#some sort of platonic ideal i think

[problemnyatic]

[macroglossus]

one of the gift ideas my best friend gave me for her christmas present was a Tote Bag because i always use tote bags and she thought it might be nice to have one of her own. when asked about design she said "you know me you know what i like". i do know her and i do know what she likes mostly but there are a few issues:

-she does not typically carry purses and instead favors either small crossbody bags or backpacks. however a tote bag implies a certain size and i'm unsure a.) whether she'd be dissatisfied with a normal sized tote bag because it's much bigger than she's used to carrying or b.) whether she'd be dissatisfied with a smaller tote bag because she was expecting a normal sized one for toting around objects (as the name would in fact suggest)

-some of the things she likes privately she would not like on a very visible every day bag, for example overblown metaphors about pomegranates et cetera. or cats or things like that. there can of course be elements of cheesiness but to a degree where it comes off as self aware/ironic not fully just "i can't control myshelf bookshelf image" (Not that there's Anything Wrong With That it just is a requirement). the issue is that because i spend most of my time with her privately i'm not always aware of where this distinction lies

-i want to get her something sturdy/not dogshit quality so she can use it regularly and w/o having to worry about the straps ripping off, and i want it to have functional inner pockets. however: a.) she's vegetarian considering going vegan so no leather and b.) environmental concerns with faux leather. however most of the tote bags i see in a style i think she'd actually like are either made of one of those materials or of dogshit quality. there is one i've been considering but it's made of denim and i'm worried about the jurse accusations

-if i buy a plain totebag and paint a design on it she will accept it and say she loves it and she probably will be very touched by the gesture. however it will not serve the utilitarian function she intends for the bag and therefore derails the intended purpose and makes it more about like. the Thought that Counts. which i don't want

-i am genuinely willing to spend a solid amount of money on this but i am concerned that in fact i will get it wrong even if i land on something that somehow fits these requirements and then she'll feel bad because the bag is not to her taste but she'll have to use it anyway because she loves me and she doesn't want me to feel bad about not Understanding Her (WORST CASE SCENARIO)

[sthilarions]

Something I think we tend to forget is that, a lot of the time, Charles frankly isn’t particularly careful of Edwin’s feelings.

He brought someone Edwin didn’t like into their shared home and had her crash in what is effectively their bedroom not only without asking Edwin but actively against Edwin’s wishes, which would be dick behavior from even just a normal roommate let alone whatever they are.

He keeps on siding with Crystal, occasionally actively verbally putting Edwin down in the process, when it’s visibly upsetting Edwin (which pushes Edwin to go further than he should to prove his worth to them both - the spell on the cat, the iron bars, etc).

Shrugging Edwin off on the cliff.

Not seeming to realize how Edwin would take him ‘hating being dead’, and even when Edwin makes it pretty clear, initially trying to shrug it off with a joke that turns it around on Edwin (‘you’ve been holding on to that one’).

Getting pissed at Edwin about the Cat King to a degree that Edwin is genuinely confused by.

“Cause who else is going to hold it together and keep the spirits up? You, are you going to do that, huh?” like OUCH okay damn if I were Edwin I’d’ve gone into a full spiral based on that line alone

And a lot of other little things, throughout the show, some very understandable given the pain Charles himself was in and some less so.

But that last one, that’s the key, I think.

Because he does try.

He coaches Edwin through breathing when he gets stressed. Tells Edwin that the answer must be in that big brain of his somewhere; praises Edwin, in general. Tells Crystal that Edwin’s traumatized and to be considerate of him being Like That. Keeps a smile on, overall, tries to keep Edwin as happy as Edwin gets (and most of the time, it works). Does his best to reassure Edwin about the ‘I hate being dead’ thing once it’s clear and unavoidable that Edwin took it to heart. Keeps an eye on Edwin’s tells (the fist-pressing) so he can try to soothe Edwin when he’s too tense. And so forth. And so on.

And on the steps of Hell? You can actually see the shift. Edwin tries to start a conversation when Charles isn’t ready for it, and Charles initially responds, while not negatively per se, with kinda-rude-jokes and rushing - the Orpheus and Eurydice comment, for example, while very thematically lovely to the audience, probably came off mocking to Edwin, and was clearly an attempt to downplay and avoid the situation from Charles.

But then he realizes Edwin means it. That this moment matters.

And he stops, and thinks.

And he takes care.

He gives the most careful, considerate response to a love confession I’ve ever seen, so incredibly gentle with Edwin’s heart it almost hurts to watch.

And the thing is…

I think all of this makes that more, not less.

Because he’s not just some sort of naturally perfect partner. He doesn’t automatically say and do the right things, isn’t a platonic ideal of Considerate Best Mate who always says what you need to hear and never hurts you by accident or by carelessness or because he’s hurt himself.

When he cares for Edwin like that, it’s because he worked for it. He’s trying, he’s putting all his heart into protecting Edwin’s, he’s thinking through his words even though that’s not natural for him, he’s consciously putting Edwin over himself, he’s training himself in how to take care of Edwin (watch for the signs of stress, learn the rituals that help Edwin calm down, always remember how he’s been hurt).

And, just. Fuck. That means so much more than if he were just perfect by nature.

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: Family Reunion

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.3K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: description of intense injuries (DISLOCATIONS/BURNS), trauma from abusive mother, description of child neglect/abuse, GROSS MEN ALERT!

—————

I'm going there to see my mother She said she'd meet me when I come

I'm just a-goin' over Jordan I'm just a-goin' over home

I'm going there to see my father I'm going there, no more to roam

I'm just a-goin' over Jordan I'm just a-goin' over home

The Tipsy Bison ha a stillness that the patrons noticed the normal presence of Joel Miller but tonight it was much more intimidating as he waited there. Ellie returns holding a glass for Joel and herself, his signature whiskey on the rocks, and water for herself.

“You’re too filled with anxiety you gotta chill,” Ellie pushes the drink to him and he gives the girl a look before accepting a drink. He takes a bitter sip from it before looking out the window to the approaching sunset.

“It’s sundown,” Joel says trying to stand but Ellie forces him back down.

“Come on Joel have some faith in him,” Ellie reassures him and he huffs but settles back in his seat taking his drink down like a shot. There seemed like a sort of tension in the air just waiting for something to snap. The door to the Tipsy Bison opens and Joel relaxes seeing it is only his brother who enters. Tommy comes over to the table and pulls up a chair.

“Look I talked to Maria and the council the best they can offer is removing both Y/n and Lila from the house until we can get to the bottom of it. But if neither Y/n nor Lila give us evidence that abuse or anything is happening in that home…” Tommy hesitates to speak knowing it would piss Joel off, “They would go back to them.”

“That’s bullshit, Tommy. She goes Y/n wrapped around her finger, she could beat her black and blue, and still she would defend her.” Joel says slapping his palm on the table.

“Look I know it’s not ideal but it’s the best we can offer,” He raises his hands in defense, “I also talked to Maria about other stuff though…Joel, when’s the last time we saw Y/n’s mother?” Both Joel and Ellie give him a confused look at the absurd question.

“Just answer for my sanity.” Tommy urges and Joel thinks about the last time they interacted.

“Probably in the early years of the outbreak, we were all together in Dallas before we split,” Joel explains and Tommy nods.

“So say like…about eighteen years ago,” Tommy says and Joel unconsciously nods if his math was right yeah around that time.

“Holy shit,” Ellie says having caught on and Joel gives her a confused look before looking over at his brother.

“What?”

“Did you hook up with Y/n’s mom?” Ellie asks quite loudly and Joel shushes her looking around to make sure no one heard. “I’m serious did you?” Joel looks over at his brother with a face reading ‘Well did you?’ he sighs pinching his bridge.

“It was only a few times,” Joel mumbles, and Tommy coughs under his breath ‘Bullshit’ which Joel glares at him but takes in the implication. “There’s no way she’s…”

“Joel think about it, I didn’t even notice it but she looks like a mixture of you and her mother but she acts fully like you,” Tommy explains and Joel looks away, “You haven’t looked at her and not seen yourself…or even Sarah?” The comment of his deceased daughter makes him turn to his brother and Tommy can see it on his face. He has thought about it, it’s been on his mind since that night he brought you home from the clearing. Why does he keep blending memories of Sarah with you when you should have no place in his mind or heart? But he can’t help it.

“Let’s say she is. You saw her reaction to seeing her mother and her father, who could be her actual father,” Joel says and Tommy gives him a look.

“That man looks nothing like her, sure Lila does but Y/n no fucking way,” Tommy says and Joel sighs putting his head in his hands. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. Your mother had to know who the father was, and if he was the father why would she keep it from him? Unless she didn’t learn until after they parted ways and there was no chance of reconnecting in this world. Too many thoughts ran through his head and he wanted to just be clear of them.

A loud crack fills the air and everyone in the bar is brought to the attention an edge to the room. Joel sits up straight and his gaze darts around at the other patrons who seem to freeze trying to listen to what that noise is. The doors to the bar swing open and Joel catches a glimpse of your father with a shotgun before it erupts into chaos.

A round shatters the table within the time Tommy flips the table over to shield them as Joel grabs Ellie protecting her from the blown-off wood.

“Joel Miller!” Derek shouts and another shot is fired but not aimed at them but at the bar. Joel flinches seeing the barkeep sent back dead before he hits the ground with the shotgun he tried using in his grasp. Other patrons scream ducking to hide from the violence happening before them. “Come on out Joel…I wanted to ask some advice you know father to father.” His voice calls out and Joel keeps his back pressed against the wood glancing over at the shotgun that lies just feet away.

“Tommy get Ellie out of here, find Maria, and get the girls out of here,” Joel whispers to his brother and Ellie gives him a look.

“We’re not leaving you, Joel!” Ellie whisper-shouts.

“I’ll be fine! Ellie listens to Tommy do everything he says,” Joel orders, and Ellie frowns but nods, “On my signal you to head to the kitchen door.” Both Tommy and Ellie nod as Joel grabs the whiskey glass calming his racing heart. Quickly he rises and throws the glass at Derek hitting him on the head Joel rushes to the bar as Ellie and Tommy rush to the kitchen doors. Derek fires at the doors as the swing closes. Leaning against the bar counter the shotgun in his hands silently looking to see it loaded with two shells.

“No one else needs to get hurt Joel,” Derek calls out sounding closer, “I’m dying to ask for your opinion since you’ve been with my wife. Do you think Y/n will be just as good?” Red takes over his vision as his finger rests on the trigger.

“I mean after I kill you I’ll go show the kid some father love,” He laughs cynically, “Before I then blow her brains out.” Instantly, Joel appears when Derek turns away shooting at his knee. Derek screams falling to the ground and Joel kicks away the shotgun and sends a swift kick to his ribs forcing him on his back.

“Where is she?!” Joel yells and Derek laughs already knowing he’s dead. “Where is she!” He roars.

“She’s dead even if you find her. Every raider wants her head on a spike.” Derek says and there’s a flash of silver as he tries to stab Joel but he easily pulls the trigger killing him right there and then. Emptying the chamber, Joel searches Derek finding a handgun with a few clips, and takes his neck. The patrons hidden in the Tipsy Bison perk up now that the threat was eliminated.

“Barricade yourselves in,” Joel says passing Derek’s shotgun off to one of the people that he’s seen on patrols, “Don’t let anyone that you don’t recognize.” He says before leaving the bar and seeing the chaos happening outside immediately thrown into fighting for his life. He was going to find you even if he was going to die doing it.

You fight at the restraints in the dark pulling with all your strength to try and free yourself. You bite down on the rag and pull your left hand with all your strength feeling the burn and pain as you scream. A sickening pop as your thumb is dislocated immediately swells and hurts as you scream. Sliding your hand free as it fits through the restraint, you reach over to start undoing the other strap. Only a sliver of light comes from outside but it’s past sunset which only makes it darker. With your other hand free you sit up and work at the restraints on your feet, your stomach aches with the still raw burns. The sudden pop that fills the air makes you freeze until you hear screams fill the air. Hopping off the table and feeling around for a light switch the room was bathed in light blinding you for a second. Grabbing the door handle and tugging at the door handle it doesn’t budge as more pops and screams fill the air. Looking around the basement it just looks like storage of random junk of whoever was the previous owner. In the far back, you find an old recurve bow with a quiver of arrows. Slinging the bow and quiver over your shoulder you head to the window high in the air. Pushing the table as it scratches the floor to the window you stand on it undoing the latch, easily breaking the flimsy screen where you slide the bow and quiver through before sliding out afterward. Slinging the quiver your shoulder already nocking an arrow feeling the pain in your thumb holding the bow but you push through. You are between two houses and you follow to where the window to your bedroom should be it is slightly opened and you push it further and you climb inside. You are silent as you leave the room entering the hallway on the first floor, creeping along the walls peering into any open rooms not finding anyone on the first floor but the aftermath of what you assume the raiders preparing their attack. You hear movement upstairs and you freeze aiming your bow at the stairs where you hear the heavy footsteps, a man most likely moves amongst the top floor and you map out where he’s heading. He opens a door and you stare at the ceiling where he would be, he’s in the bathroom. Stalking up the stairs avoiding easily the ones that creak finding yourself at the top landing and you see on the other end of the hallway a man with his back towards you taking a piss with the door wide open. Raising the bow you watch him finish his business zipping up his pants as he turns a rifle slung over his back. His eyes widen as the life leaves him and the arrow goes straight through his eye as he falls back crashing into the toilet. Lowering the bow you move into the path raiding him of any belongings, taking the automatic rifle that you sling over your shoulder, and shoving the multitude of extra clips into your pockets, you take his knife tucking it in your belt and he also has a handgun with only a clip full while taking a thigh holster.

“Hello? Momma? Daddy?” You hear Lila’s voice call out and you rush back to where her bedroom is trying to open the door but it’s locked.

“Lila I need you to do me a favor,” You say, “I need you to go in the closet and cover your ears for me. Don’t come out until I say so.” You hear some shuffling before she calls out again.

“I’m in the closet!” Taking the handgun pressing it as close to the door lock as possible and pulling the trigger. A loud noise fills the room and you step back before sending a harsh kick to the door and it easily flies open. Rushing into the room you open the closet door seeing Lila hidden within the hangers her hands still covering her ears. She rushes into your arms and you hold her tight pulling her back to look over her and she has no injuries besides teary eyes.

“I heard screams…and you have a bunch of ouchies,” She says tearing up and you wipe them away.

“I’m alright Lila but we aren’t safe here we have to go,” You say and you find your pack in her room loading it up with some of her clothes before putting it over your shoulders situating your weapons, the bow over your shoulder and the arrows held from your pack, you hold the rifle in your hands.

“Where are we going?” She asks looking at you in her hands clutching one of her stuffed animals. You weren’t sure where, if Jackson was compromised you didn’t know. You weren’t even sure if the others were alive. You could go back to the cabin to recuperate before heading North. Your original plan when you first met Tommy and Jesse, reach Canada and start fresh there.

“We’re heading to my home,” You say, bending down and holding her cheeks, “I need you to be brave and listen to everything I say you understand.” She nods her head and you press a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay let’s go,” You hold her hand as she follows you as you head down the stairs making sure she doesn’t see in the bathroom before stopping right before the front door. You just needed to get to the stables get Red saddled up and you were out of here. Part of you wanted to try and find the others but the little girl clutching your leg is your priority.

Get to the stables, tack up Red, head to the cabin, and then head north.

You take a deep breath removing the safety of the rifle before opening the door and seeing the empty streets before you, “Come on.” Quickly you head down the street seeing some of the bodies on the street, some are people of Jackson but others you don’t recognize, raiders you have to guess. You hear Lila whimper silently crying.

“Don’t look at them, Lila.” You order and she clutches onto the strap of your backpack as you both continue down the streets. It seemed the more residential areas were deserted or already run through as the number of raiders and Jacksonian people fought towards the main gate. Sticking to the alleys and familiar paths you took to avoid the main street when working at the stables. You’re quick and efficient in taking down raiders before they even react to you and Lila. You press against the half-wall of the market stalls glancing at the stables that were so close. You just need to get there and tack up Red and you’d be good.

“M/n!” A voice calls out your mother’s name and you flinch and you see Lila perk up about to speak but you cover her mouth. She struggles a bit but you hold a finger to your mouth telling her to be quiet and she settles. “We found Derek’s body dumped outside the bar, we still haven’t found Miller yet.” You hear your mother curse.

“Fucking find him already, it’s a small town he can’t hide far.”

“Another thing, we stopped at the house…Issac is dead and your daughters are gone..” The man says and your mother bursts into rage.

“Fucking find that piece of shit and kill her!” She roars and people rush off. Settling down until the loud pop fills the air too close for comfort and a shoot-out ensues. Holding Lila tight to you as her cries muffled in your shirt.

“It’s Miller!” Someone shouts and you perk up. He was near but you didn’t know which one, Maria, Tommy, or Joel. Looking back at the stables seeing an opening with everyone distracted, slinging the rifle over your shoulder before turning to Lila.

“I need you to be extremely quiet and once we get inside go inside Red’s pen and hide in the hay can you do that?” You ask and she nods. You wait for the right timing before scooping her up and running full speed to the stables, and sliding through the gaps in the fences of the dry lot that connects to the stables on the opposite side of the fighting. Finding Red’s stable lifting her over and she drops down into the hay quickly hiding herself among it. Red paces already on edge from the fighting happening around them you hop over the wall into Red’s pen before heading outside the stables grabbing her saddle pad, the saddle, and her reins before rushing into the stall. Red moves impatiently filled with anxiety that you feel as well.

“I’m sorry Red I know this isn’t ideal,” You say throwing the saddle pad over her before quickly adding her saddle your hands shaking with the buckles to fully attach it. Each pop of gunfire only adds more fear to you. With her saddle secure you rip off your pack and strap it on the saddle, sliding the rifle into the holster built into the saddle. Grabbing the reins trying to gently and as fast as possible to get her bridle and bit on Red seems to understand the urgency and cooperates. With her all set you go to grab Lila when you hear someone stumble inside the stables curses coming from a gruff voice.

“Fucking dick,” He curses and you press yourself against the wall hearing an empty magazine fall to the ground and the sound of him fumbling with getting the other in when you strike. You rush up behind him pouncing on his burly back and digging your knife in his shoulder. He cries and slams his head back and you feel your nose crack but hold on. He tries shooting behind him but you keep close to him as you keep stabbing at him. He slams his back on a large pillar making you wheeze in pain but you see your stabs are getting to him as life drains from him. Giving a final stab he falls to his knees blood pooling around his head. Gasping for air to catch your breath when a hand grabs your hair and you scream as they drag you out of the stables.

“I found her!” They yell dragging you through a group of raiders who send glares and look thirsty for blood. You’re thrown to the ground smacked your face to the ground as you are pinned down. There is your mother speckled in blood looking down at you beside you is Joel pinned to the ground it doesn’t look great, blood but you aren’t sure if it’s his or others.

“It didn’t have to end up like this Y/n…if only you listened to your mother.” She says almost with pity and you growl thrashing in the raider's arms.

“You’re not my mother!” You hiss and she comes over kicking your square in your ribs making you cry out.

“Stop it!” Joel yells and she turns her attention to him.

“Oh no, you want to step up as a father?” Your mother spits, “You’re about eighteen years too late.” She turns back to you.

“Where’s Lila?” She demands and you glare at her.

“I’m not letting you hurt her.” You spat and she looked indifferent.

“You think I care about her, she’s just another burden like you were. That’s why I had to get rid of you,” Your eyes widen at her confession, “You were so stupid and willing to be snuck out of the QZ to find your dear mommy some medicine. You were supposed to get infected so we had an excuse to kill you, but you just had to live.” She crouches down and you hear the cocking of her gun as the cool metal presses against your forehead. You see Joel thrashing as he shouts but you don’t even hear it.

“Be glad I gave you the family reunion you were so desperate for,” Her finger rests on the trigger and you’re unsure why you aren’t afraid. Maybe you’ve expected death for a while, whether from something simple or by infected. To be executed by your mother in front of your father wasn’t how you thought it would go.

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

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[katnisspeetaprim]

Father Figure

Lucifer Morningstar/Platonic!TeenReader

Summary: You'd had a hard time in the sort while you'd been alive, so when your new boss shows you kindness like you've never seen, you can't help but be suspicious...

Warnings: Platonic relationship, teenage fem reader, implied drug use, implied sex work, implied underage sex, dead beat parents, assault, swearing, panic attack, crying, angst, fluff A.N; not sure if I will write a part 2 yet, see how this does!

Word Count: 3102 Hazbin M.list

Hell was a scary place for someone like you. Being a teenager in Hell was less than ideal.

Your parents were useless, always too coked out of their minds to care for you, so you left.

Due to your unfortunate circumstances, you had to resort to some... less than kosher means to survive. It was awful, but it’s all you could do.

One night, one of your clients wouldn’t take no for an answer so when you tried to fight back, things went bad for you.

So here you were.

Luckily, under princess Morningstar’s new work programme, all new sinners would be provided with a job to get them started, if they accepted the help that is. And that’s how you came to be the King of hell’s live in maid.

You’d finally found your way to the mansion, after getting lost multiple times. You felt somewhat intimidated as you stood before the large doors. It just now hit you that you’d be working for the devil himself. The thought made your blood run cold. Why would they give such a high profile job to someone like you? Maybe because you wouldn’t be able to cause any trouble? Either way you couldn’t back out now.

Swallowing back your nerves, you raised a hand and knocked on the door.

Almost immediately the door swung open to reveal a short man, who seemed a little too keen to interact with you.

‘Why hello there! Something I can help you with?’... Was he waiting by the door?

‘I uh- I was told to come here to work?’ You handed him your work certificate, and he quickly scanned it over before breaking out into a smile.

‘Wow! I didn’t expect to get someone so soon!’ It was only after Lucifer read the paper, did he properly look at you. His smile faltered slightly.

‘Uh sorry to be blunt, but you look a little... young?’

‘Well I’m 16.’ You laughed nervously. ‘Is that not ok? I promise I’ll be a good worker!’ Lucifer frowned deeply at your sudden panicked rambling.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to die young, but to end up in Hell?

He knew Earth could be a terrible place, but what could you have done at such a young age to end up here.

‘No no! Just me thinking out loud haha.’ Lucifer quickly backtracked. ‘Please come in.’ He moved to allow you to pass by, now smiling again. You entered, realising you were only slightly shorted than him as you passed by.

Maybe working for the Devil wouldn’t be as scary as you thought.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve needed a maid. I hate cleaning!’ He sighed out dramatically.

Over the coming months, you’d settled well into your job. You suppose you had it easy when it came to jobs in Hell. Cleaning was pretty easy.

Lucifer mostly left you to your own devices, thinking you wouldn’t want to hang out with an old man like him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t make an effort with you.

The first time he approached you in the middle of the day, was to gift you a mobile phone.

‘Hey!’ He slid up to you out of nowhere, making you jump out of your skin. ‘Realised you don’t have a phone! Can’t check in if you don’t have one of those!’ You weren’t used to receiving gifts with no strings attached, But Lucifer didn’t seem to have ulterior motives, so you tentatively accepted.

‘Oh! I’ll even give you my daughters number! You two will get on like a house on fire!’

Another encounter was on an evening. Lucifer was finishing up his supper, when he aught sight of you scurrying round the foyer. He called out for you to come over.

‘Have you eaten yet? It’s getting pretty late...’ You couldn’t help but feel touched that he was seemingly looking out for you.

‘I still have a lot to do... I’m a little behind today...’ You trailed off, worried about being scolded for being tardy.

‘Nonsense! Please join me, there’s way too much for just me anyway.’ Lucifer insisted, jumping up and pulling a chair out for you.

‘Are you sure that’s ok?’ You asked, still a little reserved of his kindness.

‘Of course! Always happy for the company.’

Lucifer could read you like a book. He knew you were still nervous and skeptical of him, but he couldn’t blame you. He still didn’t know the circumstances for you to end up in Hell, plus you were so young, it would take a lot to trust.

Even though you worked for him, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel protective of you.

One of the more recent incidents, was when you got hurt.

The house chef was running out of ingredients, so he asked you to run out and grab them. You happily agreed since you didn’t really have any reason to leave the house otherwise.

Ok. Maybe you’d gone a little over bored, you thought as you juggled the heavy bags in your arms.

‘Hey baby! Need some help with those?’ You looked over and saw a group of 3 men leering at you. You smiled nervously and said ‘ No thank you.’ Before turning round, hoping to get away without any trouble.

‘Hey do you know who your talking to? Don’t be rude!’ One of the men grabbed your arm, causing you to drop your bags.

‘Don’t touch me!’ You screamed out, trying to pry your arm from his grip.

‘We were just offering to walk you home lady, but if you want to get down here, that’s fine by us.’ The second man sneered at you with a smirk as he grabbed your face hard.

Your eyes widened at his words. You were now struggling even more, to no avail. The final man cam up behind you and grabbed your other arm in an attempt to keep you still.

‘Stop struggling will ya!’ The man in front of you spat out, shaking you by the arm. He shook you so violently, that the long sleeve of your dress began to rip. You took advantage of this. Pulling your arm back so hard, your sleeve came off in his hand.

The attacker behind you hadn’t been expected you to fall backwards, so he lost his grip on your arm, giving you just enough time to book it in the direction of Lucifer’s home.

You could hear them running and shouting after you, but you didn’t look back. It wasn’t far now. You just had to make it back to the house and you’d be safe.

Bursting through the main doors, you immediately fell to your knees and cradled your head in your hands as you hyperventilated.

‘Y/N!? What the Hell happened?’ Lucifer had heard the slam of the door so he came out to investigate. He hadn’t expected to find you having a panic attack in his entrance hall.

He was kneeling by your side in an instant, placing a comforting hand on your back. As he looked closer at you, he saw that your sleeve was ripped, with a bruise forming round your wrist. When you looked up at him with wide, teary eyes he also clocked some bruises on your jaw.

Lucifer’s eyes immediately darkened.

‘’m sorry I-I lost the groceries...’ You stuttered out with a shaky voice.  Lucifer’s face immediately contorted.

‘Y/N I don’t give a damn about the groceries! I want to know who did this to you.’ Lucifer was aware of how angry he sounded, but he was honestly offended that you thought he cared more about some groceries than you.

You cowered slightly at his raised voice and Lucifer felt bad. He took a deep breath to calm down before speaking again, much more softly this time.

‘Please Y/N, I need to know who did this.’

You looked up to him and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes. You tried your best to get your sobs under control so you could speak.

‘There was a-a group of three rough looking guys not far from here...’ Lucifer groaned internally. He knew exactly who you were talking about.

They were a group that had been causing trouble round the are for a while now, but he never had a good enough reason to get rid of them... Until now.

Lucifer stood and extended a hand to you with a smile. You hesitantly took his hand and he helped you to your feet.

‘Go get cleaned up ok? I gotta go out for a while.’ He ushered you towards your room.

‘Ok...’ You trailed off sadly.

‘Great!’ Lucifer grinned widely at you as he opened a portal. He stepped through before leaning his head back out to address you.

‘And I don’t want to see you doing house work when I get back, kay?’ he tipped his hat before dashing back through. Then the portal closed.

‘Evening gentlemen.’ The three men from earlier swiftly jumped up from their card game, to see Lucifer leaning up against the wall, blocking the exit to the alley. They all immediately shrunk back when they saw it was him.

‘oh your majesty... What brings you to our hideout?’ Lucifer started to slowly walk into the alley, never tearing his eyes away from the men, making them even more on edge.

‘Uh-sir?’

‘So you think it’s fun to assault kid’s huh?’ Lucifer spoke in an eerily calm voice. The men looked at each other, now sweating profusely.  They all immediately tried to deny the accusations, but Lucifer wasn’t having it.

‘Keep your filthy mouths shut!’ His demonic form began manifesting as his anger grew. ‘You dare lay your hands on someone I care about!?’

The men were no longer tough bullies, but now reduced to a quivering mass with their backs to the wall as Lucifer stalked forwards.

A smirk appeared on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the men.

‘What do you say I give a demonstration of how Hell got it’s reputation?’

Screams echoed from the alley. People knew better than to intervene.

Lucifer returned home not much later, making a bee line for your room straight away.

He was about to knock on your door, when he heard faint crying coming from the other side.

He looked down remorsefully. Maybe he shouldn’t have left you alone. He composed himself and knocked. The sobs went quiet and he heard a meek, ‘come in.’

As he entered, he noticed you’d changed from your maid outfit and now wore your pyjamas and dressing gown.

‘Hey Y/N, you feeling any better?’ He came to sit next to you with a comforting smile.

‘I guess so...’ You replied, though the defeated look was still evident on your face.

‘Well golly! I have something to turn that frown upside down!’ You were startled by his sudden energetic proclamation. ‘Ta-da!’ He pulled a small duck from his coat pocket and proudly presented it to you.

You looked over the duck, which had obviously been made to resemble you by giving it some of your features.

As you looked at the little yellow duck, something inside of you snapped. Without warning, you batted the duck from his hand and jumped up in a fury, scowl painted across your face.

‘Why are you acting like you care about me!?’ Lucifer jumped up as if you’d burnt him, his hands out in front of him as a peaceful gesture. He was stunned at your sudden outburst.

‘Y/N, I don’t thi-‘

‘Don’t try and lie to me! Nobody’s ever cared about me!’ You cut him off. You were getting more irate as you broke down into hysterics again.

Lucifer didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words to speak.

When he didn’t answer, it only made you more angry.

‘What do you want from me!?’ You screamed at him, tears flowing down your face. ‘Is it sex? Is that what you want from me, just like everyone else!?’

Lucifer audible gasped at your outburst and took a step back to show he meant no harm.

‘Whoa kid! I don’t want anything from you! Especially not...’ Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to say it. Everything began to fall into place for him now. So that’s what you had to do back on Earth.

He was angry that you accused him of being that disgusting, but not at you. He could never hate you. He was angry that there were people on Earth that thought it was ok to take advantage of a child like that.

You froze in place. The way he was keeping his distance, the way he was making himself look small so as to not intimidate you... Then there was his eyes. They were sad.

They bore into you, as if he were pleading with you to believe him. He wasn’t lying.

Your eyes stung with tears and your face heated up as you looked away, embarrassed by your outburst.

Lucifer wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to spook you, so you needed to make the first move.

You mumbled something under your breath he couldn’t quite hear.

‘I uh, didn’t catch that...’ You squinted your eyes and let out a shaky breath, as if hyping yourself up to repeat what you had said.

You looked him dead in the eye, face hard as you repeated yourself.

��I said I wish I were your daughter! My life would have been so much better.’

Lucifer was gobsmacked. He really hadn’t been expecting that. When he really thought about it he realised he shouldn’t be that surprised at all. He knew you had to have a rough life, and with how welcoming and caring he’d been to you, he should have know something like this would manifest.

The more Lucifer thought it over, the bigger his hear swelled. You thought so highly of him, that you wanted him to be your dad, or fatherly figure at least.

It seemed that Lucifer took a few moments too many to digest this information, as you turned away from him abruptly. He could see you shaking.

‘I’m sorry....’ You whispered.

Lucifer was snapped back to reality by your voice. You were clearly still upset, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading  across his face.

He made his way over to you and gingerly placed a hand on your shoulder, so as to not startle you, but you still flinched at the contact.

‘Y/N... You’ve nothing to be sorry for.’ Lucifer spoke so softly that it took you off guard. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling.

‘It wasn’t till recently that I repaired my relationship with Charlie.’ You were rooted to the spot as you listened intently to what he was saying. ‘ I wasn’t there for a long time, and I truly regret how much time I missed with her.’ Your face was cast down as you hung onto every word.

You felt so stupid bringing this up. He already had a daughter that he loved, so you would just get in the way. Maybe this was his way of letting you down gently.

Lucifer moved to stand next to you, with his arm now across your shoulders. As you looked up to him, you were stunned to see him smiling. You almost passed out at his next words.

‘But maybe I can be there for you.’ More tears started to stream down your face, but this time they were tears of joy. For the first time in a long time, you felt truly happy.

Flinging your arms round his torso, you buried your head into his chest as you clung to him for dear life.

Lucifer happily returned your embrace and lay his head a top yours.

‘I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.’ He soothed as he stroked the top of your head. You pulled back and looked up to him with a slight laugh.

‘You mean I should have died sooner?’ Lucifer cringed and pulled away, playfully throwing his hands up in the air.

‘Well of course it’s gonna sound morbid if you say it like that!’ You both laughed together and you wiped the tears from under your eyes.

Something caught Lucifer’s eye from across the room. It was the small duck he’d previously offered you.

You watched without a word as he retrieved the gift. He stood before you and offered it once again with a wide grin. This time you gratefully accepted.

Cupping your hands round the small toy, you held it up next to your face.

‘Great likeness.’ You joked and Lucifer snorted out in laughter.

‘I’m glad you like it! You know when you knocked it away, I thought you were highly offended with how I portrayed you, so good to know that’s not the case!’ He teased and gae you a thumbs up.

‘Thank you.’

‘Well.’ Lucifer spun round, making his way to the door before pausing to speak over his shoulder. ‘Thanks to todays surprising turn of events, I need to hire a new maid.’ He paused for a moment before turning back round to fully face you. ‘Can’t have my honorary daughter run ragged , now can I?’

Later that night after both of you had taken some much needed time to calm down, Lucifer had made you sit at the dining table, whilst he served you for a change. Once you were both settled, he took the opportunity to press you a little.

‘So did you ever reach out to Charlie like I said a while ago?’ You chuckled nervously and rubbed at the back of your neck.

  ‘I didn’t really think it would be appropriate.’

‘Ah come one now, I was the one who bought it up! Plus I think it would be good for you.’

‘How so?’ You titled your had curiously and Lucifer sank back into his chair with a breathy laugh.

‘Charlie showers literally everyone she meets with love, and she’ll introduce you to loads of new friends.’

‘But-‘ You stopped yourself, really thinking weather or not you should even ask. ‘Will she even want to meet me?’ Lucifer’s face softened into a warm smile. He knew exactly what you were thinking. You were scared that Charlie would want nothing to do with you, considering the way you saw him now.

He sat up and reached over, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

‘I grantee it.’

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

How would you write Natalie?

Every season seems to reimagine Nathalie's character into something totally different, so there are a lot of options to pick from while staying true to canon. I think season three's Nathalie was probably her best look in terms of her role in the narrative, but I'd nix her season three motivation (love of Gabriel) and replace it with the retconned motivation from season five (love of Emilie).

This new version of Nathalie will clearly know everything and be happily helping right from day one. While you could have this be because of romantic love for Emilie, my preference is to keep things platonic. I do this for two reasons.

The first one is simplicity. If your focus is on the teens and not the villains, then you generally want to keep the villains straightforward and easy to understand because they're not going to get a ton of screen time. I'd only go some sort of love triangle or polyamorous setup if Gabriel and Nathalie are a big focus of the plot as that's not the sort of thing you can explain in a few lines. To this day, I'm confused by what canon was doing with Gabriel and Nathalie in season three. Gabriel's motivation is supposed to be his wife, but season three made it seem like he had romantic feelings for Nathalie. It was a really weird choice that undermined his character unless we're supposed to think Gabriel, Nathalie, and Emilie were some sort of triad.

The second reason is that I want canon to be a team show that equally values romantic love and platonic love on the hero side. If we go that route, then the villains should showcase the dark sides of both romantic and platonic love. Gabriel is our source of corrupted, selfish romantic love. Nathalie is our source of corrupted, selfish platonic love. I'd only keep her motivation romantic if you nix the team and keep canon focused on the love square.

The other change I'd make is focused on the peacock. I've already talked about the fact that the sentimonster power is broken as hell, so we're scrapping that. The peacock is getting a new power. What it is isn't actually all that important. What matters is what it means for Nathalie's role. The episode Felix established that Nathalie is a trained fighter, so instead of her sending out sentimonsters, Nathalie is now going into the field as another fighter. She's there to support the akumas and raise the stakes. The peacock will still be broken, so this is still something that doesn't happen right away. It's a mid-game stake raise done when Nathalie realizes that akumas aren't enough.

This is actually the reason I like to keep Kagami around. She's been established to practice multiple combat sports, so I'd give her something more than sword skills and have her be brought in to counter Nathalie and to teach the other heroes how to actually fight now that they're up against a trained fighter. I just love the idea of Kagami's genuine joy when she realizes that her fellow heroes are basically bulletproof and she can go full out on them. Ladynoir bonding over their mutual fear of their new brutal trainer is a fantastic way to build up their relationship. It's one of the may ways to build out the team without diluting their relationship.

This also gives Kagami a unique role in the team, something that is desperately needed. Every member of the team should be there for a reason, ideally one that goes beyond their powers. It even takes her bossiness and makes it a strength! Canon made her pushing Adrien around a purely negative trait added to show that she's not Adrien's True Love and I'm not a fan of that. Bossy girls get enough flack in the real world without supposed girl power shows adding to that nonsense. At the very least, Kagami's bossiness should be a strength and a weakness. It should not be a pure weakness that seems to magically go away when Felix shows up.

[unifycurlyfry]

Why do I ship Soudabuki?: A very long jumbled ramble 🎸⚙️

Well, like anyone else, I ship them because I think they’re perfect for each other.

One of my favorite things about Soudabuki is the fact they didn’t have interest in each other at first. Hell, In Kazuichi’s relationship chart Ibuki’s section says “Not interested!” And obviously, Kazuichi had his eyes so on Sonia he wouldn’t even consider anything else. They didn’t think of each other in any specific way. They had pretty little interaction in the game, so exploring their dynamic is more so taking their individual personalities and backstories and clashing them together to see how they’d interact. In my belief, soudabuki does not start thinking of each other romantically until post-canon. Hell, even platonically. I mean, they got along well enough in the game, but they weren’t “best friends.” I think as they’re grieving and processing everything post-canon, they find out that their backstories are so similar and how they process things and who they are as people go together well and they’re surprised at how well they understand each other. So they slowly start having more deep talks together, become friends, and then eveerrr so slowly these feelings crawl in; short and simple at first until it turns into a full blown, out of nowhere crush

I like the concept of Kazuichi being “uncomfortable” by Ibuki because he won’t admit it even in his own head that she is everything he wants to be.

His wary of her stems from jealousy, it so does. Because Kazuichi spent his whole life being something he’s not and constantly trying to cater to other’s beliefs of what he should be and shouldn’t be. He got picked and teased for the things he loved most, his mechanics, and his looks. He changed himself to appeal to others, not for himself. Everything he does is to be a people pleaser or prove a point to himself. He is constantly desperate to be useful and to be good. He wants to be that cool guy people like and can rely on. He gets upset and shuts himself out when something he says or does prove otherwise.

But, Ibuki doesn’t have that issue, at least not anymore. She’s her true self, and she’s proudly herself no matter what people have said about her. She says she got a lot of comments from people too, just like him, but she went about it the exact opposite way from him; instead of taking it and shelling up in herself, she became who she truly wanted to be and is unapologetically herself. She’s happy with her hair, her piercings, her music, everything some people don’t like.

And I think Kazuichi takes this as some sort of attack. It’s uncomfortable looking at what is frankly a mirror of your ideal self in someone else. She’s like him, and that makes him uncomfortable, because everything he tries to bottle, she opens up. She makes him face everything he was trying to avoid. Which is why one of my fav parts about soudabuki is Ibuki cracking open his shell, and them being their loud energetic selves together. She understands him. And he understands her. Ibuki mentions having been in a band that was not her style and so she left. They didn’t understand the music she wanted to do.

I think this was mentioned somewhere too that I cannot exactly remember, but people were kind of scared of her. She’s flashy and loud. She makes music people deem as “scary.” Ibuki, in her own way, is also an outcast. They find comfort in being “outcasts” together. Their backstories are so similar in that sense, of changing your looks and who you are because people didn’t accept you. They’d make each other less scared of the confusing aspect of change. Ibuki, despite being her loud extrovert self, is so desperate for people to like her; like what she does. If you click on her cabin after her death, it is a jumbled mess of saying something along the lines of “please just listen to one song!” They’re SO similar it drives me nuts. Them figuring that fact out is so. God. I think once Kazuichi starts to understand Ibuki better, and the fact she is like him, he takes more of a liking to her music or at least supports it. Let’s be real, the entire cast of SDR2 apart from Hiyoko was a little rude to her and her passion, lmfao.

Ibuki’s there every step of the way as Kazuichi figures himself out and is so overwhelmingly supportive, that he’s a little less scared every step. She supports him as he wants to bring elements of his “nerdy look back.” She supports him as he wants to get more piercings. She supports him as he starts to get more confident. And vice versa. He supports her as she’s questioning what type of music she wants to do, he supports her as she’s becoming more comfortable in not being so happy and energetic all the time, he supports her in all her different styles.

While this is relatable to many of the characters in the cast, I do think of a deep conversation between them both about remembering being remnants and using what they love most for awful doings. Kazuichi finally fulfilled his dream of building a rocket, but it was used to kill. Ibuki finally fulfilled her dream of playing music on stage to a huge crowd of people, but it was used for despair. I’ve thought of them gently holding hands and Kazuichi chuckles crudely, mumbling something about “We’re both terrible people finding comfort in our own terribleness, huh?” And they laugh, despite it all. It’s a melancholic laugh.

Before anything, they are best friends. They become really good friends before thinking of romance. I’ve often described them as “Best friends who kiss.” Moving on to how they’d act as a couple, their love languages match so well.

Kaz likes receiving physical affection and words of affirmation the most. His least favorite is acts of service.Ibuki likes receiving quality time and physical affection the most. Her least favorite is words of affirmation.

Ibuki is a very physically affectionate person. She's always latching onto Kaz and touching him in some sort of way even if it’s just tapping him on the arm repeatedly as a fidget thing, grabbing his cheeks and peppering him in kisses and sudden hugs and holding his hand while bouncing up and down. Plus cuddling is one of her favorite things ever. Even just to friends she’s always touching them.

She’s a big believer in quality time. I believe their relationship is very lax, as in they don’t get upset when they’re spending more time with the others than each other for a couple of days; Kaz and Ibuki likes to run off and do whatever separately a lot, but the moments where they’re spending time together just the two of them laughing their lungs out or having deep talks or doing shenanigans all mean a lot to her, or rather to both of them. Laughing is also her love language. She’s giggling in every situation and her giggles are almost just her saying “I love you.”

She also feeds off the feeling of Kaz being in love with her if that makes any sense; like the feeling of him being flustered and happy and blushy rubs off on her. Hence why, for example, she sexually pleasures Kaz more than the vice versa, and why she’s perfectly okay and loves being the one that guides them in stages of their relationship most of the time. Individuality is like her entire thing and I think that she doesn’t feel any loss of her individuality paired with Kaz.

Kazuichi really likes giving gifts. Hell, making things is his whole thing. Ibuki does not show her love with gifts and is a terrible gift giver, but boy does Kaz express lots of love by gifts and she loves every single one of them. I think she’s one of those people who puts extreme sentimental value on everything, and so every ring he has made her is kept pristinely clean and organized and the purple flower he spotted and held up to her hair and said “it matches your hair” is long since dead yet still in her drawer. She loves everything she gets and never takes it for granted or throws it to the side.

Kazuichi is someone that needs a lot of reassurance. He’d be that meme where it’s like waking up the partner in the middle of the night and going “do you like like me?” and the partner responds back with “we’ve been dating for five years,” haha. He needs someone who is not annoyed by that fact, and I cannot see Ibuki ever getting annoyed or off-put by it. She is more than happy to give it to him. So while he refuses it, words of affirmation are important to keep Kaz knowing he’s loved. He gets blushy and embarrassed, but so so giddy. On the other hand, if Kaz ever tried to say some of the things Ibuki says to him, she’d fake a gag and/or laugh in his face. To say she never enjoys a little sap though sometimes would be a lie.

They’re a very physical affectionate couple and they both thrive off of it. Ibuki jumping on him and peppering his skin in kisses all over, holding hands, cuddling every night, having sexual intimacy fairly often, their knees touching as they’re sitting, a hand on a shoulder, etc. Ibuki is a loud and proud “toucher” and Kazuichi is a flustered mess “toucher,” but gets more used to it and confident over time. He went from never wanting to engage in PDA to liking it.

“Acts of service” is not too relevant in their relationship. Kazuichi mostly doesn’t care to receive it, as he’s pretty stingy on who touches the things he is working on and gets extremely in the zone when he is working. Ibuki doesn’t have many things he could even service her towards besides always being willing to fix a speaker or guitar. They both are… kind of slobs. If it weren’t for TeruTeru, they’d be eating junk food always and if it weren’t for others on the island their cabins would be a mess. An organized mess, but a mess.

I think they’d have a lot of fun together. While the other members of the cast would need to take some convincing to whatever shenanigan they want to pull that day, they would jump on it right away with each other. It often leads to cartoonish disasters. It would be funny for other people in the cast to be like “Oh my god what are Kazuichi and Ibuki doing today.”

There is so much laughing between the two. So, so much. Laughing is their main love language. Stupid jokes, playing pranks, laughing over stupid faces or over nothing. Ibuki finds Kazuichi very entertaining, especially. She teases him and plays with him all out of love. At first, Kazuichi took some offense to her giggling all the time in certain scenarios, but once he understood that was the way she showed love, he loved it and understood it.

They pick up so many new hobbies together. Kazuichi makes Ibuki a motorcycle, and she loves it and forces Kazuichi to ride it with her, but unfortunately his motion sickness makes it not a very good experience. As a solution, Kazucihi makes them skateboards. And they have so much fun with failing and trying new tricks and riding around. They would try anything and everything. Kazuichi picks up art, and Ibuki does it with him despite being terrible and not really having the drive to get actually good at it. But creating little characters together heals their inner children. I think Kazuichi actually became the tattoo artist and piercer of the island. He has a very steady hand due to his mechanic work and he already had some art skill building blueprints, so it’s not a far-fetched hobby for him. Ibuki gets so many tattoos and piercings by him.

They’re both, uh, a little perverted. They were bonding over their lustful thoughts and comments over the girls in bikinis in that one scene. I’ve always said Ibuki is more perverted than him, just not shown quite as much since she didn’t have someone she had her eyes on in the game. So in that sense, they’re perfect for each other because I think anyone else would not… appreciate such comments as much or like it as much. Don’t get me wrong, I think Kazuichi “fixes” himself post-canon, understanding that the things he said to Sonia and that whole obsession was wrong. Like said before, he just wants to be a good guy, and I think understanding that he was being a creep would lowkey devastate him and he’d obviously stop. But still. They’re two horny people put together.

This is a more silly reason, but I’ve tended to not ship Kazuichi as much with men just because I think being with a woman is… good for him? Lmfao? That sounds silly but I wouldn’t want to put him with a man as a solution to his accidental-misogynistic comments. Not to say Ibuki “fixes” that aspect of him because she doesn’t, it’s a thing he has to improve on his own. Also I like soudam and sounidai, so It’s not like I’m against that at all.

They both find each other attractive. Ibuki starts to notice the little crinkle in his nose when he snorts/laughs (which she loves the sound of), the ponytail he puts in more post-canon is something she’s into on him, she canonically likes the look of him in his cute glasses, he has a perfect amount of muscles in his arms, his firm torso, his big hands. Once Kazuichi starts seeing Ibuki in a romantic light, he doesn’t know how he didn’t notice how drop dead gorgeous she was. It makes him breathless. Her short hair post-canon is cute on her, her whole face expresses her joy and it’s so pretty, her skin is soft, her outfits are awesome, the different dyes in her hair are sick and admirable, and her eyes are big and colorful. Her body is perfect. Often, Ibuki gets cuteness aggression from him at random times, and she just needs to jump on him and give him so much love. Normally when Kazuichi gets those random moments of “cuteness aggression” (more just being stunned by her beauty and her everything) he just stands there mouth agape.

Kazuichi is not the best at comforting, but it’s perfect for Ibuki. Post-canon, she has more quiet sad days. The last thing she needs is advice, or therapy talk, or pity. She just needs someone there. And Kazuichi being pretty bad with words is in fact a blessing in this case. He holds her and cracks lame jokes that make her giggle through her sniffling. He calms her down by rubbing her back or arm. He allows her to use his tank top as a tissue. In Kazuichi’s case, Ibuki sweet talks him when he’s all weepy and upset. Kazuichi feels comfortable expressing his complete vulnerability to her and Ibuki gives him little head kisses as she softly “baby talks” him or just sweetly says things that make him happy. Again, if Kazuichi did this to her, she’d hate it, but Ibuki loves doing it to Kazuichi. There’s no embarrassment in it. She says very mushy gross things and she makes him know not to be embarrassed of needing it.

I think there is this thought that Ibuki would find anything romance cringy and unenjoyable when I don’t believe that to be the case. I think they’d have a lot of fun figuring out what they could do for dates around the island, she likes being gently woke up in the morning with arms around her and kisses on her shoulder with mumblings about how she is beautiful, she likes kissing and cuddling (a lot), the little metal flowers Kazuichi makes for her makes her smile when she walks past them. She would however hate the stuff like, candlelight dinner or rose petals on the bed. Thankfully, Kazuichi wouldn’t enjoy that stuff so much either.

I talk a lot about Kazuichi being all nervous and shy but Ibuki has those rare moments too. His compliments normally go “your hair is cool” with her responding, “hell yeah it is!!” and “your new tattoo is sweet” “i know right?!!” but ever so often he says something like “your smile makes me so happy…” with so much sincerity and affection in his voice and eyes that Ibuki’s face becomes pink and she lifts the two front strands of her hair to her face as she looks to the side and giggles and squeals. And when Kazuichi either 1. points it out shyly 2. jokingly makes fun of her for it it just makes her redder as she hides in her hair and keeps giggling and kicking her feet.

I said this before, but they’re still their individual selves with each other and that makes especially Ibuki thrive. If Ibuki felt like she was losing herself in a relationship she’d be out of there ASAP.

Ibuki refuses to let Kazuichi shut himself out. Which was annoying to him, at first. Whenever Kazuichi gets upset he tends to just completely walk away from the conversation and go hole himself in his cabin as shown in the game multiple times, which isn’t good for him. He can’t keep running. He needs to express what makes him upset and why. He needs to let himself get close to people. Ibuki is always there. She makes him open up whether he likes it or not. He becomes less annoyed by this and realizes how much she has helped. I like that in the Kazuichi manga, Ibuki is the one to knock on his door and check up on him multiple times. Kazuichi shooed her away mostly. He’s stupid.

Kazuichi becomes a drummer which makes Ibuki ecstatic. He was averse to it at first, but when he tried it, it was like something awakened in him and he understood. He gets into it pretty quickly. And once he decides he wants to get good at something, he will not stop. He is constantly on those things for a couple weeks; Ibuki having to pull him by the ear to get him to sleep. She gets it though, because Kazuichi has had to be the one to pull her ear on multiple occasions when she gets lost in her music or skating or anything else. He releases all his pent up anger on those things and I think that makes him understand her loud music a whole lot better to the point of enjoyment towards it. They have a lot of fun cooking up whatever in that studio. He builds her a good music station, by the way.

Speaking of having fun together, I think they both teach each other how to have fun when there is no point in it. As in, Ibuki wants to show people her music. Kazuichi has always built things solely for other people. When they’re on this island, aside from Kazuichi’s work, there is no point in doing the things they do. They have to re-learn to love what they already did. And they do so together. Kazuichi learns how to have fun without the basis that he’s fixing something for someone. Ibuki learns how to have fun without the basis of showing other people. They do it because they love it and only because they love it. I mean, I do believe that after a few years, a lot of the cast does work for Future Foundation and they have to go to the mainland for various missions though.

Their relationship is not one of jealousy. I think the entire cast has a bond that toes the line between what platonic and romantic means, so being jealous would be stupid. Kazuichi gets a bit more jealous than her in a situation where a Future Foundation member flirts with her, but other than that on the island, their relationship is chill. They can go days of not having time just for the two of them and not be phased. They love their best friends. They cuddle and sometimes kiss their best friends. I’ve joked before that soudabuki is a dynamic where they both understand they have small baby crushes on other people and tease each other about it. Kazuichi being all giddy and excited to hang out with Hajime and Ibuki teasing him like a first grader about it. Ibuki outwardly says she'd jump Peko’s bones if she had the chance. They get it and it’s mutual, lmfao.

I won’t go into detail here but their sex is very understanding and comfortable and vulnerable. And also very silly. The things they say during it are very cringy to anyone else. It’s fun.

I like imagining cute scenarios with them. Them making out behind the beach house, fighting over the blanket in bed, cuddling and snoozing together, falling asleep in the bath together, giggling in the shower, doing their random hobbies together, pulling pranks on their friends, Kazuichi picking her up and her squealing. Many, many others.

And of course, they have the dynamic of “girlboss x flustered guy who’s madly in love with her,” but I tend to stray away from describing them as such cause it makes their dynamic feel so surface level when it is not (I just spent 6 pages rambling why they’re good together so, LMfao.) But it is true. I like Kazuichi being like a dog and following her around like a lost puppy. His face becomes so red as she teases him and calls him cute. He’s scared to touch her and gets so flustered and embarrassed. Ibuki finds it entertaining and charming.

The way I think they get together is cute. It doesn’t involve an actual confession. They were on the beach, doing various things like making sand castles and splashing and running around and eventually they collapsed on the sand laughing and Ibuki was laying on his chest. The giggling dies down and the air just gets tense, and they’re looking at each other, and then they’re softly kissing. Their teeth clack a bit due to Ibuki smiling so brightly, but it was a sweet kiss. Once they part after 2 or 3 more kisses, Ibuki starts giggling again and lays her head on his chest whilst Kazuichi is looking at the sky completely awestruck. They don’t address it because Ibuki kissed him as if it was the most natural thing ever that they have been doing for a while, and Kazuichi can barely get sleep because the kiss keeps coming up in his mind and he stuffs his face into his pillow, face red and his heart going crazy. He eventually cannot take it anymore and goes on a huge sudden ramble when they were hanging out in her cabin, like, “So, what are we? I-I mean, like, you know. Um. We kissed. Which was okay! Good, even, I liked it! Um… but do you, do you l-like me? Ah… I don’t know….” and Ibuki has to shut him up as she tilts her head and is like “I thought we were dating?” and Kazuichi just has to process that and he blinks at her. They start fighting over the fact that this was never a thing that was established and they’re both blushing (more on Kazuichi’s side, he’s a flustered mess in this moment) and they keep going back and forth bickering about this until it just gets funny and they solidify what their relationship is there.

Plus, Ibuki had been so obviously in love with him and expressing that loudly long before that moment, he is just oblivious. She would run up and wrap her arms around his shoulders tightly and squeal “I love Kazu-chan!” and snuggle into his neck and he just thought it was her being her. In his defense, she is a very loud lover to everybody. It is hard to differentiate it.

They piss each other off a lot, lovingly. It’s one of my favorite aspects about them. They’re both very competitive people so playing something like Mario Kart with them is a loud debacle. Ibuki pisses him off on purpose by small things like flicking his nose to see his reaction. They get into long stupid talks about a hypothetical question and fight over it for like two hours. If you know what the “if your leg gets cut off” meme is, that is exactly how they talk to each other. They share a brain cell and that is love.

In conclusion Kazuichi and Ibuki are in love and they kiss each other and have a very fun time. They’re so perfect for each other that it surprises me they’re a rarer pair honestly! I don’t mind though, shipping a rarepair is super fun. It makes getting content with them and getting people to like them so much more exciting. All I wish is to spread the amount of joy soudabuki gives me on the daily. Shipping them is so fun because they’re so stupid. They’re a very silly pairing.

Also, while I enjoy other ships with them, they are my main pairing. I’m not a big poly shipper in my post-canon, and so like, the others are either taken or not my favorite. Hajime is with Nagito, Peko is with Fuyuhiko, Sonia is with Gundham. Bandaid is a cute ship and I enjoy the content of it but it never really latched onto me. Sounidai is super cute too but again doesn’t connect with me on a super personal level. And again, my post-canon cast is all basically one big queer platonic relationship, so people being in a relationship is not this huge divide between platonic and romantic.

thank you for reading!! 💜💚

[bloody-cupcakes]

i loved your platonic tenth doctor fic sm 💞 would you ever consider doing a pt.2? maybe with the reader sort of figuring out what’s up and trying to get back on their own

I would love to do a part two, I'm so happy to hear you liked it! (Part one is here for anyone who wants to read it first)

Platonic! yandere/dark! Tenth Doctor x teen reader; you discover he's purposely keeping you from leaving

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, the Doctor has possessive tendencies due to seeing the reader as his child, not technically kidnapping but the Doctor goes to great lengths to make sure the reader won't/can't leave so there's that

After your conversation with the Doctor about returning home to earth, you went to your room on the TARDIS and began packing. Part of you felt bad for possibly hurting his feelings (after all, you were currently his only companion, and while you didn't get the whole story you knew he had others before you that met less than ideal fates) but you couldn't just stay with him forever. You knew you had to go back home eventually.

The next day when you found him, he was fiddling with the control panel and humming cheerfully to himself. It was as if you'd never even spoken about leaving the day before.

"Um, Doctor?"

He looked up immediately when he heard your voice, a bright smile covering his face. "Ah, there you are! I was just waiting for you before I put the coordinates in for our next adventure. Are you ready to go?"

You made a visible face of confusion at his words. Next adventure? What was that supposed to mean?

"No, Doctor, I'm not. I already told you, I have to go home now."

His right eye twitched slightly with irritation as you mentioned that word again- "home". It wasn't fair that you kept talking about it as if your time with him didn't matter. I mean, he didn't even have a home to go back to, and he was perfectly fine. He learned how to become a well adjusted Time Lord after some time he assured himself while lying.

"Yeah, yeah. I know that." He waved his hand dismissively as if it was no big deal. "I just figured you'd want to go on one last trip before you had to leave. You know, just to cap off everything."

The exhaustion still in your body was screaming at you to say no, but he looked so hopeful as he stared at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes that you ended up saying yes despite yourself.

"You know what? Sure, why not. One last trip, to commemorate our time together."

The Doctor beamed with joy at your words, estatic that he was able to make you relent so quickly. "Great! Now, let's be off, then. Allonsy!"

It would just be one quick trip, you thought to yourself as the TARDIS started up, prepared to take you wherever you decided to go. It wouldn't take too long, and them he'd take you back home as soon as you were done.

So sure that you were right, you didn't even bother to keep track of the amount of time the two of you spent adventuring that day, which meant the Doctor was able to keep suggesting more and more things for you to do on your "last day" without any fuss. By the time you finally made it back to the TARDIS, you were exhausted, heading straight to bed without any more mentions of returning home for the time being.

The Time Lord was beside himself with delight as he realized his plan on keeping you too busy and tired to even think about leaving was beginning to work. He kept at it day after day, insisting that you just needed one more adventure to top it all off, just one extra trip. And because you didn't want to upset him by declining, you said yes to every single one.

This all came to a head the day he momentarily put his plan on pause due to the TARDIS needing repairs. It had been beeping nonstop at him for the past four days, and he'd finally had enough. He parked the TARDIS and told you to stay put, not that you had the energy to go anywhere.

While he was out for supplies, you finally got the chance to relax somewhat. Deciding to spoil yourself with this newfound free time, you took a long bath and put on your comfiest clothes before settling yourself in one of the several armchairs adorning the TARDIS library. You were just about to pick up something to read when the TARDIS started beeping again.

"I know you need repairs, he'll be back soon, don't worry," you tried to reassure it, but it simply ignored you and continued on.

Letting out a somewhat exasperated sigh, you set down your book and got up, making your way to the control room. "What seems to be the problem here?"

The TARDIS made a chirping sound as it brought up the coordinates that would take you back to the time and place of your home on earth.

You frowned in confusion, your brow furrowing as you studied the screen. The Doctor had been complaining about how it had been malfunctioning lately, so it's possible that what the screen was currently displaying could mean nothing.

In reality it had actually been scolding him for keeping you from your family on earth, but of course he ignored it, meaning it decided to take drastic measures in order to help get you back home.

"Yeah, that's my home. What about it?"

Something that sounded like a huff of annoyance came from the control panel. What its next few beeps meant you couldn't know for sure, but you were almost positive it had called you stupid.

"Hey, I'm doing my best here! I'm not a Time Lord, how would I know what you want?"

You could practically feel the way it was rolling its eyes at you before pulling up all the other places you'd been to recently. The log dated that they'd all been auto-saved on the same day, the day you told the Doctor you wanted to go back home.

A chill went down your spine as you realized he'd planned this out all ahead of time, knowing you'd be far too exhausted to argue if he kept taking you on one trip after another.

"Wait, why are you showing me this? What does this all mean?"

The TARDIS let out a few more beeps as it showed you the coordinates for earth again. It seemed to be trying to tell you something, but it was hard to know what it was exactly.

"Are you... are you trying to say that I should make my way back home, all by myself? Without the Doctor?"

The affirmative chattering of beeps and boops that came next told you the answer was yes. Now that you thought about it, the TARDIS seemed to be working perfectly fine, bringing you to the conclusion it had lied to the Doctor on purpose in order to help you.

"That's great and all, but I don't know how to manage these controls. I'd probably cause us to crash before we ever got there." You rolled your eyes at the noises it made in response. "Yes, I realize the Doctor crashes you all the time, and no, I don't want to take that risk. At least he knows how to fix you afterwards."

Your argument was cut short by a series of anxious beeps, the TARDIS frantically trying to warn you of the Doctor returning. You could hear him cursing from the outside as he tried to get in through the doors, the TARDIS having apparently locked him out.

"I can't fly you. I don't even know how to work all these buttons and knobs on your control panel." The sad and dejected boop it let out made you give it a look of sympathy. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to get home some other way."

The doors finally opened, the Doctor nearly falling over as he entered. "Ah, there you are! I was just about to look for you. We should be ready to leave for our next trip once I've fixed whatever's wrong with the controls."

The TARDIS made an offended noise at the implication that there was something wrong with it, which both you and the Doctor ignored.

"Actually, I was wondering when you were going to take me back home."

The grin on his face immediately dropped at you words. "Home? You want to go home now?"

You hesitated briefly, not exactly sure what to think after the recent discoveries you'd made involving him trying to keep you from leaving. Surely he wouldn't do anything to actually hurt you, but you decided to tread carefully regardless.

"Well, yeah. I miss my family, and I'm sure they must be missing me. And I can always come back to travel with you again, you know." You added the last bit in hopes of easing the apparent pain of him losing you.

"But I'm your family now," he insisted in an almost pleading manner, gesturing to the inside of the machine. "This is your home. I don't understand why you'd ever want to leave any of this."

The Doctor shot the control panel a dirty look when it made a noise that sounded like sarcastic muttering. "Besides, I can offer so much more than they can. Can they take you anywhere in time and space? I don't think so."

"I'm not your family, Doctor," you blurted out in a desperate attempt to get him to see reason. "I'm not. I'm not your kid, and this isn't my home. I need to get back to my real home with my real family."

He turned away from you, resting his hands on the control panel so he wouldn't fall over from shock. His hands gripped onto the side of it so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Doctor...?" You questioned gently, starting to feel bad for what you'd said. "Are you alright?"

Shaking his head, he responded in a quiet voice. "No, I'm not." He sighed as he leaned over the controls. "You're right, I'm not your family."

You felt a tiny bit of hope bloom within you despite yourself, hope that maybe, just maybe he was starting to see reason.

"So, does this mean-" You began eagerly before he suddenly cut you off.

"But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you leave, just like that." He turned back towards you, his face hardened as he gave you a look of determination. "Maybe I'm not your family yet, but I will be. And this will be your home, whether you like it or not."

A shiver of fear went down your spine at his firm declaration, causing you to realize you'd made a severe judgment in error when you decided to tell him you weren't family. It was at this point that you were beginning to wish you'd listened to the TARDIS when it told you to run while you still had the chance.

[g0dwat3rwritings]

Can i request for any twisted wonderland characters that's fit x reader who don't know how to cook

yeah, of course!

Some of these characters have shorter parts because I added every character in the game, minus side characters such as (Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker (Che'nya), Rollo Flamme, et cetera)

Also! If there are any inadequacies with grammar, I apologize, I'm at a friend's house while i'm writing this and I'm very easily distracted.

If it's not obvious, I'm a sucker for soft Sebek

Ortho is strictly platonic!

And Reader can be viewed as either Yuu or not!

@nisobird because there's Azul

Warnings ;; None

Relationship ;; Romantic

Type ;; Headcanons

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts ;; Heartslabyul Housewarden ;; Second Year

Riddle's world comes crashing down, in all honesty.

The boy was raised with the ideal that a partner is supposed to be at least a decent cook, but you are the exact opposite.

He will eat your food only to be nice.

Even though he can't cook all that well himself, he'll try to suggest ways to make it better even though none of his suggestions really, truly help the awfulness of your cooking.

Let's just hope you don't end up cooking for his mother.

Trey Clover ;; Heartslabyul Vice-Housewarden ;; Third Year

Trey is quite literally the sunshine to your moonlight, your sky to your ground.

You two are total, clear opposites.

He can cook almost anything without flaw, especially pastries and sweets.

He will panic if he ever sees you in the kitchen, trying to cook something.

He'll subtly take over for you, slowly taking more and more control of the kitchen.

Cater Diamond ;; Heartslabyul ;; Third Year

Cater would not care one single bit.

He is taking so, so many photos and posting them on Magicam, he does not give two shits whether it looks amazing, or absolutely terrible.

He will post it, specifically because you're his partner, you're his significant other.

And yes, he will shove it down his throat even if he needs to vomit it up later.

Ace Trappola ;; Heartslabyul ;; First Year

Ace can't cook, not one bit.

He's also very weird about his tastes.

He'll eat pickles and ice cream but he probably won't eat a single slice of cheese.

He'll eat anything you make at all whatsoever, unless there's cheese. (I headcanon he absolutely hates cheese, don't ask why)

He'll watch you cook and won't even interfere.

He does notice how bad your cooking is but he won't say or do anything about it because he genuinely does not care.

He'll even tell you it's actually good

Deuce Spade ;; Heartslabyul ;; First Year

Deuce doesn't even notice how bad it is, and if he did, he wouldn't even care.

He'll anything and everything, minus bell peppers.

He cannot, and will not, eat bell peppers.

He hates the taste, the texture, everything about bell peppers is everything he hates in all of Twisted Wonderland.

He tends to not watch you cook and has no reason for it.

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar ;; Savanaclaw Housewarden ;; Third Year

Leona's not exactly shameless when it comes to meats, despite any sort of meat being among his absolute favorite foods.

He's not very picky about meats though. Just as long as it's cooked decently, and seasoned alright, he's fine.

Despite being a literal prince, he does not have a prince's palette.

He'll literally eat raw meat if it suits his needs

Of course, that's mostly because of the lion beastman part of him

Ruggie Bucchi ;; Savanaclaw ;; Second Year

Ruggie is literally shameless, make him anything and he'll eat it.

Just as long as it's not rotten, he'll eat quite literally anything.

He's not the greatest cook, but he'll help in any way he possibly can.

He'll most definitely bring your food to the kids in his neighborhood, no matter how terrible it is.

He wants to make sure they're fed, and he's happy when you're willing to cook.

He never tells you if he genuinely thinks you're food is bad, he'll end up feeling terrible and he knows that so he won't say a thing about your cooking.

Unless it's any sort of praise.

Jack Howl ;; Savanaclaw ;; First Year

Jack isn't entirely picky, but he's not the biggest fan of your cooking.

Being who he is, he'll feel bad for even thinking that your food is bad.

Also being the honest man he is, he'll sadly point it out to you, admitting his wrongdoing.

He's a big sweetheart, so he'll try to be as kind to you as he can, no matter how you end up reacting.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto ;; Octavinelle Housewarden ;; Second Year

Given that Azul grew up with his mother owning a restaurant, and he himself owning a restaurant, he's a bit... iffy over your cooking skills.

Of course, he'll always be nice when he brings it up. You're his significant other after all.

He'll point it out and he may give you some of his mom's recipes to help you follow along.

He helps you cook much more than he used to, letting you have most of the control, but he will come in if he sees you do something wrong.

Jade Leech ;; Octavinelle Vice-Housewarden ;; Second Year

Jade finds you and your cooking very, very entertaining.

He doesn't ever actually help you unless he finds you cooking mushrooms and.... screwing them up.

After that, he's immediately on your case and helping you cook.

Within the next two or three weeks, you're an absolute master chef.

Especially with mushrooms. By time Jade is done with you, you're more than likely a better chef when it comes to mushrooms than he is.

Floyd Leech ;; Octavinelle ;; Second Year

Floyd thinks you are the most entertaining human he's ever met.

Like some other people, he doesn't think your food is bad, just that it's so unbelievably entertaining and unique.

He actually doesn't try to help your cooking or change it or buy you anything new.

He simply watches the chaos of your cooking unfold, while occasionally adding his own, odd concoction to the mix.

And he will eat your food, no matter what you put on his plate, or what you put in the odd concoction you call your cooking.

Just don't add any shiitake mushrooms, he begs of you.

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim ;; Scarabia Housewarden ;; Second Year

Kalim more than likely trusts you enough to not have Jamil test the food you give him.

The only way Jamil would let Kalim eat your food is if Jamil himself trusted you.

So, if Jamil trusted you, Kalim would more than happily eat your food himself.

He probably wouldn't care if your food was the best food in the whole of Twisted Wonderland, or if your food is the worst thing in all of Twisted Wonderland.

He'll eat it happily and won't complain one bit.

Jamil Viper ;; Scarabia Vice-Housewarden ;; Second Year

Jamil, if he truly trusts you, will eat small bits of your food and will help you cook every single time you step in a kitchen.

He won't completely take over like Trey would, but he will guide you in every single way, subtle or not.

Once you get better and better, he'll eat your food more and more.

He'll take over for you at any time and finish the cooking for you, if that's what you'd like, all you'd have to do is say the word.

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit ;; Pomefiore Housewarden ;; Third Year

You're going to make the Vil Schoenheit break out. And that's a feat, especially considering his rigorous skincare routine.

He won't eat any of your food, and he will flat-out tell you, in a relatively nice tone of voice, that your food is not exactly good.

If he realizes that it hurts you, he'll try to find ways for your cooking to taste relatively better, whether it be buying you new utensils, or buying you cookbooks or any other things like that.

He promises you that he never meant to hurt you, he just wants to... help.

Rook Hunt ;; Pomefiore Vice-Housewarden ;; Third Year

Oh, Rook does not care. He genuinely thinks that your cooking is beautiful and wonderful in every single way possible.

He will eat your food and compliment you even if you put whole-ass children's toys in your food.

He'll buy you whatever you need for your cooking without you even need to ask him, he's kind of a freak like that.

Epel Felmier ;; Pomefiore ;; First Year

Epel is very in the middle, he's fine with your bad cooking just.... don't make him eat it because he will act like a toddler having to eat vegetables.

Or, that's what he says he won't do.

He says he'll be all manly and eat it like a man, but you know for a fact that he won't and he will act like a little kid.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud ;; Ignihyde Housewarden ;; Third Year

Idia barely eats as it is, so when you bring him food, his hair will immediately turn pink and he'll try to hide his face by tightening his hood over his head.

He won't care whether it's bad or good, he'll only care about the fact that you actually... brought him food.

Of course, Ortho does so all the time, but it's different when your significant other brings you a whole meal because they don't want you to starve.

Once again, he doesn't care whether it's good or bad, he'll shove it down his throat either way.

Ortho Shroud ;; Ignihyde ;; First Year

Ortho can't exactly eat, given that he's both a robot and a machine.

But he'll look up recipes and help you cook and help you get as best and as good as you can get.

He'll always help, and use every single upgrade he's ever got put into him by his big brother to help you cook as best as you can.

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia ;; Diasomnia Housewarden ;; Third Year

Oh, boy. Malleus is scared that he has another Lilia on his hands. Of course, your food is not as bad as Lilia's, but it's still not, for lack of a better word, good.

He will eat it, but he'll compliment and praise your cooking in a very... odd way.

He'll compliment you, yes. But he'll also add in some, not-so-subtle ways you can improve.

Don't tell him, he genuinely thinks his attempts at helping are extremely subtle, when they are absolutely not.

Lilia Vanrouge ;; Diasomnia Vice-Housewarden ;; Third Year

Lilia, like Rook, Kalim, and Deuce, won't even notice that your food is bad.

And that is mostly because he, himself is a bad chef.

He's such a bad chef he can't even tell when foods are actually bad.

Even if he could tell that your food was not good, he still wouldn't care because he just loves you far, far too much to even think of pointing it out.

Silver Vanrouge ;; Diasomnia ;; Second Year

Silver is internally sobbing. First, his Father, and now, his significant other.

He's very sweet about telling you ways you can improve.

He actually does this with his father, too. But you're the only one who picks up on it, Lilia, sadly, does not.

Silver tries his absolute hardest to help, but he eventually succumbs to his sleep, but he always profusely apologizes afterward.

Sebek Zigvolt ;; Diasomnia ;; First Year

Sebek is oddly much sweeter about it than you'd ever expect.

He doesn't yell, but he does let you know that it doesn't taste good.

He explains ways you can fix it, despite he himself not knowing how to cook all that well.

He explains everything he knows about cooking to try and help you.

If Sebek manages to view a human as a significant other, or partner, he will dote on your every need or want in the sweetest way that you'd never, ever expect from him.

He's very sweet as he helps you cook, making sure that you do everything to the best of your genuine ability.

[thewertsearch]

EB: i should keep looking for my dad! […] GG: john, i already found your dad! […] GG: he is with roses mom GG: they are in a castle, having some sort of tea party together GG: they appear to be enjoying each others company! […] EB: oh wow… EB: jade, what if they get married or something???

This one's hard for me to ship in earnest, since we don’t know much about their actual personalities. They’re essentially the platonic ideals of a 1950s mother and father, though, so the ship does 'make sense', on some abstract level.

Hopefully we'll get to see this date later on - and with any luck, it'll allow us to learn a little more about these two.

GG: but really, they make a nice couple and i think it would be great if they got married! EB: yes, i agree. EB: even if it would make it awkward for me to marry rose.

Karkat’s shipping chart is really weighing on this kid’s mind...

GG: who are they to stand between two youngsters in love? EB: whoa, in love??? GG: yes john, two people must be in love in order to get married […] GG: so what do you say john, are you in love with rose?

...and thanks to Jade, we might be about to hear his take on it.

John reacted rather oddly to the subject when Karkat brought it up - it almost seems like he was bemused at the very idea of having a crush on Rose.

C’mon, John! Spill it!

EB: um… GG: and if not, are you prepared to fall in love with her? EB: er. GG: wellllll? :D EB: argh! EB: this line of questioning is making me flustered.

Or don't, I guess. That's fine. :(

See, I really don’t think John feels that way about Rose. We’ve seen plenty of conversations between those two, and I haven't detected even a hint of romantic chemistry. John does seem oddly fixated on the idea, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's into her.

We've never seen any evidence that John has IRL friends, and I get the sense that he's extremely attached to his online ones as a result.

I think the poor guy just really likes his buddies, and his 'not-a-homosexual' brain is programmed to believe that when you really like a girl, it must be 'a crush'.

He doesn't have a crush, but he does love Rose - so when he considers the question, he becomes confused and flustered, unable to parse what he is feeling from what he should be feeling.

EB: btw, you will marry dave. EB: 100% TRUE REALITY.

The jury's still out on these two, though.

I swear I've seen a spark of something between them - but I'd need to see them interact a little to get a proper read on their relationship.

[jungkooktarot]

The truth about Jungkook’s ships | tarot reading pt.2

IU: they didn’t actually date. she was a simple childhood crush, who he still admires as an artist, unsurprisingly she’s the best soloist in korea. if anything she always saw him as a younger brother or something. he would say she’s his ideal type but his type changed as he grew up too. he kind of wants people to let go.

Shin Hyunji: they didn’t date either. their energies don’t connect much too so I think they barely came across each other. if they did, it was a simple meeting because they share the same circles of friends, but that’s it.

Nicole: Nothing at all. She just works to help him, and because of that they are comfortable with each other & formed a simple friendship. even with the other members. It’s been known that she’s married anyway & has kids so that alone should tell you enough.

Lee Yubi: I think they have met somewhere, like in an award ceremony of some sort. Maybe someone saw them and that’s why the rumors spread so fast. He already knew of her, he could’ve watched her dramas. When they met, they clicked together, whether romantically or platonically. They got along, laughed and whatnot. She liked him. Jk probably saw the potential that she can be a good partner. However, it’s very clear to me that he didn’t think it’s the right time to date. He was too focused on his career. So he didn’t lead her or himself on, and decided to just move on and chose to focus on his career. So yeah. They didn’t date and there’s nothing that connects them right now.

Han So Hee: Nothing really. He found her to be attractive and he liked her style, her boldness. The fact that she wasn’t trying to be cute? The typical standards for korean women if you know what I mean. He was a bit shy and intimidated, but overall had the pleasure to work with her.

Shuhua/Miyeon: He didn’t date anyone from g-idle. He admires their music and would love to work with them, and he could be friends with some of the members. Even if not really close. They admire him and he sees that. It boosts his ego.

Annie Moon: they didn’t date. and he was almost indifferent about her. she feels like a fan. i don’t really know what brought them together but she’s known to go out and meet many idols, he’s just one of them.

[rageofthemuffin]

Sneak Peek

Here's what will probably be the first chapter of an actor AU I've been thinking about for literal years now. Codywan are together, but the main focus of the fic itself will be Obi-Wan's (platonic) relationship with Anakin. A little warning that Qui-Gon is a pretty slimy dude here, and there is discussion of manipulation and some predatory behavior.

I have no idea when this will actually be posted, I would want to get a few chapters written before then, and I don't even have an outline yet. I also have school and work and hobbies and all that good stuff, but this kinda wrote itself, so we'll see where it goes. Enjoy!

---

Obi-Wan had just finished pouring two generous glasses of wine when his phone started buzzing incessantly in his back pocket. He sighed deeply, carrying the glasses into the living room and handing one to his boyfriend before fishing out his flip phone, pleasantly surprised that the little caller ID screen was actually a friend and not spam.

“Bail, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, sinking onto the couch and against Cody’s side as his wine sloshed precariously.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting, Obi-Wan,” Bail said regretfully.

“No, no,” Obi-Wan assured him. “Cody and I are having a quiet night in.”

“Ah, well then I’m exceedingly sorry,” Bail said, good-humored.

Obi-Wan chuckled, taking a sip of his wine and leaning into the kiss Cody pressed to his temple.

“I have some news about our project,” Bail said.

“Good news or bad news?” Obi-Wan asked warily.

“Just news, but I want you to hear it from me.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Did it get delayed?”

“No, everything’s coming along perfectly, we’re still on track to begin shooting next month. But we’ve finished casting.”

“Oh? That sounds like good news,” Obi-Wan said cautiously. It also sounded like news not worthy of a phone call.

“It is, but there’s-“ Bail broke off, sighing. “See, we-“ he cursed softly. “I’m just going to say it. We cast Anakin Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan froze, wine glass half way to his lips. “I see.”

“And believe me, if there had been anyone else who fit the part I would have chosen otherwise, but he’s perfect, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan smiled wryly, ignoring Cody’s concerned gaze. “Yes, I can see why he would be.”

“I know this isn’t ideal, and you two will have to work very closely with each other, but-“

“It’s fine, Bail,” Obi-Wan said softly. He didn’t really need to hear whatever assurances his friend would come up with.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m a professional. I can handle working with another professional. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Bail breathed a sigh of relief through the speaker. “Alright then. Good. And if there’s anything I can do to make things easier-“

“I appreciate that,” Obi-Wan cut him off again. “Was there anything else?”

“Not tonight.”

“Then I’ll talk to you soon,” Obi-Wan promised, and with a return of the sentiment from Bail, he snapped his phone shut and tossed it to the other end of the couch.

“Are you okay?” Cody asked gently.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“I heard a certain name come up, and given that it was Bail on the phone, I think I can guess what’s going on.”

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair, nodding grimly. “They’ve cast him.”

Cody sighed. “They couldn’t find any other tormented kid for the part?”

“Bail and Breha have been trying to cast this part for months. And it makes sense, it really does. I’ve no doubt he’ll be fantastic.” Obi-Wan grimaced, washing the words down with a heavy sip.

Cody frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you-know-who coming to set all the time.”

“He’s never been one to do that sort of thing. Usually I was the one tagging along to his sets, and most of the time he just ignored me,” Obi-Wan snorted. “He’s never been good at taking an interest in what others are doing.”

“Bastard,” Cody muttered as he drank from his own glass.

“I quite agree. Now, I believe we had plans for this evening. You queue up the show, and I’ll be right back.”

Cody grabbed the remote, navigating to their latest trashy reality TV binge-and-bitch, as Obi-Wan called them. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to need the rest of that wine.”

—

It wasn’t that Obi-Wan hated Anakin Skywalker. The kid hadn’t really done anything to him.

Except, well, stealing his boyfriend.

But no, his therapist’s voice scolded him mentally, boyfriends couldn’t be stolen. They could decide, though, after ten years of dating that they were over it and start fucking their nineteen year old co-star. And that nineteen year old co-star had been…less than gracious about it.

When a humiliated and heartbroken Obi-Wan had shown up at the house he and Qui-Gon picked out together to move out his things, Anakin had already been quite comfortable, dressed in Qui-Gon’s clothes with messy hair and marks on his neck that painted quite the picture of how the two of them had been spending their time.

While Obi-Wan had shuffled around, miserably gathering his clothes and other personal effects, the boy had been practically hanging off of Qui-Gon, kissing his throat, pressing their bodies together, all with a vicious smirk as he caught Obi-Wan looking out of the corner of his eye. Qui-Gon, the bastard, had pretended to scold the boy, but it was painfully obvious the older man was pleased, giving Anakin sweet kisses and squeezing his ass whenever he noticed Obi-Wan looking. Obi-Wan hadn’t even closed the front door on his way out before he heard Anakin moan wantonly. He’d gone back to Quinlan’s apartment and shut himself in the guest room for a week after that.

Now that Obi-Wan had done some major healing, he could recognize that it was all just manipulation on his ex’s part. After all, he’d been Anakin’s age when he and Qui-Gon met, and there really was no reason for a thirty-five year old man to take interest in a nineteen year old. But Obi-Wan had been terribly vain and thought himself mature, and the older man had been so charming and attractive. He’d lapped up Qui-Gon’s attentions eagerly, preening over the fact that the notorious bachelor had chosen him.

So when the sex was mediocre at best, or when Qui-Gon would get in one of his moods and ignore him for weeks at a time, or when he’d point out Obi-Wan’s shortcomings far more than he’d ever complimented him, none of it mattered because they were in love. Qui-Gon chose Obi-Wan, and that made everything else insignificant. It wasn’t until months after it ended and dozens of therapy appointments that Obi-Wan finally grasped just how toxic and calculated it all was.

He realized that Qui-Gon probably had sex with Anakin right before Obi-Wan came over on purpose, and that his affection toward the boy was played up deliberately for him to see. He actually felt sorry for Anakin, knowing what kind of things were undoubtedly happening behind closed doors. It was bad enough for a thirty-five year old to pursue a nineteen year old; it was even worse for a forty-five year old to do it.

However, Anakin hadn’t been an easy one to pity. The media went crazy when they found out Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had broken up and that the older man already had a young new boyfriend. Speculation ran wild, and a lot of it was pretty much accurate, but the two of them had taken advantage of Obi-Wan’s private disposition to attempt to spin things in their favor.

Qui-Gon, similarly private, hadn’t ever said anything about it. But Anakin, a bold upcoming action star, had said a lot. He spoke about the drama in several interviews, claiming that Qui-Gon had just gotten out of a bad relationship when they met and that he and Anakin had “just clicked.” He never mentioned Obi-Wan by name. He didn’t need to. He just gushed about Qui-Gon to the press until interest died down.

It had worked probably about as well as it could have, though Obi-Wan had seen plenty of people expressing doubt about the age gap and pointing out that Obi-Wan had once been in Anakin’s position, too, though without the potential infidelity.

It was all too much, and the noise had made it very difficult for Obi-Wan to attempt to move on and heal, so he’d replaced his smart phone with a basic flip phone and started using his computer mostly just for work. He’d loaded his TV with ad-free streaming service subscriptions, and he’d finally given himself some peace.

He went to therapy, he spent more time with his friends, he decorated his apartment just exactly how he liked it. He only took projects he was interested in, finding a lot of satisfaction in his work when there wasn’t someone at his side telling him all the ways he wasn’t quite perfect.

And on the three year anniversary of the worst day of his life, he met Cody.

Cody was head of security for the film Obi-Wan was shooting at the time. He noticed him immediately, strong and handsome and a little mysterious. For the first time since his breakup, Obi-Wan felt the stirrings of interest. He’d chatted to Cody throughout the day, and the man was exceptionally polite and professional. Almost too professional, because Obi-Wan had gently flirted with him for the rest of the shoot, and then the man had still seemed shocked that Obi-Wan wanted to exchange numbers on his last day on set.

The two of them gradually started getting to know one another through phone calls, eventually getting to the point where they would talk for hours, both missing out on sleep in favor of one another. Eventually, Obi-Wan invited Cody to his apartment so they could hang out in person, and that was that.

Cody was sweet and attentive and communicative, everything Obi-Wan had never experienced in a relationship before. The sex was great, better than Obi-Wan even knew it could be, but the little, slow moments where the two of them just existed together were Obi-Wan’s favorites.

His friends loved Cody, and the media had no idea Cody existed (not because they were particularly trying to hide, but because he wasn’t a celebrity, and Obi-Wan was great at avoiding the press). They bought a house together six months ago, both of their careers were thriving, Obi-Wan had just signed on to a movie produced and directed by some of his best friends, and he’d never been so happy in his life.

He reminded himself of that fact as he walked into the studio for the table read. It was only two months of filming, he could get through it.

The thing was, he wanted to do more than get through it. He wanted to enjoy himself. Bail and Breha were amazing, the script was brilliant, and the cast was incredibly talented, Anakin Skywalker included.

Obi-Wan was met almost immediately by Breha upon stepping inside, finding himself pulled into a tight hug.

“Obi-Wan, it’s been far too long,” she scolded him warmly. “Bail’s been keeping you all to himself.”

Obi-Wan grinned down at her. “Maybe if you weren’t so wildly successful, you wouldn’t be too busy to join us for lunch once in a while.”

Breha just shook her head fondly. “How’s Cody?”

“He’s great, he told me to invite the two of you for dinner sometime soon.”

“Of course! I’ve got to run and meet some execs, but set up that dinner with Bail before you leave.” Breha kissed his cheek before breezing out of the room, her place swiftly taken by her husband.

“Obi-Wan,” Bail greeted with a firm handshake. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.”

Bail leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry about the seating arrangement, but you two have so many scenes together-“

Obi-Wan held up a hand, glancing around to note that, of course, he and Anakin were seated next to each other, the younger actor already in his seat. “No more apologies Bail. Like you said, we have a lot of scenes together. We’re both adults, it will be fine.”

Bail nodded, not looking particularly reassured, and moved to greet someone else. Obi-Wan moved toward his seat, shaking hands and kissing cheeks along the way.

He greeted Padmé Amidala warmly, glad she was seated on his other side. They weren’t close, but they had mutual friends, and Obi-Wan had always admired the younger actress.

Finally, he had no choice but to address Anakin. The young man was eyeing him already, and when Obi-Wan faced him, he stiffened, jutting his chin out as if challenging Obi-Wan to make a scene. It had been five years since Obi-Wan had seen him in person, and he definitely looked different.

His hair was longer, for one thing, and instead of the boyish energy he’d carried himself with five years ago, now he was tense and moody-looking, his shoulders hunched forward and his arms folded over his chest.

Obi-Wan just did his best to smile politely, sticking out a hand. “Hello, Anakin.”

Anakin watched his hand suspiciously for a moment before shaking it. “Hi.”

Obi-Wan sighed internally, deciding to go grab a coffee before the reading started.

It was going to be a long two months.

[triptychgardener]

Hello sorry if this is a bother but I am asking in good faith where is the reading for transmasc nepeta. I’m asking this cuz of your last ask (the June one) and I see aradia Dirk and Jane. Thoes all I have seen post and analysis about. But I have not really seen anything about nepeta.

Okay so first thing you gotta understand is that gender in Homestuck, for lack of a better way to say it, can be understood in how characters reflect and relate to each other. That being said to understand Nepeta's gender, we gotta understand the gender of at the very least one other person.

Dave.

And more specifically.

Davepeta, Homestuck's very own first(ish) trans character.

Davepeta is noted to be a sort of platonic ideal of existence for both Dave and Nepeta. Somehow, through a strange series of cosmic coincidences, these two end up making an odd sort of parallel. Both having a strange relationship to a man who loves him some goddamn horses. The whole Akwete Purrmusk thing. I mean, Dave canonically engaged in semi-nonironic furry roleplay with Nepeta offscreen, and given what we know about what becoming a furry in Homestuck means, it's not a leap to describe this as their ideal form.

But, although we don't see a lot of Nepeta's character arc, we do see a lot of Dave's. He struggles his whole life under an incredibly oppressive masculine force (both of Bro and, indirectly, Lord English), and once the game is over ends up deconstructing and largely rejecting that.

So when Davesprite, who's also probably been thinking about this for even longer, bereft of purpose or identity, finds a kindred soul in a spunky catgirl... well the rest is Davepeta.

And similarly, there are points in the story where Nepeta acts kind of uncomfortable with how others see her as exclusively something to be protected. The whole "Dear, sweet, precious Nepeta" grates on her early on, as Equius uses it as an excuse to control her actions. The whole of moiraillegience as it is originally explained (i.e. one party helps to calm down an especially brutal and violent person from outbursts of anger, and in turn that person will protect the more docile, even-tempered soul from external harm) even kind of FEELS like the way heterosexual relationships are portrayed in a lot of conservative spaces, where women are nuturers and caretakers while men are protectors. And Nepeta is supposed to, in this situation, be the person who helps Equius manage his emotions, which she feels some consternation at!

Now, over the course of Hivebent, their relationship appears to evolve and get a bit more balanced, but it still carries these overtones of "I will protect you, and you will handle my outbursts." Notably, when Equius goes to seek the Highb100d, and leaves Nepeta behind.

And of course not after roleplaying as each other.

Which. I mean come on.

But notably, Nepeta doesn't just stay put! She doesn't really want to be protected all the time! And when push comes to shove, she leaps out to defend, or at the very least avenge, her best friend.

And then, we don't really see Nepeta for a while!

Until we get to the end of the comic.

During their whole "date", Nepeta seems a little uncomfortable with Jasprose's affections. She may be a bit flattered, but Jasprose also fully admits later that she was frankly looking for any girl she could fall in love with after the tragic death of her girlfriend and possible more tragic untimely resurrection.

But then the pivotal handshake happens, and we get to see who is perhaps the most happy being in all of Homestuck.

Then we get into some of the only actual discussion of gender in Homestuck. We don't get much besides that, for both of their lives, Dave and Nepeta both felt something was missing. Something felt wrong that they couldn't quite place that made them both miserable. I don't think it's a massive stretch to say this could be gender dysphoria.

And when they combine, they feel the fullness of the gendered experience they were missing, melded together like a two-piece puzzle.

Now while the abovementioned "strong identities as a boy and a girl" might throw you off, I would point to what Victoria Lacroix said about this passage: note the lack of the word "respectively." I rest my case.

Now full disclosure, my personal headcanon for Nepeta is genderfluid transmasc. The whole affinity for roleplaying lends itself to a more shifting identity and I just think Nepeta, given more time, would love exploring the little nooks and crannies of gender.

This isn't going into the more complicated shit with Gender when it comes to Equius and Dirk and all that other stuff. Here's a quick summary so you can see exactly how my brain is broken.

Anyways, thanks for the question! I hope I answered my thoughts on the topic adequately! If other people have more to say about this, please feel free to add on!

[melrosing]

How do you think Dany will get along with the starks (Bran, Sansa, Arya, Rickon, and Jon)

I think in theory she could get along really well with all of them - but it’s a story so I guess I can only imagine there’ll be some friction somewhere down the line, whether that’s upon initial meetings or further along.

w Jon specifically it’s murky because we don’t know what he’s going to be like once he comes back, so you can’t really gage Dany’s chemistry w a character you can’t anticipate. I imagine him coming back as like…. angrier and more hard-headed, but I don’t think the rest of his story would work if it robbed him of all heart. like Beric still has a tenderness about him as he’s died countless times. so in any case, would imagine the two don’t get along perfectly to start with: Dany finds Jon a strange sort of guy who doesn’t go out of his way to accommodate or appease her, and maybe Jon thinks Dany’s quest for the iron throne is a vanity project compared to what he has on his hands. I do think they’ll become a couple, so presumably they overcome initial impressions to achieve a dialogue and then become closer…. but the whole undead Jon thing really sticks in ur teeth lol like I have NO idea where this couple is headed together. where’s this going george

for the Stark sisters, I think both would naturally be attracted to Dany’s character but it’s only to be expected that they’ll have reservations of their own? Dany has a negative opinion of House Stark owing to Ned’s part in Robert’s Rebellion, whilst the Stark sisters may remember what the Targaryens in turn did to their family. then there’s also the fact that neither Stark sister has had the kindest encounters with queens so far, so I think it would be normal if they’re troubled by a new player arriving out of left field?? but as I say I think both Stark girls would admire Dany: Sansa would think Dany is like some kind of platonic ideal of a queen and I think develop an affection for her as she does Margaery (only more bc she could be surer of Dany’s authenticity) and likewise Arya would be in awe of Dany and all she’s accomplished and hero worship her as she does Nymeria. and Dany is a found family kind of girl who I think would be naturally delighted w two new lil sisters. but all of that’s complicated by the context - this is a story, things get lost in translation, there’s a war going on (actually there’s several), etc etc. so as i say there may still be a great deal of scepticism between the three of them.

Bran and Dany….. I mean Bran is a similar case to Jon. I don’t think he’s going to return as some kind of human computer as he does in the show - Bran’s sweet nature is such a key trait of his, it seems it defeats the point of the character to do away with who he is as a person to better accommodate his powers. and I always saw D&D’s doing this as simply a betrayal of the fact that they’ve never known what to do with Bran, much less once magic is involved. but he’ll still be operating on a separate plane to the other characters and I can only assume the way he engages with Dany will be based on what he sees of her future. and idk what that future is, so like…. idk lol. I do also tend to think that Bran will be one of the last characters to arrive at Winterfell (if indeed that is where he spends TLN). Bran supposedly knows all, and you don’t really introduce a character like that until the others have had time to puzzle it out by themselves. otherwise (per the show) you just have bran coldly watching from the sidelines. anyway, in neutral circumstances i think Bran would get along w Dany as he does everyone, and Dany would adore him in turn uwu

and finally Rickon. tbh I think he will just be pestering her for rides on Drogon and then if she ever obliges he’ll start pestering her for a second ride

[nebula-chao-agere]

You guys had to have expected this at some point

Also, I would just like to note, that some of these are exclusive to certain plot lines, but since it’s Sonic, I’m kinda of blurring the lines of the plotlines ig??? Like, I’m making headcanons based on SA2 and Prime, so do with this what you will.

Regressor! Shadow

(!¡! Diaper/Pull-up mention !¡!)

He is an itty bitty baby, and regressed due to unbelievable amounts of trauma and just a lack of childhood. He deserves the absolute best.

Shadow is the fussiest little hedgy to ever grace the earth.

He has a collection of shark plushies and other assorted items/toys.

His headspace ranges from 3 all the way down to completely nonverbal. He’s not very good at pinpointing what age he feels because he has no concept of what childhood feels like.

Shadow really likes to wear baggy clothes when little, even though he doesn’t wear clothes normally. Big sweaters and sleeper onsies are ideal.

He doesn’t really understand the concept of diapers, but knows they’re for babies, so he enjoys wearing them just for comfort.

Shadow actually doesn’t understand most ‘little’ things and gets really upset about this fact. He will melt down over the fact that he doesn’t understand why children can’t just do things on their own, because relying on someone or asking for help is such a foreign concept to him.

Little Shadow didn’t know he wanted to be cared for or shown affection until it was really given to him. Rouge was the first to know about Shadow’s regression, and ever since, “Mimi” Rouge has shown him real (platonic) affection and now that the little one has had cuddles, he refuses to let them stop. He’s just a clingy little baby.

-Rouge is probably Shadow’s main caregiver. Sonic is more of an older sibling who regresses with him, but will take on a sort of caregiver role if he’s not regressed with him and Rouge isn’t there.

Instead of movies, sensory videos, or any sort of TV, little Shadow likes to watch livestreams/live video of sharks and fish at aquariums.

He’s a sassy and fussy little baby who has probably bitten before. Little Shadow does not really get along well with Little Sonic unless he’s feeling extra small, sleepy, or he just really doesn’t have it in him to fight with Sonic.

While being a fussy little goober, he’s actually one of the more calm little ones. As long as he has everything he could want (stuffies, snacks, movies, bottle, etc - just anything he needs in the moment to feel comfortable and fulfilled at the moment) without being asked to do anything, or even just being spoken to, he’s actually just a chill little guy.

-Though it can make no sense at times, there are times where, even when regressed, Shadow just needs some time alone. Whether he just needs the time to think or reflect or just to be little on his own, it’s okay to have alone time when you’re little too.

Rouge and Shadow have a made up language for safe words, just in case saying ‘no’ is too scary or saying anything at all in the moment is already daunting.

Shadow has a lot of trouble with any caregivers, not liking being told what to do in any sense. He doesn’t understand why he needs to be watched over or watched and parented when regressed, but after a small tumble that occurred in the living room after he was asked to pick up his toys, he started to understand a better.

“I don’t want to…” the regressed hedgy mumbled, crossing his arms and stopping his foot a bit. Rouge sighed softly. “Sweetie, if you can just put away your toys in the toy box by the time Mimi comes back, we can watch the shark videos tonight before bed, okay little guy?” Shadow continues pouting as Rouge walks into the kitchen to quickly clean the dishes. Not watching where he was walking, he went to go sit over on the couch, but stumbled over some of his blocks on the floor. Tears sprung to his eyes, even it hadn’t hurt all that bad, Shadow having been through far worse, it still frightened the regressed Shadow. Rouge heard the tumble and quickly rushed in, finding the misty eyed hedgehog breathing shakily as he carefully situated himself so he sat on his knees now. “Baby! Hey! Little guy, what happened?! I didn’t even fully step out of the room!” She pointed out. Shadow didn’t even turn to look at her, far too stubborn. With shaky hands, he started to move his blocks and other toys to the toy box like Mimi asked. Rouge looked worriedly over him, but smiled softly when he got all his toys put away. After which, he crawled over to Rouge, and softly cried to her shoulder. He was just an itty bitty baby… “Mimi…I feww down.” Shadow finally admitted. “I’m sor’y I didn’ c’ean up m’ toys.” He sniffled, shivering a bit as he sat in her lap.

He has a lot of nightmares, and gets very uncomfortable talking, about space. Being stuck in The Void in Sonic Prime and Space Colony ARK for a huge part of his life, it’s a very uncomfortable and isolating topic for him. Most people find space to awesome while he wants to curl up and hide away from it.

-Silver had only good intentions when he bought Shadow the glow in the dark stars for his room, not expecting a small Shadow freak out. It wasn’t a big panicky freak out, but he went nonverbal and closed himself off to everyone else in the room. Silver didn’t know, but would later gift the stars to Sonic instead, and got Shadow some new bath toys with some recommendations from Rouge.

Shadow gets flustered easily by little nicknames far too easily, and will the act like a ‘big boy’ but after a few minutes of little names, praise, and tons of kisses on his cheek, you’ll have a giggly little hedgy in no time.

Surprisingly, he has little to no shame with his little stuff. He’ll be having a normal conversation, and in the middle of someone talking, he’ll pull out his pacifier and pop it into his mouth and act like it’s the most normal thing ever. He doesn’t really understand that it’s not a normal thing for someone to want to do, but he also knows that any judgment will be kept to themselves, Shadow having the ability to easily kick just about anyone’s ass.

Bottles >>> Sippies

Rouge LOVES to spoil this little guy, and has dedicated most of her living room to be a safe play space for little Shadow. She has done everything she can to make it feel like a genuine play space for a child, not just a makeshift attempt for an adult who’s never experienced childhood. She wants to give Shadow a taste of a real childhood.

-He loves playing on the road carpet with his toy cars, especially when Sonic comes over. Silver likes playing with their plushies more when he comes over, the two having a closer headspace, while a Sonic is like the older cousin coming over to play.

(I’m so sorry my energy/motivation are DEPLETED right now. Trying to post stuff still, I swear.)

[drewharrisonwriter]

Friends Without Benefits

Status: One Shot, Complete

Summary: Even if you don't believe it, Dieter Bravo is actually capable of having platonic friendships.

Word Count: 10.5k words

Warnings: strong language, heavy flirtation, sexual tension (no smut--can you believe it??), mentions of past affairs and scandals, alcohol consumption, references to Dieter’s reckless behavior, mentions of drug use, emotional vulnerability, humor, inappropriate jokes (because, Dieter!), legal contract about not fucking

A/N: Okay, I know what you're thinking… another Dieter fic? Yeah, I know—it’s like my fourth one, so clearly, the brain rot is real, and I’m trying to get it out of my system (seriously, I’m trying… sort of). I know I haven’t updated Lifeline in a hot minute, but we’ll get to that later, lol. This fic is a little different from the usual—there’s a lot more fluff and friendship stuff, but I really enjoyed playing with the dynamic of two people who could totally cross the line but decide not to (because, honestly, it’s working for them as is). Also, apologies for any typos—I tried proofreading, but doing it on my phone isn’t exactly ideal. Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!

P.S. My laptop, which served me well for 5 years, just gave out. With grad school, the recent loss of my stepdad, and ongoing medical bills, finances are tight. I’m currently managing writing commissions and my dissertation from my phone, which is okay but really challenging. If you can help with a donation or by commissioning some of my writing, or just by simply commenting or reblogging, it would mean the world to me. 💜 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any support you can offer. 💜🙏🏻

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

It started with a rejection email.

Not the kind that offered hope for future opportunities, but the type that crushed your spirit in one curt sentence:

"We regret to inform you that your application for the Screenwriting Development Program has not been accepted."

She read it over twice, then a third time, hoping something had been missed. A reason, some constructive feedback, anything. But it was just a copy-paste response sent to dozens—maybe hundreds—of other hopefuls like her. She blinked away the sting in her eyes and put the laptop to sleep.

The screen faded to black, reflecting back an image she barely recognized anymore: tangled hair, circles under her eyes, and the lingering trace of a smile she hadn’t used in days.

“Whatever,” she muttered to herself. “I didn’t need it anyway.”

That was a lie.

The Screenwriting Development Program was her shot, her dream, the chance to step out of her day-to-day grind and into the world she’d always wanted. A world where she wrote stories that people would actually care to hear.

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. In fifteen minutes, she had to be at the diner. She grabbed her apron off the back of a chair and stuffed it into her bag before heading out.

As usual, the shift was long. And slow. She spent most of her time refilling coffee for the regulars and plastering on a smile that barely reached her eyes. The rejection lingered like a dark cloud, reminding her how close she was to giving up completely. By the time her shift ended, she was so exhausted that she didn’t even change out of her uniform. She just grabbed her bag and headed out into the night.

The long walk up to her apartment felt heavier than usual. It wasn’t until she reached her front door that the next wave of despair hit her like a punch to the gut.

An eviction notice.

She stared at the paper taped to her door, her heart sinking.

“Great,” she whispered bitterly, ripping it off and crumpling it into a ball before shoving it into her bag.

Four weeks. She had four weeks to come up with the rent, or she’d be out on the street.

Later, she sat on her couch in her underwear and a camisole, trying to ignore the cold chill of the eviction notice that still hovered at the edge of her mind. The TV buzzed in the background, Dieter Bravo’s voice filling the small apartment with a familiar rasp. A half-eaten carton of ice cream sat beside her, its contents softening to a puddle as she mindlessly scooped the melting mess.

Hunger Strike was playing again. She’d lost count of how many times she’d watched it by now. Dieter’s performance was the kind that stuck with you, the kind that won awards. It wasn’t just a movie anymore; it was the movie that had put him on the map—had made him a star and earned him that Oscar. She didn’t care if everyone else had moved on to the next blockbuster; for her, Hunger Strike was it. Every look in his eyes, every rasp of desperation in his voice felt real, almost too real. It was like he wasn’t acting at all.

"We don’t need them. They need us!" His character was yelling now, his voice hoarse, raw with intensity. She could practically feel his pain, his determination radiating through the screen.

She wiped at her eyes, even though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was everything—her life, the rejection, the eviction notice looming like a ticking time bomb. Or maybe it was just Dieter. Watching him made her feel seen, like somehow, through all the chaos, someone else understood what it was like to be on the edge.

The credits rolled on Hunger Strike, but instead of turning off the TV, she did what any fan would—she went down the rabbit hole. The screen filled with suggested videos, interviews, and, of course, the latest tabloid scandals. Dieter Bravo was all over the place lately. She had seen the headlines—everyone had. It was impossible to ignore him, even if you tried.

She grabbed her phone and scrolled through Twitter, where his name was trending yet again.

"Dieter Bravo's Latest Scandal: Sex Tape with Male Assistant Exposed!"

"Gender Identity Crisis or Another Stunt? Dieter Bravo Caught in Love Triangle with Married PA!"

"Oscar-Winning Actor, Homewrecker? Dieter Bravo Linked to Personal Assistant's Broken Marriage!"

She exhaled sharply, half-amused, half in disbelief. Every few months, it seemed, something like this would pop up—another scandal, another explosion in the media circus surrounding him. But this one? A sex tape? With his male personal assistant, who was married to a woman?

It was outrageous. It was chaotic. It was exactly what you'd expect from Dieter Bravo.

How does one even make this shit up? she thought, as she tapped one of the articles. The details were just as wild as the headlines. Apparently, the PA was a guy named James, and he’d been with Dieter for years—right up until last week, when everything blew up.

An article excerpt says: "Sources say that the sex tape in question was filmed during a drug-fueled party at Dieter’s mansion. It shows intimate moments between the actor and his assistant, James, who is reportedly married to a woman. James has since left Dieter’s employment amid the scandal, and insiders claim the actor is ‘unapologetic’ about the affair. This is just the latest in a long string of public meltdowns for the once-revered actor. Dieter Bravo’s chaotic lifestyle has led many to question his mental stability and even his gender identity, as he continues to defy traditional labels."

She snorted, shaking her head. “Unapologetic? That sounds about right.”

It wasn’t that she supported his reckless behavior, but there was something about Dieter that always seemed to push boundaries in every direction. He lived like a car crash happening in slow motion, and yet, people couldn’t look away. The scandals, the chaos—they were just part of his public persona. But there was more to him than that.

She clicked on an older interview from the Cliff Beasts 6 press tour. That was the movie where everything started to unravel for him. The film was supposed to be a big comeback, but instead, it had exposed the man behind the Oscar-winning actor—drugs, sex, alcohol, and a level of unpredictability that no one in Hollywood could quite handle.

Interviewer: “Dieter, after your incredible performance in Hunger Strike, people expected another award-winning role in Cliff Beasts 6, but... that’s not what happened. Can you talk about what went wrong?”

Dieter Bravo (slouching, visibly tired): “Cliff Beasts 6... yeah, man, that was a mess. But, like, it was supposed to be a mess, wasn’t it? I mean, we were trapped in that goddamn bubble for months longer than planned, and by the end, it wasn’t even a movie anymore. It was survival.” He laughed, a rough, bitter sound. “I overdosed on camera, for fuck’s sake. People thought it was part of the documentary. Maybe it should’ve been.”

Interviewer: “So, the extended shoot during the pandemic—did that affect the film’s outcome?”

Dieter (rubbing his temples, shaking his head): “Affect it? It was the outcome. By the time we got to month six, no one gave a shit about the movie anymore. It was just about getting out of there alive. People wanted me to deliver some award-winning performance? Dude, I was barely holding it together. I mean, look at the film—Cliff Beasts was never about art. By the sixth one, it was just... noise. Star-studded, CGI-filled noise. People expected something big, but I gave them a disaster. Maybe that’s what it needed to be.”

Interviewer: “The overdose incident—was that something planned for the documentary, or did things just... get out of control?”

Dieter Bravo (smirking, then shrugging): “Planned? Nah, man, nothing was planned by then. I mean, the cameras were always rolling, right? So when I went down... they just kept filming. Thought it’d make for good behind-the-scenes footage or something. But that’s Hollywood for you.” He paused, letting the weight of it sink in before adding, “People don’t care if you’re falling apart. They just want to know if it’ll sell.”

Interviewer: “That’s pretty heavy. Do you think Cliff Beasts 6 was the start of your... well, decline? It’s no secret you’ve had a rough few years since.”

Dieter Bravo (lighting a cigarette, ignoring the studio's no-smoking policy): “Decline? Maybe. I dunno. I think people were already looking for a reason to tear me apart. Cliff Beasts just made it easier. It wasn’t the overdose that got people talking, it was the fact that it happened while I was making a movie no one cared about anymore. The sixth installment, man. By that point, the franchise was running on fumes, and so was I. But people love a good downfall, right? They see someone on top, and they wait for you to crash. They’ll stick a camera in your face and call it a documentary when really, it’s just a freak show.”

She paused the video, the cigarette smoke still curling from Dieter’s lips frozen on the screen. The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. It was no wonder the media loved to tear him apart; they were practically fed the narrative on a silver platter. His whole life had become the entertainment industry’s favorite sideshow.

She stared at the screen for a few more moments, Dieter’s face frozen in that half-smirk, half-exhausted expression. He was unraveling, and everyone was watching. Cliff Beasts 6 might have been the breaking point, but it wasn’t the cause. No, Dieter had been falling apart long before that.

In a different world, she imagined, she and Dieter could be friends. He’d probably laugh at the mess she just made, tell her not to sweat it. In another life, maybe they’d meet over coffee or work on some crazy indie project together. They’d both be swimming in their own chaos, but maybe that’s what would make their friendship work.

She wasn’t delusional; she knew Dieter Bravo was a celebrity—someone she would probably never meet, never know beyond the screen. But sometimes, when he said things like that, it felt like he was speaking directly to her. Like maybe, in some other life, they’d get along. They’d get each other.

Her eyes drifted down to the eviction notice sitting on the coffee table. Four weeks, it said. Four weeks to come up with the rent, or she’d be out on the street. It was hard to feel hopeful when every option felt like a dead end. And yet, watching Dieter talk about his own collapse, she didn’t feel so alone.

Her phone buzzed on the cushion beside her.

She ignored it at first, assuming it was just another bill reminder. But when she glanced at the screen, her breath caught.

Studio Callback - Screenwriting Internship.

Her heart stopped. A callback? After all this time?

Without thinking, she sat up too fast, the ice cream carton tipping over the edge of the couch and spilling melted chocolate onto the floor. “Shit!” she cursed, grabbing a towel and wiping at the sticky mess with quick, frustrated swipes.

It felt surreal. She had applied for that screenwriting internship months ago and had long since written it off as a missed opportunity. But here it was—another chance.

She stood there, towel in one hand, her phone in the other, staring at the message like it might disappear if she blinked. Four weeks until eviction, a job that barely covered her bills, and now, out of nowhere, this lifeline.

Her eyes flicked back to the TV, where Dieter’s face still stared back at her.

She picked up her phone and, without hesitating, replied to the message. Yes. I’ll be there.

–

The next day…

The waiting room buzzed with the same dreary energy it had since she’d arrived nearly an hour ago. Grey walls, uncomfortable chairs, and that humming fluorescent light that seemed to buzz directly into her brain. She sat on the edge of her seat, fingers tracing the spine of her portfolio, glancing at the door every time it swung open.

But this time, it wasn’t her turn.

It was him.

Dieter Bravo stormed into the room like a hurricane, sunglasses still perched on his face even though the room was dim, his hair a chaotic mess, like he’d just rolled out of bed—or maybe stumbled out of a party. His team trailed behind him, all looking frazzled and overworked. He barely acknowledged them as he flopped into a chair across from her with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“Well, this is bullshit,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “I’m a goddamn Oscar winner, and they’ve got me sitting in this dump of a waiting room like I’m some extra on a low-budget indie film.”

She bit her lip, trying to hide her amusement. She knew who Dieter Bravo was the second he’d walked in—who didn’t? His face had been plastered on every tabloid for weeks. But there was something surreal about seeing him up close, in the flesh, like he’d been plucked straight from her TV screen. Don’t freak out, she told herself. He’s just a person.

Still, the excitement bubbled up inside her, and for a moment, she just stared at him, feeling the shock wear off.

He caught her staring. “What? You think this is funny?”

She blinked, pulling herself together, giving him a deadpan look. “I think you’re acting like someone who’s forgotten what a waiting room is.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to be offended or intrigued. “And you are?”

She shrugged. “Someone who’s been sitting here for an hour. Pretty sure I’m about to merge with this chair if they don’t call me soon.”

Dieter snorted, sitting up a little straighter, like he wasn’t used to people talking to him like that. Not outside his circle, at least. “An hour, huh? That’s it? Try six months trapped in a COVID bubble filming Cliff Beasts 6. That’s real torture.”

She laughed softly. “Yeah, I saw that movie. Pretty sure it was a crime against humanity.”

He cracked a grin. “Hey, that movie’s still paying my rent.”

“Is it? Seems like you should be able to afford better waiting rooms, then.”

Dieter leaned back in his chair, adjusting his sunglasses even though they weren’t needed. “Touché.”

There was a pause, a silence between them that felt more comfortable than awkward. They were sizing each other up, like two kids sitting next to each other on a school bus, deciding if they wanted to be friends.

“So,” Dieter said, shifting his gaze toward her again. “What are you here for? You in trouble, too?”

She smirked. “I’m always in trouble.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Yeah, well, me too.” He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking around the room as if just noticing how drab it was. “You work here or something?”

She shrugged. “Depends if they think I’m good enough to work here.”

“Good enough for what?”

“I’m a writer,” she said, half-smiling, but there was a vulnerability in her voice. “Or at least I’m trying to be.”

Dieter’s eyes lit up with genuine curiosity, which caught her off guard. “A writer, huh? You got anything out there I’ve seen?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “Only if you read stuff on Medium and Tumblr.”

Dieter laughed, the sound deep and unexpected, like he wasn’t used to laughing like that. “Tumblr, huh? So you’re a real writer.” He gave her a playful look. “What do you write? Fanfiction about guys like me?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a teasing glint in her gaze. “Nope. But if I did, it’d be better than that train wreck you called Cliff Beasts 6.”

Dieter clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Right in the ego.”

She smirked. “Ego as big as yours can take it.”

For a second, he just stared at her, genuinely caught off guard. He wasn’t used to people talking to him like this—like he was normal, not some Oscar-winning disaster wrapped in a scandal. She didn’t seem to care who he was or how many headlines he’d been in. It was refreshing, and he found himself more interested in her than he had been in anyone outside his usual crowd in a long time.

“So what do you do?” she asked casually, keeping the banter going.

Dieter laughed, a full, deep sound that made him look younger than he usually did in the tabloids. “What do I do? I’m a professional disaster. You haven’t heard?”

She chuckled, nodding toward the door. “I think you’re better at it than you are at acting.”

Dieter looked at her for a beat, his mouth twitching into a smirk. “You know, I don’t get a lot of people talking to me like this. Most people, they want to kiss ass or they just want something from me.”

She shrugged, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “What can I say? I’m not most people.”

He leaned forward, intrigued. “You like books?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What kind of books?”

“The kind that make people uncomfortable.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. “I see you’ve read Camus.”

He grinned. “The Stranger. Ever read it?”

“I did. Twice. Though I’m more of a Kafka fan.” She paused for a beat, her voice deadpan. “I like my existentialism served with a side of why is everything a nightmare and also I’m a bug.”

Dieter laughed again, clearly impressed. “You’re alright, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, her tone casual, but inside, she couldn’t quite believe she was having this conversation. With Dieter Bravo. Of all people.

They stared at each other, neither blinking, as if trying to see who’d crack first. But before either could say anything more, the door opened again.

“Mr. Bravo?” A frazzled assistant appeared in the doorway, eyes wide as they motioned for him to come in. “We’re ready for you.”

Dieter groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes as he stood up. “Finally.” He paused, turning to her with a smirk. “Don’t go anywhere, book lover. We’re not done with this conversation.”

She gave him a small smile, though inwardly she rolled her eyes. Yeah, sure. Like you'd remember me in two minutes, she thought. Dieter was famous for being distracted, for forgetting people as soon as he turned a corner. Everyone knew about his ADD—it was practically part of his public persona. He’d probably forget her name before the door even shut behind him.

Inside the meeting room…

Dieter slouched into a chair, his eyes flicking toward the group of studio executives sitting across from him, all with tight-lipped expressions. They weren’t here to chit-chat. They were here to clean up his mess. Again.

“Alright, what’s the damage?” Dieter asked, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

One of the executives, a tall man with silver hair and an expensive-looking suit, sighed heavily. “We’ve already settled with James and his wife. They’ve agreed not to divorce, but we’re paying for damages—and couples therapy.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow. “Couples therapy? Really?”

The man didn’t blink. “Yes, Dieter. Really.”

The room was thick with tension, the kind that only came when the stakes were sky-high. Another executive chimed in. “The headlines are out of control. We need to distance you from this. Fast.”

“What do you want me to do? Apologize? I already said I was sorry.” Dieter’s voice was tired, edged with sarcasm, but underneath, there was a flicker of frustration.

The silver-haired executive leaned forward. “Dieter, this isn’t about a simple apology. You’ve gone beyond that. Your lifestyle—this hedonistic, Roman emperor routine you’ve got going on—it’s not just damaging your reputation. It’s hurting us. The studio. The people you’re supposed to be representing.”

Dieter blinked, caught off guard by the harshness in the man’s tone.

“We’ve invested millions in you,” the executive continued, “and right now, you’re a liability. There’s talk of ending your contract early. Cutting ties before you bring the whole house down.”

Dieter’s jaw tightened. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” the man said coldly. “I’m not.”

For a moment, Dieter just sat there, staring at the man, trying to process what he was hearing. They were serious. He was this close to losing everything.

Another voice chimed in—his publicist, trying to smooth things over. “We’re not saying it’s over, Dieter. But we need to fix this. Charities. Positive press. You need to lay low for a while.”

The executive nodded. “No public appearances, no parties. We’re going to find some charity work for you, get the public to see a new side of you. You’re going to disappear for a bit. When you come back, you’ll be better. Clean. Understood?”

Dieter clenched his fists, the frustration boiling beneath the surface. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you need.”

“And we’ll get you a new PA,” his publicist added. “Someone who can keep you grounded. Keep you out of trouble, hopefully, someone you could not fuck.”

Dieter waved them off, already bored with the conversation. His mind drifted back to the waiting room, to the girl sitting across from him, trading quips like they were old friends. At least she’s interesting, he thought.

Back in the waiting room…

She sat there, slumped in her chair, staring blankly at the wall. The interview hadn’t gone well. She hadn’t gotten the job. The casting director had been polite but distant, and she could tell by their expression that they already had someone else in mind. Her stomach twisted with disappointment.

No extra job. No extra paycheck. And no way to make rent by the end of the month.

She stared down at her portfolio, feeling the weight of her failure settle in. She’d have to start packing soon. Maybe call her mom, tell her she was coming home. She could already imagine the conversation.

“We told you so,” her mom would say. “You should’ve gone into nursing. Writing was never going to pay the bills.”

Her stepdad would nod in agreement, disappointed but unsurprised. “Creative writing? Really?” he’d say. “What did you think would happen?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying not to think about it. But the thoughts kept coming, relentless. She’d have to pack up, move back home, admit defeat.

God, I’m such a screw-up.

The door creaked open, and Dieter stepped out, glancing around. His entourage had already disappeared down the hall, leaving him standing alone for once. He spotted her instantly.

“Still here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She forced a small smile, shrugging. “Didn’t get the job.”

Dieter nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well... my meeting sucked too. They’ve decided I’m officially the next Caligula.”

She snorted. “That bad?”

“Worse,” he said, shaking his head. He stood there for a beat, looking around the room, then back at her. “You know what? Screw this. Let’s go grab a drink.”

She blinked, surprised. “What?”

“I’m serious,” Dieter said, eyes glinting with that familiar mix of mischief and exhaustion. “I need a drink. You’re funny. Let’s go.”

She stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. But he wasn’t. She could see it in his eyes—he was serious.

“You buying?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dieter grinned. “I’m an Oscar winner. Drinks are always on me.”

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly stood up, tucking her portfolio under her arm. “Alright, Bravo. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

He smirked, leading the way. “Baby, you don’t know who you’re talking to.”

–

The black Audi’s engine purred as Dieter navigated the dim streets, his phone vibrating endlessly in the cupholder. Text after text, call after call—all from his team. They were probably losing their minds, wondering where he’d disappeared to. He glanced at the notifications, scoffing, and shoved the phone further out of reach.

“So,” she said, glancing at him from the passenger seat, “do you do this often?”

Dieter smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “Do what?”

“Pick up random strangers and ask them to grab drinks with you.”

He laughed, the sound low and lazy. “No, I mean, I pick up random strangers... just not usually for drinks.”

She chuckled. “Well, you should probably get better at vetting your strangers. I could be a serial killer, you know.”

Dieter shot her a quick glance, grinning. “Even better. Might actually enjoy being murdered by you.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “You really are a disaster, aren’t you?”

“Disaster, masochist, artist... depends on the day.” He glanced over at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’ve got a hell of a sense of humor, though. I like it.”

“And here I thought you were the sadist for thinking being murdered sounds fun.”

“Nope.” Dieter grinned. “Definitely a masochist. But don’t let that scare you off.”

She smirked, leaning back in her seat. “Too late. I’m terrified now.”

They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the city lights flickering through the tinted windows, casting shadows on Dieter’s face. It felt surreal, sitting in the passenger seat of Dieter Bravo’s car, heading to God-knows-where. But she didn’t feel uneasy. In fact, she felt strangely comfortable. It was weird how easily they’d fallen into this rhythm, like they’d known each other for years.

“So,” she asked, breaking the silence, “where exactly are we getting these drinks?”

Dieter’s smirk grew as he pulled into a parking garage, winding his way up to the fifth floor. “Here.”

“Here?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Dieter parked the car, and without another word, led her to the elevator. When the doors slid open, she was met with the sleek interior of his penthouse. Glass walls, dark furniture, and a view of the city that stretched on forever.

“Oh,” she said, stepping inside, taking it all in. “I thought we were going to a bar or something.”

Dieter chuckled, locking the door behind them. “Yeah, well, I’ve been told not to be seen in public too much for a while. You know... the whole ‘clean up the image’ thing.”

She turned, leaning against the counter, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Right. The scandal.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, that.”

She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. “So, should I be worried now? You could be the serial killer. I didn’t tell anyone where I’m going.”

Dieter grinned, moving toward the bar in the corner of the room. “Well, if I am, at least you’ll die with a good drink in your hand.”

Dieter’s penthouse bar looked like it had been pulled straight out of a high-end hotel. Polished wood, rows of bottles perfectly lined up, and a set of cocktail tools that would make any bartender proud.

He moved behind the bar with a familiar ease, pulling out a few bottles and setting them on the counter. “What’s your poison?”

“Vodka, Negroni... surprise me.”

“You got it.” He started mixing, moving around the bar like he’d done it a thousand times. She followed suit, sliding behind the bar beside him, the space between them feeling natural.

As they worked, they fell into a rhythm, like two old friends who’d done this countless times before. It was easy, the way they passed bottles back and forth, the clink of ice in glasses punctuating their conversation.

“So,” she said, shaking her drink, “you always this smooth with your guests, or am I special?”

Dieter smirked. “You’re special. I don’t let just anyone behind the bar.” He watched her expertly pour out the drink, nodding in approval. “You’ve got skills.”

She chuckled. “I bartend. Well, I used to, now I just work at a diner, but it counts.”

He laughed. “I used to bartend, too. Before all this.” He gestured vaguely to his sprawling penthouse. “I kinda miss it.”

“Miss what? Making drinks for drunk people at 2 a.m.?”

He shook his head, grinning. “No, the simplicity of it. The quiet moments before the rush. And, I guess, the people. You get to talk to all kinds of weirdos.”

She handed him the cocktail she’d just mixed, and he took a sip, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Not bad. Actually, really good.”

She smiled, taking a sip of his creation in return. “Yours isn’t half bad either, weirdo.”

He snorted as he finished drinking, “Looks like we’ve both still got it.”

They clinked their glasses, a quiet laugh shared between them.

–

They moved to the couches near the window, drinks in hand, and the night outside stretched on in glittering silence. It was one of those rare moments when the city was alive, but they were in their own little world, insulated by glass and a few too many drinks.

She stretched out on the couch, swirling the last of her drink in the glass. “So, this is what it’s like, huh? Being Dieter Bravo. A penthouse with a killer view and a bar that puts most cocktail lounges to shame.”

Dieter leaned back, grinning. “You sound impressed.”

She tilted her head. “I mean, it’s nice. But I’m not that impressed.”

He snorted. “Figures. I’ve gotta work harder to impress you, huh?”

“You said it, not me.”

There was a beat of silence before he broke it. “So, what’s the story? Why’re you still working at a diner when you’re clearly way too smart for that?”

She shrugged, taking a sip. “You make it sound like I had a choice. You think I want to be a waitress?”

“No, but...” He trailed off, clearly thinking. “I don’t know. You strike me as someone who should be... doing more.”

She arched an eyebrow. “More, like what? Writing fanfiction for Cliff Beasts 7?”

Dieter laughed, the sound filling the space. “God, no. Please, spare me.”

She grinned. “It’s not for lack of trying. I just... haven’t found my place yet. It’s not as easy as, ‘Hey, I’m talented, someone notice me.’” She shook her head, her voice growing quieter. “It’s a lot of failing. Mostly failing.”

Dieter nodded, leaning back in his seat, his expression more serious now. “I get that.”

“Do you?” she asked, her voice softer but still edged with sarcasm. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re pretty damn successful.”

Dieter looked at her, really looked at her this time. “You think success means you stop failing?”

She didn’t answer, watching him with curiosity.

He set his drink down and ran a hand through his hair. “You fail more when you’re successful. Trust me. People are just waiting for you to screw up. And when you do... they’re there to watch you burn.”

“You’re talking about the scandal.”

He nodded, taking another sip. “It’s not just the scandal. It’s everything. There’s always someone out there with a camera, waiting for you to mess up. They don’t care about what you do right. Just the crash.”

“So you’re saying you’re a slow-motion car crash?” she asked, her tone dry.

He smirked, nodding. “Exactly. A car crash people pay to watch.”

She stared at him for a moment, her mind working through his words. “That’s... kind of tragic.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his grin fading. “It is, isn’t it?”

They both went quiet, the weight of his words settling between them. But then she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You ever think about, I don’t know... getting out of the car? Stopping the crash?”

He barked a laugh, shaking his head. “And do what? Go back to bartending? Give up the Oscar for a shaker and ice?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, her voice light but serious underneath. “Or maybe just... do something real. Something that’s not about everyone else’s expectations.”

Dieter looked at her for a long moment, something in his expression shifting, like he was seeing her in a new light. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I do. Look, I might not be some hotshot writer, but I’ve always believed that what matters is the stuff that’s real. The art you make when no one’s watching. The stuff people don’t get to tear apart.”

“Yeah, but the problem is, everyone’s watching.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms. “So maybe that’s their problem.”

Dieter laughed, and this time it wasn’t the careless, guarded kind of laugh he usually gave. It was genuine. “You’ve got a point.”

“Of course I do. I’m always right.”

“Okay, Camus,” he teased, rolling his eyes. “You’re officially hired as my life coach.”

She leaned back, eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t know if you could afford me.”

Dieter snorted, swirling his drink. “How expensive are you?” he asked, playful but intrigued.

She paused, pretending to consider it for a moment. “Depends… do you personally know Gérard Depardieu?”

Dieter grimaced, raising an eyebrow as he took another sip. “Gérard Depardieu?” He repeated, blinking in confusion.

She nodded, downing the rest of her drink in two big gulps, the alcohol warming her throat. “What? You don’t know him?”

“I mean, I do, but wow...” He let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a chuckle. “That’s a... pretty weird choice.”

“Well, what can I say? I like them like that.” She shrugged, her expression completely serious as she set her glass down.

Dieter threw his head back, laughing harder than he had all night. It was loud, unfiltered, and completely genuine, the kind of laugh that came when he wasn’t performing for anyone.

“You’re a trip, you know that?” he said, still grinning as he wiped at his eyes. “Gérard Depardieu. Damn. Haven’t thought about that guy in years.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What, are you saying you don’t have weird celebrity crushes?”

He tilted his head, considering the question for a second. “I mean... I am the weird celebrity crush.”

She rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “How humble of you.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “You should hear the shit people say about me online. I’ve been everything from someone’s ‘gay awakening’ to someone’s inappropriate uncle.”

She snorted into her drink, barely containing her laughter. “Jesus. People are wild.”

Dieter smirked, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, c’mon. Who else you got? Who’s on your weird celebrity crush list? Lay it on me.”

She took a slow sip of her drink, savoring the moment, then said with a completely straight face, “Willem Dafoe.”

Dieter almost choked on his drink, eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at her like she’d just told him she was into cryptids. “Dafoe? Willem Dafoe?”

“Yeah,” she said, completely deadpan. “What’s wrong with Dafoe?”

He blinked, still recovering from nearly spitting his drink out. “I mean, nothing’s wrong with him, but... wow, that’s... unexpected.”

She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “I already shocked you with Depardieu. What were you expecting? Besides, Dafoe... he’s got range.” She gave him a wicked grin and added, “Plus, you know he’s freaky in bed.”

Dieter let out a loud bark of laughter, nearly doubling over. “Holy shit... you’re a freak. A true freak.”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh no, it’s definitely not a bad thing,” he said, still chuckling as he reached over to refill her glass. “I’ve met some freaks in my time, but this? This is different. I like it.”

She eyed the freshly poured drink, tilting her head. “Not sure if I should feel good about that comment.”

Dieter grinned, clinking his glass against hers. “You should. Trust me.”

They both chuckled, the easy, playful energy between them lightening the mood even more. But then Dieter leaned back, giving her an amused look. “You know, I actually know Willem.”

Her eyes widened, her curiosity piqued. “No way. You know him?”

Dieter nodded, taking a slow sip. “Yeah. Great guy. Not as intense as his characters would make you think. Really down to earth. Freaky in his own way, sure, but... I get it. I guess I see what you see in him.”

She smiled, leaning back. “Well, that’s comforting.”

Then she paused, glancing down at her drink before adding, “I actually met him once. Worked as an assistant on a theater production he starred in a couple of years ago.”

Dieter’s eyes lit up. “No way. Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” she said, nodding. “It was this small indie thing in New York. I wasn’t his assistant or anything, just part of the general crew, but I did get to work around him a bit. He’s... different, in a good way.”

Dieter leaned forward, intrigued. “Okay, now you’ve really got my attention. You’ve done PA work before?”

She shook her head, swirling the ice in her glass. “Not really. That was more of a part-time gig while I was in school. I applied for a real PA job a few years back, but it didn’t exactly go well.”

Dieter’s brow furrowed. “What happened?”

She sighed, her smirk fading as she stared down at her drink. “Well, I got all the way through the interviews, and then the celebrity—someone old-school—told me I was too chubby to work for them. Said I wouldn’t look good in photographs.”

Dieter’s face immediately twisted into a mix of shock and disgust. “Wait, what? Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” she said, the bitterness in her voice barely masked by the nonchalance she was trying to project. “I didn’t even bother applying for PA jobs after that. Figured it wasn’t worth the hassle.”

Dieter shook his head, clearly appalled. “That’s... Jesus. I mean, I get that people in this industry are eccentric as hell, but that’s way too much. Who the hell cares what you look like in photos? You’re supposed to be doing a job, not starring in the damn pictures.”

She shrugged, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, well, some people care. Guess I wasn’t the image they wanted.”

Dieter looked at her, his expression softening with empathy. “That’s seriously messed up. I’m sorry you went through that.”

She waved him off, smiling more genuinely this time. “It’s fine. Honestly, it was a while ago. I just stuck to writing and waitressing after that.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Dieter said, leaning forward, “that guy was a complete idiot. You’d make a damn good PA.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Thanks. But I think I’m done with that world.”

Dieter studied her for a moment, then raised his glass in a small toast. “Well, here’s to not being the kind of asshole who judges people by how they look in photos.”

She clinked her glass against his, smiling again. “I’ll drink to that.”

The conversation lingered in the air after their laughter died down, a comfortable silence settling over them. She leaned back against the couch, her gaze drifting to the massive windows overlooking the city, the skyline glittering like a distant dream.

“Gotta say,” she began, her voice soft but still playful, “this penthouse is... something else. It’s almost too perfect, though. Feels more like a set than a home.”

Dieter glanced around the room, smirking faintly. “Yeah, that’s because it’s not home.”

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “It’s not?”

He shook his head, swirling the last of his drink. “Nah. It’s just a place I own. I use it for... all the shit you probably hear about in the tabloids.”

She snorted, leaning in. “You mean the orgies and sex scandals?”

“Pretty much.” Dieter chuckled, but there was something more behind the laughter. His expression softened as he set the glass down on the table. “It’s not where I live. My real home is out in Sherman Oaks.”

She tilted her head, surprised. “Sherman Oaks?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “It’s an actual house. Big, built for a family, but too large for just me. I don’t bring anyone there. Not my... conquests, not my parties. Just me. I paint there, you know? I’ve got this studio in the back, and when the world gets too loud, that’s where I go. It’s the only place I feel... I don’t know, settled.”

Her eyes softened as she listened. She hadn’t expected this level of honesty from him, but the vulnerability in his voice was unmistakable. “That sounds... nice, actually. Quiet.”

“It is,” he agreed, his gaze distant, as if he could picture the house in his mind. “But the silence can get too loud sometimes. Especially now that I’m older. That’s when I come back here. The penthouse. To drown it out.”

She frowned slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “The silence?”

Dieter nodded, exhaling softly. “Yeah. You wouldn’t think silence could be so damn loud, but it is. Especially when you’re used to everything being... chaotic.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just watched him, the weight of his words sinking in. There was a loneliness there, one that no amount of parties, conquests, or tabloid headlines could fill. It wasn’t just about being alone—it was about being seen. About finding a place where the chaos didn’t define him.

She took a breath, her tone gentle but sure. “You don’t strike me as someone who likes the noise. Not really.”

Dieter blinked, turning his gaze back to her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, people see the chaos, the headlines, the scandals. But I don’t think that’s really you.” She paused, her voice steady. “You’ve got a whole world inside you that no one bothers to look at. You’re not just the guy who parties and ends up in the tabloids. You’re more than that.”

His eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe, or recognition. He opened his mouth to say something, but she continued before he could.

“They don’t see the parts of you that matter. The parts that create, that make something out of all this mess. The fact that you’ve got a studio and you paint—that tells me a lot. You’re more than just an actor, Dieter. You’re an artist. And not because you say so, but because you are.”

For a moment, Dieter just stared at her, as if her words had landed somewhere deeper than he’d expected. She was looking at him like no one had in years. Not like a star, not like the scandalized mess the world saw. She saw him. The real him.

His throat tightened, and suddenly, the air felt heavier. “You really think that?”

“I know it,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “You’re not just memorizing lines. You’re putting something into the world that most people don’t even take the time to understand. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real. It’s real, Dieter. And it matters.”

He blinked, the familiar burn of tears stinging behind his eyes. It was strange—he hadn’t felt this exposed in so long. The vulnerability, the rawness of being seen for more than just the surface.

A tear slipped down his cheek, slow and steady. He swiped at it quickly, but another followed. It wasn’t a sobbing mess, no dramatic breakdown. Just a quiet release, like the weight of everything he’d been carrying finally had somewhere to go.

“Damn,” he muttered, laughing softly through the tears. “You’re really messing me up here.”

She smiled, nudging him gently with her elbow. “You needed to hear it.”

He wiped his eyes, still grinning despite the tears. “Guess I did.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The silence between them wasn’t heavy or awkward. It was comfortable, filled with an understanding that went deeper than words. In the quiet of the penthouse, with the city lights twinkling in the background, Dieter felt something he hadn’t in a long time.

Peace.

But of course, Dieter couldn’t let the moment just sit there. He leaned over slightly, raising an eyebrow as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “So... is this the part where we kiss?”

She burst out laughing, her head falling back as she clutched her sides. “Oh my God, Dieter, you’re such an ass.”

For the first time in a long time, Dieter didn’t feel even a twinge of offense at being laughed at. In fact, her reaction made him laugh, too—a deep, real laugh that didn’t feel performative. It was just them, laughing like idiots in the middle of a moment that could’ve been serious, but wasn’t.

He shrugged, grinning. “Hey, had to shoot my shot.”

She shook her head, still giggling as she nudged him. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me,” he teased.

“Debatable,” she shot back, smirking. “But that was not the move, Bravo.”

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, still laughing. “Alright, alright, no kiss. Got it.”

She rolled her eyes, the amusement still lingering in her expression. “Seriously, though. You’re an ass.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Dieter said, smirking. But beneath the joking, there was a warmth in his eyes, a softness that hadn’t been there before. He liked this—being around someone who could take his nonsense and throw it right back at him, without missing a beat.

–

They had been hanging out for days—Dieter laying low like his team had asked, and her finding herself more and more wrapped up in his world. It was easy with him. The lazy mornings that bled into afternoons, the spontaneous outings, the hours spent talking about nothing and everything. It was like living in a bubble, where the real world and all its mess didn’t exist.

But it couldn’t last forever.

They were lounging in his penthouse, another aimless afternoon with the TV buzzing in the background, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“So,” Dieter began, his tone casual, but there was an edge of hesitation in it. “I’ve been thinking...”

She looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. That sounds dangerous.”

He chuckled, but there was a nervousness in his smile. “No, I mean... I’ve been thinking about you. Us, I guess.”

She frowned slightly, sitting up a bit straighter. “What do you mean?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze for a moment. “I think I... I really like you. And I want to stay friends, you know? If you’re cool with it.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Of course he liked her—they got along too well not to. But she knew what had to happen next.

She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “I don’t think we can keep doing this.”

Dieter’s face fell, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait, what? Why not?”

“I can’t afford to stay in LA anymore,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’m going home. To my mom’s and stepdad’s. The diner job just doesn’t cover rent or utilities, and figuring things out in this city isn’t really feasible for me right now.”

Dieter stared at her, the words slowly sinking in. His expression shifted from confusion to something deeper—sadness, maybe even panic. “You’re... leaving?”

She nodded, trying to keep it together. “Yeah. I’ve got no choice.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at her like she’d just ripped the floor out from under him. Then, true to form, Dieter went into full dramatic mode.

“Are you serious?” he groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Like, ever.”

She laughed, despite herself. “Dieter, stop.”

“No, seriously,” he continued, flopping onto the couch like a petulant child. “You’re leaving me to fend for myself in this godforsaken city, and for what? Your mom’s house in the middle of nowhere? This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

She rolled her eyes, amused but touched by how much this seemed to affect him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Where’s your loyalty?” he muttered dramatically. “I thought we were in this together.”

She snorted. “I didn’t realize hanging out with you was a lifelong commitment.”

Dieter sat up suddenly, his eyes lighting up as if he’d just had the greatest idea of all time. “Wait a second...”

She eyed him warily. “What?”

“You still need a job, right?”

Her eyebrow arched. “...Yes?”

“I still need a PA,” he said, the excitement building in his voice. “My team hasn’t found anyone, and let’s face it—they’re probably going to stick me with some lifeless corporate robot.”

She blinked, not expecting this. “Wait, are you offering me a job?”

“Hell yes, I am,” he said, grinning like a kid with a new toy. “You’d be perfect. I mean, you know me. You get me. And you’re already here half the time anyway. Why not make it official?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. “I don’t know, Dieter. It feels like... I don’t know, like you’re just offering it because you feel bad.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “No, I’m offering it because I need you. And not in a weird way, okay? I mean, yeah, it’s a job, but it’s also more than that. I trust you. And I don’t trust a lot of people.”

She bit her lip, still uncertain. “Yeah, but it comes with a paycheck, right? That’s gonna make me feel... really dirty.”

Dieter laughed, leaning back into the couch. “Oh, come on. It’s a legit offer. And I’m paying you well, so you’ll get used to feeling dirty real quick.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“Seriously,” he continued, his tone softening again. “Think about it. It’s not charity. It’s not a handout. I really need your company, and I think you need this too.”

She exhaled, staring at him for a moment. “I’ll... think about it.”

A few days later, she was back at the penthouse, this time with Dieter’s manager, his lawyer, and Dieter himself, all sitting around the sleek kitchen island. It felt surreal.

The manager went over the details of the contract, but it was hard to focus on the specifics when her mind was spinning with how fast everything was happening.

“And, of course,” the manager added sternly, “we have to include the no-fucking clause. If you two get involved, it’s not only grounds for termination but also blacklisting.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, looking slightly offended. “Seriously? That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

She snorted, waving it off. “It’s fine, Bravo. I don’t think you’d want to fuck me anyway.”

He frowned, almost hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The manager chuckled, shaking his head. “He fucks anything that moves.”

She furrowed her brows briefly, her face showing a flash of disgust at the comment, but she kept her mouth shut. This wasn’t the time to start an argument with his team. Still, she couldn’t shake the sour taste the comment left in her mouth.

Dieter noticed her reaction and shot his manager a look, but the moment passed quickly as the lawyer handed her the contract to sign.

Once the papers were signed, it was official. She was now Dieter Bravo’s new assistant.

After the contract signing, they were back in the quiet of the penthouse. She stretched her arms out, feeling a mixture of excitement and disbelief at the day’s events. Dieter leaned against the counter, still processing it all too, and for a moment, the two of them just stood there in silence.

Then she clapped her hands together, breaking the moment. “Okay, Bravo, I’m treating you to dinner.”

Dieter blinked, confusion crossing his face. “Wait, what? You’re treating me?”

She grinned, nodding. “Yeah, to celebrate. You know, new job and all.”

He hesitated, raising an eyebrow. “You just signed a contract. You shouldn’t be spending money on me.”

She waved him off, rolling her eyes. “Take a chill pill. I just landed a sick new job with a really dirty paycheck. I’m excited, let me have this.”

Dieter chuckled, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “I’ve taken way too many pills in my life. Not sure I remember which one the chill pill is.”

She burst out laughing, grabbing her jacket. “Well, then this will be the antidote. C’mon, we’re getting Five Guys.”

Dieter’s grin grew wider, his eyes lighting up. “Damn, baby, you know I can’t say no to Five Guys.”

She shot him a smirk. “Then let’s go.”

They drove in Dieter’s car, windows heavily tinted, cruising through the LA streets as the sun dipped below the skyline. They grabbed their order from the drive-thru window and found an empty parking lot, parking under the dim glow of a streetlight.

Dieter reclined his seat all the way back, pushing the front seats to give them more space to lounge. She did the same, their legs stretched out as they unwrapped their burgers.

“So,” he mumbled around a mouthful of fries, “what now?”

She shrugged, her voice muffled as she stuffed more fries into her mouth. “Idunno.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the radio playing softly in the background, the quiet hum of the city far off in the distance.

Dieter glanced at her sideways, studying her face. “You seem a little... off.”

She paused mid-chew, looking at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, biting into his burger. “I dunno. Just felt like something’s been bugging you since we left the penthouse.”

She exhaled, setting her burger down, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Well... your manager pissed me off. Big time.”

Dieter stopped chewing, his eyes widening a little. “What? Why?”

“That comment he made,” she said, rolling her eyes, “about you humping everything that moves. It was gross. And unnecessary.”

Dieter’s face reddened, the blush creeping up his neck as he rubbed at it, a little embarrassed. “Yeah, uh... that’s just how he is.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

He chuckled awkwardly, setting his burger down. “I mean, he wasn’t wrong. You’ve heard the stories, read the articles, right?”

She stared at him for a beat, then sighed. She knew he wasn’t trying to defend his manager, and in a way, she found that endearing—his loyalty to people even after everything they’d said about him. All the rumors, the scandals, the affairs. But she tucked that thought away for another time.

“That’s not the point,” she said, shaking her head. “As someone who works with you, the first thing your manager should be doing is protecting you—even from your own team.”

Dieter blinked, her words hitting harder than he expected. He felt something crack open in his chest. She wasn’t wrong. And hearing her say it so plainly made him realize just how much he’d let slide because of loyalty. Because of fear.

He smiled softly, biting into his burger, his voice quiet. “Thanks for saying that.”

She shrugged, offering him a small smile in return. “It’s true.”

Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned over, wiggling her eyebrows. “Besides, you haven’t tried to fuck me yet, so I don’t think what your manager said was true.”

Dieter choked on his soda, laughing and coughing at the same time. “Jesus Christ,” he wheezed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

She grinned, leaning back into her seat. “What? Am I not fuckable enough for Dieter Bravo?”

He immediately shook his head, his voice firm. “No, baby–you’re...fuck– you’re hot. Like, really hot. And I’m an idiot for not jumping you the second I met you.”

She snorted, clearly amused. “But?”

Dieter sighed, running a hand through his hair, his voice quieter but more grounded now. “Look, if we hadn’t had that first conversation, that night in the waiting room... I probably would’ve tried to sleep with you.”

She gasped dramatically, her eyes widening in mock horror. “Excuse me? What made you think I’d even want to sleep with you?”

Dieter burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Oh, c’mon, I’ve got ways. If I really wanted to, I could have charmed you into it.”

She snorted, shoving another fry into her mouth. “Yeah, right. You can’t charm your way into everyone’s bed, Bravo.”

Dieter stared at her, deadpan, raising an eyebrow. “Uh... yes, I can.”

They both broke into laughter, the moment light but laced with a shared understanding. Once their laughter died down, he leaned back, the humor fading slightly as he spoke again, this time more serious.

“But seriously,” he continued, his voice softer now, “I didn’t want to cross that line with you. Because... you’re different.”

She glanced at him, curious now, the playful energy between them simmering down as he opened up.

“I’m a messy person,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the steering wheel, fingers idly tracing the edges. “In every sense of the word. My life, my relationships—they don’t end well. And I’ve ruined... too many things that mattered. I can’t ruin this. I won’t.”

She tilted her head, watching him closely. “Why do you think it would ruin things?”

He took a deep breath, the vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he finally met her gaze. “Because when I sleep with someone, I lose track of... what’s real and what’s not. It always starts out fine, but I mess things up. I make it complicated, and then it all falls apart. And I don’t want that to happen with you.”

She studied him for a moment, seeing the weight behind his words, the sincerity he rarely showed to anyone. This wasn’t the over-the-top, scandal-filled Dieter Bravo the world knew. This was a man who was genuinely afraid of ruining something good.

“Wow,” she muttered, trying to break the heaviness. “So you’re saying I was basically a goner if we hadn’t talked that first night?”

He chuckled, giving her a teasing grin. “Oh, absolutely.”

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You really are full of yourself.”

“No, I’m just honest,” he said with a playful smirk. “But really, I don’t want to just fuck this up. You get me, more than anyone has in a long time. And I don’t want to lose that because I was... impulsive.”

She looked at him for a long moment, their earlier banter giving way to something deeper. It was clear that he meant every word, and it made sense in a way she hadn’t expected. Dieter Bravo might have been a disaster in relationships, but he was choosing not to be a disaster with her. And that meant something.

“Well,” she said, her smile returning as she reached for another fry, “that’s good to know. I mean, you’re still a complete disaster, but you’re my kind of disaster.”

Dieter’s grin widened, the tension finally easing as he leaned back in his seat. “I’ll take it.”

She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then added with a smirk, “Besides, now I’m legally being paid to not fuck you.”

He laughed, throwing his head back in genuine amusement. “And I’m legally paying you to not fuck me.”

She nodded sagely. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal if you ask me.”

Dieter chuckled, the heaviness of the earlier conversation replaced by their usual playful energy. “Yeah, it’s working out pretty well so far.”

They both sat there, comfortable in the aftermath of the conversation, knowing that while the chemistry between them was undeniable, the friendship was what mattered most. And neither of them was willing to risk it, even if they joked about it.

They sat in the car, the remnants of their Five Guys feast scattered on the console between them. The night had slipped into a comfortable quiet, the kind that came from hours of laughter, honest conversation, and greasy burgers. Dieter stretched, glancing over at her with a lazy grin.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, wiping his hands on a napkin. “You heading home now?”

She nodded, finishing the last of her fries. “Yeah. Gotta pack up my stuff and get ready for the big move.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Right. Moving in with me. Never thought I’d reach this point in my life where a woman’s moving in with me... and I legally can’t fuck her.”

She snorted, shaking her head as she leaned back into her seat. “Welcome to adulthood, Bravo. Full of responsibilities and boundaries.”

Dieter’s grin widened, leaning a little closer. “So, about this moving in thing—are you planning on, like, wearing layers of clothing at all times? Because I don’t need to make this harder for myself than it already is.”

She shot him a look, deadpan. “Harder for yourself?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know what I mean.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. “Listen, I promise to be fully covered in the ugliest, most unflattering pajamas you’ve ever seen. Think, like, thermal underwear, oversized sweaters, maybe a balaclava if I’m feeling extra considerate.”

Dieter threw his head back laughing, slapping the dashboard. “Jesus Christ, I don’t know if I should be grateful or terrified.”

“Both,” she said with a smirk, grabbing the last fry from the bag and popping it into her mouth.

Dieter leaned back, sighing contentedly. “I still can’t believe it though. I’m actually gonna live with a woman. And she’s not some wild fling, but an assistant I’m paying not to fuck. Talk about a plot twist.”

She laughed, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Well, you better get used to it. I’ll be back in the morning with all my crap.”

Dieter grinned, clearly amused by the whole situation. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she said, flashing him a smile. “Bright and early. So you better get your beauty sleep.”

He chuckled, looking at her fondly. “I’ll try.”

She reached for the door handle, pausing for a moment before looking back at him, her tone soft but teasing. “Try not to miss me too much tonight, alright?”

Dieter winked. “No promises.”

She stepped out of the car, waving as she walked toward her building. “See you tomorrow, Bravo.”

He watched her go, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, leaning back into the seat. “See you tomorrow.”