#idk i love mosey

[engagemythrusters]

MOSEY FOR CHANCELLOR 10BBY

[felidang]

Binomi

[adhdandcomics]

you are 2010s transmasc art reigen. to me

i wont lie to you ive been trying to parse this ask out for a minute. do you mean i look like 2010s reigen art? my art looks like reigen art? i embody the spirit of transmasc reigen?? the world may never know. i have a sinking feeling you mean all of these things, though.

[mosaic-marquise]

How did this puppet show find its way into my psyche in the wee hours of the morrning? >:|

[nikkento-writes]

Bad Romance

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.7k

cw: Wild West au, no curses au, violence, implied sex work, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut - PIV sex, blow job, cunnilingus, dirty talk, pet names, creampie

Summary: You’re the Vixen Viper, an outlaw on the run with an outstanding bounty. You find a temporary safe-haven at the Star Saloon, protecting the women who work there while they protect you from the authorities. One night, a bounty hunter by the name of Toji Fushiguro shows up, threatening to cause some trouble. Somehow, you find the perfect way to subdue him.

Author's Note: This is a repost from my old blog! I originally wrote this as a request for a milestone event I was doing and it's still one of my fave fics that I've written, so I wanted to share it on here. I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 to this, we'll see! I just love the idea of Toji in the Wild West, idk, I think it fits him very well. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Midnight at the Star Saloon is always lively with rambunctious activity. It’s the perfect time for stragglers moseying through town or the miscreant locals to stop by for a break, meaning booze, gambling, or sex. Usually all three in one night. You’ve been a regular here for almost three months now, befriending the women and men who work hard to keep the patrons satisfied. Whether it’s serving alcohol until they fall out of their seats, enabling poker addictions, or riding their cocks in one of the private rooms upstairs at a special rate, they do it all to make an honest living. Though on occasion, customers will cross the line.

And that’s where you come in.

It started two months ago, after you had frequented the saloon enough times to be considered a regular. It was around three in the morning when one of the barmaids approached you, asking you to follow her upstairs. She led you into the private room all the way down the hall, and inside was another worker, sitting at the foot of the bed, cheek swollen and a black eye all on the left side of her face. That’s all you needed to see to set you off. The perp had already left, but you knew who he was as soon as she described him. And, of course, like all assholes do, thinking they got away with it, he came back. When he did, it was you this time who took him upstairs to that same bedroom, dressed in one of the barmaid’s outfits. You, who flirted with him and stripped him naked on the bed, promising to give him exactly what he deserved. And finally, it was you who robbed him and held a sharp blade to his pathetic penis, threatening to slice it right off if he ever showed his ugly fucking face in this town again. You haven’t seen him since.

At that time, your friends at the Star Saloon already knew you were someone who could handle things. Maybe it was the way you dressed at first, often showing up in cowboy attire, ready to book it if the situation called for it. Or maybe it was because they recognized you from the wanted posters plastered in the next town over, your silly nickname the Vixen Viper in big bold print below an unflattering photo of you from the last time you landed in jail, right before you escaped. They never mentioned it; never reported you to the authorities. Instead, they welcomed you in with open arms. There’s a bounty on your head for the crimes you committed against sleazy men like that, but you hold no guilt for your actions. To you, and to all the women in the saloons you’ve frequented, it’s justice. They need someone like you to protect people like them. Because lord knows that no one else in this godforsaken world will.

You’ve lasted three months in this town without the authorities catching on to you yet. You look quite different from your poster when you’re done up in makeup and a frilly dress, dagger concealed in the garter wrapped around your thigh. And with the help of your friends, you’ve managed to hide in plain sight, posing as one of the barmaids while you patrol the late-night crowd for any possible threats. Violence against these women has significantly lessened since you’ve been around. The rumor amongst the patrons is that men who misbehave get their money taken and their dicks chopped off, which is pretty spot-on to the actual truth. So fortunately, for both the workers and the customers, there isn’t any trouble. 

Tonight is a little different.

You lean against the bar doing your usual inspection, checking for people who are causing a ruckus or getting rough with any of the ladies. You’re dressed similarly to them, though you never get requested to entertain in one of the private rooms above, considering you don’t go out of your way to flirt with any of the men. You lack the illustrious charm the others do; you’re only here for when things get ugly. It surprises you when a mysterious stranger on the other side of the room points to you directly, wiggling his finger to beckon you over. He smirks, the prominent scar on his lips curving with it. You grab your drink and walk over to him, curious to see what this is about, sensing that it can’t be anything good.

When you reach his table, you give him your most cordial smile. “Good evening, sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

He grins, waving to the seat across from him. “I was hoping you can join me for a little chat.” His tone is even, though there’s a hint of something sinister in there. Maybe it’s your imagination or better yet, your intuition. You’ll soon find out.

You drag the chair out, plopping into it, laying your hands flat on your lap, palm pressed to the knife hidden beneath your skirt. He scans you up and down before asking, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him, you answer, giving him a fake one, of course. He nods, accepting it. “Toji Fushiguro. Pleasure to meet you.” He holds his hand out, which you take reluctantly, shaking it. His grip is firm, callouses rough against your own. “I saw you and knew I had to meet you.”

Your raise a brow at him. “Oh? What about me caught your eye?"

“Thought I recognized you from somewhere.” His gaze lingers on yours, expression unwavering.

Your heart stops momentarily, a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. Not here, not now. You swallow thickly, feigning ignorance. “Really? From where?”

He slides you a rolled-up paper, nodding his head for you to open it. “Take a look.”

Trembling now, you obey, unraveling it slowly until you see the words WANTED: ALIVE and your face staring back at you. There’s no need to go any further. You fold it up immediately, heart racing, glancing at your surroundings hoping no one else is listening in on your conversation. As calmly as you can, you lean forward towards him, muttering, “So what, are you going to arrest me? Hog-tie me in front of all these people?”

He inches even closer, noses nearly touching now, his breath tickling you. “Now, I’m a gentleman. I like to know a woman first before I tie her up.”

You scoff. “So what, am I supposed to come quietly then?”

He glances at your mouth, then back to your eyes. “I’m willing to negotiate if you have something to offer.”

You clear your throat, intrigued by his response. “Let’s discuss this somewhere more private,” you say, grabbing his wrist and dragging him up the stairs with you.

“Lead the way, Vixen.”

You lead him to the very end of the hallway, the furthest room away from the bar downstairs. There’s a fire escape just outside the window, your best chance to evade arrest. First, you’ll have to subdue him.

Inside, you lock the door shut, turning to face him. “Are you a police officer?”

He shakes his head. “Guess again,” he answers, opening his coat to display the gun and knife hanging on his belt.

“Bounty hunter,” you state, glaring at him.

“Yup. And you, my dear, have a very hefty bounty on your pretty little head.” He steps towards you, caging you between his arms, your back flat against the door. Although you remain untouched, his presence is suffocating.

“What do want?” you ask him, breathing in deeply through your nose.

“All the loot you robbed from those scumbags. Enough to exceed the bounty I’d get if I brought you back with me.”

You smirk. “Is that it?”

“And a deal,” he adds. “A partnership.”

You stare at him, confused. “What?”

He laughs, amused by your reaction. “I’ll admit, I’m a fan of your work. Drifting through town-to-town, robbing sleazy assholes. And you haven’t been caught until now. It’s impressive.”

You’re caught off guard by the praise, relaxing just the slightest bit. “So, what do you propose?”

He lets his arms down, placing his hands in his pockets while he explains himself. “There are several bounties for men exactly like the ones you hate. If you promise to help me get them, I won’t take you in tonight. I’ll even give you some of the money. If you’re good.”

“And why can’t you do this yourself?”

“It’s easier to get a guy when his guard’s down. If there’s a pretty little thing like you seducing him, catching him will be easy as pie.”

You stare at him, contemplating his proposition. It’s an easy decision for you to make. It’s either this, or jail. “Fine. You have a deal.”

He offers his hand to you. “Put it there, partner.” His tone is soft, almost sincere. You can’t help thinking that if this were any other scenario, you’d find him attractive. Hell, even in this one, you’re drawn to him. You take his hand, shaking it. He tugs you in closer, voice low and seductive. “I think we should celebrate this new friendship. What do you say?”

You smile at him, what feels like the first genuine one of the night. Maybe this isn’t as bad as you initially thought. When you close the distance, his mouth is on yours quickly, lips smacking, wet and sloppy. He slides out of his jacket, letting it thud loudly on the hardwood with his weapons weighing it down. The shirt he wears is tight on his body, clinging to him, emphasizing his muscular physique. You can’t remember the last time you were intimate with a man without the intention to backstab him. In fact, it’s been a while since you were intimate at all. With him guiding you, however, you match his movements naturally, sliding your hands up his torso, pawing at his chest as his hands squeeze your hips, pulling you towards the bed.

He moans, slipping his wide tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss and exerting his dominance. “Can’t wait to see what the Vixen Viper can really do,” he huffs, hoisting the hem of your dress, bunching it in his fist. His fingers trail the inside of your thighs, stopping at the garter, feeling the handle of the knife strapped to you. He clicks his tongue, mouth hovering your ear, hooking his finger to snap the elastic against your skin. “You really are dangerous.”

You let out a whimper, your pussy throbbing with arousal. He grabs the blade by the handle, whipping it out from its holster, tossing it to the other side of the room away from you. You chuckle, lifting your arms up so he can strip you properly. “Are you scared of me?”

He removes your corset swiftly, squeezing your bare breasts in his hands, thumbs flicking at your nipples. “I don’t want to get stabbed in case you change your mind.”

You shove him onto the bed, where he lies flat on his back, watching you straddle his lap, naked. “If I do that, then I wouldn’t get to fuck you.”

He laughs loudly, biting his lip. “Oh? You’re the one who’s gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah, I reckon,” you reply, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper. He continues to watch you intently, groaning when you shimmy his pants off to release his cock. It flops against his abdomen, even bigger than you imagined, all veiny and girthy. You salivate at the sight of it, opening your mouth for a taste.

“Fuck,” he curses, head relaxing into mattress, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as you sink down on him, swallowing him up until the tip hits the back of your throat. You bob up and down on his shaft, gripping the base of his cock, swirling your tongue around the head. “You suck cock like a fucking whore. Did your friends out there teach you that?”

You grasp his balls in your hand, squeezing them tight, causing him to shudder. Shaking your head, you say, “I learned this from experience.”

He smirks. “Yeah? Come here. Put this pussy on my face. Bet I can teach you something you haven’t learned yet.”

You release him, crawling up his body until your wet cunt is pressed to his lips. His tongue laps at your arousal, swirling around your aching clit. You grip the top of the headboard, grinding on him. “Oh fuck!”

His hands surround your ass, squeezing at your soft cheeks, fingers digging into your flesh. He hums into your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation. He nods beneath you, encouraging you. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take it. Take it like a good slut.”

He takes you into his mouth, slurping at your clit until your gushing all over his face, your orgasm shiny on his lips and chin. His eyes are wild with excitement, peering up at you between your legs. Kissing the plush of your thighs, he says, “Well, go on then, Vixen. Fuck me.”

Soon, you’re sinking down onto his fat cock, pussy already soaking wet with slick and spit. He fills you up to the brim, taking a few seconds to adjust to size comfortable. When you’re ready, you start to bounce on his lap, his cock thrusting in and out of you smoothly. He hits your sweet spot over and over, stimulating you into another messy orgasm after just a few solid strokes. Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, drool leaking down your chin, throat dry from the incessant moaning.

“Look at you. So fucked out for me,” he growls, planting his feet on the bed, taking control. He grabs onto your hips firmly, pounding up into you, watching your entire body convulse with each delicious thrust. “You talk a big game, but you like being manhandled like this. You’re just a slutty little hole waiting to be ruined. Waiting for the right man to use you.” He presses his thumb to your clit, massaging it with deep strokes. “Seems like you finally met the perfect partner.”

“Fuck, Toji!” you cry out, unraveling once again.

He increases his pace, the bed creaking noisily below you. “That’s it, baby. Come with me. Gonna breed this perfect pussy. Gonna fill you up so fucking good.” He pulls you down towards him, wrapping you in his arms, kissing you fiercely as he pumps his load inside you.

You both lay still for a moment, catching your breaths, Toji peppering delicate smooches along your neck. You’re surprised at how gentle he’s being, considering his brutish behavior from earlier. When enough silence passes, you look at him, grinning. “What a way to celebrate, am I right? Partner?”

He laces his fingers with yours. “The beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

After you clean yourselves up as best as possible, you snuggle together under the covers, him spooning you from behind. “’Night, Toji Fushiguro.”

He nuzzles his nose to the nape of your neck, whispering, “What’s your real name?”

You smile, grazing your lips on his knuckles, actually giving it to him.

~~~

Toji Fushiguro, the most sought-after bounty hunter in all the west, wakes up the morning feeling fantastic.

He glances to his side, hoping to see his lovely new partner still peacefully asleep beside him. To his surprise, no one is there. He inspects the room, searching for clues on where she ran off to and notices nothing.

And that’s when it hits him. There’s nothing in the room.

All his clothes are gone, his weapons, the wallet full of cash buried in his pockets, even the very blanket they fell asleep under. He’s as naked as the day he was born, confused and beguiled until he finally realizes it. He’s been robbed. And it was the Vixen Viper who robbed him.

The only thing he finds is her wanted poster, folded up on the bedside table, a small note scribbled to the back of it:

Toji - Thanks for the fun night, but I don’t do partners. Maybe the next time you catch me, I’ll reconsider.  

He laughs, unable to contain his smile as he reads her real name signed at the end of it.

[velnoni]

Idk if ur doing it rn or anything, but as a southern person, I beg of you to pretty please write the fic where the southern reader charms stan! That sounds so cute (no pressure tho, I just really like the idea)

The way I was looking up southern dialects and looking at Fiddleford fics for reference was hilarious. I never wrote a strong dialect before, so I hope I did okay!

Southern Reader x Stan

It's been a minute since the three out you spent some quality time amongst each other that didn't involve something straight out of a nightmare. You swear the Pines family always had a tendency to attract something bizarre, and that's only mildly putting it. But with Soos managing the Shack and Ford, trying his hand at being social much his distaste, the three of you decided to hang out at a small gathering at edge of Gravity Falls, a small get together for the grown folks if you will.

You opted for something light and classy, with some gold jewelery adorning your neck. As you checked your fit to make sure everything was intact, you heard the stairs squeaking as someone came down. You peer over to see Stan fidgeting about with his tie, lips turnt down as his fingers got caught up in the fabric. He was wearing an emerald green button-down shirt with black slacks and a gold buckle belt. His hair was slicked back with a few strands hanging out. He cussed under his breath, muttering about how useless ties are.

But he looked good. Real good.

"Stanley, why ya fightin' yer tie like a snake and eagle caught up inna brawl?" Stan face visibly scrunched up at you speaking to him, grumbling at your metaphor. You laugh at him and take a few strides before shooing his hands away and patting down the fabric. Stan starts to protest a tad, but you hush him. "We'll be 'ere till the sun n' moon touch an' kiss each other g'night if I don't do it for ya. Now hold still." As you're focused on fixing Stan's tie and looping it around properly, you don't notice how his cheeks flush or how he clenches his fist as he takes in your concentrated look. How his eyes linger just a second too long on your face and your neck where the gold necklace resided. He was annoyed at how he was acting like never touched anyone before.

With a final loop and tug, the navy tie falls neatly onto Stan's broad chest. You pat him lightly, your fingers lingering as you eye him up and down teasingly.

"I must say, Stan-boy ya lookin' mighty fine 'ere all gussied up outta dat mystery suit ya love to wear." You watch Stan choke on his own saliva and look away from you. "Damn brat..." he hissed lightly. You pay him no mind, understanding he's flustered & not used to genuine compliments, and pat his shoulder. "Just complimentin' is all. Can't expect ta' mosey all round the falls prettier than a glob of butter meltin' ona stack of pancakes an' spect me ta be all hush hush bout it!" You cackle and turn your attention up to Ford as he comes down the stairs, waving hello and hugging him, calling him prettier than a peach.

Ford as well, with tinted cheeks thanks you before turning to his brother. "Stanley, are you ready to go— Why is your face so red?" You feigning innocent, tack onto Ford's question.

"I concur. Stanford, reckon figurin n tellin' me why yer twin been actin' like a bump on a log? Face more redder than a rooster's wattle," you smirked as Stan glared at you. "It's nothing. Now, let's get this show on the road already!" How adorable.

*please like and reblog, I'd appreciate it!

[fairy-writes]

Hellooo, can I request Hcs with Jouno Saigiku whose Partner Has a similar ability to Atsushi, just not a tiger but a Cat? And they absolutely love it to be in cat form and just walk around [[:

Thank youuu and I wish you a good day/night^^

HERE KITTY, KITTY!

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Saigiku Jouno x Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader

Notes: I’m trying out a new format of HCs! Let me know if you like it or not!

__________________________________________________________________________

SO

Jouno

I’m gonna be honest, he probably doesn’t care much about your ability at first. Like you can turn into a cat, no big deal; it’s not that impressive.

But if you are a part of the Hunting Dogs, he’s… civil with you. 

As civil as someone who is as much of a rat as Jouno can be. (Does this sentence even make sense? Idk, I'm tired lol)

You are likely part of the Hunting Dogs (or maybe you aren’t), but regardless, you specialize in espionage and information gathering. 

Like no one bats an eye at a cat lounging around (usually at least), so it gives you the chance to eavesdrop and gain important information on your targets. 

Fukuchi finds your ability to be very useful, so it’s understandable that Jouno begins to sense your presence around more often than not. 

“What are you doing?” Jouno asks and, for a moment, hears nothing but the sound of a cat purring. He knows it’s you. The Hunting Dogs don’t keep cats around just for shits and giggles. Then, there’s the jingle of a bell and the cracking of bones as you morph and change back into your human form. 

The bell had been Teruko’s idea. Something about making it so Jouno doesn’t step on you on accident, given his blindness. Didn’t she know that he wouldn’t step on you accidentally anyway? His senses were much too enhanced for that. On purpose, though? That was another story. 

Jouno hears the rustling of clothing as you put your uniform back on. Your clothes didn’t change with you. So whenever you changed back into a human, you made sure to have some clothes lying around so you weren’t walking around in the nude. 

“I was sunbathing. I already submitted my reports, so I had nothing better to do. What are you doing here anyway?” You reply, and he can hear your heartbeat get closer as you mosey on over to his side. You wrap your arms around his side and kiss his cheek. 

He’d never admit it, but it makes his heart stutter whenever you do that. 

But instead, he shrugs you off and tugs you down the hall to where everyone is waiting. 

“There’s a meeting. I was sent to come find you.” He says, and you sigh grumpily, muttering under your breath about how “couldn’t it have been an email?”

The meeting didn’t go as planned. 

You end up back in cat form, alternating between being curled up on Jouno’s lap or stretched across Tetchou’s shoulders or sitting still as Teruko scratches underneath your chin. All the while, your rhythmic purr rumbles through the room. Jouno listens to your happy heartbeat as he runs a gloved hand over your back when you return to his side. 

Eventually, Fukuchi sighs and sets down his papers. 

“It’s clear we aren’t going to get anything done today.” He says and dismisses the lot of you. Jouno makes sure to pick up your clothes and heads out, your paws padding behind him as you follow him to your shared sleeping quarters. 

Maybe the meeting could have been an email.

[semperamans]

idk if you’ve ever seen austin’s show masters of the air but omg i need gale “buck” cleven as my pretty 1940s army pilot fiancé :((( he’s so handsome and quiet and thoughtful i love him

i LOVED masters of the air oh my GOODNESS :'( i have a lot of thoughts :( this turned poly because - well, everything i write tends to drift that way.

buck fell in love the moment he saw you which was pretty darn special because he doesn't believe in superstitions, y'know? doesn't rub rabbits' feet, never avoided a black cat, doesn't wish on stars n'he sure as heck doesn't believe in love at first sight - or well, he didn't until you came along. then he starts to think that maybe magic does exist because you cannot be an ordinary girl. no, you have a voice that soothes his woes n'eyes that bring him home and "what's your name? that's pretty." and now he will never forget it :( he goes to sleep believin' that he didn't catch lightning in a bottle, he was lucky enough to capture the whole storm.

then you meet bucky who falls in love with you for an entirely different reason. bucky loves you because, well, apart from himself, no one has an effect on the boy who appears so cool constantly. but you, oh you, you make buck smile. you pull the laughter from wherever it hides and volley it up to bucky and he takes it in stride. you spend many a'nights gigglin' like school children but it makes buck happy. happier than he's ever been n'it's thanks to you two acting like fools, poorly singin' karaoke and ruffling his hair and pressing kisses on his cheeks and he realizes that he wants this life forever when the three of you mosey into his hometown. the boys are on leave and buck is dyin' to show ya the cabin that he helped build when he was a boy. he lives there now n'this nice woman named mrs. bodine upkeeps it while he's gone. it overlooks a pond (where you later learn to fish) and the wildflowers that grow high and mighty have petals in colors you've never seen before. the nights are cold, but sandwiched between the boys you feel just fine. they can name every constellation in the sky but you can kiss every constellation on their faces.

it's a little life - but it's a good one n'buck knows it can all change. knows the balance of the world is constantly teetering and it may all go to shit - hell everything in his life always has - but you and bucky? you're real (somehow) and stable and his. what more could he ever need?

[hyperfixated-fan]

Here is some of those wonderfully nostalgic girly-girl shows in vague order in which I watched/discovered them that no one asked for but I’m giving to you anyways.

1. First up, we’ve got the Horseland

Back in the day, I was a major horse girl (a part of me still is), but this show was so awesome and adorable. It’s just a bunch of gals riding their horses and hanging out at the barn. And their horses and other animals talk amongst themselves. It is all an animal lover like me could want. It’s just so cute and gives sweet life lessons. And occasionally, I found it interesting that they do touch upon some serious topics such as eating disorders and loss. The episode “Mosey” always makes me cry. All the episodes are on YouTube.

Overall, I have to say my favorite character is Alma Rodriguez.

2. LEGO Friends

The first generation of LEGO Friends is nostalgic, but I also seriously love the LEGO Friends: Girls on a Mission. It’s just a bunch of teenage girls getting up to shenanigans and being besties (Oddly, though they are high school age, we barely see them in school XD). I particularly enjoy Girls on a Mission (the episodes are on YouTube) because the episodes were so well put together and it fleshes out each girl a bit more uniquely. It’s a genuinely fun show though I generally am partial to LEGO shows. I am personally not a fan of latest generation of LEGO Friends. I’ve watched a few episodes and it’s just blegh. It might be the nostalgia talking but I just can’t get into it.

My fave character has always been Emma (she’s so adorable) and my fave ship is Emma x Ethan in the Girls on a Mission iteration.

3. Barbie Movies

Not sure if all the movies are pictured above, but there’s a good portion of them. I admit, I haven’t seen all of the Barbie movies (especially the good old classics mainly due to animation that did not age well so sorry) and did not really become a fan until later than most little girls. However, I still find the movies to be very enjoyable and cute. I think a lot of my affinity comes from many familiar Canadian voice actors being in most of the movies and I find it fun trying to pick out familiar voices.

A few of my personal favorite movies are “Princess Charm School” (it’s the first Barbie movie I ever watched with one of my best friends), “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” (so many voices and characters to listen to and try and remember), and “Mariposa” (I am rather partial to the voice of Chiara Zanni and loved her playing Barbie).

4. Ever After High

It is so sad that Ever After High ended after Epic Winter. I really wish we got to see more. I loved the imaginative twist on fairytale characters and the whole “facing your destiny” storyline. The princesses, knights, dragons, and wonderland were all great components as a lover of fantasy. Disney Descendants ain’t got nothing on Ever After. It was a very creative show and it was interesting to see all the characters that would pop up.

A few of my favorite characters are Rosabella Beauty, Ginger Breadhouse, and Lizzie Hearts. Call me basic but I really do like the ship Darabella (obviously the execution of it could’ve been better but I still like it.)

5. Miraculous Ladybug

Simply put, this show is a mess. Miraculous Ladybug barely made the list only because I have fond memories of it. I’m not caught up on any recent events and admittedly quit watching it after season 3 or 4 (I don’t exactly remember). The show had potential and many amazing fanworks, but after a while, the episodes just get repetitive. I still like the earlier seasons before things got too messy. As a lover of side characters, I also wish they fleshed out the side characters a bit more instead of keeping on creating more and more side characters. I still occasionally pop in to see what is going on and apparently Nathalie is dead?! Idk what’s going on and I love looking at spoilers with no context because it makes the show all the more funny.

My fave character list includes Alya Césaire, Nathalie Sancoeur, and Juleka Couffaine and I’m partial to the ship DJWifi.

6. Monster High

Since I was a fan of Ever After High, it was only inevitable that I would eventually become a fan of Monster High. It took a while but I eventually did fall in love with the show. And I fell hard. All the characters are so unique and while I absolutely love all the generation 1 content, I do not completely hate the g3 series. I loved the message of standing out yet belonging at Monster High, freaky flaws and all. The animation is very dated yet endearingly nostalgic at the same time. I love all the different twists on various monster creatures.

My favorite characters list gets pretty extensive, as I love g1 and g3 Abbey Bominable (I always love an ice queen), along with g1/g3 Cleo De Nile (bc she’s your typical mean girl/diva but truly cares for her friends), Robecca Steam (her steampunk aesthetic and little accent are adorable), Deuce Gorgon (a kind yet popular jockish character is rare), Jinafire Long (Chinese dragon is always a win), and Rochelle Goyle (she’s just neat).

Fave ships = Cleuce (CleoxDeuce) and AbbeyxHeath. I just love them okay!

7. Lolirock

I believe I discovered this show coming off of Storm Hawks and Steven Universe so the crystal motif and everything was already an intriguing concept for me (plus familiar Canadian voice actors drew me in). I just love the trio of girls trying to “secretly” protect earth with sparkles and spells while putting up the front of being a girl band (the songs are very catchy by the way if you can get past an ungodly amount of auto tune). The episodes gave me vibes similar to Miraculous Ladybug but somewhat better with less convoluted characters. Overall, it’s a very bright energetic show and I wish they would’ve delved into the backstories of the other princesses a bit more instead of focusing on Iris all the time. Here’s to hoping they eventually do come out with season 3. All the current episodes are on YouTube.

My favorite characters are the sisters Izira and Talia. They have so much power and the show needs to actually do them justice.

8. Mysticons

This one is definitely lesser known than most on this list. I found it shortly after LoliRock since it has similar features and characters. It’s a very simple show with simple characters but I am fond of it still (and I’m pretty sure it made me cry at one point. I don’t remember when but I remember something about it made me emotional). The fantasy magic of the world was definitely a big win for me. I think the creators did a decent job at world building. It’s your typical prophesied heroes must save the world from certain destruction but I found the show overall enjoyable and cute with a nice dose of found family thrown in.

My top favorite characters are Zarya Moonwolf and Emerald Goldenbraid.

9. DC Super Hero Girls

I started out as a G1 fan when it was still coming out and became a fan of the reboot as well. It was interesting to all these wonderful kickbutt superheroes placed in a high school -esque setting. The original series was very average with their shorts but it was such fun to see what characters would pop up to help (I even will tolerate and enjoy the LEGO specials). The reboot had better design and animation. I am sad it didn’t get a chance to run longer. My only qualm was that some characters had such a drastic change from their backstory and original character development that it moved from being whimsical and imaginative to simply keeping the name and having an entirely different character. *cough* Jessica *cough* They don’t get that she was such a powerful Green Lantern because she was bold but because most of the time she was scared out of mind due to her past trauma but still acted and pushed through the fear to save people.

Rant aside, my fave character is Jessica Cruz despite the reboot overhauling her character and erasing her backstory.

10. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Not necessarily my favorite glittery girly series I’ve watched but definitely an enjoyable series. True to my usual form, I unfortunately did not end up caring for most of the main plot and characters. However, the idea of this show was fun nonetheless and it had its nice moments, so I’m glad it got a decent number of seasons. The magic, weaponry, and elemental powers drew me to this show. I wish they delved a bit deeper into the true effects and trauma that fighting a war would have on all of the characters as they are leaders of their respective kingdoms.

My favorite characters include Entrapta (little nerdy characters are almost always a win for me), Mermista (Vella Lovell was perfect for voicing her and her character design is nice), Netossa (another awesome blue character; if anyone’s seen Six: The Musical, does she vaguely remind you of Catherine Parr?)

Bonus: Rainbow High

An interesting premise though it ultimately falls flat for me because I am not a fashion-oriented person in the slightest. However, I still like the show and all the drama that comes with it. I just overall find it hilarious to watch the squabbles that happen because everyone is just so high strung. (Why do all the guy characters literally look the exact same with that same stupid little hairstyle?) XD

Fave characters are Ainsley Slater and Jade Hunter.

Bonus: God’s School

Greek mythology! Need I say more? This is such an imaginative show. It is even more amazing considering one guy does all the animation. The webisodes that are out are great and I definitely recommend watching them on YouTube. Zeus looks like Disney Hercules and I find that hilarious. All the character designs for the gods are so awesome and I love the details that help indicate who they are. Ignore the fact that over half of them are related in some form or another and everything is fine.

Fave definitely has to be Athena! (…bad*** in the arena. Unmatched witty and queen of the best strategies we’ve seen.)

Bonus: Tinkerbell

These are just cute adventures. I wish the series could’ve continued so we could’ve gotten movies highlighting each of the fairies.

My fave is Silvermist.

Bonus: Steven Universe

I personally enjoyed this show and know it had a large fan base so I don’t get why so many people are going back and hating on it so fervently. It’s a flawed show like any but it still has it fine points and I have a soft spot for it. I heavily debated on whether this qualified for a magical girl show but I think it does. It’s nice seeing Steven grow alongside the gems and it’s a good show to put on in the background.

My favorites have to be Garnet and Sapphire.

Honorable mentions that I never fully watched but seem nice:

My Little Pony - I’m disappointed in myself for never getting into this show because it has all the right points for me to like it, including great Canadian voice actors and magic and ponies. I have watched some episodes and enjoyed them but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sit through and binge the entire show.

LEGO Elves - watched some but I never got truly immersed.

Totally Spies! - never really gave it a go but it seems okay.

Winx Club - I tried to like it but the characters just didn’t hit for me.

W.I.T.C.H. - watched the first few episodes but nothing made me want to continue.

[13eyond13]

Hey Bloz! How r u? I cannot even begin to express how fun it’s been to see ur Beatles posts on my dash. the minute I saw the Real Love demo I was like ok… she’s fallen down the rabbit hole XD I was fixated on them last year for a good few months. It was a lot of fun reading about them, watching their movies, and reading fan analyses online. There’s so much out there! And Beatles rpf is a whole world unto itself lol at first I was skeptical of it but then… I was intrigued haha

Do u have any fave songs or albums? :)

Omg hello Jess!! I miss you and it's so nice to hear from you 🫂

Hahaha YES I'm pretty deep into The Beatles lore rabbit hole already, it's been my main fixation for entertainment for the past month or so. You're right, there's just so much to dig into. Caught me totally by surprise, I feel like I'm so late to the game to just be having a Beatles phase now... I never felt extremely interested in learning about them before, but a randomly recommended YouTube video (x) about how it's reductive to blame the band's breakup solely on Yoko Ono drew me into this whole fascination a few weeks back.

😆 And hah, you must have sent this ask to me right before I deleted that "Real Love" demo reblog, because I thought I'd better delete it after I looked in the notes of the post and saw the OP wasn't taking kindly to anybody questioning if John was actually giggling instead of sobbing there (which is what I think he was doing, personally... but it still sounded like he was writing something about Paul? 🤷‍♀️ idk, doesn't need to be crying for it to still be a bit of an eyebrow raiser, imo)

I haven't actually really looked into any rpf yet, just digesting the "canon" material and whatnot (listening chronologically to their discography and not completely finished with that yet, up to halfway through the White album rn). Been watching their movies and behind the scenes stuff and documentaries (the Get Back one by Peter Jackson was fascinating even for a relatively new fan to watch, imo), reading a bigass biography about them (Tune In by Mark Lewisohn, it's like this great slowburn real-time mosey through the band's childhoods and earliest days together), and watching the occasional YouTube video deep dives (this one series in particular is p beautifully made and impressively researched and really got me in the feels regarding the shippy theories about J&P: [x])

As for my faves of their music, I haven't finished listening to 100% of their albums yet, BUT right now I'm actually very partial to some of their earliest records. I feel like some of their more normie stuff from the early 60s is actually the most fantastic fun to listen to, and Please Please Me and A Hard Day's Night might be the two albums with the most bangers that I never want to skip so far. Their more experimental and psychedelic and surreal later stuff is also interesting and arguably more unique and groundbreaking or creative or whatever, but I'm not as familiar with them outside of the main extremely famous tracks on them yet, and I'll need to finish listening and let them grow on me a bit before I can probably say for sure. However I think so far my faves from their later stuff would probs be Magical Mystery Tour, Abbey Road, and possibly the White Album (once I actually finish listening to it).

John is definitely my favourite Beatle, which was actually a complete surprise to me, I thought he'd be my least fave. And there are so many good bops that it's hard to narrow it down, but some of my personal faves so far are I Saw Her Standing There, I Should Have Known Better, I Want to Hold Your Hand, It Won't be Long, A Hard Day's Night, Do You Want to Know a Secret, Oh! Darling, I Want You (She's So Heavy) and If I Fell... hmm, I think maybe I'm just kinda a sucker for their simple and enthusiastic and joyful love songs the most, usually?

Thank you for sending me this sweet ask! I'd love to hear what some of your faves are too 🧡

[whatsnewalycat]

Psychomanteum / Chapter 12

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 12: Ghost in the Machine

Chapter Summary: You and Dieter go on a date while grappling with the past, present, and future.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 8.7k+

Content / Warnings: alternating pov, insecurities, mirror, angst, fluff, acting career things idk, awkward/nervous speech patterns, cocaine use, past infidelity, suspicion, dissociation, argument, abuse mention

Notes: Chapter title from "Ghost in the Machine" by SZA featuring Phoebe Bridgers. Howdy! If you want the taglist, or AO3 link, head on down to the masterlist. If you want a link to the spotify playlist for this chapter, let me know and I'll send it to ya.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Every window in the house sits ajar, welcoming a warm cross-breeze that tickles your skin. It carries an earthy scent from further up the hill, giving faint whiffs of sage and dirt. 

Dieter moseys around the house in his boxers, voyaging between his kitchen sink and potted plants, watering can in hand. He mumbles sweet little affirmations to his green dependents, checking in with each in a hushed voice, saying shit like, “Now, how are we doing here? Thirsty?” or “Looking great today,” or “Wow, someone needs a haircut.” 

From your place nestled into the couch, you alternate between watching him and studying the white wisps of steam that swirl off the surface of your coffee cup. 

This morning, while peaceful, has you feeling off-kilter. Your mind keeps wandering to the interview with DIRT. To your mom. To Dieter. 

Overnight, the dust began to settle in your mind, providing more clarity. Details started to surface shortly after you woke. Things you heard yesterday, but didn’t understand or deem important in the moment. 

Like David’s statement: “Dieter has had a lot of big changes in his personal life this past year as well, with his divorce to Anika, and the scandals surrounding it.”

Like your mother saying: “He had a problem with drugs, you know, big problem, had other women, too,“ and, “I know he has a cocaine habit, and that he cheated on his wife, does that sound like anyone else?”

Like Dieter saying: “No, I definitely deserved that.”

In each still, calm moment, they replay. Every time you look at Dieter and your heart aches with love and adoration, your memory blindsides you with this information. 

Is your mom right? Did he cheat on Anika? 

Or is she just trying to drive a wedge between you?

Wouldn’t he have told you when he had the chance?

You know you could do a web search to look into it, do your own research into the matter. Hell, you could even just fucking ask him. But the prospect makes you itch. 

Because what if she’s wrong and he thinks you don’t trust him? Or, worse, what if she’s right? 

Fuck, what if she’s right? 

Your blood starts to buzz hot and rapid through your veins. You look around for an escape hatch and see a bookshelf, then set your coffee cup down to approach it. 

Among knickknacks and a few small plants housed on the solid oak shelves, you find titles you expect to see, like 1984 by George Orwell, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann, and at least a dozen art reference books. You also find a few things you weren’t expecting, like Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, half a dozen Julia Quinn novels, and, most importantly, a first edition of Betty Crocker’s Picture Cook Book. 

You pull the cookbook out and examine it, running your fingertips along the frayed corners of the faded red hardcover, then flip it open, asking, “Why do you have this?”

Dieter looks up from an unruly Monstera, “Have what?”

“This cookbook,” you answer, padding across the living room’s black and white striped rug to show him. 

He frowns as you hold it up, shaking his head, “Must’ve been Annie’s. She left some stuff behind when she moved out.” 

“My grandma had this one,” you murmur, glancing up at him, “Is—is it ok if I look through it?”

He scoffs and shrugs, “Not like she’s coming to get it,” then returns his attention to the Monstera. 

You settle into the couch, thumbing through the yellowed pages, reading recipes, tips, and instructions compiled for housewives of the 1950’s. Dieter finishes grooming his plants and plops down at your side, curling an arm around your shoulders, “Betty giving you any inspiration?”

“Fun fact: Betty Crocker isn’t an actual person,” you smirk, turn the page to the section on custard pies, and inform him, “In the 1920’s, a flour company noticed they got a lot of homemakers requesting baking advice, so they adopted the moniker Betty Crocker as a pen name for the people who answered the questions.”

“Huh,” he blinks, “Interesting.” 

“Listen to this,” you flip to a dog-eared page towards the back of the book and start reading from it, “If you’re tired from overwork, house chores you’re bound to shirk, read these pointers tried and true, and discover what to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Tips for housewives who are fucking miserable,” you tell him, then read another excerpt, “Get outdoors every day. Take a walk, do some gardening, take the children for an outing, or pay your neighbor a short visit,” and another, “Harbor pleasant thoughts while working. It will make every task lighter and pleasanter. Notice humorous and interesting incidents to relate at dinnertime, etc.”

“Jesus,” he mutters.

You want to tell him that the page was bookmarked. Its connection to the spine, well-creased. Referenced often. The comment lingers at the back of your throat. 

When you backtrack your place in the book, trying to resume your study on custard pies, a white index card slides from between two pages.

“Oh,” you pluck it out and furrow your brow at the ingredients, measurements, instructions printed in a precise script, “It’s a recipe for banitsa. You ever had this?” 

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s like a flaky cheese pastry… phyllo, feta, yogurt,” you murmur, then glance up at him, “What do we have going on today?”

“Reservations at 7, and Darlene’s gonna stop by later, but other than that,” he grins and shakes his head, “Nada.”

So, the two of you smoke a joint on the patio while Lincoln picks up the called-for ingredients Dieter doesn’t have on hand. After Lincoln drops them off, you sanitize the sun-drenched quartz of Dieter’s kitchen countertop, all sparkling rainbows in the light. Dieter spreads a paint-splattered drop cloth across the no-man’s land between the dining room and kitchen, sets up an easel, equips it with a canvas, then rolls a little yellow file cabinet out next to it. 

He puts on a mix of music described as roller-rink 1978. As the funky tunes play over the sound system wired throughout his house, you attach a bread hook to his matte black stand mixer and sift bread flour into its 7-qt bowl. 

Then you go to work. 

You concentrate on the task at hand in each given moment, taking it step-by-step. Measuring, mixing, and kneading. Trying not to think too long about the romance novels lining the bookshelf, or the recipe’s delicate handwriting, or the dog-eared page, or Dieter’s baited breath after he recounted why he and Anika split, or your mother saying, “I know he has a cocaine habit, and that he cheated on his wife, does that sound like anyone else?” Or David Alterman asking, “Do you worry that those patterns are bound to repeat themselves?”

Instead of these things, you try your hardest to occupy your hazy, pot-laced brain by separating the dough into equal pieces while humming along to ABBA and Elton John and Electric Light Orchestra. 

When the recipe calls for the dough to rest for an hour, you clean your workspace, throw together the banitsa filling, and wash the dishes. 

Then the timer tells you: seventeen minutes left. 

You turn your attention to Dieter. His bare feet move fluid from side-to-side, paintbrush flitting between the palette and canvas as he lip-syncs along to “Hollywood Swinging” by Kool & The Gang. A grin stretches across your face. 

They cannot be right about him. This is not the kind of man who has affairs. No fucking way. This man is an angel. 

I’ve been fooled before. 

You banish the thought with a quick shake of your head, then try to distract yourself by asking, “Do you still see ghosts?”

He looks up at you, then back at his work-in-progress with a shrug, “I don’t usually see them per se, it’s more like a, uhh… an understanding. Or a knowing, I guess. Like a picture in my head with a feeling attached to it.”

His features twitch animatedly as he talks, accenting his words, dark eyes glancing between the canvas and your face. 

“It’s like… have you ever had intrusive thoughts?” 

“Have I ever,” you snort.

“It’s like that,” he explains, “Like a flash of something. Not like that kid in the Sixth Sense, seeing them fuckin’ uhh… walking around and shit.” 

You hop up onto the kitchen counter and inquire, “Where’s the most haunted place you’ve been?” 

Dieter pauses mid-brushstroke and scrunches his face up as he thinks about this, resuming when he says, “Well, hotels are always the worst. They’re so transitive, you know, all this energy coming and going constantly. And the people stuck there… they usually went intending to have a good time, a vacation or party or whatever, and something happened to them. That, or… they went in with an intention not to come out and succeeded.”

The implication unfolds in your brain, and you nod. 

“Either way they seem to have unfinished business,” he shrugs and squints at the canvas, smudging paint with his thumb, “Usually they’re harmless, so it’s pretty easy to ignore,” he pauses here, clears his throat, then continues, “But in terms of the worst vibes I got, like, uhh… how scared it made me feel, it was definitely Ethan.”

Blood drains from your face and extremities, leaving you cold and dizzy. 

“I—I thought—wait, really?”

He squints up at the ceiling, like he’s re-evaluating his statement, then levels his eyes with yours with a nod, “Yeah. At first, at least. Like the first night I was there, I felt him and it was,” he furrows his brow and drops his gaze to the floor, “Dark. Really fucking dark. And I was already in a bad way, y’know, I went to your place straight from the airport and you were—”

“A fucking disaster?”

“A beautiful trainwreck,” he corrects with a persuasive smile. It falters as soon as he continues, “And I just had this big fight with Annie about the divorce and, uhh, stuff, and hadn’t used blow in a day or two, just… not great,” he swallows, then shakes his head, “I think maybe… he could sense that about me. It was a warning. I remember knowing that’s what it was.”

“Oh,” you breathe. Look down at your hands. Start picking at your cuticles.  

“It was hard to stay. So… I left.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad. I’m sorry. I mean, he told me that he liked you—”

“It got better, really, love. It’s fine,” he assures you, then frowns, “Wait, he told you he likes me? Did you ask him about me or something?”

“Well, yeah,” you drop your gaze to the floor, “I just wanted to—I don’t know, see if he approved, I guess.” 

His head jerks back and he blinks, “Oh.” 

“Yeah—he, um, told me that he always liked you,” you tilt your head at your dangling legs and chuckle, “Told me you were a triangle guy.” 

Dieter lets out a light puff of laughter. 

“He asked if you make me happy,” you tell him, so quiet it’s almost a whisper, then look up to study his reaction. 

He pulls his paintbrush from the canvas and stares at you, his eyes soft and searching, “And?”

A soft scoff flees your lips, and you say, “Of course you do, Dee.”

“Yeah?” 

This crooked smile spreads across his face and makes your heart ache. 

“Obviously,” you chuckle, grinning in return. 

Dieter seems to think about this, pink tongue rolling along his bottom lip as his eyebrow quirks. He sets his palette down on the little yellow file cabinet, drops his paintbrush into a cup of water, then crosses the room towards you. 

The way he looks at you seems to take a physical presence on your skin, making you shiver before he even reaches you. When he does, his hands slide up your bare legs, fingertips dipping under the hem of your jean shorts. His hips nudge your knees apart. 

You hook your arms around his neck as he tugs you closer, brushing his nose against yours, “You make me happy, too.” 

He kisses you, gentle for only a moment before your tongues meet. 

It’s so soft and wet it makes you gasp. A rumble sounds from his throat and his grip tightens. You arch your back, balling his shirt in your fist

He guides your hand to the bulge in his sweatpants, “Do you feel that? How happy you make me?” 

“That’s pretty fucking happy,” you grin, wrapping your fingers around his girth, over the soft fabric. You start to work him and he tosses his head back with a moan. 

Your lips meet his again, finding depth. It’s a slow heat, the way you take your time with his cock in your grip and your tongue in his mouth. Drives him crazy. His breaths carry strained groans that tickle your throat and make your cunt throb. 

When you roll your thumb against the damp spot in his sweatpants, he gasps, “Fuck–”

You hook a finger under his waistband, “I wanna see it.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, pausing to drag his tongue against yours, earning a whimper from you, then says, “Any time, any place, he’s all yours, baby.”

And right when he starts to pull down his pants, the front door swings open. 

You both jump and look towards the noise. 

In walks Darlene, cell phone pinched between her ear and shoulder, talking to someone on the other line, “Yeah, I just got to Dieter’s house, I’m going to tell him—Yeah, I will—Ok. Ok.”

Dieter rearranges himself and meets your eyes, murmuring, “To be continued,” before turning to approach her. 

“Yep, bye,” she tosses her phone in her designer bag and sighs, looking between the two of you, “Did I interrupt something?”

Your mouth gapes open. You shake your head and hop down off the counter, “We, um–we–”

Dieter cuts in, thank fucking god, responding, “No. What's the news?” 

Darlene raises an eyebrow at him, then you. She leans back against the dining room table and crosses her arms, “Well, I raised hell at DIRT. David Alterman is on disciplinary leave. The interview will be published without the phone call tomorrow. So… we will see what happens.” 

“Oh, that’s good!” you grin, glancing at the back of Dieter’s head, then to Darlene, “Thank you so much. And—and I’m sorry, you know, you had to deal with that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Darlene nods, flashing you a wane smile, then looks to Dieter, “Can I steal you for a sec? I have to talk to you about something.” 

He clears his throat and nods, “Yeah,” then follows her outside. 

You release a little chuckle and smile to yourself. 

The timer goes off. 

Dieter slides the door closed behind him, following Darlene around the centerpiece of his patio: a sprawling oak tree. He looks up into it as he trails behind, admiring all the twisted innards of the beast. When they step out of its shade and into the hot afternoon sun, he grimaces. 

She plugs a cigarette between her lips and lights it, asking him on the exhale, “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” he takes a step forward and leans against the steel railing, peaking over the edge to look down the cliffside. 

“How’s she doing since yesterday? That was a fucking mess,” Darlene leans on the railing beside him. 

Dieter scrunches his nose up, shrugging, “Kind of hard to read, I guess. She seems fine. But–but I don’t know, she’s just,” he pauses here and frowns, “I think I would be freaking out if I were her, you know? But she’s not? And I don’t know what to do about that.” 

She flicks her cigarette and raises her eyebrows, then sighs, “Actually, Dieter, that’s what I wanted to talk about with you.” 

“About what? Lua? What about her?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you serious about this girl?” 

“Jesus Christ, Darlene,” he groans, dropping his head, “Yes, I’m fucking serious. I wouldn’t be doing all this bullshit for just anyone.” 

“It just seems like there’s a lot you haven’t figured out. Maybe some things you haven’t discussed,” she takes a drag and looks him up and down, “What if I got some intel that says she’s still selling drugs?”

He plays along, inquiring, “What kind of drugs?”

“Edibles. Pot brownies, shit like that.”

“I’d say your intel is bunk. She’s straight.”

“Well, I looked into it,” she blows a plume of blue smoke out into the canyon, “She has no online presence, no license, sells out of her apartment—I mean, it fucking reeks, Dieter. How’s she able to make enough to live in that area with no marketing?”

“She doesn’t make a huge profit. I mean, this month I helped her with rent—”

“You’re fucking kidding me. So she’s using you—”

“No, she’s not. I had to beg her to let me help. It’s not like that,” he maintains, shaking his head, “I mean, who’s your source? Why are you even looking into this?” 

“I don’t trust her, Dieter! Something isn’t right, it’s not adding up.”

He pushes off the railing and pushes non-existent sleeves up his forearms, “Let’s say you’re right, and she’s selling edibles,” he stops for a beat, then scoffs, “Who fucking cares? Fucking pot brownies? Who gives a shit.”

“Movie studios care. The public cares. Doesn’t matter if it’s crack or pot, she’s a fucking drug dealer.”

“She’s not a fucking drug dealer, Darlene,” he snaps.

She stares at him. Takes a drag off her cigarette. 

He kneads his neck, shifting his weight from one foot, to the other, before throwing his hands out in exasperation, “I need you to just believe that, for once, someone loves me and is good for me. Please.” 

Darlene’s lips purse, “That’s what you said about Anika.”

“That—that’s different,” Dieter drops his gaze to the ground. 

“Is it, though?” she blinks at him, “You swore that was it, that she wasn’t a gold digger, and yet… now she’s ex-Mrs. Dieter Bravo. Walked away with almost half your estate in return for not selling your secrets. She’s a rich woman now.”

“Yep,” Dieter sighs, skidding his toes against the mahogany deckboards, “I’m just a big fuck up, you got me there.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she asserts, “I just want you to really think about this before doing anything… rash.” 

“I’m not going to run away and fucking marry her the first chance I get, ok?” he sneers, “Just—chill the fuck out.” 

“Dieter, let me be perfectly honest with you,” she drops her cigarette and crushes it with the toe of her beige pump, “I worry it’s more than you just being cunt-struck again.”

His head jerks back and he scoffs. 

She lowers her voice to a pleading tone, “Look, you’re falling headfirst into a serious relationship with this girl, she used to deal drugs, there’s all this shady stuff with her business, and… I just—I worry, are you, you know… are you ok?” 

“Am I ok?” he repeats the question, drenching it with incredulity, “What the fuck do you mean, am I ok?”

She studies his face, crossing her arms. A meaningful tilt of her head tells him everything he needs to know. 

His jaw gnashes from side-to-side and he shakes his head, “I’ve been clean for months, Darlene, because of her.” 

“Alright,” she raises her eyebrows and blinks, “Good.”

“Do you believe me?”

Darlene shrugs, “If you say you’re ok, you’re ok.” 

Bullshit.

“I am,” he confirms, his voice firm and final. 

“Great,” she nods, then pulls out her phone and looks at the screen, “Alright, well, I’ll keep an eye on things after the interview drops and let you know how it goes.” 

She stomps past him, the click-clack of her heels echoing out behind her, and exits out the side gate. 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, shaking his hands out at his sides, rolling his neck as he starts towards the glass patio door.

Dieter walks beside you as the hostess leads the way through the busy restaurant. Everything around him is white noise. It doesn’t matter at all. 

All that exists is his palm on the small of your back. His whole universe has boiled down to you, right now, draped in this white, flowing chiffon dress that Kelly picked out for tonight. You, all starry-eyed and dolled up, gawking at your surroundings because you’re just so damn excited to be at another fancy-schmancy restaurant.

Earlier today, while wrapped up in his sheets, you told him all about the menu, and haute cuisine, and French culinary history, and Escoffier. He closed his eyes and held your warm body in place next to his, content to listen to you chatter on as long as you’d allow him.

He loves that about you. How passionate you are in everything you do. How you slow to appreciate beauty in things like snowstorms, and layers in croissants, and even the subtle timbre of a cello woven into his favorite song. 

“Listen close,” you told him when you pointed it out, “It’s fucking incredible.” 

He did. 

He felt the chords vibrate through him, resolute and melodic. It gave the music new meaning, and he couldn’t believe he’d never noticed it before. He notices every time he hears it now. 

But that’s what you do. 

Everything seemed so fucking boring before you. Meaningless. You opened his eyes to what was right in front of him and gave it new life. Gave him new life. 

The hostess comes to a stop and gestures to a square table, laying a menu on either side of the white linen. You sit across from him and meet his gaze, face all lit up with that gorgeous fucking smile that makes his chest tighten. 

“Do you have a strategy in mind here?” he asks, leaning forward onto the table, rubbing his hands together, “Food, wine, dessert, the whole nine yards?”

“I love that movie,” you comment mildly, “Bruce Willis is hot.” 

He raises his eyebrows. 

“What?” you laugh.

“Bruce Willis, really?”

You study him, clearly very entertained, “Why, are you jealous?”

He scoffs at this, “No—I’m just saying, though, he’s never even been nominated for an Oscar—”

“Oh, well in that case,” you roll your eyes and let out this dramatic sigh. 

Dieter laughs and shakes his head, “Wow.”

“Ok, but really,” you turn your attention back to the menu. As you survey it, you tilt your head back and forth thoughtfully, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. A mischievous smirk plays on your lips and you ask, “Did Darlene say we were allowed one glass or one bottle of wine?”

Dieter taps an index finger to his chin and grins, “I recall her saying bottle, don’t you?”

“Mmmm, yep, now that you mention it, I’m like… 99% sure she said bottle,” you agree conspiratorially. 

He smiles up at you, but his breath hitches when something behind you catches his eye. 

Or, someone, rather. 

A bright tangerine dress tight around her petite, curvy frame. Loose chestnut curls flowing down her back. Glowing brown eyes locked onto his. A small smirk plays on her plump, shiny lips. 

His spine straightens and he mutters under his breath, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

You frown and follow his gaze to Lilly Stokes just as she pushes her chair back and starts towards the table. 

“Dieter, hiiii,” Lilly croons, squeezing his forearm, “How are you, Pookie? It’s been a minute.” 

Dieter watches your eyes flick between Lilly’s hand on his suit jacket, and her face, and Dieter’s face. He watches the gears turn. The light bulb turns on. Your eyebrows shoot up and you meet his gaze, then immediately drop your eyes to the tablecloth. 

“Fine,” he answers and leans back in his chair, pulling his arm from her grasp.  

Lilly glances back at her table, then to Dieter, “I’m here with Jay—you remember Jay, right?” 

Dieter blinks at her, thinking, “We’ve been inside you at the same time, of fucking course I remember Jay.”

But what he says is, “Yeah.” 

“Oh, duh,” Lilly waves off the obvious, then wets the seam of her mouth, eyes dragging along Dieter’s body, “We should merge tables so we can catch up.” 

“Oh, no—” Dieter shakes his head and gestures to you, “We’re—”

Lilly finally seems to notice your presence and turns towards you, “Oh my god, Dieter, she’s so cute, are you two on a date?”

“Yeah,” he meets your eyes for a moment before telling Lilly, “This is Louella.”

“Lou-el-la,“ Lilly repeats, enunciating each syllable like she’s trying to commit it to memory, “You don’t mind, do you, beautiful?” 

You stare at her for a beat like you’re trying to figure out what she’s asking, then stammer, “Me? Wh—I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s ok if we join you?” Lilly nods, batting her false eyelashes. She asks this in a condescending way, slowing her words down like she’s asking a toddler. 

Your throat croaks as you look from her, to Dieter, who’s mentally pleading, “Please no,” then back to Lilly, “Uhh—I mean, sure?”

He deflates as Lilly calls Jay over and pulls out a chair. You mouth, “Sorry.”

Jay Blackburn, who looks like a poor man’s Alexander Skarsgård but six inches shorter, saunters over, a lopsided grin plastered on his smug face, “Bravo. Long time no see.” 

“Yeah,” Dieter responds, shifting in his seat at the reminder. 

Across the table, you gnaw away at your bottom lip, eyes downcast, your bubbling excitement replaced with this raw, nervous energy. He soaks it up like a sponge. It trickles down his backbone and seeps into his bloodstream as he wrings his hands together. 

“Who do we have here?” Jay asks, dragging his eyes along your body, drinking in your beauty with zero fucking shame. 

Dieter’s jaw clenches and cocks to one side. His leg starts to bounce. 

“I’m Louella.”

A warm smile crosses your face and you extend a hand to him. 

Jay takes it in his like a baby bird and presses a kiss into your knuckles, then releases you, “Jay Blackburn.”

“Oh—um, nice to meet you,” you say, glancing at Dieter, then at Lilly, “And you are?”

Lilly bristles at this, huffing a little before her mask of sweetness goes back up and she responds, “Lilly Stokes.” 

“So nice to meet you,” you look from her to Jay, “Are you guys actors, too?” 

“Um, no,” Lilly lets out this half-chuckle, half-scoff, “That’s so funny. No. Well, maybe someday. But for now I’m just a makeup artist, content creator, brand ambassador for Wowie Zowie Cosmetics, and model,” she counts each role on her fingers, then adds as an afterthought, “Jay is a wellness guru.”

You furrow your brow, “Wellness… guru?”

“Lifestyle coach,” Jay corrects, “Shepherding people to wellness through mindfulness, yoga, and nutrition.”

Dieter rolls his eyes. 

“Ohhh,” you nod, “Wow, you’re both, like, really popular on the internet?” 

“I have over 10 million followers,” Lilly advises, “So, yeah.”

“She didn’t know who I was, either, if that makes you feel better,” Dieter teases, casting a smirk your way. 

You wince and shrug, “Yeah, I, umm… live under a rock, I guess. Sorry.” 

“I like that,” Jay says, still eyeing you up like you’re a piece of fucking meat, “It’s refreshing. We should all be so lucky to be sheltered from the world in such a digital age.”

You raise your eyebrows, “I mean, I read the newspaper every day, so I’m very much aware of what’s going on in the world—“

“Right, but,” Jay starts.

“—Just, you know, stuff that matters.” 

A stunned sort of silence falls over the table for a moment, then laughter erupts from Dieter’s throat. You grin at him, and Jay must think you were kidding, because he joins in on the laughter. 

“You’re funny,” Lilly flashes this smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, then lets out an exasperated sigh and looks around, “Are we going to get some fucking service here or what?” 

Throughout the meal, you remain quiet. 

You don’t share your thoughts on the cuisine, or the wine, or the world-renowned chef. Your face stays painfully neutral as Lilly and Jay dominate the conversation, going on and on in a masturbatory fashion about their busy lives. 

More than anything, Dieter wants to tell them to fuck off. He wants to tell them that neither of you fucking care about subscribers or algorithms or sponsorships. He wants to comment on the restaurant’s heavy-handed use of bear décor and kiss you and tell you he loves you. 

But Darlene’s warning to be on his best behavior rings in his head. 

Despite this, the one bottle of wine you agreed upon is easily negotiated up to two. 

After the plat principal is cleared from the table, Lilly leans towards Dieter and asks “So, what’s new with you? We haven’t heard from you in, what,” she turns to Jay for confirmation, “Months?”

“Summer, I think?” Jay supplies. 

“Yeah,” Dieter nods and looks up at you, watching the way you wiggle in your chair and look down at your lap. He shrugs, “I’ve been keeping busy.”

“I see how it is,” Lilly pouts, glancing between his eyes and mouth, “Pookie gets a girlfriend and forgets all about us.”

Heat rises to his face. Every muscle in his body clenches. A hundred violent images flash through his head. The words shut the fuck up wrestle their way up his throat. 

“How did you all meet?” you ask, plastering on this polite smile. 

Lilly combs her long fingernails through her hair, “I met Dieter at some fundraising gala last year.”

Dieter’s leg starts bouncing. He leans his elbows into the table and presses his closed fist against his lips, watching you absorb this information. But he can’t get a read on you. 

“She introduced us,” Jay nods to Lilly, “Yeah, we were at this party, it was fucking wild—”

“Lua doesn’t wanna hear about that,” Dieter cuts in, dropping a hand to the table.

“It’s fine, Dee,” you chuckle, then take a big swallow from your wine glass. Unconvincing. 

Jay ignores Dieter’s protest, “It was one of those nights where everyone got very well acquainted with one another, if you know what I mean.” 

Your fake smile twitches. 

“Sounds… hot,” you offer. You empty the remaining pinot grigio in your glass down your throat. Dieter mirrors the action, taking the wine like a shot of hard liquor. 

Lilly sips her martini and lets out this wistful little sigh, “Soooo hot.” 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you announce as you push your chair back, then hurry away from the table before anyone else can respond. 

His blood boils. 

He glares between Jay and Lilly, well aware of the slew of insults percolating at the tip of his tongue, held back by his awareness of the public eye surrounding them.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Lilly says.

Dieter grits his teeth and warns, “Lillith—”

She waves him off and starts towards the bathroom. 

“Dieter,” Jay smirks, tilting his head, “You seem upset.” 

“What an astute observation,” Dieter mutters, crossing his arms over his chest, “Fucking incredible.“ 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Oh, fuck off.”

Jay raises his eyebrows, “So we’re touchy, ok. Is it because I told the story?” 

Dieter says nothing, just grinds his teeth together. 

“She doesn’t know about your more salacious hobbies, I take it?” 

“She sure as fuck does now,” Dieter grumbles, “Thank you for that.” 

Jay scoffs, “What, is this your first date or something?”

“No.”

Jay hums and takes a sip from his cocktail. 

Dieter shakes his head. Scrubs a hand over his face. 

Then he sits up and points at your empty seat, “If she’s going to hear about that shit from anyone, it should be me. Not some fucking ghouls just trying to get a rise out of her.” 

“Then why didn’t she hear it from you?” Jay questions, pausing a beat before he sighs, “You know, you gotta own your demons, man. It’s not my fault you didn’t tell her—”

“Yeah, I fucking know, ok?” Dieter snips. He leans his elbows against the table, looking towards the women’s bathroom, “What’s taking them so goddamn long?”

Behind the roar of the flushing toilet, you hear the bathroom door open, followed by the sharp click of stilettos against ceramic tile. You open the stall door to find Lilly leaned up against the marble slab countertop, pulling a tiny silver canister from her clutch. 

She looks up at the mirror and makes eye contact with you, “Hey, girl.” 

“Hi,” you smile politely and approach the sink. 

While you wash your hands, you watch Lilly through the mirror as she cuts two thin lines of coke right on the countertop. She fishes a short straw out of her purse and holds it out to you, “Do you want any?”

The ghost of cocaine’s allure sends your heart racing. It’s tempting, but you decline. She shrugs and leans over the counter. You look away and hear the two deep, short breaths through the straw. You swear you can feel the rush vicariously. 

She sits up straight and keeps one nostril plugged closed, taking a few sharp inhales, making sure she got it all to the brain. Her eyes flutter and throat hums with contentment, “Fuck, that’s good. You sure you don’t want any? 

“I’m fine,” you assure her, but don’t go to leave. You lean one hip against the sink and cross your arms, “Did you and Dieter, like… date?” 

Lilly releases a chuckle, a sniffle, then rubs a fingertip against the white marble countertop where her blow was cut, “Oh, no. We fucked, like, a lot. But no, we never dated per se. It was more of a fuck buddy arrangement. No biggie.” 

She scrubs her finger against her gums, then turns to the mirror to assess her appearance. 

“Was that while he was still with Anika?” 

“Well, yeah, that’s how it started. He asked if I could be their third,” she sniffles a few times as she examines her nostrils, “I know Kate Ridley was seeing them for a while, but that must’ve fallen through. Anyway, we all fucked around and it was fun. I brought Jay with a few times. Then Anika got turned off or something, she didn’t wanna get together anymore. Jealous I think, probably. He reached out to me for some one-on-one time.” 

The information hits you like a slap in the face. A kick in the gut. A fist closed around your windpipe, squeezing tighter and tighter.  

You can’t breathe. 

“And of course I said yes. It doesn’t hurt to cozy up to a guy like him, with his connections and all. Good career move. Plus, he’s so good in bed. Fucks like an animal,” Lilly giggles, “Not that I have to tell you, right?”

Your face heats and lips part to respond, but she continues without regard. 

“If you ever wanted a third, I’d be happy to step in. Jay, too, I’m sure of it. He was checking you out. You’re hot, you know, in a non-traditional kind of way. How long have the two of you been going out?”

She stares at you, waiting. Your throat croaks and you hear yourself say, “A few months, officially.”

“Oh, are you two, like, serious?” 

You bring your hand to your throat and nod, “Yeah.”

“Weird,” she murmurs, “After what happened with Anika, I thought he was done trying to pretend he was like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… monogamous, you know. He told me he’s a free spirit, doesn’t want to be tied down by one person ever again, all that. Then he disappears and re-emerges in a supposedly serious relationship, no offense, but it’s just confusing.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, frowning down at the floor, “Well, maybe he changed?” 

“The man is almost 50, I doubt that,” she scoffs, checking herself out in the mirror, then glances over at you, “Or, I mean, maybe? Hopefully?” 

You nod solemnly and swallow the knot in your throat, “Should we go back?” 

“Sure,” she shrugs, then leads the way out of the bathroom, into the dining room. 

When you meet Dieter’s eyes, his annoyed expression goes slack. You lay one hand flat, palm facing the ceiling, balling the other into a thumbs up on top, and raise both hands. The signal he taught you back in your apartment before this clusterfuck started: Help. 

Once seated, you keep your eyes low, trying to keep the steady hum in your chest from amplifying. Everything seems fuzzy and out-of-focus.

It’s too much. Too much noise. Too much information. Too much change at one time. You want off this fucking ride. You want to be home in bed, hidden under the covers where no one can reach you. 

“We should go,” Dieter announces from far away. 

Your body is cement. Limbs frozen. Lilly’s words play on repeat at a deafening volume: 

I thought he was done trying to pretend he was like that.

He’s a free spirit, doesn’t want to be tied down by one person ever again. 

“Oh, come on, Pookie–”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” he growls, then softer, in your direction, “Are you ready, love?”

You nod, then look from Lilly to Jay, your smile wavering, “It was nice to meet you both.”

Dieter leads you past blurry tables of shiny, well-to-do patrons, his hand at the small of your back, burning through your dress. You can feel his gaze glued to your profile, trying to assess the damage. You can hear the words queued up behind his closed lips. 

A restaurant employee holds the door open for you. The cool night air kisses your heated, buzzing skin. 

“Hey, are you ok?” Dieter asks, his thumb working against your spine. 

You look down at the sidewalk and open your mouth to tell him, but it’s all a jumbled mess at the base of your tongue. Fire rises up your throat and tingles behind your eyes. You just shake your head and smother the sob in your chest. 

Tears bloom in your eyes and drop to the cement. You croak out, “I’m fine.”

He scoffs. 

The valet rolls up in Dieter’s cartoonish, pea soup-colored two-seater and tosses him the keys. 

Once inside, you clasp the seatbelt. Grip the leather upholstery. Stare out the side window as the landscape starts to move. 

“Louella” he coos, glancing between you and the road. 

The car clunks a little as he shifts gears. You grip the seat tighter. Watch the city lights fly by. 

He tries every once and a while to talk to you, but you can’t make yourself respond. 

You’ve been here before. 

You know what happens if you make a sound. If you vocalize the protest in your lungs.

What happens next is acceleration. 

Car horns. 

Impact. 

Those vacant black eyes. 

Darkness.

The second the car pulls into Dieter’s garage, you’re unfastening the seat belt. 

When he shifts to park, you yank on the door handle and scramble from the vehicle. 

The entryway door slams in Dieter’s face as you kick off the stupid high heels you never would have picked out for yourself. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” his voice booms through the house when he opens the door. 

By now, you’re halfway down the hall, making a beeline to his en suite bathroom, leaving a trail of jewelry behind you like breadcrumbs: the left earring, the right earring, bracelets, a necklace. All these brilliant ornaments Kelly loaned you to make you look more refined.

Dieter’s footsteps sound from a few paces behind as you turn into his bedroom. 

“Louella, come on. Why won’t you talk to me?”

The edge his words carry make your heart jump and your feet move faster. You hurry into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.  

He jiggles the handle, “What the fuck is this? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask. 

“That I slept with Lilly and Jay?“ he scoffs, “I didn’t think it mattered who I fucked before you—”

“That’s not what I mean. You know that’s not what I mean,” you press your forehead against the door and squeeze your eyes closed, “When I asked you what happened with you and Anika, you said the two of you grew apart. That—that she was resentful—like it was her fault–”

“Open the door so we can talk about this,” he says in a low voice, “Please, baby.”

You shake your head, whimpering, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The door handle jiggles again, “Come on, Lua, open the door.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, just unlock it—”

“Answer me.”

“GodDAMNIT–” 

A hard thud shakes the doorframe. 

You jump back and yelp. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” he seethes, “Lock yourself in my fucking bathroom instead of talking to me. You realize how fucking stupid that is, right?” 

He hits the door again. You scramble away from it, watching the doorknob rattle. 

“Stop it, Dieter,” you cry out, backing yourself up to the wall, “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you?” he scoffs, his words still steeped in red, “Do you really think I would fucking hurt you?”

You slide down the wall and collapse into a pile, covering your head. All you can hear are your own shattered breaths. 

A few quiet moments go by. 

When his voice comes again, it’s a plea. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You look up at the door and sniffle, wiping your eyes. 

“I—I wanted to tell you. I mean, I was going to tell you. I swear to god. It’s just,” there’s a soft thump against the door, and you can picture him on the other side, forehead pressed up against it, “Do you know how hard it is to admit that you’re a piece of shit?”

You don’t say anything, just watch his still shadow beneath the door. 

“Do you know how hard it is for me to willingly show you that? I mean, fuck. How–how are you supposed to trust me now?” 

What follows is silence. Broken up by occasional sniffles and wet, labored breaths. Your chest aches.

Slowly, you rise to your feet and pad across the cool tile floor. 

When you reach the door, you don’t say anything, just press your palm against the barrier where you think his heart is. And you swear, if you concentrate hard enough, you can feel its steady rhythm.

“How are you supposed to love me now?” he whispers, “You won’t even look at me, Louella.”

Your eyelids clamp shut and you take a deep breath. Then you step back and turn the doorknob, pulling the door open. 

And there he is. 

Dieter Bravo. The man you love. 

His eyes all puffed-up and red-rimmed, cheeks streaked with tears. Every handsome feature laced with remorse. 

You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his suit jacket. He envelops you in a warm embrace and squeezes you tight. 

“I’m–I’m sorry for yelling,” he tells you in a hoarse whisper, petting your hair, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I lost it.”

You swallow hard and rub his back, a silent kind of reassurance. 

“I would never hurt you, Lua,” his voice cracks, “I’m not him. I’m not him.”

Instantly, tears flood your eyes. 

“I know, love,” you croak out, pulling him closer, “I know.”

Dieter kisses the crown of your head with reverence. Then your forehead. He tilts your chin to face him dead on, grazing his nose against yours, “Wanna talk about this more in the bath?”

You nod and weave your fingers through the curls at the back of his head. His lips meet yours, lingering for a tender moment before he pulls back and makes his way over to the soaking tub. 

While you wash the makeup off your face, he fiddles with the water temperature and crumbles a magenta bubble bar in the stream. The sweet scent of blackcurrant fills the air. You glance up in the mirror and see him shucking off his suit jacket, eyes trailing down your spine. His breath heats the nape of your neck when he draws close and unzips your dress, his movements gentle and slow as he slides it off your shoulders. 

The dress falls at your feet. You turn to face him, murmuring, “Look up.”

He does, and you set to work on his shirt buttons. When you’re halfway down his chest, he asks, “Will you tell me what she said?”

“She, um,” you pause to bite down on your bottom lip, then sigh, “She told me you and Anika would fuck around with her and sometimes Jay. Then, you know, just her.”

He hums in acknowledgment. 

You reach the end of his button-down, then spread the shirt apart. As he takes over tugging it off, you ask, “Was that something that you wanted, or…?”

“We both wanted to try it,” he shrugs. Your hands move to his belt buckle and you unfasten it. He continues, “Thought it would reignite that passion. It was fucking stupid because it just made us both jealous.”

He pauses to kick off his slacks, then ushers you face the mirror again. You watch him unclasp your bra and toss it aside, glancing up when you recount, “She said you didn’t want to be tied down by one person ever again.“

He nods, diverting his gaze, “Yeah. Well, that’s true. I didn’t,” then his eyes return to yours, “But then you came along. Fucked up all my big plans to be lonely and miserable forever.” 

You can’t help but grin. 

He casts a backwards glance at the tub, “I think it’s ready.” 

Dieter gets in first, groaning as he lowers himself into the bubbles. You sit on the opposite side and tip your face to the ceiling, stretching your legs across him, then sink down to your shoulders. 

The water burns your skin a little, but you like it. It feels real. 

“Hey,” Dieter rumbles. 

You swivel your head down to look at him, but can only see bubbles.

“Holy shit,” you giggle, then sit up and meet his eyes, “What?”

“Come here, doll,” he reaches out to you.

You slide your feet under the water and crawl over to him, closing your eyes as you lay your cheek on his shoulder and relax against his body. He wraps his arms around your waist, snuggling you like you’re his favorite teddy bear. 

One of your hands occupies itself by absentmindedly tracing the edges of his jaw. The shell of his ear. That one silver hoop earring he refuses to part with. Your nails work into his hairline and play with his damp curls. 

“Were there others?” you ask him. 

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, then he admits, “Yeah. A few. Just hookups, really. Lilly was the most consistent, and that was still, you know…”

“No strings attached?” you smirk. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why did you do it?” 

Your spine arches as he draws a big breath in, then releases it, “All the reasons I said it didn’t work. That was true, you know. I was gone a lot. Filming, meetings, press stuff. A few days here, a week there. There was one stretch where I was gone for two months. I’m not drowning in work or anything, but it adds up. I don’t think she realized that being with me meant being away from me that often. And. Yeah. 

“At first, it upset me a lot. I thought she would be supportive and loving. Compassionate, you know. But she turned so cold when she was mad. Completely ignored me. Acted like I didn’t exist. Even when I begged for her reassurance, for her to show me she still cared and noticed me, but she wouldn’t react. I felt like a ghost. It-it kind of reminded me—”

He pauses here for a moment, holding his breath, then releases a soft, sad chuckle. His Adam’s apple bobs. When he starts again, his voice is watery. 

“It reminded me of what it was like for me growing up. If I didn’t please my dad, he would ignore me completely. I would act out, be loud, push him until he exploded. Because then… then at least I knew he could see me. It was something, you know?”

You blindly cup his cheek and graze your thumb against his beard to let him know you’re listening. He nuzzles into the touch, a small rumble sounding from his throat. 

“Maybe I was acting out with Annie? Or maybe just trying to… fill that emptiness, loneliness. Or numb out. Forget that my wife didn’t love me anymore. I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter. I started using again. Heroin, oxy, bars, morphine, adderall, booze. Whatever I could get my hands on, really. But blow has always been my favorite. It makes me feel…”

“Powerful?”

“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah. Powerful. And with other people I actually felt… desired. Plus, they were both a rush. I felt alive. When I was home I was hollow. I stopped groveling for her affection when I started fucking around. Neither of us wanted to work on the hard things. The whole fucking thing, you know, it metastasized. And—and our relationship died.” 

“Fuck,” you grimace. 

Dieter cranes his neck to look at you, “Too bleak?”

“No, it’s not that,” you tell him, “It’s just… familiar.”

Adrenaline spikes your bloodstream. Your mouth opens to say more, then you close it and hold your breath. 

He rests his cheek on your head. Squeezes you a little tighter. Like he’s prodding you so say more. 

“Do I make you happy?” you ask him. 

“Do you make me happy?” he repeats, disbelief raising his voice an octave. 

You nod.

“I told you earlier,” he kisses your hairline, “You make me so happy, Louella.” 

“But will you feel the same tomorrow?” 

“Obviously,” he lets out a little snort of laughter like he thinks you’re kidding. Silence settles. His body seems to tense and he adds, “Really, love, I mean it.”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip. Brows lace together. Then you ask, “What about a month from now?”

“Don’t do that, come on—”

“A year from now? Or—or longer, even—”

“Lua,” he huffs, then pulls you up to face him. His eyes are soft and pleading. He brushes his knuckles against your cheek, “Look, we won’t be happy every second of every day. You know why?”

A sharp pain radiates across your chest. You wince and shake your head. 

He tilts your chin up to meet his eyes and says, “Because it’s fucking impossible. If we do this thing right, which I fully intend to, sometimes we’re going to be scared, and frustrated, and–and we might want to take an easy way out. But I’m telling you that I will not do that. Because I love you.” 

You search his face and only find sincerity. Your stomach flips in a freefall so violent it makes you gasp, “Fuck, I love you.”

He smirks, gaze flicking between your eyes and lips, “And I’m going to love you tomorrow.” 

Your heart skips. Heat creeps up your neck. 

He cups your cheeks and locks his eyes onto yours, “And the next day, and ten years from now, and all the way until my next fucking life, ok?” 

“Ok,” you nod. Tension liquifies and drains from your body. The corners of your mouth upturn and you ask, “What then?” 

“What then?” he snorts, shaking his head with amusement, “What do you think? Hmm?”

You grin and shrug, pressing the tip of your tongue to your front teeth. 

His eyes drop to your mouth and he pulls you in for a kiss. When you part, he murmurs, “I’ll fucking find you in the next life and fall in love with you all over again.”

The words electrify you. You hook your hands behind his head and press your forehead against his, “Promise?” 

“Cross my heart,” he murmurs, and kisses you again.

[theoxenfree]

and the last yap post I'll make for today: as much of a bummer it is to really no longer engage in fandom bc I feel like old moots don't really talk to me anymore (there are a handful and I love y'all tremendously 🫂, and I'm also not owed that interaction blah blah blah), I definitely feel like it was absolutely the right choice for me to completely separate myself from it

I feel so much more creatively inspired, which is probably more important to me than anything else. I have so many ideas, my passion feels reignited, I genuinely want to keep improving myself as a writer

and even tho my stories aren't, like, doing stellar by any means idk, I'm just having more fun simply existing on here, writing my little things, talking to a few ppl sometimes, and moseying around irl doing my own thing

it was a good call, tbh

[ellievickstar]

Look Pretty (Eris x Reader)

A/N: I was listening to 2016 songs and Sit Still Look Pretty by Daya came one and let me tell you, inspiration is real. Shout out to Eris for choosing wisely. I really want to do an Azriel version. Idk. This follows the song quite closely, hence the lyrics in the dialogue. A lot.

Summary: After finding out your being betrothed to the Lord of Autumn in place of your sister Mor, you begin to visit the woods more often to have time to yourself when a hooded stranger meets you. 

Inspiration: Sit Still Look Pretty by Daya

Requested: Non-existent

Warnings: Beron Vanserra, Arranged Marriage, Mentions of domestic abuse

~*~*~*~*~

“You can’t do that!” You yelled as you stood from the table. Your father, Keir, had just broken the news that you were going to marry the heir to the High Lord of Autumn, Eris. Your father simply pursed his lips as he reprimanded you for your poor manners, you mother began to yell at you for not dutifully accepting that you need to play a part to extend your family power. You shook your head in disbelief as you stormed out of the room, telling them you needed time to think.

You walked down the long halls of the Hewn city as you made your way out of the castle and stormed to the forest on the outskirts of the city. Once you had gotten far out enough, you sat down as you looked at the beautiful night sky. A week. That’s all you had lefty before the High Lord’s son would whisk you away and make you his wife for the rest of eternity. You knew that the females in the Autumn Court suffered way more then the ones in the Night Court, you wouldn’t survive. You would be used as some breeding tool to breed powerful heirs because of your stupid magic.

You wept silently as you wished that things could change, that by some luck you could get away. But, after what happened with Morrigan, they kept tabs on you often and you weren’t allowed past the border in the forest from the Illyrian camps, you couldn’t get back if you tried because everyone would bring you right back and males would know to stay away from you so giving away your virginity was out of the question.

The sound of crushing leaves made your ears perk up as you wiped your face. “Why do you cry, young one?” A voice said, male. You rolled your eyes as you looked to the source of the voice, a hooded male. You debated sharing your woes to this stranger, ill talking your father was probably a bad idea, but you didn’t have anything left to lose.

You broke down as you told the male about the engagement, your powers, your restrictions, how you were forced into everything your whole life, how you had no control. Going to the Autumn Court would only make you more suffocated as people made you prepare and build you become the dutiful wife of the Young Lord of the Autumn Court.

“But, wouldn’t someone so beautiful as you want to be pampered your whole life? By marrying the Lord you would be set for life,” He stated. You only laughed dryly. “How are you so sure that means happiness?” You asked, he only stayed silent. You sighed as you looked back at the sky.

“I spent my whole life under the control of my parents, being spoilt might be what I’m used to, but I want fun. I want to make the wrong choices, I want freedom. And this,” You gestured to your gown and jewellery, “Isn’t it.”

“You don’t like a lavish life style?”

You pursed your lips at the question. “Not exactly,” You frowned s you considered your words carefully, “I love dressing up, but I’m not doing it for myself, I’m doing it for my reputation, for my parents, and marrying Eris…” You trailed off as your eyes darted from the male to the border of the Autumn Court far off.

“It would just be another guildes cage. I could always dress up and pretend, but, on the inside I don’t think I’ll be happy,” “Why? Many females would be happy to dress up in pretty jewels and call it a day, let their husband do all the work,” He questioned. You huffed again, annoyed at this prying and mosey male, but it wouldn’t hurt to explain.

“I could dress up to get love. But, I never will be that female,” You said disdainfully. “I could play dutiful wife and pretend that I need some strong male. But I don’t. Especially not a male who probably abuses his power and will treat me like some plaything, from what I’ve heard,” You corrected. He nodded, encouraging you to continue.

“I mean, I know that sitting around and only worrying about what I’m wearing is probably a dream for a lot of females, but I’m not a puppet, I’m a human and I want to…” You thought for a moment and the male cocked his head, intrigued. “Want to change the world,” You laughed at yourself, but he seemed genuinely interested. “Why?” He asked again. You shrugged. 

“Cause I want to,” You said, “Because that’s where I wanna be, I don’t want to sit still and look pretty,” You scrunched up your face as he laughed, it was genuine laughter, something you hadn’t heard in a while, and it wasn’t at how strange your dreams were, it seemed to be something else, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

More footsteps approached and you sighed, it was probably the guards that were sent out by your father to make sure you weren’t doing anything wrong. You were about to bid goodbye to your new companion, but he had already left, only a note remained. 

~*~*~*~*~

The note had stated clearly that if you wished, he’s be back there the same time at night. You quickly gobbled down your food and excused yourself, telling your parents that you wanted to go for a walk, when your father had tried to protest, you simply explained that you wished to enjoy your last few days in the Night Court before you go to Autumn with your betrothed. He didn’t say a word after. 

You crept to the same spot that you had gone to the night before, and true enough, he was there. You could see the flash of a grin from under the heavy hood he was wearing and you smiled in return. That’s when he handed you a bottle. You sniffed it and recoiled at the strong scent of alcohol. 

“You seemed like you needed to let loose last night, so I brought alcohol,” He deadpanned. You looked at the awaiting bottle, and looked back at the male before grabbing it and gulping the contents. He chuckled as he reminded you to slow down. 

A few minutes of drinking in silence later, you finally caved to the wait of your struggled. “I don’t want to be a dutiful wife,” “You said that yesterday,” He hummed. You rolled your eyes as you sat down on the ground against a tree, he quickly joined you. 

“I mean, Eris could easily be the type of male that likes to control everything and that would include me, and I would much rather fly solo,” You whistled as you gestured a bird flying with your hands drunkenly. He smiled at you, and you giggled at your own actions. “There’s a children story,” He started, and you turned your head to look at him, “It’s called Snow White and there were technically seven men to do the chores for her,” He stated. You clapped as you agreed replied, “Because that isn’t what a lady is for,” You cheered. 

He chortled at you childish acts and you punched him lightly in the shoulder. 

“Even if he is nice, the only thing his father is going to give me would be captivity,” You mumbled, suddenly saddened at the thought. The atmosphere seemed to shift as he turned his body and rubbed circles on you back as you cried drunken tears. “You’ll be alright,” He promised and you sniffled while wiping your face. “How do you know,” You asked, he stayed silent before saying, “I just know you will change the world, Little flame,” And with that, he left. 

You didn’t see him the next night. 

Or the one after. 

~*~*~*~*~

The day you dreaded finally arrived as you dragged yourself out of bed that morning. You tried to look out the window to see if you could spot that familiar hooded male with the deep and enchanting voice. Nothing. You sighed as the handmaiden came to call you to the meeting room, it was time to meet your betrothed and then leave for the Autumn Court. 

You slowly entered the sitting room as you straightened your skirts, your eyes flitted from your father to the two red-headed males. Your father, introduced you smoothly and you bowed your head slightly, lips tightly pressed together. 

“She is rather young, isn’t she?” Beron mused as flames shot out, you were startled as a shield of starlight blocked the blow and created a shield of night around you on instinct. Dark starlight glowed in your hands as you raised you arms. You winced at the impact and he chuckled darkly, Eris remained seated as he kept a neutral expression. 

“Eighteen is old enough to have power, my lord,” You breathed as you lowered your shield and straightened your skirts again, the posture of ever-loving elegance and grace. He hummed in agreement as he motioned for your father to step out of the room for a moment. 

You sighed as you approached the seat allocated for you and turned your hands over as starlight glowed. Your eyes flitted to Eris and you were intrigued when you saw amusement glow in his eyes. 

“Quite the show there, little flame,” 

~*~*~*~*~ A/N: I AM FINALLY DONE WITH THIS :D There will be part 2 cause why not. BYE LOVES <3333 (Idk I’m very high on sugar today)

taglist: tag list: @moonfawnx @bankerfrog @younxii @starlit-terror @hideing@flightlesslittlebirdie @menagerofmischief @famousbasementpainter@owllover123 @cityofidek @gigisssz 

[splatooshy]

okay, so i’ve got my ‘Eternal Teenager’ verse, right — yk, the one where enzo and damon escape in the 50s and then pose as stefan’s legal guardians in 2009, that one?

well, i forgot about it until a moment ago, when i came across the file for it and saw some of the gems in there.

and boy, oh boy, are there some gems.

- damon gets enzo to steal thierry’s hat each time hes in nola (‘cause damon’s banned n all). has a collection of them (maybe a whole cupboard of them? idk something wacky like that. a display cabinet? each hat on a little stand with an engraved label below).

- kol turned enzo. idgaf about canon, this is a true story.

in 1888, kol’s moseying ‘round london, a-whistling and a-ripper-ing when a dying enzo turns up, sees kol dismantling a woman like a grotesque puzzle, and goes “huh. could you spare any change?” and kol thinks it would be a catastrophe to deprive the world of a man that unphased by the sight of innards becoming outtards, so, deciding he’s found a new best friend with benefits, kol turns enzo, declaring him the world’s most level headed vampire. enzo goes along with it because, well, he doesn’t really have anything better to do.

1914 - damon’s living it up in nola and so is kol. enzo signs up for the great war as an american, because kol says he has a top secret mission he needs enzo for. (“hey mate, while you’re over there, think you could shoot at marcellus with wooden bullets for me?” “we’re on the same side…” “please 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺” “if i see him, sure. not gonna hunt him down though.) enzo leaves kol at the bar less than a minute before damon walks in (they pass eachother at the threshold.) damon is meeting freya because they’re bffs, kol sees them sitting at their table and thinks to himself ‘wow look at that lovely lass on a date over there. i should go over and ask her out.’ and struts on over to hit on freya. freya just looks at damon, then at her brother, going ‘yeah, um, i’m not really interested, sorry.’ and kol instantly grins and waggles his eyebrows knowingly like ‘ah, i see. you’re one for the ladies then, aren’t you? no matter.’ and then turns to damon and starts flirting with him. (on the extremely rare occasion that someone may not want to have sex with him, kol instantly decides they’re most definitely a lesbian. because even the straightest male would jump him in an instant.)

oh and once kol decides that freyas a lesbian, he won’t hear otherwise, not even 96 years later when he’s undaggered (“damon, what happened to the clever witch you befriended?” “i’ve known lots of clever witches, kol, you’re gonna have to be more specific” “the lesbian, from new orleans” damon blinks “freya? she wasn’t a lesbian…” “uh, yeah she was, she told me so herself” “no, she just didn’t want to sleep with you,” “exactly, because she was a lesbian!”) OH OH OH and finn’s in the background being all… well, finn, and he perks up like a little dog when he overhears freya’s name. fun bit irrelevant to the plot.

ANYWAYS back to 1914. so enzos at war, kols up to nefarious acts with mary alice and astrid, damon and freya are best friends and have comfort sex bc theyre both tragically touch starved. damon and kol have a sneaky little thing on the side, but then one day kol disappears #daggered and then freya tells damon to meet her outside dowager fauline cottage in 99 years before disappearing. damon’s sad and thinks ‘well at least i’ve learned to be patient’ (thinking of katherine).

[iniqiiiluvs]

Atwow human hc’s

The tonowari’s (idk what their last names would be 😭)

They are māori obviously

They do a lot of outside shit

They’re strong asl

Tonowari

This man is HUGE like he’s tall asf and wide💀

The tats go crazy

Very muscular

I feel like he would have 3c hair

Very shiney silky hair

VERY tan

Very nice def looks mean tho

This man be whipping in the kitchen bruh

Like let me get a plate

Cares deeply for his family

Ronal

Looks mean is mean

She can be nice sometimes

I feel like she would have lighter skin

Wavy butt length 2b hair

Baddie😮‍💨

Someone said she would work in the medical field and I couldn’t agree more

Also great hair genes

That’s all I have for her

Ao’nung

Was bad asf as a kid and bad asf now 😭

caramel skin tone

He’s so fuckin fine like damn 😮‍💨

Tall asl like 6’1

Mid back length 3b hair

Takes pride in his culture and heritage

Has his hair up most of the time but when he takes it out LAWD

Nice eyebrows

Leanish muscular bod

Popular

Tsireya

SO PRETTY

So nice too people can’t help but to fall in love

Big 5’5 energy idk

Thicc eyebrows like her brother

They def get them from their dad

Waist length 3b hair

Gets her nails done like almost every week

Smells SO good

Baddie just like her mama

Great hair routine

Also popular

Roxto (because why not)

Cutieee

Looks like lil mosey (obviously) but darker skin

He’s so shy and awkward

5’9 energy

Raised by granny energy (like everyone says)

His hairline is CRISPY

fade w 3b curls (idk the name of the hairstyle)

Not popular and doesn’t have a problem w that

Very oblivious when someone has a crush on him because he can’t fathom the fact that someone likes him

I feel like he has a obsession with jolly rancher’s idk

Had braces but never wore his retainer but his teeth NEVER shifted 😭

He can EAT a lot

Yuh

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

✨☁️ Tag Game Tuesday ☁️✨

hi and thankya @celestialmickey, @metalheadmickey, @heymrspatel

name: ray

age: 30

how many hours of sleep did you get last night? i fell asleep on the couch at 10pm and then moseyed to my bed at 12 and then woke up at 8:30 because im off work today. so that.

which do you use more: tumblr mobile or desktop? desktop prob

a hobby you’d like to pick up: i wanna get back into piano. i have a shitty little keyboard and was really into it years ago but idk how to read piano sheet music or anything. i just dick around with it.

if you were a crayon, what color would you be? love this question. umm. a deep blue/green that's got that metallic shine finish to it.

what was your average screen time last week? 2h 43m apparently

a song you put on every playlist: loving u is harder by SEB. so vibey and that keychange restarts my brain in the best way.

favorite holiday: halloween 🦇

something on your bucket list: kinda just trying to get through each day unscathed atm

you’re invited to a costume party, what are you dressing up as? reviving my frozen Jack Dawson costume

what show takes up the most space in your brain? you know the answer to this. otherwise i've been thinking about the new season of black mirror a lot. specifically beyond the sea

and finally, share something you’re looking forward to: camp being over in a little over a month so i can have some time off and write with a clear brain

tagging if you wanna: @tanktopgallavich, @rereadanon, @mmmichyyy, @callivich, and you if you would like to <3