a small way to stay close, even during the busiest days. And though he didn’t know exactly when it had happened, somewhere along the line, Ollie realized that maybe K-pop wasn’t the only thing he’d grown attached to.

Ollie’s transformation was undeniable. Y/N’s playlist had become the soundtrack to his days, whether it was Le Sserafim blaring in the simulator, NewJeans playing through his earbuds on race day, or even the quieter Twice ballads that had somehow snuck into his late-night wind-down routine. He’d catch himself mouthing along to the lyrics, subconsciously practicing bits of choreography he’d pick up from YN, his own private tribute to her.

Of course, his friends at Prema and a few of the other drivers started to notice, and the teasing came swiftly.

“Are those Twice lyrics I hear, Ollie?” Kimi called one day in the paddock, his grin practically splitting his face.

Ollie rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t fight off the smile. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Kimi raised his hands in surrender, still laughing. “Hey, hey—no shame in it, man. Just didn’t know our resident racing prodigy was also a K-pop aficionado.”

“Yeah, next thing you know, you’ll be wearing matching outfits with Y/N and doing TikTok dances before races!” joked another driver, Dino, who’d caught Ollie attempting one of Y/N’s routines before practice one day.

Ollie could only laugh, brushing off the comments with a shrug. “She would be more than happy to teach you guys too,” he quipped, throwing a wink at Y/N, who was watching the whole thing with an amused grin.

As the season rolled on, Ollie’s transformation was undeniable. Y/N’s playlist had become the soundtrack to his days, whether it was Le Sserafim blaring in the simulator, NewJeans playing through his earbuds on race day, or even the quieter Twice ballads that had somehow snuck into his late-night wind-down routine. He’d catch himself mouthing along to the lyrics, subconsciously practicing the moves Y/N had taught him, his own private tribute to the friend who’d somehow changed his life with her love for K-pop.

Of course, his friends at Prema and a few of the other drivers started to notice, and the teasing came swiftly.

“Are those Twice lyrics I hear, Ollie?” Kimi called one day in the paddock, his grin practically splitting his face.

Ollie rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t fight off the smile. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Kimi raised his hands in surrender, still laughing. “Hey, hey—no shame in it, man. Just didn’t know our resident racing prodigy was also a K-pop aficionado.”

“Yeah, next thing you know, you’ll be wearing matching outfits with Y/N and doing TikTok dances before races!” joked another driver, Max, who’d caught Ollie attempting one of Y/N’s routines before practice one day.

Ollie could only laugh, brushing off the comments with a shrug. “If you want to keep up, maybe you should get on the trend too. Y/N would be more than happy to teach you guys some moves,” he quipped, throwing a wink at Y/N, who was watching the whole thing with an amused grin.

As the season progressed, he found himself leaning into it, not just to keep up with Y/N but because he genuinely enjoyed it. He started keeping tabs on comebacks, messaging her when a new song dropped, sending her clips and asking which choreography she was going to master next. Y/N would respond with enthusiastic voice notes, her excitement filling his inbox with laughter and inside jokes.

One night, during a particularly tense week before a race, Y/N shot him a message just past midnight.

Y/N: Can’t sleep. Found this new song from a girl group I think you’ll love. Wanna come around to listen?

Ollie didn’t think twice, slipping out of his flat and finding her in her own dimly lit living room, her phone ready with a new track queued up. She played it softly, the two of them listening together in the quiet, just sharing a moment of calm before the chaos of the upcoming race. It became their routine—a new song here, a dance there, small moments that only they shared.

One rainy afternoon at the track, while they were waiting for a rain delay to clear, Ollie watched Y/N from a distance, bouncing slightly on her toes, moving through the motions of a dance routine that was clearly second nature to her. She didn’t have the music on this time, but she didn’t need it; every beat, every move was etched into her memory. Her racing suit was half off, hanging around her waist, her fireproofs slightly damp from the humidity, but she was lost in her world.

Kimi sidled up next to him, noticing where his attention had drifted.

“You’ve got it bad, mate,” he said, crossing his arms, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Bet you know more K-pop routines than any of us now.”

Ollie shrugged, unable to keep the warmth from spreading across his cheeks. “It’s… fun. And it’s kind of relaxing, you know?”

“Yeah, it’s not just about the music, though, is it?” Kimi shot him a pointed look, which Ollie pretended not to notice. “Come on, we all see the way you look at her. Even my mum could pick up on it.”

Ollie laughed, trying to brush it off, but deep down, he knew Kimi was right. It wasn’t just the music that drew him in anymore—it was the way Y/N shared it with him, like she was letting him into a part of herself that was untouched by the pressure of racing. Every song was a glimpse into her world, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful that she’d let him in.

Finally, it all came to a head one evening after a particularly intense race. Y/N had performed spectacularly, finishing on the podium, and the team celebrated with a late dinner at a nearby restaurant. There was laughter, cheers, and, of course, someone brought out a portable speaker to keep the energy up.

Y/N, still buzzing with excitement, nudged Ollie, her eyes gleaming. “Alright, Bearman,” she said, her tone playful but challenging. “You’ve been following K-pop all season, so it’s about time you proved yourself. How about a little dance-off?”

Ollie blinked, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “You’re joking.”

“Come on!” she urged, and the others at the table started chanting his name, egging him on. “Show us what you’ve got!”

With a reluctant grin, he got up, and she queued up one of her favorite songs from Le Sserafim, the opening beats pulsing through the room. They started off slow, her laughter contagious as she showed him the steps. To everyone’s surprise (and Kimi’s endless amusement), he actually kept up with her (though timidly), moving through the choreography they’d practiced during one of their late-night sessions in her flat.

The team erupted in applause when they finished, a little breathless, a little flushed. Y/N beamed up at him, her hand squeezing his arm. “You’re not half bad, Bearman,” she said, her voice soft, only loud enough for him to hear. “Guess I really did a good job with you, huh?”

He looked down at her, the noise around them fading to a hum. “Yeah,” he replied, voice low. “You definitely did.”

For a moment, they stood there, surrounded by their friends but entirely in their own little bubble. He felt like saying something else, something about how her music had come to mean so much more to him than just catchy beats and routines. But he didn’t need to say it; the look in her eyes told him she understood.

And in that shared, unspoken moment, Ollie realized that the season wasn’t just about racing anymore. It was about every song, every laugh, every quiet moment they’d stolen away to be themselves. Maybe K-pop had been the start of it, but what it had led to was something he wouldn’t trade for anything.

K-pop might’ve been her world first, but now, in some small way, it felt like their world too.

[absurdthirst]

Dieter's Daughter {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.7k

Warnings: Dad!Dieter, mentions of drug use, unplanned pregnancies, freaking out, mentions of foster care, anxiety, lactation kink, babies, domestic bliss, falling in love, sudden marriage proposals, Dieter being a sap, adult breast feeding, oral sex (female receiving), face riding, vaginal sex, pregnancy

Comments: When a baby is dropped off on Dieter's doorstep, he is completely out of his element and doesn't know what to do. Attending a single mother support group meeting, he finds you. Begging you to become a nanny to his daughter.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

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

It takes several minutes for the sounds of the doorbell peeling insistently to break through Dieter’s nearly catatonic state. Too much booze and too many pills are the result of another day of discontent and wishing that there was something other than numbness of life for him. Leaving him grumbling when one eye pops open and he groans when the cotton mouth and headache hits him. “Go away.” He huffs, knowing that there is no way that whoever is at the damn door would hear him all the way in his bedroom. Hell, the only reason he hears the doorbell is because it’s wired to the sound system in the house. Again the bell rings and like the dead rising from the grave, Dieter drags himself out of the safety and comfort of his bed. “Fuck! I’m coming! I’m coming!” The bathrobe he had tossed down last night is put over his boxers and he shuffles towards the stairs as fast as his lethargic body can go.

When Dieter opens the door, he’s shocked to see a woman standing there holding a baby. “Can I help you?” He asks, rubbing his eyes, and she snorts.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” She asks and Dieter squints, “am I supposed to?” 

She laughs humorlessly, “I shouldn’t be surprised, you could barely remember my name that night. I was just amazed that a big actor wanted to fuck me. Remember me? That cocktail waitress from the club you took home about ten months ago?” She says and Dieter scratches his neck. 

“Listen lady, I sleep with a lot of people. It’s hard to remember them all.” He admits with zero qualms. 

“Wow. You’re a fucking asshole. Anyway, I guess the condom broke because congrats, you’re a daddy. It’s a girl. Her name is Rosie. Her birth certificate is in the bag.” She holds the baby out towards him and his eyes widen, looking down at the baby bag in the ground.

”What? I- what the fuck?” He looks bewildered before he starts to laugh. “Good one. Real funny. What do you want? Money?” He scoffs and she shakes her head, tears in her eyes. 

“No. No. I need you to take her. I can’t afford her and I- I didn’t want her. When I found out - I was fucking eight months pregnant so it was too late to get rid of her and I can’t work so I can’t pay for my place. I can’t keep her. You gotta take her. She will be better off with you.” She says and pushes the baby into Dieter’s arms. 

He scrambles to hold the baby, not wanting to drop her and the woman immediately sprints off towards her car. “Hey! Wait! You can’t just- I don’t know how to look after a baby! I need you to - hey. Where the fuck- get back here!” He yells as she squeals off of his driveway and he curses himself for not fixing the gate yet. “Shit.” He hisses. He didn’t even get her name. Looking down at the baby, he sighs and knows he has to find her mom. He can’t be a daddy. He can barely look after himself. 

No, first thing is a damn DNA test and then he’s gonna find that bitch and give her back her baby. He’s gotta call the police after he cleans up his counters from the coke powder. “Fuckkkkk.” He groans, knowing his quiet day just got a whole lot busier.

****

“If we take her, Mr. Bravo, she’s just going to go into a state home. An orphanage.” Dieter frowns and wraps his arms around his chest, nervous for having the fucking cops in his house. Paranoid they were going to find the baggie of Coke he just remembered was in the little box next to his car keys. “You are listed on the birth certificate.” 

Snatching the paper from the officer he squints at it. “How the fuck is that legal?” He demands. “That means anyone could put me down as the father of their kid.” 

The officer shuffles, clearly uncomfortable and slightly in awe of being in the actor’s presence. “That’s for the courts to decide. Look,” he lowers his voice and looks around. “I don’t think you understand how bad the system is for babies.” He tells Dieter seriously. “Just- keep the baby with you, at least until the DNA tests come back. That way you don’t have to fight to get her back when she is yours. You already said you might have slept with this woman. Stranger things have happened.” 

Dieter huffs, upset by the idea of the tiny little human being in an orphanage. Even if she doesn’t look anything like him. He had found diapers and a can of formula in the bag that the mother had left with him but that’s it. He has nothing to take care of a child. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t know shit about kids.” He demands, making the officer chuckle. 

“Hire a nanny.” The officer suggests, smirking. “Isn’t that what you Hollywood types do?”

Dieter knows he can’t just ship the kid off. She’s so tiny and vulnerable. He can’t do it, even he’s not that big of an asshole. He will call his assistant to get a nanny in today. “Listen, do you, uh, know how much formula to use?” He asks the cop who nods and walks over to the counter to show Dieter. 

“One scoop for every two ounces of water. Get baby water but bottled will have to work for today. So four ounces, two scoops. And shake. After she is finished, shift her to your shoulder and gently pat her back to get her to burp.” He says and Dieter nods. 

“How much does she need?” Dieter asks and the cop chuckles, “she’s gonna be hungry a lot. I remember mine at that age. Endless bottles. Be sure to wash them thoroughly.” He says and pats Dieter on the shoulder and makes his way towards the front door of the Sherman Oaks mansion.

“Fuck.” Dieter groans, rubbing his cheek when the police leave and the baby starts to cry. He knows she must be hungry so he fumbles to open the container, grabbing the bottle to fill it with bottled water and putting two scoops in. “I’m coming.” He says, struggling to do the bottle up, and he curses again as he walks over to carefully scoop the baby up. “How do I-?” He struggles to get her to suck on the bottle and sighs in relief when she stops wailing and gulps down the milk.

Dieter holds the baby awkwardly, trying to remember how from that role a few years ago. The baby had been a prop doll, but they had shown him how to hold it. “Your name’s Rosie, huh?” He asks, looking down at the infant. According to the birth certificate, she’s only two months old. “I’m Dieter, but you don’t talk so why am I telling you that?” He huffs, but the baby gurgles around the nipple of the bottle and it makes him grin. “Did you like that?” He asks, lifting a brow. Apparently he’s a natural with kids. 

The baby grunts and the grin immediately slides into a frown. “What’s that?” He asks, feeling something moving. “What are you doing?” Instead of sucking down the milk, the baby is grunting and straining and Dieter stares in horror as the smell starts to reach his nose. “Oh shit! You shit!” He groans in disgust.

The baby starts to cry, unhappy with a full diaper, and Dieter is reaching for his phone. 

“Hello?” His assistant answers and Dieter is panicking. 

“I need you here right now. I need help.” 

Johan, his assistant, frowns, “is that- is that a baby?” He asks and Dieter groans, “get here now. And call a nanny service!” He demands and hangs up. “What do I do?” He asks the baby, shifting to lay her down on a towel so she doesn’t get shit on his expensive rug. “I- shit. You - fuck. That’s disgusting.” He groans and pulls his phone out. “YouTube! I’ll try YouTube.” He looks up ‘how to change a diaper’ and grabs the baby bag.

Dieter watches the video, studying it intently as he keeps a hand on the baby’s stomach. “Looks easy.” He frowns at the squirming baby. “But the doll wasn’t moving.” He sets the phone down beside the bag so he can see it and bites his lip as he tries to figure out the snaps on the onesie she’s in. “Holy shit.” He huffs, amazed at how easy it unsnaps. “I need this in a fucking adult version.” Wrinkling his nose when the smell gets even worse, he groans. “Wheeeeew, God you stink.” He nearly gags and pulls his shirt up over his nose. “What did you eat?”

Trying to plug his nose, he follows the YouTube video, wiping the poop off of her skin after rolling up the dirty diaper and putting it in the diaper bag. Anyone watching would think Dieter is dealing with a bomb. He gags when he pushes the wipes into the bag after cleaning her up and he grabs the rash cream, placing some on her bottom where the video details he should. He curses the new diaper, trying to figure out what way is the front until he sees it says “back” on it and he pulls it tight on her tiny body before he clips her onesies back into place. “Shit. That - that wasn’t too bad.” He murmurs, breathing in the fresh air and she hiccups, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re kind of cute.” Dieter murmurs. “In a weird, ‘you don’t look like me’ kind of way.” He frowns when she grins at him, kicking her feet. “You’re weird.” He huffs, but she just waves her arms at him and squeals. Is she his? After all this time, did he finally fuck up and procreate? His mind spins and he wishes he remembers what the woman looks like better than he does but it had been early (for him) and he had just woken up. “We will have to find you someone who knows what they are doing kiddo.”

**** 

“What did you do?” Johan accuses Dieter who shakes his head, holding the baby in his arms and he looks at her, unable to deny that she looks a little like Dieter. 

“I don’t know man. Some woman, I- Jesus. She said I fucked her and don’t even remember her. I’m waiting for the nurse to come for the DNA test.” Dieter confesses, knowing he has to be sure before he does anything.

“Oh my God, Dieter.” She rolls her eyes and immediately steps closer to the baby, unable to resist seeing her up close. “This is why you said you needed a nanny?” 

Dieter nods and rocks his body as the baby’s eyes start to drift closed. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He huff, looking around the house that is definitely not baby proof. “I don’t have anything. I need-” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the fuck I need. More diapers? That formula?” He nods towards the diaper bag. “She didn’t leave me shit for this baby.” He growls, pissed off at the poor planning of that woman. Who just abandons their baby with someone they didn’t know? 

“Let me make a list and we can get what we need for her.” Johan says, knowing Dieter will not know anything that he will need. 

“I need help. And stuff. Like now.” Dieter says, feeling the need to use but he can’t since he’s responsible for a fucking baby now.

Johan nods and bites his lip. “I’ve got a call into a nanny service. They are going to send someone over today.” He knows Dieter will be relieved. “Maybe she can help us with what we need.”

“Let’s get her. I need help. I- shit. I don’t even have a crib or anything. I need you to go out. Take my card and get all the baby shit from the best store there is in town.” He orders, wanting the baby to have the best even if she isn’t his. She’s cute and she deserves a good start in this world. “I need - shit - I have no idea what I’m doing. Please help me.” Dieter begs, the baby falling asleep against his chest and he looks down at her, her lips pouting as she sucks on the pacifier he found in the bag.

Johan grimaces and nods, aware that he has even less experience with babies than Dieter does. “I’ll be back.” The other man promises, quickly making his way towards the door and out of the house. He had no clue what the hell to do for his boss, he’s gotten himself in a mess this time. As much as he wants to claim he doesn’t know that baby is his, it is. Dieter Bravo is a father.

****

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve always been such a fan of your work.” The woman gushes. Dieter can barely remember her name. Violet, Vivian, or something like that. She seems nice enough and her qualifications from the service are good. He doesn’t really know what he’s looking for in a nanny except he desperately needs help. He’s waiting on the DNA results to come in but the little baby is cute and she listens to him rambling without complaints.

Viola looks around the house and wonders how the hell Dieter Bravo became an overnight father. “You must attend parenting classes.” She insists after Dieter finally runs out of steam and shuts up. “There is one I can sign you up for. It’s for new parents and you qualify.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “They have a meeting in two days, I can see about getting you halfway set up.

“What? No. I don’t need a parenting group.” Dieter scoffs and Viola raises her eyebrows. 

“Respectful sir, I think you do.” She offers him a wry smile when the baby starts to cry in his arms. 

“I’m hopeless, aren’t I?” He sighs, trying to rock Rosie and he is struggling to calm her. 

“Here. Can I-?” Viola asks and Dieter practically shoves the baby into her arms. 

“You’re hired.” He declares when Rosie calms down and the crying stops. He can’t do this alone.

“Mr. Bravo,” Viola frowns and shakes her head. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood. I am here temporarily.” She explains. “I have already signed a contract with another family. I came today because it was an emergency.” She wonders if he had heard anything she had said when she arrived, he had looked frazzled but she thought she had been clear. 

“What? No! You seem like such a nice lady and Rosie likes you. Please. I’ll pay more. I’ll do anything to get you to stay.” He pleads, “name your price. I’ll fucking pay it. Please!” He pouts, eyes wide and pleading. 

Viola shakes her head, “I’m so sorry. I can’t get out of the contract. I’ll help you as much as I can. Johan said you need help learning the basics so I’ll show you the basics and take care of Rosie while I can but you’re going to have to learn what to do.” She says, knowing it’s going to be tough.

“I can’t do this.” Dieter wails, knowing life as he knows it is over. Without someone here, he going to fuck it up. “Please, please, you have to stay.” He begs, making Viola shake her head. 

“I am here for one week, Mr. Bravo. Then it will be up to you to find someone to help you care for Rosie. Now, let me show you how to bathe your daughter.”

****

“She’s yours.” Dieter exhales shakily as Johan announces the DNA results. 

“Shit. I- I have a daughter.” He shakes his head and looks over at Rosie who is asleep in her bassinet. “What am I gonna do?” Dieter asks as reality sets in. He has a child that he’s responsible for and Viola is only here for two more days. “She’s - she’s so tiny and I’m gonna fuck it up. She’s gonna get fucked up because of me.” He starts to panic now that reality has hit.

“You are going to go to the parenting class tonight and we are going to continue to look for a nanny.” Johan tells Dieter practically. He’s been surprised that Dieter hasn’t done as many drugs as he normally does, even smoking weed outside because of the baby. “So far all the services I’ve called don’t have anyone available until next year.” He shakes his head. “Apparently it was baby season this year.”

Dieter groans, covering his face with his hands and dragging them down his cheeks. “I have pre-production for the movie coming up in a few weeks. I can’t take her with me to a table read.” He whines and Rosie shifts in her sleep, making Dieter’s heart melt when the movement catches his attention and he looks over. “Fine. I’ll go to the parenting class. Maybe…maybe someone can help me find a nanny there.” He says, determined to find help. 

****

Dieter walks into the church hall, surprised he hasn’t burst into flames. He hasn’t been to church since he was a kid. His mama used to drag him on a Sunday and when he became famous at ten years old, he managed to bail on church because he was working. He sits down in a seat, noticing how all the other attendees are women. Rosie is asleep in her carrier for now and he has the diaper bag at his feet. “Welcome ladies and - oh. Hi, we have a new member.” An older woman smiles at Dieter, “welcome to the single mom support group.”

“Oh, uh, I thought it was-“ Dieter falters for a moment, panicking about being kicked out of the group. “I thought this was a single parent support group.” He explains, shuffling. “I just- uh, the mother of the child- my child- I just got the DNA test back, dropped her off on my door with no warning.” He rambles, trying to explain why he needs to stay. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He confesses, nearly sounding defeated.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You can stay.” A few of the moms recognize Dieter and he looks exhausted. Rosie had kept him up half of the night since Viola has been weaning him off of her help, and he glances around. 

“I’m sorry to - shit. I can go.” He says and you are sitting next to him. 

“No, stay. It’s okay. We are all here to help each other.” Your own son, three months old, is whining and you sigh, pulling your tank top down and unclipping your bra to breastfeed him.

Dieter’s eyes widen at the sight of your breast and he can’t deny his cock twitches a little at the idea of drinking down some milk. Shit, when did that kink happen? “I appreciate it. I have no clue what I’m doing.” He admits again and all the women laugh, “none of us do. It’s instinct and a lot of books.” One giggles, “and Google.”

“I didn’t even know.” Dieter moans, shaking his head. “It was- it was a one night stand.” He feels bad about that, not even able to tell Rosie about his relationship with her mom when she gets older. “I’m trying to hire a nanny but all of them are booked up.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to fuck her up. She’s so tiny. Two months old.”

“What’s her name?” You ask him, looking at the little girl asleep in her carrier. 

“Rosie.” He says with a soft smile, it’s hard to not love the little girl now that he knows she’s his. He wants the best for her, even if she’s stuck with a manic mess like him. “This is Oliver.” You gesture to the baby now asleep on your breast.

Dieter smiles and tries not to notice the grunting sounds the kid is making. Feeling guilty because he knows that he would be making the exact same sounds the kid is if he was sucking down milk from your tit. “That’s nice.” He offers. 

“So what is your name?” The woman in charge smiles fondly at him and he’s surprised no one recognizes him. 

“Uh, Dieter.” He offers, curling his shoulders slightly. “Dieter Bravo.”

“Welcome Dieter.” Several of the women say to him with a smile. 

“So do you have any questions?” Julia, the group leader asks. 

“Where the fuck do I begin?” He replies dramatically, making all the women chuckle. 

“Well, we are here to help each other so might as well start.”

“So my first question. So is their shit always gonna be that black color?” Dieter shakes his head, making a face as he remembers the last diaper he had changed. 

All the women laugh. “No that won’t last for much longer since she’s three months old.” 

Dieter rolls his eyes gratefully. “Oh thank God.” He chuckles. Looking over at you again. “You said your son is two months old? Is he sleeping all night? Is that something that she has to get used to?”

You shake your head, “he isn’t sleeping through the night yet. I breastfeed so he wakes me up every couple of hours. It takes a while for them to sleep through the night. Like six months or so. Have you read any baby books?” You ask and he shakes his head. “Oh you must read - you know what. I’ll send you a list. What’s your number?” You ask and the women all giggle, making you fluster. “I mean, to help. We have babies close in age. It’s good to have help.”

“Do you need a job?” Dieter blurts out, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it before. “I mean- if your husband doesn’t mind.” He corrects himself, forgetting it was a single mother’s group. “I'm just- I’ve got to start pre-production on the next movie and it’s going to be crazy and you seem like you’re perfect. You handle your baby so easily.” His eyes are wide and pleading, begging you to say yes.

Your eyes widen, "I- um, oh wow. A job?" 

The other women all nod, telling Dieter about your history as a teacher and how you know CPR. You fluster, knowing you need a job. Your maternity leave ended two weeks ago and instead of letting you come back to work, your job had fired you. Between losing your job and your landlord chasing you up on rent, you know this is too good to turn down. "I'm not married and um, what job do you have in mind?"

“Nanny.” He jumps immediately on your question. Knowing that it’s not a ‘no’. “I’ll pay you really well and you can- can you live there? I mean, I can have odd hours and you can stay at my place. You and Oliver.” He makes sure to include your son. “I have a big house. In Sherman Oaks.” As if that would sweeten the deal. “Help me with Rosie and teach me how to be a dad. How to look after her. I don’t expect you to do it all.” He clarifies, having already gotten used to the idea of being a ‘girl dad’. He’s watched a few Tik Toks about it and it looks cool.

You know it sounds too good to be true. A job and a place to live with your son. “I think we need to sit down and talk this through properly. You don’t even know me. Don’t you wanna do a background check?” You ask, knowing you’d be doing that if you were hiring someone to live in your house. “We have a lot to discuss.” You bite your lip and look around the room to see the other moms nodding to encourage you.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dieter nods seriously. “My agent will have that done. Plus the NDA you would have to sign.” He’s grateful you are even thinking about it. “But don’t worry. Most of the tabloid stuff is bullshit. I’m not that bad.” He promises with a quick, charming grin. “We can hammer out the details after this, right?”

“Uh, sure.” You nod and Dieter winks at you before turning back to the women, their own babies in their arms and you know this is too good an opportunity to turn down. “You wanna go get a coffee?” You ask Dieter after Oliver is in his stroller and you look at Rosie who is still asleep, unaware of her father trying to hire her a new nanny. 

“As long as it’s quiet.” He says and you frown, “uh, sure. You said you are going into pre-production so does that mean you are an actor?” You ask, unaware of if he’s famous.

Dieter stares at you for a moment, wondering if you are just trying to play coy but you are just looking at him curiously. “Yeah, uh, I am.” He admits, finding it refreshing that someone on this planet doesn’t know who he is or have any expectations of him. “I normally do two or three movies a year, depending on how long they take to film or whatever.” He struggles with the carrier and the door, holding it open for you on the other side. “Gotta get one of those.” He tells himself, eyeing your stroller.

“We can make a list of what you’ll need. I’m guessing you have the basics but there’s so much stuff.” You sigh, knowing it’s not always been in your reach but someone like him could buy it all. 

“A list sounds good. Coffee?” He suggests, gesturing to the small coffee shop down the street and you nod. 

“Sounds good. I desperately need one. He kept me up all night. He was hungry last night and wouldn’t settle unless he was against my breast.”

Dieter keeps his dirty thoughts to himself, but he doesn’t blame the kid. He would love to sleep with a nipple in his mouth too. “We will make sure to get you an extra shot of espresso.” He promises, carrying the car seat and diaper bag as he walks alongside you. “I’m being serious. About the job, I mean.” He tells you. “I have tried every nanny service in the greater L.A. area with no luck, although I’m on their waitlist.” He sighs and shuffles the carrier when his arm gets tired in one position. “I have an in-law suite you and Oliver can use, if you want a little more privacy than just sleeping upstairs.” He knows he sounds desperate, because he is desperate. Johan knows less than he does about babies and has zero interest in watching the kid while he is busy.

“Let’s sit down with the babies and then we can order.” You suggest and he nods, guiding you over to a table in the back. Rosie is waking up and he panics when she starts to cry. “Oh hello gorgeous.” You murmur, leaning down to look at his daughter and Dieter is fumbling to get the bottle from the bag to make her formula. You sigh, sensing he needs help and you unbuckle the baby, Oliver asleep as you cradle Rosie, her cries settling a little and you stand up, rocking her and you reach for the formula Dieter has, a whole damn container, and work fast on a bottle. “My sister has kids. I used to babysit them.” You explain and work fast with one hand to prepare a bottle and bring it to her lips. “Here you go sweet pea.” You coo as she starts to gulp down the milk.

“You’re really good at this.” Dieter says in awe, watching you handle things so smoothly. “I’m just-I don’t know.” He sighs, feeling bad that he’s not good at this. 

“Babies sense the emotions around them.” You tell him quietly. “You panic, she’s going to become more frantic. Just talk to her while you are getting her bottle ready. Or have one already mixed up, ready to go.” You think about all the formulas that are already bottled and just need a nipple slapped on them. “We can find a routine that works for you.”

Dieter nods, “yes. Yes. God, please take the job. I need you.” He pleads and you shift Rosie into his arms, transferring the bottle to him. 

“I’ll take the job. On one condition.” You say, sitting back down and you rock Oliver’s stroller. 

“Anything.” Dieter vows. 

“You learn too. I don’t want you to just shove her into my arms at the first sign of difficulty. She’s your daughter. You need to know how to care for her, to bond with her. You can’t just hand her off and expect me to do it all. She needs to know her daddy.”

Dieter nods, knowing that he would do that if given the opportunity. “Okay.” He agrees. “I want you to help me become better at taking care of her.” He bites his lip and looks at you. “What do you want for pay?” He asks, listing off a number that the nanny services had given him. “Does that sound okay? Plus, you’ll have full use of the house. And a card for expenses. I don’t expect you to buy the diapers or wipes or any of that shit.”

Your eyes widen, it’s way more than you were making at your old job. Your landlord has been threatening you with eviction since you’re struggling to pay, and this almost seems like fate. “Wow. I- are you sure?” You ask him and he nods, “I’m absolutely sure.” 

You swallow and offer him a soft smile, “then I’m your new nanny.” He grins and your heart thumps in your chest at how handsome he is. “There’s something you gotta know though.” You sigh and Dieter nods, waiting for you to go on. “Oliver’s father. He - he died.” You feel yourself tearing up, “we - I was only a few months pregnant when we got into the car accident.  I didn’t even know I was pregnant at the time but Ollie- he- he died. We were- we were friends, friends with benefits and we got pregnant and he- he never got to meet his son.” You choke, the grief that’s consumed you threatens to take you again. He didn’t have any family left alive so Oliver would’ve been his only family.

“I’m sorry.” Dieter frowns, unsure of how to comfort someone about a death that meaningful but he feels like he should say something. “That is rough. Hopefully- hopefully this will turn into a good arrangement.” He offers with a small shrug, realizing that things could be worse. He can’t imagine what it would be like going through this alone. “After our coffee, do you want to come over? See the house?” He asks. “I can call my agent to draw up any kind of paperwork you want.”

You nod, sniffing to stop yourself from crying about Ollie. You loved him, he was your friend, but you were never in love with him. He had his problems and you had yours. It would’ve never worked. Oliver is here now and you have to be strong for him, to keep Ollie’s memory alive. “Yes. I- this is a lot but I want to change my life. I need a change. I want to work for you.” You say as the barista takes pity on you with the babies and comes over to take your order. “I’ll have a vanilla latte please.” You order and Dieter adds, “with an extra shot of espresso.”

After taking your orders, Rosie finishes her bottle and Dieter shifts to put her up on his shoulder to burp. “Hang on, you need a spit rag.” You insist, digging in your own diaper bag to produce one. 

“Huh,” Dieter huffs, “I just thought I was supposed to wear her puke until she stopped doing that.” He jokes, the stains on his shirt only partly from his daughter. 

“No, you always carry multiple burp clothes and changes of clothes, for both of you.” You tell him with a smile.

He nods, mentally taking notes. He has so much to learn from you to make sure his daughter is well looked after. He doesn’t want to fail at being a father. He wants her to know he did everything he could to be a good daddy. He knows you will be good for Rosie, for him too. He sips his coffee and watches you with Oliver, rocking his stroller, and he can see you’re a good mom. He feels comfortable with you. “Do you wanna come back to my place?” Dieter asks, realizing that’s the first time he’s asked that question without it being for sex or drugs

You bite your lip and look up at the frazzled, yet handsome man who is offering you a dream situation. A place to live and the ability to stay at home with your son while still earning money. You don’t know if you would ever get a better offer. “Yes.” You agree. “I’ll follow you? Maybe you can text me the address in case we get separated?” You want to look it up really quickly, just to make sure it’s a real place.

He nods, taking your number to text you his address. He is anxious for you to see the house, hoping you love it and it helps to get you to take the job. You strap Oliver into his car seat while Dieter does the same to Rosie and soon enough, you’re driving to his house.

“I, uh, I’ll ask the housekeeper to come in more than once a week.” Dieter offers, climbing out of his car as you do the same. He doesn’t want you to think that it’s all going to fall on you. “Oh, Johan told me about a diaper delivery service. All natural diapers? That’s better, right?” He asks, anxious about doing the right thing. He had read about the chemicals used in the nappies he currently has.

You smile at his anxiety, wanting the best for Rosie, and you know he’s going to be a good daddy once he gets his feet under him. “Johan?” You ask and Dieter nods, “my assistant. He’s - he is my lifeline.” Dieter confesses and you nod, understanding he lives a completely different life to you. He needs an assistant to manage his schedule. You take Oliver out of the car in his carrier and follow Dieter into the house, your eyes wide at the gorgeous home he owns. “This is - wow.” You exhale as you enter the grand property.

“Thank you.” Dieter shows you the bottom floor and opens the door to his study. “I have all this shit I don’t know what it’s for.” The room is filled with boxes of toys and jumpers, cribs and carriers. Johan had gone overboard but Dieter had wanted to make sure that he had everything he needed. Your eyes widen and he blushes, “I was trying my best.” 

You nod, understating he has struggled since Rosie was dropped on his doorstep. “We can get everything set up. Does she have a nursery?” You ask and he shakes his head, “she’s been in my room. I- I haven’t really slept. I’ve been trying to watch her sleep in case, you know.” 

You understand, knowing you stay awake watching Oliver breathing. It’s a lot of anxiety being a first time parent. “We will get her nursery set up and then you can keep her in your room if you want but then she has somewhere to nap and call her own.” You smile and rub his shoulder after you set Oliver down in his carrier, he’s asleep. “It’s gonna be fine.” You promise him, glancing around the beautiful living room. “It’s gonna need some baby proofing and, uh, that needs to go.” You gesture to the powder packet on the counter.

“Oh, I, uh-“ Dieter rushes forward and grabs the packet to sweep it off the counter and into his pocket. “I haven’t- that’ll be put away.” He promises, cursing himself for leaving it out. He hadn’t taken any lately, not since Rosie arrived because he’s too fucking scared of something happening to her while he’s bombed. “Sorry.” He hopes you don’t decide to leave him high and dry because of that. “Do you want to see the rooms you and Oliver could have?” He asks desperately.

You stop him, “I- I am taking the job but you won’t do drugs in this house with the babies. If something happened or they got hold of it - I couldn’t - no drugs in this house. Period. You wanna go get high somewhere else? Fine. But your daughter comes first, you understand?” You ask him, knowing you won’t risk your own son around that kind of bullshit.

Immediately nodding, Dieter understands what you are saying. “I haven’t- not since she’s arrived.” He confesses. “I’ve been too scared to even try in case something happens.” He’s not stupid enough to think he won’t do drugs anymore but he does want to be there for his daughter.

You nod, knowing it’s not ideal but it will have to do. As long as they aren’t kept in the house and he doesn’t do them around the children, it’s his business. You are just his employee. “Okay.” You pat his shoulder and he guides you to the guest suite. “Dieter…this is…wow.” You gasp at the massive room, “this is - this is a lot. Are you sure - there’s no other room you want me to have?” You ask, knowing this room is the size of your apartment.

“You need room for you and Oliver.” He shrugs, not wanting to say that he doesn’t have guests unless it was someone from a party. And he doubts he’s having those here anymore. “This way you have privacy and your own bathroom.” He knows that is important and figured this would be perfect. “And using another room for Oliver is okay too.” He doesn’t want to suggest the nursery can be shared, but he wouldn’t mind. “Will this work?”

You smile, reaching out to pat his arm, “this is more than enough, Dieter. It’s perfect.” You promise and he grins, pleased that you are happy. He sighs when Rosie starts to cry and Oliver follows suit, both babies waking up. “Come on daddy, let’s go feed the babies.”

He feels more confident with you beside him. Even if it’s just your presence reminding him that he should test the bottle on the inside of his wrist before popping the nipple in Rosie’s mouth while Oliver is greedily suckling at your breast for his own meal. “That wasn’t too bad.” He grins down at his daughter, eyes wide but slowly starting to close as she gulps down the bottle. “How often do you have to feed Oliver?” He asks, trying to keep his eyes on your face respectfully. You aren’t giving him a show.

“About every one and a half to two hours. Depends on when he’s hungry. He lets me know.” You chuckle and watch your son as his gulps turn into suckles which lead to him falling asleep against your breast. “It’s - it’s exhausting but he’s worth it.” You smile at Dieter who is rocking Rosie. “You’re getting better already. We will make a list of everything we need for you and, um, I guess I better go and pack.” You smile bashfully, knowing this is a big move but it’s what’s best for you and Oliver.

“Why don’t we hire someone to pack you?” Dieter asks with a frown. You have your hands full and he knows that it will take a lot to take care of your son and try to pack. “I’ll pay for it. I don’t mind. That way we can get the nursery set up.”

“Are you sure? I- I don’t know if you’re gonna find someone so late notice. I don’t have much. And I will need Oliver’s crib and -” 

You don’t get to finish because Dieter is pulling out his phone to call Johan and arrange for your things to be moved today. “Whatever it costs.” Dieter says and you swallow, knowing Dieter has more money than you could imagine if he can waste it like that. 

“Thank you.” You tell him, cradling Oliver who is fast asleep.

“It’s nothing.” Dieter waves away the thanks and looks down at Rosie as she finishes the last of her bottle. “Okay little girl, let’s get you to burp, and then maybe a nap?” He asks, grinning. “She has the manliest burps.” He brags, astounded that something so small could make such a racket. “I have the other cradle thingy if you want to lay your son down.”

“The bassinet?” You smirk and he shrugs one shoulder, “I’m still learning.” You nod and let him guide you to the bassinet and you carefully lay Oliver down before adjusting your shirt after clipping your nursing bra. Rosie burps and you giggle softly, liking how proud Dieter is of her and you watch him lay her down in the cradle next to Oliver. “Maybe they will be best friends.” You whisper, leaning closer to him.

“That would be cool.” Dieter imagines it, his own childhood lonely and isolated. There were times he had wished desperately for a built-in friend. “Let’s get out of here before we wake them up.” He has learned that Rosie is cranky if she gets woken up before she’s ready and he doesn’t blame her, he’s the same way. Maybe she got it from him. “So, uh, since there’s two kids….just, um, we’re gonna need that double stroller thingy, right?” Dieter asks as he walks down the hall with you. “And can you show me that carrier thing? The one you have the baby wrapped to your body? That looks cool. Oh, and uh, the diapers. The service, when we get that set up, use it for Oliver too.” He adds. “No need to have two different types of diapers, right?”

You nod, realizing it’s best not to argue. “Let’s leave them to sleep and we can work on getting the nursery set up. I- I really appreciate this opportunity, Dieter.” You tell him and lean in to kiss his cheek. He blushes as you set your phone up as a makeshift baby monitor, calling his phone, and you leave the babies to sleep. Dieter follows you, his eyes dropping down to your ass, and he curses internally when he realizes he finds you hot. 

****

“Dieter!” You call out, trying to find your boss. Oliver and Rosie are having tummy time on the play mat and you need your breast pump. It’s been a couple of months since you moved in with Dieter to become his full time nanny and it’s been surprisingly nice. Rosie is a good girl and you’ve grown to fall in love with her, making sure her and Oliver get equal treatment. “Can you get my pump?” You ask when he doesn’t respond.

“Yeah!” Dieter reluctantly lets go of his cock and tucks it away in his dress slacks. He had been trying to tug one out before he had to go to court, formally getting custody of his daughter. Nervous and not able to get high, jerking off had become even more of a habit than before now he had started thinking about you while he was doing it. You’re so fucking pretty and kind. Looking like an angel as you take care of his daughter. Dieter knows that he’s falling in love with you but he can’t do anything about it. Not willing to risk you leaving and denying Rosie the best nanny in the world. Washing his hands quickly, he rushes to the kitchen to grab the pump where you had cleaned it last night while he sterilized bottles. “Here it is.”

You thank him, breasts aching and you attach the suction, not thinking about Dieter as you sigh in relief at the milk finally being pumped. “Shit. That feels good.” You groan, the whooshing of the machine pumping and you have been pumping enough for Rosie to have milk too. It’s been a lot but you love the babies. “What time do you have to leave?” You ask Dieter, catching him staring at your tits and you hate that it thrills you. He’s so sexy, unintentionally so, and goofy as hell. He’s good with his daughter and you’ve grown close, raising the babies together, and you know it’s getting harder and harder to deny how you feel every day.

“Oh, uh, I gotta leave in twenty minutes.” His cock is still hard in his trousers and he twitches at the groan you make. Every day you pump, having no modesty around him now and you shouldn’t - it’s natural but Dieter still thinks it’s sexy. “I’m nervous.” He admits, glancing over at Rosie as she squeals and waves her arms on her tummy. “I know that my lawyer said it’s a formality, but what if the judge doesn’t like me? What if he takes Rosie from me?”

You shake your head and reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I promise you, it’s gonna be fine, D. You’re a good daddy and that will be shown. I know your past hasn’t been ideal but you got this. You’re a good man, Rosie is lucky to have you. We all are. It’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” You offer him a soft smile and squeeze his hand again.

“I’m more nervous than the night I won my Oscar.” Dieter confesses with a nervous chuckle. He doesn’t tell you that he was high, sure that you could guess that, although he has done anything more than hit his weed pen since you’ve moved in. Rosie is surprisingly therapeutic, although he’s glad she doesn’t understand what he talks about during the nights he gets up with her. The movie is almost halfway done shooting and he’s going to make sure that once he’s done, you get a week off so you can veg for more than a night. He looks down at your joined hands and smiles. “I’ll call you when I get out, okay?” He asks, and you nod, letting go of him. “And eat that kale and beet salad in the fridge”, he throws over his shoulder as he rushes towards the door. “It’s supposed to help the milk supply.”

You roll your eyes playfully, looking back at the babies. “Daddy is silly, isn’t he?” You talk to Rosie and look at Oliver, saddened that he isn’t going to know his father. You wonder what Ollie would think of Dieter. They are similar in a lot of ways but Ollie was always practical, making sure you weren’t in a relationship because of his strenuous job as a firefighter. He didn’t want you to be one of those women sitting around waiting for him. You sigh and wonder what you are going to do about Dieter. It’s too comfortable with him. 

****

“Dinner’s ready!” You call out. The babies are now six and seven months old. Sitting in their baby bouncers, watching you setting the dinner out for Dieter. He’s finished filming and you want to celebrate. The nice bottle of wine on the table alongside his favorite pasta.

“Oh my god, you spoil me.” Dieter groans as he comes into the dining room, freshly showered and in comfortable clothes. Rosie squeals happily and so does Oliver, both of them in their high chairs. Dieter grins leaning in and blowing a raspberry on his daughter’s cheek and then on your son’s. He never thought he was a kid type of person, but his playfulness extends to your son. He’s a good kid and it would not be right when you are so good with Rosie if he ignored the little guy. It makes him imagine that the four of you are a family, a real one and he was coming home from work to all of you. “You didn’t have to do this.”

You shake your head, enjoying the way his hand finds your waist as you reach for the parmesan on the counter. You turn to face him, cupping his cheek, “you just finished filming. You deserve a treat.” You smile, caressing his cheek and your eyes dip down to his lips for a second. He stares at you and you clear your throat, lowering your hand, “let’s eat. You must be starving.” You set the cheese down and glance over at the babies, you fed them while dinner was cooking so now you and Dieter can enjoy your meal.

“How was your day?” He’s finding that this, fatherhood and responsibility, is grounding for him. Not just concentrating on his whims and trolling through boredom. Every day is different and challenging with kids, especially when he’s trying to make sure that none of his own parents' mistakes affect Rosie. “The kids were okay?” He asks, pouring more wine into each of your glasses. You hum in protest but Dieter shakes his head. “Just pump and dump. You deserve more than one glass.” He huffs.

You sigh but let him pour some more wine, it’s been stressful with the babies today. “Rosie decided to throw up all over Oliver and herself so both of them needed a bath and then Oliver managed to get his diaper off in his onesie so he needed another bath and then Rosie wouldn’t stop crying because Oliver wasn’t next to her. It’s been - it’s been a day.” You sigh and Dieter nods, reaching for your hand. It feels so normal, like you’re complaining to your husband about your hectic day over wine and you look up at Dieter, “I love them both so much but today was…it was a lot.”

“I can imagine.” Dieter squeezes your hand gently and once again thinks that it’s odd that you don’t feel like his employee. You feel like his wife, although he’s never kissed you, or touched you like he’s imagined. “Let me take both the kids tonight.” He offers. “I’ve got the next week off before I have to do all the press bullshit for the other movie coming out in two weeks. Why don’t you take a little vacation? A spa or something?” His parenting skills have improved drastically and there have been times where he’s watched Oliver for you. Like when you had to go for another postpartum checkup.

You groan, letting go of his hand so you can continue eating. “I won’t lie…a massage sounds good. My back has been killing me.” You confess, twirling the pasta around your fork and you bite your lip, wondering what a massage from him would be like with his hands. “I wouldn’t mind going to the mall. I need some new clothes that aren't leggings.” You chuckle, “and I need some new underwear.” You sigh before you chew on the pasta.

Dieter’s cock twitches at the thought of your underwear. Not that he sees them. You’ve taken over doing the laundry even though he offered to have someone come in. Or he could help. Insisting that it was no problem. Johan had even commented that you made his house seem like a real home, and Dieter couldn’t deny that. “You could do all that.” He promises. “I’ll watch the kids. I want to spend some time with R and O.”

You feel guilty leaving the kids behind but you trust Dieter, something you never thought you’d say, but he has proven himself to be an amazing father. You smile, “thanks baby.” You tell him and he swallows the wine down. It’s getting harder to deny how you feel. After finishing eating, Dieter helps you clean up while you have the babies in the play pen. “Bedtime for the bubbies.” You coo, picking up Rosie and kissing her hair. “Daddy is gonna change you, baby girl.” You slide her into Dieter’s arms and pick up Oliver.

“Why don’t you go take your own bath?” Dieter offers, grinning down at Rosie. “You’ve had them all day and you said it’s been rough. Go take a bubble bath. I can get them ready for bed.” He’s made huge strides as a father, as a caretaker and now that he’s more confident, he finds he likes it. Kids are fun. And easy to learn how to please. “I can rock them both and get them settled.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, trusting him but you want him to be comfortable. 

“I am for this.” He promises and you nod, “you got this. I- I can feed O before they get to sleep.” You say and he shakes his head. 

“No. I got it.” He promises, knowing he can warm up your milk. 

You lean in to kiss the babies’ heads, “goodnight my loves. I love you so much.” You say to them and you look up at Dieter, offering him a grateful smile. You make your way into the bathroom, sighing in relief when you sink into the tub.

Dieter hums to the babies as he warms up their last bottles of the night. Changed and in clean onesies, they are ready for that last bottle. Smirking to himself as he tests the breast milk on his wrist and barely resists licking it. He wants to try it, but he feels like that might be crossing a line. Getting both of the babies settled in each arm and they can hold their own bottle now with a little help. “You two are like twins, you know that?” He coos at both of them, settling in the rocker on the nursery while they eat. Watching their eyes grow heavier as they suck. You had both decided to keep them in the same nursery, letting them bond and it has worked out so much better than he had ever hoped. He loves Oliver like Rosie and when they fall asleep at the same time, he’s grinning as he holds them for a little longer before shifting to put them to sleep in the same crib. They cried if they were separated, curling up together during the night as if they were twins.

You sigh, relaxing in the hot water until you decide to get out and say goodnight to the babies. You shrug your robe on, tying it as you make your way to the nursery as Dieter leans over the crib. “They asleep?” You whisper and he nods. You caress their heads, loving how they are asleep together, keeping each other safe. Sometimes you see them holding hands in the night. It’s adorable. You rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as you watch them for another moment and he turns his head to kiss your hair. It makes your heart pound and you pull away, letting the babies sleep with the white noise machine running.

Dieter’s hands seem to be twitchy as you walk out of the nursery in front of him. He knows that you are only dressed in a robe and he wants nothing more than to strip you out of it and touch you. Make you shake in pleasure. “Do you want to have a drink?” Dieter asks. “Or are you calling it a night?”

“A drink sounds good. Relax after a long day.” You smile, walking into the kitchen to open the second bottle of wine you’d bought earlier. You work fast to open it, pouring a glass and handing it to him before you settle on the sofa. “You wanna continue watching that show on HBO?” You ask, knowing he hates it when you watch an episode without him.

“Yes!” Dieter lights up and he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You better not have already watched it.” He threatens playfully, handing you the remote. He likes when you relax and loves that you feel completely at home here. It is your home. He leans towards you and takes a sip of the wine. “What do you think is gonna happen, this episode? The previews looked good.”

You nod, shifting closer towards him. “I promise you. I haven’t seen it yet.” You assure him and have another sip of your wine. You love and hate how relaxed you are, how easy this is. How real it feels. Like you’re a proper family. The baby monitor is on the coffee table and you rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as he presses play. You barely watch the show, too focused on the way Dieter feels pressed against you.

About halfway through the show Dieter shuffles, throwing his arm around the backside of the couch and around you. Letting you slide down against him more. You pull the throw blanket over your legs and he smiles, wondering how you are always cold but it’s a cute quirk he’s noticed.

You snuggle into his side, hand finding his chest and you caress the skin under the shirt he always has half buttoned. He sighs and you breathe him in, pleased to feel his heart thumping under your touch. This intimacy, it’s what keeps you satisfied when you yearn for more but you can’t risk it. Your job. Your home. Your life is connected to his and you can’t afford to mess it up. 

“Marry me.” Dieter says and you think you misheard him. 

“What?” You ask, not moving. 

“Marry me.” He repeats and you jerk back from his side so you can look him in the eyes. 

“What- did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I did.” Dieter nods, turning towards you and reaching for your hand. “I love you. I love how you make this house feel like a home. I love how you care for Rosie and I love Oliver.” He adds. “I love coming home to you and I want this-“ he motions around the house and between the two of you. “To be real. I want to touch you, kiss you. Make love to you.” Dieter isn’t a man who talks in terms like ‘making love’ but that’s exactly what it would be. “I think you love me too, don’t you? I know you do.”

You shake your head, wanting to tell him you love him. He’s crazy, he leaves his socks everywhere and he has so many holes in his shirts but he’s kind and whacky and so damn funny. You love him, you’re in love with him, but to marry him would be a bad idea. You can’t risk this life you’ve created together. “Dieter.” You sigh, pulling your hand out of his. “We can’t. We can’t risk the babies. We - if it all went wrong, then I’d be moving out with Oliver and Rosie loses him and vice versa. If it all went wrong, I’d be homeless and I wouldn’t have anything. I can’t risk that for my son. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His heart breaks but he’s determined to convince you this is a good thing. Latching onto what you said about being homeless, his eyes widen. “I’ll buy you a house.” He bursts out. “In your name alone. It’ll be yours. Completely.” He nods to himself, grinning like an idiot and picks up your hand again. “It won’t go wrong, you’re perfect and I love you. I want to be with you and our babies all the time and fuck, I want another baby when you’re ready.” He missed everything about Rosie’s birth and he wants to see your stomach large with a baby, his baby. “But if it did-“ he stresses the word ‘if’, “-you would have a house for you and Oliver. And you could rent it out right now. The money would be yours. Totally yours.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “I can’t - that’s too much. A house here is insane. That’s a crazy amount to put into this. That - a whole damn house? That’s what you want to do?” You ask incredulously and he nods. 

“All I know is that I can’t stop thinking about you. I need you. I love you.” He promises and you swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes. 

Your heart yearns for him yet your head tells you it’s too much of a risk. “Dieter…” You trail off and he frowns, pulling away slightly, sensing your rejection. “I love you.” Your eyes water and a sob escapes your lips as you start to cry. No one has ever been so kind to you. To know he loves you enough to buy a house so you feel secure in case something goes wrong. It has you sobbing.

He lunges forward, crushing you to him in a comforting hug. “Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry. I never want you to cry.” He pleads, sure that he’s messed up somehow. “I’m sorry, I just can’t stop wanting you. Seeing you with our babies, I think- I wish they were ours. Our twins and we had them together.” He rubs your back and pets your hair as you sob into his chest and he tries to think of how he could make you feel better.

You sob into his chest at his words, wishing they were true but it’s not and that’s okay. The babies brought you together and you know you and Dieter would’ve never met if it weren’t for that single moms group. “I - I love you.” You offer him a watery smile as you pull back and he reaches out to gently wipe your tears away. “I love you and I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I love you Dieter.” You confess, cupping his cheeks.

Dieter’s smile is slow, soft and he can’t believe that you are saying yes. He leans in and presses his lips to yours softly. Loving how you immediately open for him to slide his tongue against yours with a groan. Pulling you close against him again, this time shamelessly pressing his body against yours. “I love you.” He promises, kissing down your jaw line. “Do you want to have sex with me? Or do you want to wait?” He wants you in his bed, but if you wanted to wait until the deed to the house was in your hands, he would understand that. He would go out tomorrow and buy you the best house he could find.

You know you’ve spent far too much time thinking about him, having him inside of you, pressing against you, and you know you should slow down but you can’t. “I want you. I don’t want to wait. I want you now.” You tell him breathlessly and you press your lips to his, cupping his cheek while you slide your tongue against his.

Groaning, Dieter pulls you closer and starts to lean you back against the sofa, knowing that he needs to take you to bed but right now, he needs to feel you under him. “So beautiful.” He praises, kissing your chin and nips your skin with his teeth.

You sigh, loving how it feels to have him touch you. His hand sliding along your thigh and you whimper, “Dieter. Please. I want you to touch me.” You plead, guiding his hand to the tie of your robe while your hands caress his chest under his ratty t-shirt.

He hums, twitching against your hip and he leans back and grins at you, “I’m going to, baby. I’m going to make sure you know exactly what you are getting from me.” He pulls your robe open and groans at the sight of your tits. Looking back up at you. “Can I taste?” He asks. “I’ve dreamed of tasting your milk.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing at the thought. “You’ve imagined it?” You ask breathlessly and he nods so you move fast to straddle him, his cock hard against your thigh, and you lean in towards him to kiss him as you shrug your robe off of your shoulders. “You can have a taste.”

He knows your tits are tender, hearing you complain and watching as you sometimes have to massage them. He cups them in his hands, groaning at how full they are, grinning. “Fuck, I can drink it all since you were going to dump it.” He realizes as he leans forward to wrap his lips around one nipple.”

“Oh shit.” You gasp, groaning softly at the relief and arousal coursing through you. You love it. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you watch him gulp down your milk and you’re amazed that he enjoys it. “Oh God baby.” You pant, feeling the relief of your milk draining and the way he sucks on your nipple, biting it now and then.

“Shit.” He gasps, feeling his cock throbbing. “It’s better than I expected.” He moans, switching to your other breasts and he knows this will become a favorite thing for him now. One hand slides down between your thighs and he is so fucking happy to find you wet.

“Dieter. Please.” You beg, needing more from him. It’s been so long since someone touched you. Not since Ollie. You rock down onto his fingers, loving how he rubs your clit while his lips suckle on your other breast. “Oh fuck, D. So good.” You whimper, caressing his shoulders.

“What do you want, baby?” He pulls off your nipple with a pop. “You want me to eat your pussy?” He groans at the thought. “Want to sit on Dieter’s face? Smother me with your cunt?”

You giggle breathlessly, “that’s the only way to shut you up?” You tease and he nods, “one of the few ways.” 

You laugh and he moves fast to shift, laying down and he pulls you over to hover over his face. “Shit baby. So good to me.” You gasp when he drags you down on top of his face.

The first taste is always amazing. Sliding his tongue though your folds as he pulls your hips down onto his mouth. Holding you there as he licks and then sucks on your clit.

You whimper, “baby. Oh baby.” You moan, grinding down onto his face. “So good. So fucking good.” You moan, loving how enthusiastic he is and he squeezes your ass, encouraging you to move. You do, rocking your hips down even more.

He doesn’t care that you two are on the couch or that he is throbbing in his pants. All he cares about is making you moan his name. He knows he will slide inside you as soon as you cum for him. He moans against your clit, loving how you are smothering him just like he wanted you to. Using him for your pleasure.

“Fuck. Fuck. It’s so good, baby.” You pant, lost in the pleasure of his mouth on you. You rock on top of his mouth, his nose pressing against your clit as his tongue pushes deep. “Fuck baby. Yes. Yes. Yes. Keep - keep going.” You beg, moaning his name.

He can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care. Too busy licking into you to feel your walls start to convulse around his tongue. Moaning when the first rush if your juices hit his mouth and your moan of his name almost makes him cum in his pants. Digging his fingers into your hips, Dieter doubles down on making you shriek his name.

You throw your head back as he makes you cum, moaning his name as you clamp down around his tongue. “Fuck baby. Fuck. I- I love you.” You whine when he works you through it and you whimper, lifting off of him when it becomes too much.

Panting like he was the one who had cum, Dieter licks his lips, completely pussy drunk as he caresses your side. Enjoying the boneless way you collapse on top of him as you try to catch your breath. “I love you. Fuck, you’re my new favorite meal.”

You inhale deeply, shifting off of him and you waste no time in tugging his shirt off of him. “Baby. I want to see all of you.” You tell him, tossing the ragged shirt away and you pull his sweats down to expose his cock. “Holy - that’s what you got?” Your eyes are wide at the girth and you wrap your fingers around him.

Dieter groans, bucking his hips and biting his lip in pleasure. “Fuck, is that not enough?” He gasps out. Normally women have no issue with his size but maybe your Ollie was hung like a horse.

“Not enough? Dieter, baby, I’m gonna feel you tomorrow.” You assure him, “I’m gonna need - wow. You might have to get some lube.” You admit and you start to pump him, in awe that your fingers don’t touch. You know it’s been so long since you’ve had sex and he is thick. You’ve always preferred girth over length anyway. “You’re big.” You promise him, leaning in to flick your tongue over the leaking slit.

He preens at your praise, eyes rolling back in his head at the feel of your tongue. “I’ve got lube.” He promises, reaching down and cradling your jaw. “Use it all the time, jerking off thinking about you.” He’s not ashamed of masturbating while thinking of you. “Baby let's go to the bedroom. You can ride me if you want more control.”

You want to suck his cock but you know you’ll have plenty of time to do that later. Right now, you need him inside of you. Releasing his cock, you pick up the baby monitor and stand up, smirking as you make your way to his bedroom. He’s scrambling to get his sweatpants off and you disappear down the hall, throwing over your shoulder, “don’t keep me waiting, Bravo.”

“Shit.” He hisses, eager to chase after you. Noticing that you are headed to his bedroom and not your own. “I’m coming baby, fuck.” He watches your ass shake as you sway your hips. “Gonna buy you the biggest fucking house I can find.”

You giggle, setting the monitor down on the nightstand and you gasp when Dieter’s hands grab your hips, pulling you back into him. You quickly spin and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.” You murmur against his mouth, his hard cock pressing into your stomach.

“I love you too.” Dieter moans softly, sliding his hands down and squeezing your ass. “Do you- do you need me to wear a condom?” He asks, sure that you aren’t wanting to get pregnant so soon after having your son. It wasn’t like you two had discussed birth control.

“No. I- I got an IUD put in. Figured they might as well do it while I was there and it wasn’t painful. I’m clean too. Not been with anyone since Ollie.” You promise and wonder if he’s clean. You don’t know when he slept with someone last. Maybe after you arrived. You don’t know. It’s not like it was your business when you were just his nanny.

He nods. “I uh, I haven’t been with anyone since Rosie has shown up. I’m clean.” He promises, eager to slide inside you and feel you without a barrier. “I didn’t want to do that kind to shit around her. Give her a good example. Don’t want her to be like me.”

You cup his cheeks, “you’re a good father and she’s gonna be just fine. You’re doing a good job.” You remind him, leaning in to kiss along his jaw. “Come on baby, you want me to ride you?” You ask and he nods. You let go of him and he walks over to his nightstand to grab the lube while you kneel on the bed. When he’s laying down, you grab the bottle and squirt some into your hand, wrapping your fingers around his cock to coat him before you swipe your fingers through your folds to make sure you’re slick enough. “Fuck, you’re gonna stretch me out.” You tell him as you straddle him.

“Want to see it.” Dieter pants, chest heaving as he watches you position his cock at your entrance. Moaning your name as you start to sink down on him, he can feel his entire body light up in pleasure at the hot clutch of your cunt. “I love you. I fucking love you.” Dieter cries, his fingers digging into your thighs as you slowly take him deeper, watching your mouth drop open and loving the way you moan his name.

Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto him. He’s so thick, it stings, but you like that. It’s been so long since you had sex and this is the man you love. Your heart pounds in your chest as your thighs meet his, his cock fully inside of you, and his fingers sink into your flesh. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He grunts and you giggle, leaning down to kiss along his jaw. “I fucking love you too.” You murmur, licking along his neck until you are biting his earlobe so you can give yourself a moment to adjust to him.

He whines, unable to stop himself from lurching up in pleasure. “Oh did you like that?” You giggle breathlessly, making him moan and turn his head so you can do it again. 

“More baby, fuck. Want you to mark me up.” He begs, so starved for attention that he needs to drown in it. His hand squeezes your ass again and it takes concentration to not urge you to move, your walls fluttering so deliciously around him.

You love how desperate he is for you. Biting down on his earlobe again and his cock twitches inside of you. You take pity, finally feeling comfortable, and you shift, rocking on his cock while you nibble on his ear, whispering “you’re mine. I’m gonna make sure everyone sees it.” You smirk as you kiss down his neck, sucking and biting on his skin.

“Fuck yes, I’m yours, I’m yours.” Dieter chants, rocking his hips up to chase your cunt when you lift off of him. Hating even the brief few seconds where he’s not buried inside your warmth. “All yours baby.” He groans, closing his eyes at the pure bliss of being able to touch you, to tell you what he’s thinking without worrying about offending you. “Gonna marry you. Give you everything.” He gasps out.

You moan, “I’m yours too. Been yours since I moved into this house. I’m gonna be your wife.” You promise and he groans, hands caressing your back. You kiss his collarbone and shift back, making his cock sink deeper and you grab his hands to help you balance as you ride his cock. “Fuck. Yes. God, so good. So good inside of me.” You ramble, squeezing his hands as you start to pick up the pace.

“God, fuck, your pussy is gold.” His toes curl and he loves how you start to bounce on his cock. Making your tits away heavily and he watches with them unabashed lust. “So fucking gorgeous.” He pants. “Can’t wait to see you pregnant, riding my cock.”

“One day.” You promise with a grin, breathless from how good this feels. You let go of his hands, leaning back to grab his knees, and you grind down onto his cock, hitting just the right spot to make you gasp. “Fuck, baby. Oh my - I’m - it’s gonna make me cum.” You confess, reaching down to rub your clit.

Dieter frowns and slaps your hand away, pouting up at you. “Let me.” He insists, pressing his thumb to your clit and rubbing a tight circle over the bundle of nerves while you bounce on his cock. “Fuck baby, cum, please cum. I’m gonna -“ he hisses. “Not gonna last. Too fucking tight.” Your walls clenching down around him every other bounce is getting to be too much and he grits his teeth, praying he lasts long enough for you to soak his cock.”

Your moans are getting breathier as you struggle to breathe from the pleasure. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Dieter. I’m gonna - oh!” You moan, clamping down on his cock and soaking him, his thumb still working your clit until your thighs are shaking. “Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, wanting to feel it as you convulse on top of him from your orgasm.

You don’t have to say anything else. His entire body is aching to cum, gripping your hips harshly as he starts to thrust wildly up into your body. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shiiiiiiiiiit.” Dieter whines, burying his cock half a dozen more times before his back is bowing and he is crying out your name, filling you with hot spurts of his seed.

You pant, collapsing onto his chest as his cock twitches inside of you, and you kiss along his neck. Unable to speak, you enjoy the aftermath of your orgasms. The connection you feel to Dieter has you on cloud nine. He’s a good father and a good man, despite what the paps print. He’s changed for his child and that makes you love him more. “Good?” You ask breathlessly, hoping he enjoyed it as much as you did.

“So fucking good.” Dieter’s eyes are closed and his expression is one of pure relaxation. Enjoying the way you feel on top of him. “God, you’re spending the night right here. Every night from now on.” He slides a hand up and down your back, enjoying the feeling of your slick skin under his palm. “Now we just need the kids to sleep through the night.”

“Soon. They are getting better. And you want another one to keep us awake?” You tease, giggling when his cock twitches inside of you. 

“I do.” He promises and you caress his cheek, leaning back to look into his eyes. “Me too. One day.” You lean in to softly kiss his lips, knowing you want this man to be your husband, to be everything. **** 

“Diet, babe. Can you get me that - shit.” You hiss after you feel the baby kick your ribcage. 

“Bad word mama.” Rosie points at you and you nod, “sorry, love. Mama needs to sit down.” You tell the three year old. Ollie comes over to sit down on the sofa next to you, his small hand on your belly as he leans in to talk to the baby in your belly. Rosie follows suit, wanting to do what her brother is doing. 

“Hello baby. It’s me. Your big brother-” 

“and sister.” Rosie adds as she leans in to press her ear to your stomach. You smile, tears in your eyes and look up to see Dieter walk into the living room. 

“You called baby?” He asks, paint splattered all over him from painting the new nursery. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Can you- can you get me some ice cream?” You bite your lip, knowing he’s been run ragged with your cravings.

Dieter grins, shoving his hand through his paint flecked hair, although he teases that the gray is because of you and the babies. “What kind of ice cream do you want, babe?” He strides over and rubs your bump before dropping a kiss on your lips. “Rocky road or are you wanting that cheesecake strawberry swirl?” He knows you will probably text him with more cravings, but he doesn’t mind. You are carrying his baby and you get what you want.

You smile at him, loving how flustered he looks when he has to go get your cravings, and you run your fingers over the kids’ heads before they look up at Dieter. 

“Can we have ice cream, daddy?” Rosie asks, that pout she definitely got from Dieter on her face. 

Oliver nods, “yes! Vanilla.” 

Rosie shakes her head, “chocolate!” 

You giggle and look at your husband, “I’ll have rocky road. Guess it’s an ice cream day.” You say and the kids cheer, excited to have ice cream.

“Vanilla, chocolate and rocky road.” Dieter nods, smiling down at the kids. He could never deny them much and while they would be considered spoiled, they were very well behaved. “Oh-“ he snaps his fingers. “Before I forget. The management agency called. They found another renter for the house and said that the repairs for the house were minimal, just paint to freshen up.” 

True to his word, he had bought you a house, deeded it in your name and hired a management company to handle the day to day issues and repairs. All of the profits were deposited into a bank account that was solely yours, even though you had access to everything of Dieter’s. “So that’s a weight off before the baby comes.”

The money going into that bank account is going to pay for the kids’ college. You won’t use it for yourself, not when you are happily married to Dieter. “Yes. Glad they managed to find another tenant.” You smile, reaching for his hand to kiss the back of it. 

“Daddy!” Oliver rushes over to him after shifting off of the sofa. 

“Yeah, buddy?” Dieter groans as he bends over to pick him up. 

“Can I come? To get ice cream?” He asks and Dieter nods, “of course.” You smile, loving how close Oliver and Dieter are. You adopted Rosie and he adopted Oliver not long after you were married. It felt natural and meant to be. Your little family, complicated but perfect. 

“We will be right back. Rosie, you wanna come?” Dieter asks and she shakes her head, climbing onto the sofa. 

“I wanna stay with mommy.” You pull her close, “we can watch our show while the boys are out.” You tell her in a playful whisper and she grins. 

“We will be back soon.” Dieter promises and you smirk at him, “after ice cream, the kids need to nap. Mommy needs ‘nap time’ too.” You say to Dieter and he smirks back at you, “what mommy wants, mommy gets.” He promises, knowing he wants you to moan his name while the kids are asleep. From Rosie getting shoved into his arms on a random day, to having a family with a baby on the way. Dieter never imagined being a family man but now, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Through Every Forest

V/V: Run

Relationship: dark!Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega!Fem reader

Words: ~4.8k

Summary: Will Curtis finally make you his?

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral, p in v, knotting, kinda acrobatic 69), Omegaverse, possessive Curtis, primal kink, mentions of non con activities, rut and heat, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!

A/N: The finale! Our insane babes have feelings? Curtis is a whole fucking meal. I’m just so happy they’re getting the ending they deserve and hope y’all enjoy!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on the latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You groaned when you woke up, your wounds still sore even though it had been almost two weeks. But then you felt Curtis’s heart beating under your cheek, your eyes fluttering open so you could gaze at his face. He had spent every night with you since your last disaster of a hunt, and most of his days as well except when he had to take meetings, gently helping you as you recovered from your injuries.

But he was still angry, growling each time he had to leave you and deal with the rich, entitled assholes his operation catered to. They were making him rich, but after the fiasco of your last hunt he trusted the dicks who paid him even less. Even the fact that he had rooted out Bryce and gotten rid of the rebellious elements of his organization didn’t help his mood, Carter being the only Alpha he would trust anywhere near you.

The only thing that could make him feel any better was you, being close to you and knowing that you were safe keeping him more happy than he would ever admit. You were his now, no one else deserved you or could handle you. He was sick of pretending otherwise, even though he was still grumpy about it.

It was hard to stay grumpy when he woke up to the feeling of your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock though, groaning before he even opened his eyes and resting his hand on your head. Once he was fully awake he looked down at you, chuckling at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his sensitive head. You hummed when he stroked your cheek gently before gripping the back of your head and forcing himself down your throat, gagging and drooling all over him as you gave him a reproachful look.

“Don’t you fucking glare at me, little girl.” He popped you on the cheek once before fucking up into your mouth again, grinding against your face and purring when when he felt your nails digging into his hair-covered thighs. “Acting like you don’t love this shit when I can smell that little pussy drooling like a bitch.”

You just rolled your eyes while you swallowed around him, breathing through your nose when he started fucking your throat in earnest. He was right, you did love this. Your pussy was throbbing and clenching while his cock filled your mouth and stretched your lips until they stung, your jaw aching from being forced open so wide for such a long time. Then he yanked on your hair and wrapped his free hand around your neck and you moaned around him, choking when he squeezed until your throat constricted around his thick cock.

“That’s a good little ‘mega, fucking Christ.” Curtis grunted and threw his head back when you swallowed around him, his hips grinding against your face as he kept gripping your throat to make your muscles tighten around his dick. “You’re gonna let me knot that pretty mouth, aren’t you baby girl?”

Even though you couldn’t answer him he could see in your eyes you would, that you wanted it. Your tongue slid along his shaft as you slobbered all over him and yourself, and you could have sighed when his fingers massaged your scalp as he pushed your head up and down on his cock. His precum ran down your throat as he let you bring him closer, his voice leaving him in a low growl when you brought a hand up to play with his balls.

He couldn’t get enough of watching you like this, of knowing how much you enjoyed being used by him. It’s what let him know you were the only one who deserved him, just like he was the only one who deserved you. The two of you were made for each other, both of you vicious and primal, survivors of the circumstances life threw at you who made the best of your respective situations. And all he wanted was to make sure you never had to survive anything else.

When you squeezed his balls he bit his lip, his eyes heavily lidded as he watched your wide stretched lips grip his cock. He could feel himself starting to swell, his balls pulling tight and his knot inflating while he fixed his gaze on yours. You gagged when he squeezed your throat so tight you couldn’t breathe, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision going blurry as your cunt clenched and fluttered around nothing.

Curtis bit off a roar when he shot his thick, hot cum down your throat, his hips jerking against your face while his knot locked him behind your teeth. You swallowed every drop eagerly, your eyes bright as you laved your tongue all over him and watched his face contort in bliss. Every time you made him come you knew you would kill any Omega who tried to take him from you, no weak little bitch could ever do for him what you could. If only he would actually fuck you.

“My good girl, c’mere little one.” Curtis snorted when you just whined around his knot as he leaned down and grabbed your hips, keeping your head in his lap while he lifted your body off the bed until your ass was resting against his chest and your legs were hooked over his broad shoulders. “Good thing you’re so flexible, filly, makes everything I want to do to you that much easier. Watch your fucking teeth.”

You choked when he shoved fingers from both hands inside your pussy and pulled your clenching walls apart, his tongue pushing inside you and lapping up your slick like he had been walking in the desert for a week and you were his oasis. His beard rubbed at your folds until they were raw, your clit throbbing against his upper lip while he rubbed the inside of your pussy even as he swirled his tongue inside you. When he pulled back and spat on your cunt you shivered, your throat constricting around his cock when he smeared it all over your soft lips with the calloused pads of his fingers.

Curtis groaned against your skin when your tongue started running all over his cock again, kissing your pussy almost reverently before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. Even though he couldn’t see your face he could feel the pleasure coursing through you, your body shivering in his arms while his tongue pressed inside you once more. He had to pull away from you when you moaned around him, though, his knot swelling even more as he shot another load down your spasming throat.

“Goddamn, you just wanna have a knot in your mouth all fucking day, huh girl?” Curtis smiled and bit the inside of your thigh when you just whimpered in response, smacking your cunt and grunting when it made you let out a muffled squeal. “C’mon little one, don’t have the time to keep your mouth stuffed full, no matter how good you feel. Gimme a big one.”

He started rubbing your cunt viciously, his other arm wrapped around your waist and holding you tightly to his body while you gushed slick all over him. When he slapped your pussy again you choked as you tried to scream around his knot, your back arching and your toes curling when he kept spanking your sensitive flesh until you were soaked. You were so close, your chest heaving with ragged breaths as you struggled to control yourself even as your eyes rolled back in your head.

Three fingers plunged inside you and pressed against that perfect spot and you screamed, your entire body going stiff as you came apart at the seams. Curtis laughed softly when you squirted all over his face, dragging his tongue over you slowly to lick you clean as you kept quivering in his arms. It took another minute for his knot to go down enough for him to slide out of your mouth, and you moaned when he turned your body so you were sitting in his lap with your cheek pressed against his chest. You sighed when he scented the top of your head, letting your eyes fall closed as his hand ran over your spine while he looked out the window.

“How does your thigh feel today, filly?” Curtis kissed your hair and gently touched the scar on your side, smiling when you didn’t flinch. “You gonna be up for a longer walk?”

“Yeah.” You hummed when you felt his heart beating under your cheek. “No cane today.”

“Fucking stubborn… fine.” He had been trying so hard not to baby you after you were shot, but he couldn’t help but still feel guilty for putting you in a situation where you had been injured. “Just make sure you eat all your food and take your pain meds.”

You still let him help you walk to the table once a Beta brought your breakfast in, leaning on his arm then sitting in his lap so he could keep an eye on you. Even though he wasn’t babying you, he still refused to let you out of his reach, never wanting you more than an arm’s length away so he could ensure he was there to catch you if you fell. Once you had finished your breakfast he helped with your stretches, calling you his good girl when you just groaned at him pressing your knee to your chest before massaging your thigh. Your walk was slow, especially without the cane, and you still hadn’t gotten used to being allowed to roam the grounds without a collar and leash. Curtis smiled at you when you held onto his arm and looked up at him, letting you rest when you reached the fence at the edge of the compound.

“Do you have meetings today?” Your leg was throbbing a little but you tried not to let it show, leaning your cheek against his arm and shivering when an autumn breeze blew through the trees.

“Just one.” Hopefully his last one for a while. “And you have a checkup, so no bitching about being left all by yourself.”

You snorted when he started to lead you back to the compound, scenting his chest and sighing as his fingers ran over your spine. He kissed you before he left you in the medical center, his hand gripping the back of your neck and his fingers pressing against your gland until you were sighing into his mouth. Curtis nodded to the Beta doctor before leaving you, reluctance written all over his face when he moved back down the hall to his offices.

The doctor was gentle but thorough as he examined you, helping you stretch your limbs and making sure your mobility was still doing well as you recovered from being shot. In spite of some residual stiffness you were doing well, and he gave you the go ahead to stop using the cane which you couldn’t be more pleased about. He did warn you that with your heat coming up in a few weeks you needed to be careful about not over exerting yourself, but aside from taking a blood sample he was fine sending you back to your quarters.

Curtis’s meeting went well also, managing to land the whale after promising him a once in a lifetime opportunity and shaking his hand. His own visit to the med center went as expected, but he still had a slight frown on his face when he went back to your rooms. He just hoped you would be understanding about what he had to do.

“Hey honey.” When you were stretching when he walked in he smiled, helping you to your feet and cradling your face in his hands as he gazed into your eyes. “You look good, like you’re feeling better.”

“I am.” You could smell the change in him, like he was stressed about something. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re too fucking observant for your own good.” Curtis grumbled before bending to rest his forehead against yours. “I… shit. I have to leave for two weeks.”

“What?!” You hissed and grabbed his shirt when he tried to pull back, the look in your eyes full of distress. “The fuck you are. Where are you going?”

“That’s not important.” He hated that expression on your face, but he couldn’t stay. Curtis set his jaw and wrapped his hand around your throat, pressing his thumb against your carotid and growling until you started to relax. “This isn’t a punishment, and my people will still be reporting to me, so no throwing your fucking tantrums or I’ll take it out on your ass when I’m back.”

“You fucking bastard.” You groaned when he slapped you, wheezing when he squeezed your neck tighter and pulled you close to scent your hair. “I can’t believe you’re abandoning me, after everything…”

“I told you, I’m not abandoning you.” Curtis couldn’t stop himself from kissing you deeply, winding his arms around you and sighing when you purred against his lips. “I’ll be back, don’t be a fucking bitch the whole time I’m gone, be my good girl.”

“Wait, Curtis…” You dragged him back to you and kissed him again, just restraining yourself from climbing into his arms. “You promise you’ll be back?”

“Of course.” He rubbed your mating gland and frowned when you gave him a pathetic expression. “You’re mine now, I’m not leaving you. Just keep being good for me.”

You tried not to whine when he finally left your shared rooms, hating the disgusting, needy feeling that was sitting in your chest. That feeling didn’t go away the next day, or the day after that. But you still wanted to be good, he had to be coming back. He was the only one you trusted, the only one who made you feel safe. So you ate all your meals, and did all of your physical therapy exercises. You even let Carter walk you around the compound to make sure your mobility was continuing to improve. It wasn’t the same without him, though. Every night when you tried to fall asleep all you could think about was how cold the bed was without Curtis.

Two weeks passed so slowly without him. You should have hated how upset you were when he wasn’t with you, but all you could feel was lonely. It was even worse that your heat snuck up on you a week early, making you moan and whine as cramps made you double over and slick stain your thighs. When the sun began setting on the fourteenth day you started when Carter came into your rooms unannounced, frowning when he held up a white silk shift and looked at you expectantly.

“What is that for?” You shivered and groaned in your nest when he came closer, gripping one of Curtis’s shirts tightly when another cramp wracked you. “I’m not supposed to do hunts anymore.”

“It’s from Curtis.” Carter sighed, not enjoying the subterfuge so matter how necessary it was. “I’m going to take you to see him. He asked you to trust him.”

“You… alright.” You scowled and plucked the shift from his grip, waiting until he turned around to take off your sweats and put on the nightie. “If this is some kind of trick I’ll fucking kill the both of you.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He chuckled when you just sniffed at him and let him lead you out of your quarters. “That’s why you’re the boss’s girl.”

You found your face heating up when he called you Curtis’s girl. It was stupid, but with how damn hormonal you were you felt flattered. The two of you didn’t talk while he drove you out towards the hunting grounds, your anxiety starting to go up when you saw a collection of bright lights centered on a clearing right in front of the lodge. Another cramp hit you and you whined, shivering in the cool night air and grateful that Carter was on suppressants so you didn’t have to worry about that on top of everything else.

One of Curtis’s Alphas was speaking to a group of strange Alphas on the lodge’s balcony, and you could see Betas moving through the group as they took bets. In front of them was a cage, and you could hear the speaker going over the Prime Alpha specimen and you felt your blood freeze. The scent of his rut hit you and you doubled over when your cunt throbbed, snarling at Carter when he parked the jeep.

“What’s going on?” You tried to pull away when Carter took your arm and started to pull you towards the clearing but he was too strong. “Is this a fucking joke?”

“No.” Carter shook his head when he thrust you under the lights. “It was his idea.”

You whined when you saw Curtis in the cage prowling around like a dangerous animal. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were wild, and you’d never smelled a rut so potent. Every instinct you had was begging you to submit, to bend over and present to him so he could knot you and get rid of the fever and pain that was torturing you. The sight of him restrained like that was killing you, making you reach out to him until he slammed against the bars.

“I can fucking smell you.” His voice was a vicious growl, sending a vibration through your whole body that made you whimper. “I’m gonna pin you down and fuck you like a bitch until my pup’s in your belly.”

“You rat bastard.” Being so close to him while both of you were victim to your primal urges was making you lose yourself, suddenly pressing your body against the bars and keening when he did the same with a snarl. “You left me by myself just so you could mate me for a fucking audience? I should kill you.”

“You can try, ‘Mega.” He wanted to lick you everywhere, you smelled so fucking good, making his hard cock throb painfully until he had to practically hump the bar he was leaning against. “Don’t think it’s gonna go your way. Besides, not like I could stay around that ripe fucking cunt for two weeks while my suppressants wore off without fucking you senseless.”

“Not my fault you wanted to turn into a fucking caveman.” Your body was screaming at you to give yourself to the Alpha, to present, to breed. You’d never felt anything like it, mewling and keening while you scented the bars right in front of his chest. “You could’ve told me what the fuck was going on.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Curtis rammed into the bars again and rumbled when you tilted your head back so he could see your swollen gland, licking his lips as he thought about what it was going to feel like when he finally knotted you. “Goddamn, I can’t wait to breed that little pussy. You’d better run for your fucking life, bitch.”

The two of you kept snarling at each other and grinding against the bars of his cage, your eyes blown wide with desire and need as your skin itched to be pressed against each other. Then the shot went off and you gave him one more smile, biting your lip before turning on your heels and sprinting into the woods. You didn’t even want to bother trying to find a hiding place, you just wanted to run. You wanted him to chase you down and catch you and pin you to the ground while he claimed you. Your blood was up, the moon was bright as it shone through the trees, and you wanted to give in to the wild instincts that were coursing through your veins.

There was no point in trying to be careful, so you let your body crash through the brush as branches whipped against your face and arms, leaving your blood on the sharp wood as they scraped and scratched your skin. After twenty minutes of running you heard a howl and almost collapsed when an enormous cramp made your core clench, your breath coming heavily as you fought through the pain and kept running. You could hear the trees groaning and shaking far away, knowing that he was drawing closer by the second and pumping your limbs even faster until your lungs were burning.

Curtis snarled viciously when he caught your scent, ripping a branch off one of the trees and throwing it aside after it slashed across his chest. He didn’t even feel the sting, completely consumed by the unquenchable lust that was filling his body. Your scent was calling to him like a beacon, your trail so clear he could have found you with his eyes closed. You were so close, and you were his. The fact that he had waited so long to claim you seemed stupid now when he was lost in a haze of pure want for you and the pups you would give him.

The air changed, and there you were. Both of you smelled each other at the same time, pausing to gaze at each other for just a moment before Curtis roared and you took off again. He chuckled when he heard you whimper, leaping over a fallen tree and stretching his legs to their limit so he could catch you. You were quick, but so was he, with longer limbs and not wracked by the constant pain you were as your heat tried to drive you to submit to him.

When he caught you you yelped, panting heavily as the two of you tumbled to the forest floor and he wound his body with yours in a tangle of limbs. Curtis shredded the delicate fabric of your shift with a snarl before he started scenting you obsessively, his lips meeting yours for only a moment then his face was buried in your neck. You could feel slick leaking down the insides of your thighs when he dragged his nose over your throat, your pussy throbbing as he breathed deeply and growled before moving to rub his face against your soft breasts. He chuffed when he lifted your arm so he could breathe in where you were most potent, making you shudder when he licked the smooth skin of your armpits then began biting his way down your stomach.

Curtis let out a deep growl and rolled you onto your stomach, biting your ass and barring his massive arm across the small of your back when you tried to wriggle away from him. He buried his face between your legs and started lapping up your slick, groaning at your taste while you quivered at his touch. As soon as he sat back up you presented for him, panting while you arched your back and bent your knees under your body.

“That’s a good little bitch.” Curtis ran his nose up your spine until his body was caging yours in, reaching down between the two of you to undo his fly while he licked your gland. “Gonna breed the fuck out of this little pussy, you’re mine.”

As soon as he shoved his cock inside you he sank his teeth into your gland and made you scream. His hands were braced on either side of your head as he began to rut into you, his voice rough each time he grunted against your skin. He was stretching you so wide it almost hurt, but you loved it. You dug your fingers into the soft earth when he started moving faster inside you, whining and biting your lip while his hips drove your body into the ground.

Curtis threw his head back and howled when you clenched around him and gasped as your first orgasm ripped through you. Your blood was filling his mouth and he’d never felt more alive, tangling his fingers with yours where your hands were braced against the forest floor. His breath came in heavy grunts as he kept fucking you in deep strokes, your body trembling as another gush of slick was pushed out of you by his fat cock. When he leaned back down to lick your neck you mewled, tilting your head to the side so he could suck on your new mark and lap it clean.

“Say it.” He nuzzled at your hair and crooned when you keened for him, his cock pummeling your swollen, wet pussy until he was soaked in your juices. “Say you’re mine.”

“Curtis…” You whimpered when he bit your ear and squeezed your hands with his. “I’m yours.”

“Fucking right you’re mine.” Curtis wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground, swallowing your sharp gasp when he pulled out of you so he could pin you against a tree. “Just mine.”

You wailed when his thick cock penetrated you again, the rough bark of the tree scraping your back as he hammered into you. His breath was hot against your neck as he pressed his body close to yours, chuffing in your ear while your pussy stretched and flexed around him. When you dug your nails into the bunching muscles of his back he groaned, driving deeper and grinning when you gave him a satisfying cry.

The look in his eyes was wild when he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers gripping your waist so tight they were going to bruise. You knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. You needed it, and him. You were never letting him go.

Curtis snarled when you bit his gland at the same time you squirted all over his cock, taking one hand off your waist so he could punch the tree right next to your head so hard the wood cracked. When the bond opened up you both groaned, the intensity of your shared emotions crashing around you as you smashed your lips together. His tongue curled against yours when you wound your arms around his neck, his knot starting to swell as his balls pulled tight.

The bond confirmed that the two of you possessed each other completely, your savage, primal instincts flooding your systems as you lost yourselves in each other. Curtis’s drool was running down your chin while he kissed you sloppily, making you moan as he kept his cock sheathed to the hilt and ground against your swollen clit until you shuddered. Your cunt clenched around him and he roared, his eyes screwing shut as he felt himself teetering on the edge of his peak.

You sobbed when his knot fully inflated and locked him inside you, letting him hold you up while his thick, warm cum flooded your womb. Both of you growled into each other’s mouths while you stayed pressed together, your eyes drinking each other up. Curtis kept rolling his body against yours as you both rode your pleasure out, wanting nothing so much as to keep you full of him for the next four days. Then the sound of one of the drones filled your ears and you hissed when a sharp stinging pain hit your neck. You saw a dart hit Curtis right before you blacked out, your body slumping against his.

When you woke up you were in a strange room, the window looking out at the empty woods where red and gold leaves were falling. You purred when you realized someone had transferred your nest to wherever you were, rubbing your face against one of Curtis’s shirts before rolling over to find him beside you. As soon as he felt you stir he opened his eyes and crawled on top of you, grunting when he just thrust inside you again immediately.

“Ah, fuck.” You moaned when he started to fuck you, your mouth falling open when he grabbed your neck and turned your face so he could lick into your mouth. “Where are we?”

“My cabin.” He drove deep and chuckled when your eyes rolled back in your head. “Had them knock us out so we didn’t rip them apart when they tried to move us. God, you feel so fucking good.”

“I know… shit.” You gripped his shirt tightly when his hips picked up speed, panting into his mouth while your pussy fluttered around him. “Don’t stop.”

“Mine. All fucking mine.” Curtis kissed you deeply and smiled against your lips when you moaned for him. “Anyone touches you again and I’ll rip their fucking spines out.”

“And if you ever go back to any of those whimpering bitches,” You bit his bottom lip until you tasted blood. “I’ll cut your dick off.”

“Good girl.” He growled and started grinding into you again, gripping the hair at the base of your skull and yanking your head back so he could lick your throat. “Don’t want any other bitch, just you and this sweet little cunt. You’re done running.”

[violetscanfly]

It's been a while huh? How about a long ass trolls au post? Would that be anything?

Ok but seriously I'm obsessed with them and wrecked my sleep schedule for two nights in a row because I was having so much fun drawing them. I haven't seen any crossovers yet and I have many thoughts about how the mdzs/trolls lore works.

I was thinking about making each clan a different type of troll (the lans would fit classical so well etc but I wasn't really into the cupid aesthetic lmao) but the point of this at the beginning was just to get rid of major art block by drawing cute trolls so I just did whatever :'D

The gist of it is Wei Wuxian is a rock troll adopted into the pop troll society by the jiangs and in his yiling laozu era he fully leans into the rock side of himself that he used to suppress to fit in. I had to make Chenqing into an electric guitar, obviously, (rip wangxian duet) and he uses it to control rock zombies. As usual he gets resurrected by Mo Xuanyu (Did he die by being eaten? Maybe.) and his final form reflects both his love for pop while embracing his rock side as well. Also yes, the Jin trolls are yellow, so.

Since the Lan clan are not really classical trolls I thought they're instead more of the love ballad type of pop, (fits the lans only love once thing too!) so, very sentimental. Which makes Lan Wangji stand out by being cold and seemingly closed off while he's secretly composing love songs for Wei Wuxian. Design-wise I felt the lans would wear more layers and keep their hair tied but I wanted to differentiate the style from Wei Wuxian's ponytail so it's either a half tied up (down? since troll hair goes up??) or a bun. I thought it was funny to give Lan Wangji a huge hairpiece to keep the high hair thing going even when it's tied. Also it kinda marks his age, the taller it is the older he is. Maybe it's a status symbol as well.

I didn't really put too much though into A-Yuan since I just randomly decided to add him cause baby trolls are adorable but basically just Wen colours and the pigtails are homage to manhua A-Yuan whom I love.

Overall I tried to mix design elements from both ips and I really like how they turned out. I think that's all for now. :'D

[thepenultimateword]

Monstrous Part 2

Part 1

CW: Experimentation, injuries

Everything hurt. A thousand needles under the surface of Hero's skin, plunging deeper and deeper, into muscle, organs, bone.

She shrieked, surging against the many sets of hands pinning her to the gurney. Beakers and test tubes shattered; one of the monitors began to smoke. Hero caught a glimpse of hands over ears and the mess of blood and feathers blanketing the floor before being shoved back cheek first into the table.

"Where's my sedative?" shouted Dr. Penn. His familiar, harsh hands had Hero by the scruff of her neck, making her dizzy with the almost strangling pressure.

"I need stitches!" cried another voice.

"Shut up, Lancaster!" Penn barked. " You're the one at fault! Sedative then serum! How many times do I have to say it?"

"That thing attacked me!" Lancaster cried, voice as sharp as his blood on the otherwise sterile air.

A rush of rage surged through Hero's burning body, and she flapped her wings violently, breaking a few of her captors' hold.

"Will somebody bind those things down!" Penn said.

Another set of hands forced her wings into an expert fold, tearing loose a few feathers along the way, then wrapped the binding strap so tight it ached. "We should just cut the things off," the new scientist said. Dr. Sunfield. Hero shuddered involuntarily. The woman's threats were never empty.

"Yeah? And then how is she supposed to get around?" Penn snarled. "The bus? We all agreed on a mobility element."

Sunfield gave the restraints an unnecessary tug, causing Hero to shriek. "They weren't supposed to get so big. She looks like a blasted vulture."

"They're only going to get bigger. The rest of her too. Her growth plates are still showing on the x-rays."

Sunfield cursed. "This is a disaster."

"At least she's been useful data."

Something sharp and stinging plunged into Hero's neck, followed by a nauseating chill that washed from head to toe. The sedative at last. She wasn't sure whether to be scared or relieved. The pain would finally stop, but what else would they poke her with while she was under? The scientists loosened their grip, and she took advantage of that to swing her claws toward Penn's voice. Her limbs were already more sluggish than she'd realized. The doctor caught her wrist, giving her fingers a bone-cracking squeeze before stroking her limpening knuckles with his thumb. His other hand tucked her tangled hair behind her ears. "Besides, we were asked to give the city something to get rid of Supervillain, and that's what we did. She may be monstrous, but a monstrous masterpiece nonetheless."

"The city can't market monstrous. There's backlash from the citizens every day, and that cuts into our funding."

"Don't worry." Penn's voice seemed to slow and stretch, and he dropped Hero's arm with a dull thud. "The next ones will be heroes the city can trust."

Hero shot upright. A sharp pain shot through both temples, and the melty, slanted surroundings immediately slumped her back onto her elbows. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for her head to stop feeling to heavy for her neck.

"Oh! You're awake," came a drawling masculine voice. It sounded roaring. "How do you feel?"

Hero winced. "Floaty." She dared crack her eyes and squinted around the room. Shelves and shelves of alcohol and jarred olives glistened in the weak orange light. A faint electric buzz resonating from the metal door on the wall adjacent hinted at a refrigerated room. She rose slower this time, hoisting her aching wings shut and swinging her legs over the side of the rickety cot.

"Wait, wait! Don't pop your stitches; they're still fresh!"

A figure leaped up from the ground at the cot's head, and Hero slowly recalled his tangled hair and lean stature.

"Where am I?" she demanded, more threat than question.

The man held out his hands, the one she’d clawed now wrapped in bandages. Once again, he didn’t seem particularly put off by her behavior.

"Backroom at Foghorn. It’s a bar. Particularly for upstanding citizens like myself. People are always crashing here when they get into scraps. They have more medical supplies than my place. Better pain medication. That's probably what's making you feel floaty."

“You kidnapped me,” Hero snarled.

The man shrugged, a motion almost like rolling his shoulders, like brushing her off and getting ready to stand his ground all in one. “I hate to argue with a lady who could probably turn me inside out, but you did pass out in the middle of the street. So any 'kidnapping' on my part was really nothing more than a rescue effort."

Hero gave the man a hard look. Rescue effort? She wasn't buying that. People didn't rescue things like her. Not without a ten-foot pole. And this guy didn't look like the trimmed poodles the labs or the agency usually sent to spy on her.

“What’s your motive?"

“No motive," the man said. "I was in the area.”

“You said we’ve met?”

The man grinned whipping a business card from the inside pocket of his shirt and rolling it over his knuckles and--with a bowing flourish-- into her hand. “Villain. You killed my old boss.”

She blinked at the unimpressive piece of cardstock, blank but for a nicely typed name and a phone number. His words sank in slowly.

Ah. A criminal. And one of Supervillain's mess. She'd taken out all the big players, so he must have been telling the truth about being in the background.

“You want revenge then?” she said. That made more sense. Watching her die in the street would have meant nothing to him. He had to save her and break her himself. Inflict the same pain she inflicted on--

“No, we threw a nice little party after you left." Villain plopped crisscross at her feet. He rested his cheek in his hand and stared casually up at her. "Honestly, the boss was suffocating, but what can you expect from someone with a chokehold on your life."

"You...wanted me to kill him?"

"You mean did we want rid of the giant gun at our heads?"

Hero bristled a little at the sarcasm. What did she know about villainous politics? She was just given a problem, and she got rid of it.

"With Supervillain it was black or white," Villain continued. "Ally or enemy. And you did not want to be an enemy. So ally it was. Pawn is closer to the truth. No, we can finally spread our wings--if you'll excuse the analogy--without being seen as competition."

He leaned in conspiratorially.

"If I may be so bold, I think I've had a little crush since the moment I saw you."

Hero slammed the cot against the wall with a metallic crash as she stood, looming darkly over Villain's bony curled-up frame.

"Shut up."

Villain's brow knit together. "Of course, I don't expect anything from that confession, I simply wanted to say the way you just ripped into him was fantastic. And your voice. That precision! You were--"

"Shut. Up."

This time Villain did flinch. Hero took some satisfaction from that. It was a little frightening when the tired and true defenses didn’t work.

“I can take a beating. They make jabs about me every day on television, and that's fine. But I will not be made fun of. I won't be the butt of your sick, simpering jokes. Or are you trying to manipulate me? You think you can flatter me, and I'll fall over myself to help you? I am not an idiot."

Villain opened his mouth, and Hero braced herself for more lies. Maybe her guard showed on her face because slowly he shut it again, fixing her in a steady hazelnut stare. Eventually, he tipped his chin at her. "I'll get some ice for that wing."

Hero turned her head over her shoulder. The aching wing had begun sliding back toward the floor. She attempted to lift it against her back again but a sharp electric pain stopped her short.

"Here." Villain touched her lightly on the shoulder, drawing her out of her wince. He held out a frozen pack of fries from the refrigerator room. “It’s not much, but better than nothing.”

Hero glared but snatched the pack from his hand. The cot creaked as she dropped back on the edge and slowly extended her wings to the dusty concrete. Her feathers pulled a little against the dried grime, and she had to strain to press the cold to the aching joint where wing connected to back, but it did help.

Villain's eyes still didn't stray away; they actually looked more focused glued to her wings. What was his deal?

"Your wings," he said slowly. "Does it bother you... I mean...would you like something to clean them with?"

Hero glanced at greasy, blackened ends, dredged with oil and refuse. She fought down a grimace. Yes, it bothered her. It was sticky and crusted and uncomfortable, but it wasn't the first time she'd dealt with this sort of discomfort. At least it wasn't blood.

"I'm used to it," Hero grumbled. "They're always hard to keep clean."

"Can't you get them wet?"

What was with all the questions? If he really had no motive, why didn't he leave already?

"Yes... But most showers aren't exactly big enough for a full wingspan. And public shower rooms are not an option when you look like this." She gestured at herself brusquely. "The labs have a sanitizing room when I really need it."

Villain nodded slowly.

“I had to do the stitches to save you," he said. "But I didn’t want to touch you any more than I had to without permission. But if it's bothering you, and if you don't mind... You can tell me if it's too uncomfortable but..." He pointed to the dirty wing. "May I?”

Hero's first impulse was to blow up again. To shout a resounding no and ask what his real intentions were. Maybe he really was a spy, just biding his time before he incapacitated her. It was certainly up Sunfield's ally to force the labs' hand at retiring her. But then again, he could have done that when she was knocked out.

“Whatever.” Hero turned to the side so the grimy wing drooped more fully on the floor.

Villain hopped to his feet a little too giddily. "Don't move, I'll be right back." He skirted past the storage shelves and pushed out into the business side of the building, a sliver of the loud chatter and clinking glasses slipping inside before the door swung shut again.

Hero closed her eyes for a moment and imagined the bustle going on just on the other side of that wall. It was probably the closest she had ever gotten to a place like this, at least, without crashing it. How would they react if she were to step out? Would they leave? Would they try to finish her off?

Another bit of cacophony escaped through the swinging door.

"Ooookay!" Villain called. He set a large bowl of soapy water and clean washcloth on the ground and settled down beside it. As he outstretched his hands, he hesitated. "You're sure? You're not going to claw me to death or anything like that?"

"I only claw criminals who cause me problems," Hero said. "So you're safe. For now."

"Goody," Villain grinned. He carefully dragged the wing into his lap, squeezed the excess water from the washcloth, and gently got to work on the worst patch or street gunk.

Hero looked straight ahead.

Warm water trickled between her feathers, triggering a shudder that set each one on end. She fought the urge to close her eyes against the gentle rake of his fingers. She hadn’t known someone could touch her without pulling or prodding.

"Ok?"

"Mm," Hero grunted with a short nod. This wasn't just a quick swipe of the rag; he was sifting through each and every feather. A cleaning like this, by hand, could take hours. Hero never signed up for that. She didn't have that time. But for now--she fought another shiver--it was fine.

“I wasn’t making fun of you earlier,” Villain said quietly, dunking the rag into the bowl again. “I’ll shut up about it if you want me to, but I hate there being a misunderstanding. I really do think you’re beautiful. Like an angel.”

“More like a demon," Hero scoffed. Maybe the doctors had been right all those years ago. She was a disaster. Nothing like the pretty heroes in the limelight these days. She was only good for slaughter, and she hadn’t even done that right tonight. The agency would be mad when they found out her target got away, and her injured in the process.

“I don’t think so." Villain lifted a chunk of feathers with the back of his hand and wiped gingerly at the undersides. "Maybe everyone is just too narrow. And you need the space to fly."

Hero snorted. "Wooow, clever that one. Take you long to think it up?"

"As a matter of fact, it came right off the top of my head. I’m full of clever thoughts. With Supervillain gone, I’m going to use them for myself. Soon enough, I won’t be able to get off your radar even if I try.”

“And you’re excited about that?” Hero finally looked back him. He looked far too pleased with himself. “You know if I’m the one after you it usually means death, right?”

"Well…it would be nice to see you. Maybe you’ll change your mind. Or maybe I’ll escape.”

Hero crooked a disbelieving smile. “Not likely.” She abruptly withdrew her wing, pulling the numbed joint in so it folded properly against her back. As she stood and took a couple steps a new wave of dizziness rocked the floor but she shook it away. “Well, wing’s feeling better. I’m leaving."

“What?” Villain scrambled to his feet. “You shouldn't be flying on a sprain. Besides, there're all sorts of creeps ‘round these parts when it’s dark. You should stay here at least til sun up.”

"Creepier than you?"

“Ow, you don’t want to hurt my feelings, do you?”

“I’m pretty sure I can handle it.” Hero took a few more dizzying steps toward the door, but Villain jumped in front of her, arms spread.

“You have fresh stitches; moving around to much will be a bloody mess. That means no fighting. I forbid it.”

Hero rolled her eyes. “Well if a complete stranger says so, I guess I better listen.” She tried to dodge around Villain, but he echoed her steps with only a quarter of the sway.

“You’re not an idiot. You know I’m right. You shouldn’t fight in your condition, and if you go outside it will end in a fight.”

Hero hesitated, and Villain took the opportunity to press on.

“I might have said we appreciated what you did, but not everyone likes you like I do. So just a few more hours. When it’s light, it’ll be clear to go.”

Hero stared into his determined eyes. Really, what was his deal? She didn't even know him, so why did he care so much? Especially when he should see her as an enemy. But...he was right. She didn't really know where she was, and flying on this wing did not seem like the greatest idea. And she'd had enough scrapping for one night. Plus, the room would not stop tilting.

"Fine." She stormed back to the cot and rolled onto her side, cramming her wings against the wall behind her. If what Villain said was true, she didn't trust turning her back to the door. "I'll wait until sun up. And then what?"

"I'll escort you."

"Suit yourself." Hero squeezed her eyes shut, effectively ending the conversation. After a moment, she heard the rustle of Villain settle back down at the head of the bed.

She only meant to close her eyes for a moment. Just until Villain stopped looking at her. But before she knew it, she was sinking into the dark folds of sleep.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindonessy @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @kurai-hono-blog

[justtwotired]

Whispers of the night - Lloyd Garmadon x F!reader

Part 1 - previous - next

Tag list: @beachcombers-boyfriend @cipheress-to-k-pop @whore-of-many-hot-men @bodieohbo @anyth1ngfor0urmoony @luvizuku

Your POV:

We got of off Lloyds dragon and I felt myself grow more nervous by the second. I was about to meet Lloyds mother and his Sensei.

About a week after I found out he was the green ninja, he told me about his dads passing, I had never seen him so vulnerable.

He had almost cried and I had hugged him, making him actually cry. We had sat like that for a few minutes, me holding him as he cried, slowly telling me how it happened.

It was that moment that he opened up to me more, telling me about events in his life. He even mentioned about being possessed one time, I think that was the worst, but he doesn’t talk about it much.

Flashback:

We where in my backyard, my parents and little brother where in the city so we had the house mostly to ourselves, if you ignored the two bodyguards and our two other staffmembers.

His head was resting in my lap while I read a true crime book. He had his eyes closed and for November, it was a pretty sunny day, making his blonde hair shine gold in the sunlight.

In my book, the main character was about to meet her boyfriend’s parents, which got me thinking.

“Hey, Lloyd?” I asked, making him open his eyes and look up at me with a small hum. “When am I going to meet your parents?” I wondered. “I mean you’ve already met mine,” I chuckled

His small smile fell slightly and he avoided eye contact. “I think my mom would love to meet you soon,” he said making a smile grow on my face. “But, my dad he uh… he died a few years back… we never really shared it with the media,” he admitted and my heart fell.

He had never told me that, not as the green ninja, not as Lloyd, as no one…

“Oh,” I breathed, “I’m so sorry,” I muttered as I combed a hand trough his blonde hair. As if on cue the sun had vanished.

“It’s fine,” he spoke and sat up, still avoiding looking at me, but I looked at him and saw him fighting the tears in his eyes. “It was a long time ago,”

“Even if it was a long time ago, it shouldn’t mean that you can’t grieve anymore,” I said and laid my hand on his. “May I ask what happened?” I asked and he lightly nodded.

“There was this guy, Master Chen, he owned the noodle house before Skylor,” he started and a small frown appeared on my face.

“The one that hosted the tournament of elements?” I asked and for the first time, his eyes shot up towards mine.

“You were there?” He asked with a small frown. “I don’t remember you being there,” he recalled, slightly looking away in thought.

“I wasn’t there,” I said, “but I was invited, I just didn’t go, I liked living without thinking much of my power, only using it for a laugh with my friends or training with my father,” I explained which got a small smile out of him.

“That’s clears it up,” he said and looked down at his lap. “Well I’m glad you weren’t there,” he admitted. “It was horrible, Chen was a bad person trying to steal our elemental powers to turn him and his goons into Anacondrai, which eventually worked,” he said and I gave him a horrified look, picturing the scenarios in which Sensei Garmadon could’ve passed.

Lloyd looked up at me for a second to see this look but when he noticed I didn’t have any additional comments, he continued. “The only way to get rid of them, was to open a gate to the cursed realm and sent Chen and his goons trough with the help of some banished Anacondrai generals, but someone had to offer themselves up, someone who sent the Anacondrai there in the first place,” he said and let out a shaky sigh.

“Your father,” I finished for him making him nod, swallowing thickly as he played a bit with his fingers. “He was a good man,”

I looked at Lloyd and took his hands in mine again making him look at me with tears in his eyes which he tried to blink away.

“You know it’s okay to cry, right?” I asked and with that, the first tears rolled down his cheeks. I opened my arms to invite him for a hug and he immediately put his arms around me and we sat there for a while,

He cried while I whispered reassuring things to him.

I looked around the monastery, it was really beautiful. There where beautiful blossom trees and and flowers around. It looked peaceful and I could hear a water stream somewhere nearby.

My mouth opened slightly in awe at the beauty of the place, taking it in and smelling the fresh air around.

“Are you coming?” Lloyd asked, taking my hand. I nodded and let him guide me to the door and trough the monastery that was just as beautiful on the inside.

We then entered a room where someone was hunched over some papers and another was busy with what looked like a huge computer. On the screens I looked at what seemed like the point of view of a security camera and Cole looking around somewhere.

“Lloyd, you’re back,” I looked at a woman with ginger hair and a smile painted on her face, hugging Lloyd tightly.

He hugged her bag and then parted to face me. “Mom, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” he said gesturing to me and I was about to politely stick out my hand to shake hers, but she already pulled me into a hug.

“Y/n! Oh how great to meet you, look at you, so beautiful,” she put me at shoulders length, a huge smile on her red lips. “I am Lloyds mom, you can just call me Koko, or mom, whatever you want,” she said and hugged me again.

“Hi, thank you so much, it’s so nice to meet you too,” I said with a small laugh and Lloyd gave me the thumbs up and a wink, making me give him a look.

“Lloyd has told me so much about you, can’t seem to stop it, I’ve told him so many times to let me meet you, but he kept putting it off,” she waved a hand and my eyebrows went up as I looked at Lloyd.

“Has he?” I asked and he rolled his eyes while Koko led me to the table.

“She’s going to embarrass me more then the others already have!” He argued and I laughed. “Plus, I was afraid she’d scare you off,” he admitted.

“Scare me off? Lloyd, have you ever met Millie?” I asked and he chuckled. “Nothing scares me off,” I stated. “But do tell me all the embarrassing stories of Lloyds childhood, I am really interested,” I looked at Koko who already got stars in her eyes.

“Wu, stop being busy and come meet Lloyds girlfriend,” she ordered a man with a long white beard. I supposed this would be their sensei.

“Y/n hm?” He turned to me and stuck out his hand for me to shake, which I did. “My students have all told me a lot about you, it is nice to be able to meet you,” he said, with a kind smile.

“It is great to meet you to,” I said politely and let go of his hand.

“Would you like some tea?” He asked, and I contemplated for a moment and looked at Lloyd who nodded encouragingly.

“Yeah, I’d love some tea actually,” I said and the man smiled approvingly.

“Good,” he mumbled before beginning to walk away. “I will be right back,” he told us and left the room.

“Don’t mind him, but if you turn down his tea, he will see that as a red flag,” Lloyd said making his mother chuckle.

“I’ll remember that one,” I said with a grin.

It wasn’t my intention to stay as long as I did, I was about to go, really, but then the others came in and we had fun and then Cole came back and we where all teasing him for liking Luna… time flew by.

“I really hink I have to go now,” I eventually said looking at my phone for the time.

“Awe, really? We’re having so much fun, can’t you just sleep over?” Jay asked and I chuckled but shook my head.

“I don’t have my clothes or anything with me really, besides, I don’t know if my parents would be pleased. Especially my mom,” I said, a bit disappointed.

It was true, mom was still not really trustworthy of my surroundings, even though Allistor is locked up now and I’m safe, she’s still scared, which I understand, of course. Yet it restrains me from doing things like this…

“Oh, it’ll be fine, just borrow some of my stuff and tell your parents that you’re here,” Nya said and I frowned slightly.

I contemplated for a moment and looked at the others, “I don’t know what they would say when I tell them I’m at the monastery with the secret ninja force,” I said with a small laugh. “Even if greenie was my bodyguard,”

“Oh, but they know who I am, I don’t think they’d mind, and come on, they- or at least your father, knows sensei Wu, is it’s fine, really,” Lloyd said, making me think for a moment before smiling.

“Fine, I’ll ask if I can stay over,” I said and they cheered.

I quickly texted my mom as the others already started getting things ready for a movie we could watch.

You

Hey, mom

I know it’s late, but I’m currently at the monastery with Lloyd and the other ninja and they ask if I want to sleep over, can I?

Mother dearest

Hi hunny, it’s fine, you don’t have school after all, but please be back before dinner tomorrow.

You

Will do, thank you so much

Love you mom

Mother dearest

I love you to, honey.

I put down my phone to see all the others staring at me with hopeful eyes.

“She said yes,” I announced and they all cheered once again and Jay hugged my tightly in excitement.

We watched the movie, after that I baked some cookies with Zane while the others played video games and we all ate them with some tea before going to bed.

I slept in Lloyds room, which did make me a bit flustered, but I’d live with it. He leant me a big t-shirt and some sweats I can sleep in while Nya already gave me some clothes for the next morning.

I was combing my hair in Lloyds room while he was in the bathroom, I could hear him arguing with Cole and Jay about something making me chuckle.

After a while the arguing stopped and I let out a small sigh, god was I exhausted, it was four in the morning and I’d done a lot today.

Suddenly there where arms snaking around my waist and a head with blonde hair leant on my shoulder.

I had not heard Lloyd walking into the room, but he was a ninja, so I really shouldn’t be surprised.

Once again, his lips attached with my neck and he trailed kisses to my collarbone, making my breath hitch.

“Lloyd,” I murmured and he chuckled against my skin.

“In my memory you said we’d continue later,” he gave me a look and turned me around. “Isn’t this later?” He asked making me shake my head with a chuckle and pull him down by the collar of his shirt, kissing him till I felt my knees grow weak.

The next day I woke up with two arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I slowly cuddled closer to my sleeping boyfriend and was about to close my eyes again when his opened.

“Hmm, morning Princess,” he groaned. I smiled and leaned into his touch. “Morning, love,” I whispered and he kissed my forehead.

We laid there for a few moments in silence, enjoying the moment of quite.

Suddenly the door flew open and the both of us looked up to see a grinning Kai in the doorway. “Good morning love birds!” He greeted loudly. “It’s time to get up, Zane is making breakfast already!” He said and I groaned and let myself fall into the bed again.

“What? Did I interrupt or something? Where you a out to fuck?” Kai asked and crossed his arms. “You knowing you two are getting to that I think it’s time I explain-”

“Kai!” Lloyd interrupted him and Kai grinned at us while our faces where red as could be. “Get out,” Lloyd said and Kai was about to say something but left after receiving a stern glare from the both of us.

“Asshole,” I mumbled and Lloyd chuckled before kissing my forehead again and then getting out of bed.

“Nooo,” I whined and he chuckled when I grabbed his hand in attempt to pull it back. He leaned down, kissed me and left anyway.

[acourtofthought]

vassa and jurian are gonna be so exciting together

Can we just stop and take a second to appreciate the absolute comedic genius that SJM has set up for us in an Elucien book?

We have "It only goes to her head when you call her that" (for love interests) and "She shouldn't be any of yours, either, considering she's probably been fucked by half the Illyrian army by now," (while pretending to be the enemy) Jurian, who managed to fool both Rhys and the King of Hybern with his double agent scheming.

We have Queen "rolls her eyes at Jurian as if he's not worth her time, all but demanded the High Lady of the NC help her, and shrugged her shoulders when Nesta refused to respond" Vassa.

We have "I didn't realize Illyrians were in the habit of fucking their sisters" Eris who is willing to subject himself to torture in order to preserve the relationship with his allies and continue on his path to get rid of his abusive father.

We have "I am not a child to be fought over", "I hope they all burn in hell", "The new Amren is even crankier than the old one," she poured a finger of amber-colored liquor into a glass and knocked back the contents with a grimace" Elain Archeron.

We have "Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress," "a cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents," "Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold," "Unfortunately for you and your neck, tonight's just a party," "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?" Lucien Vanserra.

And that'll all be rounded out by a soon to be revealed father / father-in-law who wants to enter cities on golden chariots led by snow-white horses with manes of golden fire.

Has there ever been a lineup quite like that with such incredibly big personalities? 😂

SJM said writing banter is one of her favorite things and I can't imagine she wouldn't be in her element writing their story for us.

[knickynoo]

what do you think alternate 1985 Marty was like?

Ok, so, I LOVE thinking about 1985A Marty!! We see him for a bit in the "Biff to the Future" comics, but I've mentioned before that I feel like they sort of dropped the ball there. There was so much they could have done with Alt '85 Marty, and they honestly didn't do much. He was just...Marty. And while I like the idea that a lot of who Marty is remains the same no matter the timeline, I have a hard time believing such an awful upbringing wouldn't impact him in some way. Some thoughts!

• I do think there would be that element of "Marty is Marty," even with growing up in '85A. At his core, Marty is kind. He's protective of his loved ones, strives to do the right thing, and puts others first. I don't think that would change.

• However, I see '85A Marty maybe having to hide those characteristics under a bit of a hardened shell. This is out of necessity and a result of being exposed to a lot of horrible things from a young age. He was so little when George died, so likely all he remembers is a world where Biff is his step-father, his mother is miserable, and violence is a daily occurrence. That good heart is still there, but Marty figures out pretty quickly that he's got to keep it under wraps a bit if he's going to survive.

• It's interesting because while our Movie!Marty is a fairly anxious little guy, I don't see '85A Marty as really having any significantly higher anxiety levels. I mean, you would think he'd be a barely functioning anxious mess, but I actually think all the pressure and stress and fear would force him into a state of "I can't waste TIME worrying." He becomes a very take-charge person. Focused on whatever situation is currently taking priority while the anxiety takes a back seat.

• As Alt Biff says in part II, Marty is absolutely a "little hothead." He tries to be careful, and he's able to tread lightly when needed, but it's just not possible in certain situations. Mainly, these are situations involving his mother's safety and well-being. If she's being threatened or hurt, he just does what's needed to help, even if it means he's going to pay for it after.

• Though Lorraine does her very best to protect and care for Marty, there are times she simply can't. And when it gets to be too much and she's lost in the sadness and alcohol, Marty steps in to be there for her. In a way, he learns how to act as a parent of sorts from a young age, guiding and taking care of his mom when she needs it. With Dave and Linda's own issues (and the fact that they're rarely around), he's often all Lorraine has.

• The moment Marty was shipped off to his first boarding school, he started acting out and doing whatever he could to get himself kicked out. He knew it was Biff's way of getting rid of him—taking away Lorraine's main source of protection—and wasted no time in sabotaging the plan. In some ways, it was hard for Marty because he really had to do some bad stuff (and it tugged solidly at his conscience) but he had no choice. He had to get back to his mother. So, every time Biff sent him somewhere new, Marty immediately got to work making himself a Nightmare Student. He gets very good at causing trouble. I think he also forms alliances with other students who become aware of his situation and help him to get kicked out as well.

• So. I have this hc that just popped into my brain where Biff actually tries to like...mold Marty into taking after him when Marty is little? Because Marty is so young and impressionable when George dies and Biff enters the picture, I can see Biff being like, "Maybe I can get the kid on my side." And it's not even that he likes or cares about Marty, he just sees someone he can turn into an heir of his twisted empire. Even have it be a slap in the face to George's memory to have his youngest son turn into a mini Biff Tannen. But Marty is stubborn, loyal, and sees right through Biff, so he resists every act Biff tries to put on to impress him. In turn, this makes Biff hate Marty even more in the long run.

• In the comics, there's a secret resistance group that keeps trying to find ways to take Biff down. George and Doc were both part of it, and I like to imagine that Marty gets involved in some way as well. He's a source of valuable information since he lives with Biff, and I think Marty also does a whole lot of sneaking around to keep up to date on what Biff is up to. He doesn't tell Lorraine about his involvement, though, because he doesn't want to put her in danger if Biff grows suspicious, but Lorraine definitely knows. She just turns the other way and silently prays nothing bad will happen.

• Marty has a tough time in terms of how the citizens of Hill Valley see him. He's disliked by a lot of people automatically because he's Biff's stepson, and they're wary of him. They don't know if he can be trusted. Others simply assume he's a spoiled brat living a cushy life with a rich family and resent him for having it so good while the rest of the town crumbles. So, he has very few friends.

I'm sure I could go on, but I'll stop there. I'd like to write a fic someday that focuses on 1985A Marty because he really does fascinate me. Thanks for the ask!

[badaziraphaletakes]

Nina

Here's why I think Nina isn't a good metaphor for Aziraphale and his situation re: heaven. (There are some similar elements, but their overall arcs are by necessity going to be very different.)

NINA'S PARTNER LEFT HER. There is at least a chance that Lindsey has actually let her go.

That is a crucial distinction.

You see, it is INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS for victims to leave an ab*sive partner. That is when the ab*ser is by far most likely to try to murder them. (This is why so many victims of ab*se don't try to leave until an incident happens where they know their partner is literally minute away from killing them. It's not because they're "spellbound" by the ab*ser or happy with them or any of that crap that people assume. It's because they know their partner will do everything in their power to hunt them down and kill them if they leave. So they don't leave until they literally know death is inevitable if they don't. Side note, if you're going to leave an ab*sive relationship, even one that's only "mildly" ab*sive, please please please have a safety plan in place first if at all possible). Ab*sers do not let their victims just walk away.

The ab*ser being the one who leaves is in so many ways a more desirable outcome, for that reason. I hate to use this word, but Nina was "lucky" (and I'm speaking relative ONLY to Aziraphale here, to be very clear - she certainly isn't lucky relative to all the people who don't have to deal with ab*sive relationships) that Lindsey left her - because she doesn't have to worry about what Lindsey would do to her if she left them. (Side note, though: I wouldn't be at all surprised if she is not, in fact, rid of Lindsey for good, and we see them pop up again in S3. That would be an accurate depiction of how these relationships often work.)

Whereas heaven has not left Aziraphale and is never going to. They are never going to let him be safe with Crowley. AND AZIRAPHALE KNOWS THAT, Y'ALL.

Idk where I was going with this, but I think y'all get the idea.

[kakita-shisumo]

In which I sound off for much too long about PF2 (and why I like it better than D&D 5E)

So, let me begin with a disclaimer here. I don’t hate 5E and I deeply despise edition warring. I like 5E, I enjoy playing it, and more, I think it’s an incredibly well-designed game, given what its design mandates were. This probably goes without saying but I wanted it on the record. While I will be comparing PF2 to D&D 5E in what follows and I’ve pretty much already spoiled the ending by the post title (that is, PF2 is going to come out ahead in these comparisons most of the time), I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding about my position or intention. My opinions do not constitute an attack on anybody. For that matter, things I might list as weaknesses in 5E or strengths of PF2 might be the exact opposite for other people, depending on what they want from their RPG experience.

As I said before, 5E is an exceedingly well-designed game that does an exceptional job of meeting its design goals. It just so happens that those design goals aren’t quite to my taste.

# A Brief History of the d20 RPG Universe #

I’m going to indulge myself in a little history for a second; some of it might even be relevant later, but for the most part, I just want to cover a little ground about how we got here. By the time the late ‘90s rolled around TSR and its flagship product, Dungeons and Dragons, were in trouble. D&D was well over two decades old by that point and showing its age. New ideas about what RPGs could and even should be had taken over the industry; TSR had finally lost its spot as best-selling RPG publisher to comparative upstart White Wolf and their World of Darkness games; the company even declared bankruptcy in 1997. Times were grim.

That, however, was when another comparative newcomer, Wizards of the Coast, popped up and bought TSR outright. Flush with MtG and Pokemon cash, they were excited to try to revitalize the D&D brand and began development on a new edition of D&D: third edition, releasing in August 2000.

Third edition was an almost literal revolution in D&D’s design, throwing a lot of “sacred cows” out and streamlining everywhere: getting rid of THAC0 and standardizing three kinds of base attack bonus progressions instead; cutting down to three, much more intuitive kinds of saving throws and standardizing them into two kinds of progression; integrating skills and feats into the core rules; creating the concept of prestige classes and expanding the core class selection. And of course, just making it so rolls were standardized as well, using a d20 for basically everything and making it so higher numbers are basically always better.

At the same time, WotC also developed the concept of the Open Gaming License (OGL), based on Open Source coding philosophies. The idea was that the core rules elements of the game could be offered with a free, open license to allow third-parties develop more content for the game than WotC would have the resources to do on their own. That would encourage more sales of the base game and other materials WotC released as well, creating a virtuous cycle of development and growing the industry for everyone.

Well, long story short (too late!), it worked like fucking gangbusters. 3E was explosive. It sold beyond anyone’s expectations, and the OGL fostered a massive cottage industry of third-party developers throwing out adventures, rules material, and even entire new game lines on the backs of the d20 system. A couple years later, 3.5 edition released, updating and streamlining further, and it was even more of a success than 3rd ed was.

At this point, we need turn for a moment to a small magazine publishing company called Paizo Publishing, staffed almost exclusively by former WotC writers and developers who had formed their own company to publish Dungeon and Dragon, the two officially-licensed monthly magazines (remember those?) for D&D. Dungeon focused on rules content, deep dives into new sourcebooks, etc., while Dragon was basically a monthly adventure drop. Both sold well and Paizo was a reasonably profitable company. Everything seemed to be going swimmingly.

Except. In 1999, WotC themselves were bought by board game heavyweight Hasbro, who wanted all that sweet, sweet Magic: the Gathering and Pokemon money. D&D was a tiny part of WotC at the time and the brand was moribund, so Hasbro’s execs hadn’t really cared if the weirdos in the RPG division wanted to mess around with Open Source licensing. It wasn’t like D&D was actually making money anyway… until it was. A lot of money. And suddenly Hasbro saw “their” money walking out the door to other publishers. So in 2007, WotC announced D&D 4th Ed, and unlike 3rd, it would not be released under an open license. Instead, it would be released under a much more restrictive, much more isolationist Gaming System License, which, among other things, prevented any licensee from publishing under the OGL and the GSL at the same time. They also canceled the licenses for Dungeon and Dragon, leaving Paizo Publishing without anything to, well, publish.

At first, Paizo opted to just pivot to adventure publishing under the OGL. Dungeon Magazine had found great success with a series of adventures over several issues that took PCs from 1st all the way to 20th level, something they were calling “Adventure Paths,” so Paizo said, “Well, we can just start publishing those! We’re good at it, the market’s there, it will be great!” And then, roughly four months after Paizo debuted its “Pathfinder Adventure Paths” line, WotC announced 4th Ed and the switch to the GSL. Paizo suddenly had a problem.

4th Ed wasn’t as big a change from 3rd Ed as 3rd Ed had been from AD&D, but it was still a major change, and a lot of 3rd Ed fans were decidedly unimpressed. Paizo’s own developers weren’t too keen on it either. So they made a fateful decision: they were going to use the OGL to essentially rewrite and update D&D 3.5 into an RPG line they owned: the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game. It was unprecedented. It was a huge freaking gamble. And it paid off more than anybody ever expected. Within two years Paizo was the second-largest RPG publisher in the industry, only behind WotC itself, and for one quarter late in 4E’s life, even managed to outsell D&D, however briefly. Ten years of gangbuster sales and rules releases followed, including 6 different monster books and something over 30 base classes when it was all said and done. It was good stuff and I played it loyally the whole time.

Eventually, though, time moves on and things have to change. The first thing that changed was 4E was replaced by D&D 5E in 2014, which was deliberately designed to walk back many of the changes in 4E that were so poorly received, keep a few of the better ones that weren’t, and in general make the game much more accessible to new players. It was a phenomenal success, buoyed by a resurgence of D&D in pop culture generally (Stranger Things and Critical Role both having large parts to play), and its dominance in the RPG arena hasn’t been meaningfully challenged since. It also returned to the use of the OGL, and a second boom of third-party publishers appeared and thrived for most of a decade.

The second thing was that PF1 was, itself, showing its age. RPGs have a pretty typical life cycle of editions and Pathfinder was reaching the end of one. It wasn’t much of a surprise, then, when, in 2018, Paizo announced Pathfinder 2nd Ed, which released in 2019 and will serve as the focus of the remainder of this post (yes, it’s taken me 1300 words to actually start doing the thing the post is supposed to be about, sue me).

There’s a coda to all of this in the form of the OGL debacle but I don’t intend to rehash any of it here - it was just like six months ago, come on - beyond what it specifically means for the future of PF2. That will come back up at the very end.

# Pathfinder 2E Basics #

So what, exactly, makes PF2 different from what has come before? There are, in my opinion, four fundamental answers to that question.

First: Unified math and proficiency progression. This piece is likely the part most familiar to 5E players, because 5E proficiency and PF2 proficiency both serve the same purpose, which is to tighten up the math of the game and make it so broken accumulations of bonuses aren’t really a thing. In contrast to 5E’s very limited proficiency, though, which just runs from +2 to +6 over the entire 20 levels of the game, Pathfinder’s scales from +0 to +28. Proficiency isn’t a binary yes/no, the way it is in 5E. PF2’s proficiency comes in five varieties: Untrained, Trained, Expert, Master, and Legendary. Your proficiency bonus is either +0 (Untrained) or your level + 2(Trained), +4 (Expert), +6 (Master) or +8 (Legendary). So if you were level five and Expert at something, your proficiency bonus would be level (5) plus Expert bonus (4) = +9.

Proficiency applies to everything in PF2, really - even more than 5E, if you can believe it, because it also goes into your Armor Class calculation. You can be Untrained, Trained, Expert, Master, or Legendary in various types of armor (or unarmored defense, especially relevant for many casters and monks), and your AC is calculated by your proficiency bonus + your Dex modifier + the armor’s own AC bonus, so AC scales just as attack rolls do. Once you get a handle on PF2 proficiency, you’ve grasped 95% of how any game statistic is calculated, including attacks, saves, skill checks, and AC.

Second: Three-Action Economy. Previous editions of D&D, including 5E, have used a “tiered” action system in combat, like 5E’s division between actions, moves, and bonus actions. PF2 has largely done away with that. At the start of your turn, you get three actions and a reaction, period (barring haste or slow or similar temporary effects). It takes one action to do one basic thing. “Attack” is an action. “Move your speed” is an action. “Ready a weapon” is an action. Searching for a hidden enemy is an action. Taking a guarded step is an action. Etc. The point being, you can do any of those as often as you have the actions for them. You can move three times, attack three times, move twice and attack once, whatever. Yes, this does mean you can attack three times in one turn at 1st level if you really want to (though there are reasons why you might not want to).

Some special abilities and most spells take more than one action to accomplish, so it’s not completely one-to-one, but it’s extremely easy to grasp and quite flexible at the same time. It’s probably my favorite of the innovations PF2 brought to the table.

Third: Deep Character Customization. So here’s where I am going to legitimately complain just a bit about 5E. I struggle with how little mechanical control I, as a player, have over how my character advances in 5E.

Consider an example. It’s common in a lot of 5E games to begin play at 3rd level, since you have a subclass by then, as well as a decent amount of hit points and access to 2nd level spells if you’re a caster. Let’s say you’re playing a fighter in a campaign that begins at 3rd level and is expected to run to 11th. That’s 8+ levels of play, a decent-length campaign by just about anyone’s standards. During that entire stretch of play, which would be a year or more depending on how often your group meets, your fighter will make exactly two (2) meaningful mechanical choices as part of their level-up process: the two points at 4th and 8th levels where you can boost a couple stats or get a feat. That’s it. Everything else is on rails, decided for you the moment you picked your subclass.

Contrast that with PF2. In that same level range, you would get to select: 4 class feats, 4 skill feats, two ancestry feats, two general feats, and four skill increases. At every level, a PF2 player gets to choose at least two things, in addition to whatever automatic bonuses they get from their class. These allow me to tailor my build quite tightly to whatever my idea for my character is and give me cool new things to play with every time I level up. This is true across character classes, casters and martials alike.

PF2 also handles multiclassing and the space that used to be occupied by prestige classes with its “pile o’ feats” approach. You can spend class feats from class A to get some features of class B, but it’s impossible for a multiclass build to just “steal” everything that makes a single class cool. A wizard/fighter will never be as good a fighter as a regular fighter is, and a fighter/wizard will never be the wizard’s match with magic.

Fourth: Four Degrees of Success. 5E applies its nat 20, nat 1, critical hits, etc. rules in a very haphazard fashion. PF2 standardizes this as well, in a way that makes your actual skill with whatever you’re doing matter for how well you do it. Any check in PF2 can produce one of four results: a critical success, a regular success, a regular failure, or a critical failure. In order to get a critical success on a roll, you have to exceed your target DC by 10 or more; in order to get a critical failure, you have to roll 10 or more less than the DC. Where do nat 20s and nat 1s come in? They respectively increase or decrease the level of success you rolled by one step. In practice, it works out a lot like you’re used to with a 5E game, but, for instance, if you have a +30 modifier and are rolling against a DC 18, rolling a nat 1 nets you a total of 31, exceeding the DC by more than 10 and earning you a critical success, which is then reduced to just a normal success by the fact of it being a nat 1. Conversely, rolling against a DC 40 with a +9 modifier can never succeed, because even a nat 20 only earns a 29, more than 10 below the DC and normally a crit failure, only increased to a regular failure by the nat 20.

Now, not every roll will make use of critical successes and critical failures. Attack rolls, for instance, don’t make any inherent distinction between failure and critical failure. (Though there are special abilities that do - try not to critically fail a melee attack against a swashbuckler. The results may be painful.) Skill rolls, however, often do, as do many spells with saving throws. Most spells that allow saves are only completely resisted if the target rolls a critical success. Even on a regular success, there is usually some effect, even on non-damaging rolls. That means that casters very rarely waste their turn on spells that get resisted and accomplish nothing at all. It also doubles the effect of any mechanical bonuses or penalties to a roll, because now there are two spots on a die per +1 or -1 that affect the outcome; a +1 might not only convert a failure to a success but might also convert a success to a crit success, or a crit fail to a regular fail.

# What About Everything Else? #

There is a lot more to it, of course. As a GM I find PF2 incredibly easy to run, even at the highest levels of game play, as compared to other d20 systems. The challenge level calculations work, meaning you can have a solo boss without having to resort to special boss monster rules to provide good challenges. I find the shift from “races” to “ancestries” much less problematic. PF2 has rules for how to handle non-combat time in the dungeon in ways that standardize common rules problems like “Well, you didn’t say you were looking for traps!” Everything using one proficiency calculation lets the game do weird things like having skill checks that target saves, or saves that target skill-based DCs. Inter-class balance, with some very specific exceptions, is beautifully tailored. Perception, always the uber-skill, isn’t a skill at all anymore: everyone is at least Trained in it, and every class reaches at least Expert in it by early double-digit levels. Opportunity Attacks (PF2 still uses the 3rd Ed “Attack of Opportunity” - but will soon be switching over to "Reactive Strike") isn’t an inherent ability of every character and monster, encouraging mobility during combats, and skill actions in combat can lower ACs, saves, attacks, and more, so there are more things to do for more kinds of characters. And so on.

Experiencing all of that is easiest just by playing the game, of course, but suffice it to say PF2 has a lot of QoL improvements for players and GMs alike in addition to the bigger, core-level mechanical differences.

# The OGL Thing #

Last thing, then. In the wake of the OGL shit in January, Paizo announced that it would no longer be releasing Pathfinder material under the OGL, opting instead to work with an intellectual property law firm to develop the Open RPG Creative (ORC) License that would do what the OGL could no longer be trusted to do: remain perpetually free and untouchable for anyone who wanted to publish under it. The ORC isn’t limited specifically to Paizo or to Pathfinder 2E or even to d20 games; any company can release any ruleset under it and allow third-party companies to develop and publish content for it.

Shifting away from the OGL, though, required making some changes to scrub out legacy material. A lot of the basic work was done when they shifted to 2E, but there are still a lot of concepts, terminologies, and potentially infringing ideas seeded throughout the system. These had to go.

Since this meant having to rewrite a lot of their core rules anyway, Paizo opted to not fight destiny and announced “Pathfinder 2nd Edition Remastered” in April. This is a kind of “2.25” edition, with a lot of small changes around the edges and a couple of larger ones to incorporate what they’ve learned since the game first launched four years ago. A couple classes are getting major updates, a ton of spells are either getting renamed or swapped out for non-OGL equivalents, and a couple big things: no more alignment and no more schools of magic.

The first book of the Remaster, Player Core 1, comes out in November, along with the GM Core. Next spring will see Monster Core and next summer will give us Player Core 2. That will complete the Remaster books; everything else is, according to Paizo, going to be compatible enough it won’t need but a few minor tweaks that can be handled via errata. So if you’re thinking about getting into PF2, I’d give serious thought to waiting until November at least, and maybe next summer if you want the whole Remastered package.

And that’s it. That’s my essay on PF2 and what I think makes it cool. The floor is open for questions and I am both very grateful and deeply apologetic to anyone who made it this far.

[wrathofrats]

Mist said she heard dews screams

Who orderd the transition

What was the room like when they did it was it like a operation room or just a bed

Did dew move around a lot during the transition

Sorry about how many questions I'm extremely curious

Omg pls don’t be sorry I desperately want everyone to ask in depth questions about my writing it honestly makes my absolute day like YASSS SOMEONE CARES

Imma go question by question and try and describe what’s up, hopefully in the future I can make a longer fic detailing dews transition as I did deltas

Who ordered the transition?

Terzo in both cases. After hearing the fates of water, lake and river (succumbing to their element to the point of having to be banished), he didn’t want the same fate for delta or dew. Delta was an accident, as he already decided what he wanted before anyone could stop him. Omega was ordered by Terzo to help him, fix what he could but sadly there wasn’t much to be done. This is what largely made mist scared when Terzo ordered dew’s element transition, she witnessed deltas decay.

As for dew Terzo ordered both omega and aether to transition his element, as omega had experience and aether was a trusted ghoul that he knew could do it with hopefully minimal problems. It was out of concern, he didn’t want dew to suffer from his element as he knows others did so he chose to get ahead of it, with consent from him of course.

What was the room like when they did it was it like a operation room or just a bed

It took place in the infirmary, so imagine a hospital room. Not like an operation room as I believe the transition is almost entirely magic based, no physical tools needed. But I imagine the transition happening in a hospital room by omega and aether at his sides.

Did dew move around a lot during the transition

Warning for this question as I’ll be describing dew in pain

He tried, he was held down by quintessence to ensure nothing went wrong. I think it was a painful process, having to force the fire magic in while pulling the water out. I think it’s a process of one of them forcing it into his veins as the other takes the water out. I really don’t think it was easy on him. Especially aether having to remove his gills, pulling tissue over them to get rid of them.

It doesn’t last long though, a day at most. The rest of the time was recovery and to make sure he was ok, and to get ahead of any issues if they were to pop up. I imagine he stayed in the infirmary for about two weeks.

I hope this helps explain things!

[time2commitbastardlyactions]

My thoughts on HEARTSTEEL (even though no one asked):

I should start off by saying that my expectations going into this were very low. I know that Riot's music team never disappoints, but the leaked splash art was a bit of a let down in my opinion so I tried not to get my hopes up and I was hoping some things would be changed before the skins' release.

Regardless, I watched the music video as soon as it premiered... and I haven't been able to stop listening to it since. The song is SO GOOD!! It took me a couple of listens before I really got into it, but to say it's grown on me is an understatement. Sure, it's not better than POP/STARS (that's a given), but I can honestly say I like it better than GIANTS.

The song might be a banger, but my grievances come from pretty much everything else.

First of all, I think the casting could have been better. Baekhyun as Ezreal was great, but everyone else just felt... Off?? I got whiplash when Kayn started rapping because his voice just caught me so off-guard (though I suppose it was Rhaast rapping, so that makes more sense). Sett and K'Sante were a bit better, but I still think it was iffy casting overall. There's just such a stark contrast between their singing/rapping voices and their normal talking voices that doesn't sound quite right to me.

Second, the music video was pretty decent. As I stated before, my expectations weren't very high, so considering how low the bar was I wasn't disappointed. There were a lot of good moments in it that I really enjoyed, but overall I felt that it didn't flow as well as it could have. I thought it was very flashy, fast-paced, and chaotic. This is all subjective, but I think the video could have been better. For what it was, though, it was decent.

Lastly, I wanted to talk about the skin designs. I said before that I was disappointed when the splash art was leaked, and the same holds true now. What I liked about K/DA and True Damage is that the skins provided a new, modern spin on the characters while still holding true to who they are. The HEARTSTEEL designs were disappointing for me because it kind of feels like they tried to change too much. Some of them work, but some of them don't. Ezreal and Yone both look amazing and I'm considering picking up Yone just so I can play the skin when it comes out. I'm still on the fence about K'Sante, Sett, and Aphelios. Kayn just looks mid, which is upsetting for me because I literally started maining him just for the skin. Sett looks like a car mechanic. These skins could have been so good, and I think what they should have done instead is gone for a more edgy/punky vibe all around. There are a lot of bright colours in some of these designs, and I think that's what's throwing me off. Kayn is the literal edgelord of Runeterra, and you CANNOT convince me that he would actually dress like that. The pink hair is fine, but the brightness of the pink should be balanced out with darker clothing (PLEASE just get rid of the yellow pants, Riot, I'm begging you. The design would immediately go from a 6/10 to 9/10 if you just made the pants black instead of piss yellow). The same goes for Aphelios, who is often characterized by dark, emo aesthetics. His design doesn't look bad, but again, it could have been significantly improved by incorporating some darker elements. This is kind of a gripe that I've had with HEARTSTEEL in general. Riot went with the same pop vibes instead of innovating and coming up with something new. The band in general should have been more punk-rock oriented than what we got. I saw someone online saying that Kayn should have been a screamo rapper, and I can't agree more. Overall I don't dislike the designs, but they could have been done better.

So that's the end of my spiel. I love the song, but there are a lot of things about the band that left me wishing. I just hope that Kayn gets a black chroma or something, and I hope that when they get a comeback after 5 years or so (if Riot doesn't forget about them before then), Riot listens to fan feedback and we get something even better. I think the group has a lot of potential and I've really been enjoying the Discord chats on Twitter. If you have opinions about the group, feel free to add on to this, as these are all just my opinions.

[mdhwrites]

Is TOH Worse By Having Character Arcs?

In a story theoretically about inclusivity, finding your space and accepting who you are... Is it right that so many people change as drastically as they do?

This is going to be a bit of an odd topic because pop culture nowadays reveres the concept of the character arc almost above any other aspect of writing. If your characters do not exhibit change, how can they be deep or interesting? Where is the story in a character who mostly stays static? And that's not a bad instinct because a character overcoming some major flaw or corrupted ideal they hold onto is very compelling.

However, character arcs are like any part of writing: They are a TOOL for the writer to use. Just like with any tool, it won't fit every job. Not every story needs large, grand arcs. So was The Owl House a story where this tool should have been applied?

I argue no, despite the fact that its character arcs are such a lauded part of it. This isn't entirely because there is no space for character arcs in its themes but that its goals are... touchy when it comes to the idea of change. That requires us to first ask what those goals are in the first place.

Well, the show isn't always very good at defining these but if I'm being generous, we'll go with: The idea that one shouldn't be ashamed for who they are.

The need for a space where you can feel safe and like yourself.

Self expression and self determination being the greatest virtues in both people and society.

As a base this isn't bad. The middle one is dangerous because it can very quickly become isolationist but they do all point in the same direction of a story that wants to make sure that 'the other' doesn't feel wrong simply for not conforming to what society expects of them. Whether this is stereotypes pushed upon them, anxieties over things like sexuality, generational gaps, etc. like that, there's PLENTY to explore. Even if you want to go less severe, there's just a lot of quirks, especially in modern society, that can lead to someone feeling fake or wrong or weird, including feeling like you lean too much on your own stereotype just because you genuinely like makeup or the like.

The problem for TOH becomes that only the more extreme version actually supports real, long term character arcs. Someone who is deeply entrenched in a toxic element of society figuring out ways to be themselves despite the prejudice before them. In the show, the only person who actually faces anything like this is Eda since the society of the Isles actually DOES push down on what she believes is her identity as a wild witch. Unfortunately, Eda's arc isn't about grappling with her position as a wild witch and how that separates her from the world and family but more about softening up, getting rid of the activities she used to love/kept her alive and becoming maternal rather than embracing the wild side that made her a wild witch in the first place.

In other words, her arc is about flipping her character around rather than about embracing who she is. Which, you know... Goes against the goals of the show.

Pretty much every arc is like this. Amity goes from being extremely driven about magic and caring about her future in this world, as well as having anxieties about her family to the point where she takes drastic action to get ahead... To caring only about her girlfriend and marginally about maybe keeping some okay relations with her family. Instead of any of her drive, intelligence, cunning, etc. like that being refined by smoothing out the rougher edges and realizing she shouldn't be cruel in order to succeed in her ambitions, her ambitions are blamed on someone else and otherwise her character entirely inverts for the sake of... Luz. Which, you know... Luz needing a maternal figure for her found family is much of why, in hindsight, it feels like Eda became motherly. For Luz.

Hunter becomes a soft boy because when he gets his staff back and reminds her that he is a loyal member of the EC, she disapproves. Hell, 90% of what Hunter ever does in the show is for someone else's approval or survival, with him even ending up following after an ancestor almost 1:1, making him probably the least self-accepting character in the entire cast. Lilith falls under similar issues. She was driven and even had appeared to have softened with age, wanting to usher in new witches into their best forms as part of her job, and then... She stops. She gives up on all of her ambitions besides a little bit of a grudge against someone else and is turned into a joke for the most part. Even her trauma is mocked which doesn't seem to have literally ever been something she would have accepted, young or old nor is it something a show about acceptance should include.

And you might notice that most of the problems for these characters I'm describing aren't for themselves. Solving them isn't about self actualization. At best, they are about getting out of shitty situations but you can do that without changing the core of the character. You can have Luz save someone from death but then have who they are reject Luz anyways because of her position in society. People are complex like that. After all, if you wish for acceptance for what you care about, you naturally have to extend that kindness to others and their interests (so long as those interests aren't hateful/harmful, etc. like that. Do not tolerate Nazis.)

Amity for example is at worst a bully. She isn't hateful, she's just mean as a function of how she sees EVERYONE as an enemy. A competitor who she needs to guard against. You can develop her, because not all development forms a character arc, into still being driven, still desiring to be better, but now she understands that she doesn't need to be an island. That she can drop her guard sometimes and when she needs to crush something, it's an actual enemy. Instead, her desires, beliefs, friends, family, etc. are all put to the pyre. They are not allowed to coexist with the 'correct' version of her, not without them having to also change in a similar manner to her. To a state that the show is willing to deem acceptable in a wider sense.

Why is that a thing in a show about self acceptance and realization? How is that self-expression or self-determination? How is that understanding?

And that's why I think in the end, The Owl House's character arcs hurt it more than anything else.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

Someone DM me insisting that Belos is a Hate Sink unlike Lord Voldemort because "their fantasy crimes are too unrealistic to be hated" unlike Belos who "is a human planning to murder all the witches, who are highly similar to humans." And I'm like, did you even read Harry Potter (I mean, there are legit reasons not to)?

"This fantasy wizard who is planning witch genocide is too unrealistic unlike that other fantasy wizard who is also planning witch genocide!!"

No seriously, it's funny because Belos and Voldemort have a lot of similarities and to say that one is more realistic than the other is absurd: Both are former humans who perverted and destroyed their bodies through the misuse of magic, both see their group as superior to another group that is just minding its own business, both seek to destroy said group because of that preconceived sense of superiority. Both even brand their followers with magical tattoos to signify that difference! The causes of their motivation are different but they are functionally the same.

Back when Harry Potter was the biggest fandom in the world, a lot of people made comparisons to Voldemort's Death Eaters to the Nazis; both are obsessed with blood purity and seek to rid the world of those they consider impure and to have their supreme leader rule everyone.

Like, it's really obvious.

The fantasy genre as a whole has an escapist element and a common plot that pops up a lot is the "diverse group of heroes set out to destroy the Big Evil trying to take over the world as Supreme Dictator For Life." It's an easy Good vs. Bad plot and if you add in how the Big Bad oppresses people based on physical traits, beliefs, etc. then you can easily read a political angle as well.

And honestly, really good and memorable villains will have that real world element to make the threat more believable and engaging for the audience: Voldemort is basically Wizard Hitler, Darth Vader is an authoritarian, etc. So the idea that a villain is so hated because their "fantasy crimes are too realistic" is laughable.

(Also, as a side note, it's really funny that that person said that TOH witches are really similar to humans while HP witches and wizards are literally just humans without any pointy ears to physically distinguish them from Muggles.)

I honestly think the reason why Belos is so hated is because of Hunter--full stop. If he wasn't abusive toward Hunter and people didn't project their own feelings onto Hunter and see how relatable his situation is, then I doubt Belos would get this much vitriolic hate. (We're also in this very strange time where some younger fans seem to think that liking a villain means you support their actions.)

I think that's the element of realism that triggers people the most; compare Voldemort to Umbridge, people can like Voldemort and not get flamed for it but EVERYONE in the HP fandom hates Dolores Umbridge. While Voldemort is more of a typically fantasy villain, Umbridge feels like a person you could meet in real life. She's a bureaucrat who takes over the school and enforces her oppressive and nonsensical laws with an iron fist. Power wise, she doesn't stand out from the other wizards but she has institutional power, which makes her terrifying as a villain. It's easier to defeat the one Big Bad and save the day but it's damn near impossible to destroy the System that makes little Umbridges every day.

Again, I think that what triggers people about Belos is how he treats Hunter not the whole witch genocide thing or "colonization" because the show spends more time showing us how much Hunter suffers than the whole Boiling Isles.

[quibbs126]

May I request a fan kid? If so, I'd like to request a Twizzly Gummy x Parfait.

This is a bit of a long time coming, but here you are, this is Twizzle Blast Cookie

I’ll be honest, for ages I have had no clue what to do for this one, but today I watched the new Helluva Boss episode and have been listening to the song from it, and it basically just gave me a brain blast of inspiration, as I thought this was the perfect fit for the song. I like Twizzle Blast, but I do admit that I was just running with a concept, and maybe didn’t think too much on it

Anyways, so I don’t actually have a basis for her name. I just made up the name Twizzle Blast, because it was kind of like Twizzly Gummy. It’s probably not her real name and just her stage name, but I have no clue what she actually is. As stated before, part of the reason it took so long was because I had no clue how to mix Twizzlers and parfaits. So uh, yeah, she’s just…something

To be honest, she takes a lot of influence from Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel characters, though I’d say she’s closest to Queen Bee (or I suppose more accurately, “Cotton Candy”), though not so much in design. She’s supposed to be a pop star, and that was basically the basis for her design. I mostly looked at Parfait, Helluva Boos characters, and some Vocaloid characters for her design

After making those little side hair bits, I was considering giving her a headset instead, but I didn’t go for that. Maybe I’ll put that in on a later date

I don’t think I intended her hair to look the way it does, with it supposed to originally be more white like Parfait’s with those Twizzlers mixed in. I don’t think it looks necessarily bad though, but I do think she looks a bit meaner than she’s supposed to be. Also, that’s her natural hair color

Edit: actually, I’m considering that it’s not exactly her natural hair color. Like, originally her pink was a lighter shade and maybe no stripes. And probably not as sharp. But still, her hair’s relatively similar to her natural one

Anyways, so let’s get into Twizzle herself

So like I said, she’s a pop star, like Parfait. Though again, she’s more like the characters from Helluva Boss in terms of the sort of setting she sings in, with a lot of neon lights and probably poles she spins around. She’s not as raunchy as them though, she’s still relatively family friendly. I imagine she performs in the future setting Twizzly’s from

But one notable trait is that her concerts can tend to be…dangerous. The balls on her belt are bombs that she throws out, and if something disturbs her concert, like monsters breaking in (or possibly the police), she will still keep singing while throwing her explosives to get rid of them. She’s very fond of “music fights”, by which I mean she fights while still singing, sometimes while competing with other bands (she’ll let them retaliate). If she were in the game, she’d definitely be Bomber class

Also she probably has some lightning elements like Twizzly as well, though hers is white. I think I meant to put in the sketches, but I didn’t end up doing that. She does have it though

But despite her extreme nature of performing, she’s generally a nice person, similar to Queen Bee

Uh yeah, I think that’s all I have on her. Hope you enjoy her!