#two conversations with them and then decided this was ‘better’
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wanted to add some thoughts on this thread. i've seen a lot of responses from professors and educators who care quite a bit for their students and create space for them to be able to put effort toward understanding things--and this latter perspective synergizes with being against using AI for essays at school. i wanted to add some more thoughts onto this with the context of: getting to work in teaching and learning shops at universities, i've found a huge variance between the care and patience that professors have for their students with essay-style assignments.
higher ed seems to be becoming quite interested in checking for ai-based plagiarism in essays (might be happening in k12 spaces too, i'm just not familiar with it as much). turnitin, the company that does the whole plagiarism checking software for schools and colleges, now has an ai detection tool that clients can purchase (that also, in our testing, pulls up far more false positives and false negatives than what they advertise to clients). the company always publicly claims that the turnitin similarity checker (this is the main "plagiarism detection" tool) is not exactly a watertight tool, it is a tool that can help with starting conversations about academic integrity with students, and it needs to be paired with instructor expertise on the topic. this ends up conflicting with a common-enough attitude among some faculty that turnitin is getting a perfect match on whether a student has plagiarized or not. combine this move in higher ed with:
depending on how a course is run, the fact of activities being graded in those courses can add a great deal of pressure on students that may not be conducive to learning. i think Jesse Stommel has some compelling stuff to say here through his concept of ungrading: he notes how grading systems have become increasingly comparative and numerical over time, he notes that grades in and of themselves aren't great incentives for learning or the best indicators of feedback in learning, grade-based education tends to favor (or at least be more amenable to) the banking model of education over critical pedagogy--and he backs this up with in-class experiments and experience. i've noticed that creative writing programs have often been at the forefront of finding alternatives to grading systems that are more supportive for their students (Asao Inoue talks about labor-based grading contracts as more equitable than grading systems that connect grades to an evaluation of quality, though I do think even this system could cut out the grading component altogether and still retain its interventional value).
these two points can lead to the following: students often have to do two tasks in an essay being graded: a) write an essay in and of itself, with its intent of critical thinking, effort, analysis; and b) get a good grade, because regardless of the actual material efficacy of grades in getting future work outside of the university (this will cash out differently sometimes based on the field you're working in as well), there will be students who feel a pressure to get good grades (for a variety of reasons). multiply one essay in a course with taking 4 or 5 more classes (common in undergrad) and working a job at the same time (common at my alma mater at the very least), and we're creating a recipe for students to feel absolutely unsupported in the academic environment to actually work on practicing analysis without additional outside pressure.
i think the current conditions across a lot of academia help create conditions for students to use cheating as a strategy to get a better grade: "i can either put all the extra work in to doing this right and possibly get a bad grade anyway, depending on how my professor is deciding to grade the quality of essays; or given that i have a shift to run to after this and family to take care of at home, i can see if there's a quicker solution to take, even if that could also have a risk of ruining my grade. what's worth it, to me?" and in response to this, academic integrity offices will start wondering how to discourage students from cheating, and in happy and hawkish response, academic integrity software companies can get new product contracts on their ai detection tools, that instructors, in their variance of usage of plagiarism tools, can use to either have conversations with students about work in the best case scenario, or punish students through grading them poorly in the worst.
i dunno. i am a philosopher at the end of the day--in my experience with the kind of writing philosophy demands, i don't think that AI writing passes muster in the first place (i imagine this is the case with... most any field that involves any amount of creative writing). but i just want to keep in mind that in my experience working at the university space, for every professor who is genuinely interested in their students' learning and who does everything within their capacity to set them up for success, there is a professor who, regardless of interest, generates a great deal of distress for their students by dispensing with punitive measures in the learning space.
i think that this is likely a reason why some teaching and learning shops have tended to build guidelines for how to use or discuss AI writing with students instead of recommending faculty to discourage its use by students altogether: even though i think a shop should ideally be able to recommend the latter, that doesn't do a lot for the reactionary portion of a faculty community who will consider the shop backwards for making such a recommendation, then continue on with teaching practices that are harmful to students' learning and well-being. (i think the defensive position also comes from not having any deciding power over the business contracts for AI software happening with leadership doing kingdom-building far away from the rest of us [unionize, anyone?], where if there's an evaluation that there's nothing the institution can do to prevent AI usage, then it makes sense to have a damage mitigation strategy to do the least harm to students as possible).
i would have been lucky to have any of the teachers on this thread as my own when i was going through undergrad. unfortunately, what i faced far more were instructors who didn't care very much--either from being tenure-track researchers who weren't particularly committed to teaching, or from (understandably) reacting against being overworked adjunct lecturers who didn't have the capacity to care as much as they should have. what i faced in undergrad quite a bit, barring some notable exceptions here and there, were instructors who didn't care anyway whether i could think critically about something or put effort into writing about a certain perspective. what i faced in undergrad, primarily so, were instructors who were just checking if i could say the correct thing back to them in the correct way--and instructors who would punish me or my peers for failing to do this, no matter how much work they put into an assignment.
if universities as an institution want students to not use AI for essays (something that i'm generally aligned with), they need to give adequate resources to faculty and students alike to be able to focus on essays without fear of academic punishment and without generated lack of capacity from overwork. (but of course, universities is an abstraction here--faculty/staff unions and student worker unions do push for those resources, because university leadership isn't otherwise interested in granting them, because it's not particularly profitable to care about the conditions of learning.)
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Coppélia
Chapter 7 - The Lion's Den
Chapter Summary - Y/N Is urged to meet with some of the other women involved in high society to gain some close friends and she decides to drag Mia with her. Y/N starts to realize the boys may not be as friendly as they seem.
warnings: mentions of murder, Seonghwa injures reader (MDNI)
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It had been almost two weeks since I had started living with the boys. Yunho and Jongho were still pretty stand-offish, not really bothering to make conversation unless absolutely necessary. Yeosang however, had gotten better.
I figured he was shy from the start, but after I thanked him for filling my wardrobe he started asking simple questions like how my day was. It wasn't a lot, but it was progress.
Hongjoong and San had backed off a little, not actively seeking me out like the remaining three. Mingi, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung were a lot more social, Wooyoung would come and find me the second they'd come home during the workweek to tell me everything before I left for the Society, at least what he could tell me anyway.
Seonghwa's gifts hadn't stopped, however, they had broadened from simple Gardenias (Though he kept fresh ones on the dresser in my room for me). Mingi often played piano after dinner, sometimes, he'd play something from the show or past shows just to see me dance.
He always smiled so brightly when I would.
Seonghwa was the one who suggested I go to a ladies brunch over dinner. I'd glance around at the others who made no objection.
"Ladies Brunch?" I ask.
"All the women that our allies are involved with get together once a month for a ladies brunch. You should go." Seonghwa explains, bringing his fork to his mouth.
"Are there many?" I ask.
"Normally there's around 10 or 11, depending on who's available," Seonghwa says. "You could bring a friend if you like, maybe Mia?"
I nod at the mention of Mia. It would be good to see her again and catch her up on everything in person. Besides meeting other women, hopefully around my age, would probably do me some good. Maybe some of them could explain what the men actually did.
And that's why I agreed.
"You think any of them are like... Murderers?" Mia asks me as we sit in her family's limousine. "I mean, they're involved in families known to be involved in the mafia so.."
She wasn't wrong. After I had invited her, Mia had one of Marks's friends dig up some information about some of the women we'd be meeting. Jeno Lee was always pretty good at that.
Kazuko Takanashi was the fiancé to the CEO of the SVT Association, Choi Seungcheol. A large modeling and fashion company much like the one my father owned, their rival if you will. She was beautiful and worked as a model for their more expensive pieces. I assumed her husband-to-be would only allow it as such.
Park Minji was born into high society, her father running a car company. She was dating one of the leaders of SKZ Foundation, a military company, Seo Changbin. She didn't do much, but there were rumors that she was an excellent hacker.
Those were the only ones I could remember from the list, but I knew there were so many more. I recognized some of the companies, a little surprised some of them were still running.
We arrived at the club we were to meet at, one owned by the husband of one of the women we were to meet, Nari.
"Mia, don't say anything rude," I warn, getting out of the car.
"I'm not promising anything." She quips, following me.
We head inside, it's empty aside from the small group of maybe six women sitting at a long table, laughing and drinking already. I glance at Mia who looks back at me, gesturing with her head to go towards them.
I hesitate before approaching slowly. Kazuko was there, and Minji too. They looked so much friendlier in person. I clear my throat, causing one I didn't recognize to look up. She offers me a kind smile before standing.
"You must be Y/N!" She says, approaching the two of us. "And you're Mia Hua right?" Mia nods in response.
"I'm Kate. Come sit." She says, gesturing to some empty seats. "It's just us today, the others couldn't make it."
I take a seat beside Minji, her dyed blonde hair shimmering in the overhead light. Mia sits on my other side, shifting in her seat. Kate starts to introduce everyone, and my memory comes back to me; Minji, Jaehwa, Asami, Kazuko, Liv, and Kate herself. Easy enough.
I knew Asami was the oldest based on what I remembered. She was born into high society much like Minji however, she runs her own company, a tech company alongside a friend of hers, Taeyong.
Jaehwa was the younger sister of Nari, I knew she had joined the military for two years because she 'wanted to scratch an itch'. I could tell it paid off, her tan skin and muscular frame seemed oddly attractive.
Liv was a part of the TBZ Association, a law firm. I could tell she was studying me the minute I sat down, her eyes unmoving and unblinking as they stared me down. Like a predator hunting prey.
"So, ATZ Corp chose you huh?" Jaehwa asks, her voice deep. "I heard you're a dancer."
"Ballerina." I correct, noticing the quirk of Asami's eyebrow. "I'm a Ballerina for the Ballet Society."
Kazuko takes a sip of her drink. "I went to one of your shows, you're quite good." She says, glancing at me. There was something comforting about her words, yet I kept my guard up.
"What's the show?" Minji asks, her Australian accent thick.
"Coppèlia I'm pretty sure." Kazuko answers, leaning back in her seat.
"Never heard of it." Jaehwa says, elbow now propped up on the table.
I listen to the women talk. They seem friendly enough, and at least three of them are anyway. Asami looks at me before finally speaking.
"Something you wanna say?" She asks, her eyes boaring into mine. "If you have questions you can ask."
A part of me felt relieved she'd said that, opening a door for all the questions I'd had piled up to spill out. Kate gave me a reassuring look, nodding slightly for me to speak.
"I'm... It's been a long time since I've been in this life." I start. "It's all so different now.. And they guys won't tell me anything no matter how much I ask."
"It was like that for me too." Kazuko says. "I was born in the bronx. When I met Seungcheol, none of his friends or even him would tell me anything about what they did even though I grew up on the other end of it all."
I listened to her. These women had come from all different parts of society. Some are working their way up, and some are fighting to survive even now. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea.
"When Seungcheol asked me to marry him, I told him no unless he told me everything." Kazuko continues. "Eventually, he caved when he realised I was serious."
"So I threaten them?" I ask.
"Definitely don't do that!" Liv laughs, finally speaking. Her voice was sweet. Maybe she was just shy. "ATZ don't take nicely to threats."
"So what do I do?" I ask.
"Ask us." Kate says, reaching a hand over. "We won't hide anything from you."
I nod, taking a deep breath before glancing at Mia, who seems a little too invested now.
"Be honest with me. Do they hurt people?"
"Obviously, it's the mafia." Asami says. "We have to kill to keep those close to us safe. Greed is evil, and those who let it consume them will always try to take what isn't theirs."
I stare at Asami, and the bluntness in her tone causes goosebumps to coat my skin.
"The boys kill, yes, but most of the time it's business or for protection reasons. There's some corrupt companies out there, ones that kill the weak for sport. Like Belluxe." Kazuko spits, my head snaps to her hefore quickly composing myself. My fathers company? Killing for sport?
"After everything that happened with Aurora, I'm surprised they decided to let another one in." Jaehwa says, causing me to perk up at the name.
"You knew her?" I ask.
"Of course we did." Liv says, her eyes softening slightly. "I miss her sometimes... She was always a voice of reason."
"She was a fool." Asami says. "Stuck her nose in something she shouldn't have. That's what got her killed."
My blood ran cold at Asami's words. Her tone was so indifferent, like she was angry.
Aurora was killed? Because she was investigating something? But what?
"Asami!" Kate scolds.
"It's the truth!" Asami barks. "Nothing would have happened if she'd just-" Asami stops herself and lets out a sigh before standing. "Excuse me." She mutters, heading off in the direction of the bathroom.
"You'll have to excuse her." Minji says quietly to me. "She cares a lot more then she lets on."
"Aurora was killed?" Mia asks. I'd spoken to her about Aurora the night of my first day living with ATZ. She was just as curious as I was.
"She was investigating some suspicious activity even when Hongjoong told her not to." Jaehwa says. "She got too far in and ended up getting herself killed."
"What was the suspicious activity?" I ask, glancing at Kazuko.
"Do you remember the Cobra?" She asks us. Mia and I nod. The Cobra was a serial killer who caused some grief to a lot of businesses years back. He'd kill runners, undercover workers, and sometimes even leaders in gruesome ways to get his message across. His tell; all of his victims were found with poison in their system.
"But The Cobra disappeared when we were kids?" Mia questions.
"He came back. Briefly." Kate says.
"Well, there were rumours." Liv corrects. "That's what Aurora was investigating."
Aurora was trying to catch a serial killer and was killed when she got too close? Why didn't the boys tell me this? Was there more to it?
"Enough about Aurora." Jaehwa murmers as Asami returns.
The topic shifted rather quickly.
It was almost 6pm when I returned back to the estate. Seonghwa was sitting in the living room, waiting for my return.
"How was it?" He asks, not looking up from the book he was reading, Frankenstein.
"Enlightening," I answer, my tone indifferent. I was upset at them. I'd learned more from women I'd just met in a few hours than the 8 men I had been living with for almost 2 weeks.
The girls had told me all about their work, giving me some idea of what was going on in the basement as well as outside of the house that I probably would never see.
Seonghwa recognizes my tone and sighs, marking his page in his book before setting it down on the coffee table. He stands, moving in front of me now, staring down at me with a cold look.
"How much do you know?"
"Enough," I answer, staring back up at him, I hear footsteps thud to a stop behind me, whoever it was listening closely. "Funny how I can trust complete strangers more than the men I'm supposed to be with."
"If you don't trust us, why did you come back?" The voice, Hongjoong, says from behind me. I don't jump at his voice, only turning to look at him. I had nowhere else to go. The answer was as simple as that.
On the second day of my stay, I woke up to all my things from my old apartment tucked away in the corner of my room. Wooyoung had gone to collect my things and speak to my landlord that night, at least that's what he said.
"You know why," I say, my blood boiling at the teasing grin on his face. Here we go again, being laughed at. Maybe I should have stayed at Mia's tonight.
"Dinners ready!" Wooyoung calls out from the other room. "Is Y/N home?" He asks, poking his head out from behind the connecting archway.
"You could have told me she was killed." I blurt out, my gaze on Wooyoung but my words are aimed at all of them. "Did you think I couldn't handle it?" I say, looking up at Seonghwa once again.
"They told you?" Seonghwa asks, his voice low.
"Yes, because unlike you they recognize that I can handle myself." I snap, poking his chest. Big mistake. He snatches my wrist, gripping it tightly. My eyes widen and I try and pull away, Hongjoong and Wooyoung make no move to step in.
"You listen to me," Seonghwa says, his voice coming out as a growl. The gentleman I knew was long gone now. There was something sinister in his eyes as he looked down at me, the size difference suddenly feeling a lot larger the tighter he held my wrist. "You won't ask any more questions about what happened. You will not go investigating it yourself and you certainly will not ask others. That includes our housekeepers." He says quietly, his voice low and threatening.
I glance at Wooyoung, his face void of emotion as he watches from the archway. Shit.
"If I find out you have, you'll never step foot from this house ever again. Say goodbye to Mia, the Society, everything." He warns.
"Seonghwa." Hongjoong finally speaks up. Seonghwa's knuckles are white from how tightly he was gripping my wrist. "Let her go. She's gotten the hint." Hongjoong says, taking a step forward.
Seonghwa lets go and I pull back, bumping into Hongjoong. I jump away from him, backing up into the foyer. I stare back at them with wide eyes, clutching my wrist as they stare back at me. A sick feeling overcomes me as I mutter out three words before scurrying up the stairs.
"I'm not hungry."
Mingi had come upstairs to check on me a few hours later. He carried a plate of food in his hands and his expression adorned a pouty expression. Surprisingly, I let him in.
He sets the plate of food down on my dresser before taking a seat on the loveseat by the window.
"Wooyoung told us what happened." He says, holding his hand out and glancing down at my wrist. I hesitate for a moment before letting him take it. His touch was gentle as he examined the light bruise, his eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't think Seonghwa would ever hurt you.."
"Yeah, me too." I huff, looking down at the ground. "I guess I was wrong to trust you all so quickly."
"Trust is human nature, it's who we gift it to that could come with consequences." He says softly, moving his hand from my wrist and holding my hand in his. I feel some butterflies flutter in my stomach as he does. "I'll beat him up for you tomorrow if you want." He says, causing me to snort.
"There's no need." I laugh, squeezing his hand which makes his eyes sparkle. At least I still had Mingi. I let out a soft sigh, moving to sit beside him. "Why are you guys so hesitant to tell me about her?" I ask, staring at the floor.
"Some of us want to," Mingi says honestly. "But it's a sensitive topic." He adds.
"I understand that," I say. "But that doesn't mean I'm not curious. Why can't I look into her death? I know it has something to do with The Cobra." I look at him and he looks at me.
"Why do you say that like it's personal?" He asks, his deep voice breaking through the brief silence.
I hesitate again for a moment. "Because it is," I say. Maybe if I'm honest with him, he'll be honest with me. But I didn't want to tell him the whole story, it hurt too much to even think about.
Then the realization hit me.
That's why they didn't want to talk about Aurora. It was too personal. It brought feelings to the surface that they wanted to forget about. It made sense now, and a feeling of guilt settled in my stomach.
Mingi must have picked up on my conflict of emotions, as he cups my cheek to bring me back to him.
"I won't stop you from finding answers." He says softly. "But that doesn't mean the others won't try. And I can't protect you if that happens."
I nod in response. It's like he knew already, my mind went back to the night we first met. He'd known I grew up in high society, did he know what happened to Chaluai?
"Thank you," I whisper, our faces not resisting the magnetic pull.
"For what?" He murmurs, not pulling away as he glances down at my lips.
"For understanding," I say as our noses brush.
Then, our lips met. The kiss was featherlike like he was scared to hurt me any further. When we pull away, he rests his forehead on mine briefly.
"Give them time." He says softly, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. "They'll stop taking you for granted eventually."
With that, he stands, pulling away from me slowly as if a part of him was telling him to stay.
I watch him as he heads towards the door, offering him a goodnight before he shuts the door behind him, leaving me in the silence of my thoughts once again.
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#kpop#ateez#ateez fic#hongjoong#jongho#mingi#san#seonghwa#wooyoung#yeosang#yunho#ateez ot8#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez smut#atz#atiny#golden hour part 2#ice on my teeth#ateez mafia au#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez seonghwa#ateez hongjoong#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho
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The Thanksgiving Departure {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 14.7k
Warnings: Vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, family issues, heartbreak, alcohol, Dieter being a dick, revelations of infidelity, dishonesty, pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of breeding kinks, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex
Comments: Married to Dieter Bravo, Thanksgiving turns into the worst day of the year when he abandons you to go to Hollywood for his big break. Never divorcing you and deciding to stroll back into your life on Thanksgiving again years later
Happy Thanksgiving!
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
Dieter sighs as he stares at his script. Another community theater project that he took when he got rejected from his latest audition for Law & Order. He rubs his forehead as the words blur together and he doesn't know how much longer he can do this. He wants to be successful. He wants to be famous...and rich. He can't do that in the middle of fucking nowhere. His hometown is picture perfect. Pumpkin patches in the fall, Christmas parade during December, flower show during spring. Town festivals and even a fucking gazebo in the town square. It's like a movie set but it's not the movie set he wants to be on. His entire life he's dreamed of Hollywood. His dad, before he died when Dieter was ten, showed him the greats. John Wayne. Cary Grant, Marlon Brando. He wants to be like them. A leading man. But he can't do that without going to L.A. "Hey baby." You coo as you walk into the kitchen, frowning when you see his script, "you want me to run lines?" You offer, leaning over to grab the papers, and he growls, shoving the papers across the table.
"No. No. I don't want to run fucking lines." His tone makes your eyebrows raise and you back away until he reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "I'm sorry. Shit. I- I didn't get the part. The Law & Order part." He admits, feeling sorry for himself.
“Oh baby.” You soften slightly, knowing how much Dieter hates rejection. He wants so badly to be famous and you support him, but it’s honestly not realistic for where you live. Still, you encourage him to pursue his dreams. “They are missing out.” You step closer and wrap your arms around him to give him a hug from behind. “You are the best actor and would have made the show the highest rated episode of the season.”
Dieter huffs, shaking his head, "I love you, but don't flatter me now. I just - I want to give you the damn world and I can't do that stuck here. I know your mom is sick but baby, I want to go to L.A. I can do this. I know I can. I know I can make it." He whines, shaking his head and he turns his head to press his head against yours.
You sigh softly, knowing this is a conversation that has been going on for months. “I can’t- baby- mom needs us here right now.” You’ve been taking care of your mom for months, you and Dieter moving in and providing in-home care so she didn’t have to go into a care home. “When she’s better, we can look at moving out there.” You promise again. One thing that you love about Dieter is his persistence, but he’s also impatient. He doesn’t really want to wait, every day could possibly be his big break in his mind. “Besides, you don’t want to plan a move around the holidays.” You remind him. “Thanksgiving is in two days.”
Dieter doesn't respond, knowing that his dream is slipping away. Your mom doesn't seem to be getting better and you are young but everyone is asking when you're going to have kids. You just got married six months ago. He's not ready to have kids and all it takes is one slip up on your birth control and he's stuck in this two bit town. He pats your hand, "yeah. Yeah, of course. Let's focus on the holidays." He says but his tone doesn't match the smile he offers you.
You know he’s disappointed that you aren’t immediately jumping to pack your bags, but he will have to understand. “I’m baking your favorite pie.” You hum teasingly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Right after mom’s appointment tomorrow and your mother has already said that she’s bringing the turkey.”
Dieter eyes the script and he wonders about the tape he sent off last week for the role in a new TV show about a detective. He took a chance and auditioned for the lead. It’s a pilot, but could be picked up and he doubts he will get the part. He taps his fingers against the table and turns his head to press his lips to yours. He loves you, he really does, but he feels trapped. “Come here.” He demands, wrapping his arm around you and dragging you into his lap. “Fucking love your pie.” He smiles and presses his lips to yours.
Melting into Dieter easily, you kiss him back, straddling him. Your mother is upstairs resting after a particularly rough day and she will be asleep for a few hours. “I love you.” You coo, grinding down on him with a smirk when he groans. “You want to have sex?” Dieter finds it sexy when you just bluntly ask, so you have taken to doing just that.
Dieter groans, sliding his hand down to squeeze your ass, “yes. Fuck yes.” He smacks your ass and kisses your jaw. “Here or you wanna go to our room?” He asks against our skin, wanting you to decide but he’s already hardening beneath you.
“Here.” Spontaneity has been a little lacking lately with your mother requiring a lot of your time and you know that Dieter will enjoy it. “You can think about it when we are eating dinner here with the family.” You tease.
“You’re too fucking good to me. Think about your pussy while eating your pie.” He teases as he slides his hand under your shirt, “get your damn jeans off.” He demands as he pulls your shirt over your head.
You bite your lip as you stand up, pushing away from him so you can get undressed. “Strip down baby.” You beg, wanting to see him. Dieter has an amazing body, lean and naturally athletic, every time you see him you get wet.
He doesn’t hesitate to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor, and he stands up to strip his jeans. He never wears underwear so he kicks them aside and sits back down to watch you strip while he wraps his fingers around his cock, pumping himself. “You’re so sexy.” He murmurs, dark eyes watching you with lust. You’re still in your honeymoon stage after six months of marriage and Dieter is always ready to fuck his wife.
“Me?” You snort and shoot him a playful wink. “I’m the one with a hot, actor husband.” You remind him, reaching up and cupping your tits. “You want to fuck me? Or you want me to ride that pretty cock of yours?”
He scoffs at your comment about him being an actor. He wishes. He’s a community theater actor at best. He reaches for you to drag you into his lap, “come here and ride my cock, my beautiful wife.” He demands, groaning when you straddle him and he bends down to take your nipple into his mouth after he cups your tit.
Passion is something Dieter has in spades. He never fails to make you fall deeper in love with him. It’s not like you haven’t been together since you were almost too young for love, but it just keeps growing. “Dee.” You moan, fingers sinking into his short hair. “You should grow your hair out so I can pull it.”
"Can't." He murmurs against your sternum, his face buried between your tits. "I need it short for the show." He presses a kiss to your skin before he lathes his attention on your other breast. His free hand squeezes your ass, "fuck, you're so gorgeous. Wanna eat you out later." He declares after he bites down on your nipple.
You hum, knowing that he can’t grow it out right now, but you would love it. “God, Dee.” You whimper happily, letting him do what he wants while you grind down on his hard cock and roll your hips. You are wet and getting wetter, but he will still stretch you out.
He doesn't want to hurt you if you aren't wet enough so he slides his hand down to cup your cunt, his fingers easily finding your clit to rub slow circles on it.
You moan his name again, loving how he is patient with you. It doesn’t hurt that he’s got a big cock and he knows it. He’s proud of that fact, even if neither one of you has slept with too many people. “God baby, you touch me so perfectly.” You praise breathlessly. “My husband.”
He kisses up your chest until he's pressing his lips to yours while he continues to rub your bundle of nerves. "My sexy, beautiful, smart as fuck wife." He murmurs against your chin and he is throbbing with need for you. "You ready for me?" He asks, his tone a little whiny as he aches for you.
“Yessss.” You hiss, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock. “I want to ride you, baby.” You pant, lifting your hips as he pulls his hand away and you position him at your entrance.
Dieter hisses as you start to sink down onto him. You’re so fucking perfect and he has always thought it. Ever since you were kids. You’ve always been the most beautiful woman in the room. His hands are everywhere, sliding along your body until he squeezes your ass, letting you adjust while you take him inside your tight cunt.
Dieter always feels amazing, you moan his name as you squeeze him with your muscles. “Fuck I love you.” You pant, kissing along his neck when he turns his head. “You’re my forever baby.”
He groans, helping you rock on top of him, “fucking love you too. So much.” He murmurs, squeezing your ass and his hands slide up your back to pull you even closer as you move on top of him. You’re on your tiptoes as you lift up and slowly sink back down onto his cock. No one has ever made him feel like this, like he is home, but it’s still in the back of his mind to want more from his career.
You don’t know what is rolling through Dieter’s mind as you ride him. All you know is that he feels incredible and you love the way he moans. The way he kisses you. He’s always been a passionate person but he truly makes you feel cherished when he’s touching you, praising you. “I love you. I love how you feel inside me.” You moan, grinding down on him.
Your moan makes him twitch inside you and he watches you as you ride him, taking what you want from him. “Love you too, baby. Tell me - tell me how much you love me.” He whines slightly, needing reassurance from you. He can be insecure and considering his lack of money due to his chosen profession, he feels like he can’t provide for you like he should.
You can tell that he is needy right now and you press your lips to his briefly before you caress his cheek. "To the moon and back." You promise him. "The only one I will ever be married to."
Your words have his heart racing and his stomach clenching when you look into his eyes and you stare at him like he’s the only person in the world, in your world. He loves it and he surges forward to reclaim your lips, needing to be as close as possible to you at this moment.
You love when Dieter is like this, needy and greedy for you. Holding you tight and kissing you like you are the only woman in the world. Even if he dreams big, what you have is real, it’s not an act. You kiss him back just as eagerly, pouring your feelings for him into that simple act while you bounce on his cock.
You take him so well and he groans into your mouth, his tongue sloppily sliding against yours. His hands are everywhere, greedy for you, and he knows you’ll be by his side no matter what. He loves that about you. He tries to get as much of you as possible and it’s so not enough.
Both of you dissolve into moans and grunts of pleasure, the pace picking up to where your tits are bouncing and you feel like Dieter is in your guts. Breathlessly panting praise for him and how his cock feels into his mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming.
He needs to feel you fall apart for him so he slides his hand between you, finding your clit to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves and he groans when you fall apart for him within a few swipes of his fingers. You clamp down on his cock and soak him, collapsing against his chest and he moves fast to wrap his arms around your body, rocking you on top of him as he seeks his own orgasm.
Dieter is frantic and greedy, bordering on desperate as he starts to shuffle his hips up. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” You cry out, gasping as he pushes it towards overstimulation. “Cum for me, baby.”
He falls apart as the command leaves your lips. His cock twitching as he paints your walls with his hot seed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He pants as he stiffens beneath you, his face buried in your neck as he cums for you, only for you.
You whine softly, loving how you’ve stopped using condoms since you’ve gotten married. One day you will go off your birth control and start a family, but you’ve decided to wait until your mother doesn't need as much care and Dieter is better established. “I love you.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair gently.
He pants, kissing your chin as he looks up at you, “love you too.” He murmurs, caressing your back as you embrace while the pleasure echoes through your bodies. He sighs and presses a soft kiss to your lips just as your mom calls your name from upstairs.
You sigh softly. “At least we finished this time.” You chuckle, kissing his lips again before you pull off his cock with a groan. “Coming!” You call up the stairs as you move to the sink to clean up quickly so you can redress.
Dieter sighs, shifting to grab his pants from the floor. He knows you are an incredible person to take care of your mom and moving in with her has helped you both to save up money, hopefully for a move to L.A, but his mother in law has been a cock block since he moved in. He watches you rush around and get dressed before you run upstairs and he redresses, looking down at the script on the table. The phone rings on the wall and he calls out “I’ll get it.” He answers and frowns when they say his name. It’s his agent. The one he’s scrapped money together to get some auditions booked. “You got it! You got the part!” He announces and Dieter’s eyes widen, “th-the lead?” He asks, wanting to confirm. “The lead!” His agent grins and Dieter’s heart thumps in his chest. He got the lead. He got it. He finally did it. He grabs a notepad to take down the details. “So you need to move to L.A. Read through for the pilot is the first week of December.” His agent says and after writing down the details, Dieter says goodbye. His grin makes his cheeks hurt and he shakes his head in disbelief.
When you come downstairs, his hands are shaking. “She wants some tea.” You announce as you walk to the stove and Dieter spins you around, pressing his lips to yours. “I did it!” He announces and you frown, “did what?” He chuckles, cupping your cheeks, “I got the part.”
“The part?” You’re confused for a moment before your eyes widen. “The part! That’s great baby!” You kiss him again.
“Yeah we have to be in L.A by December first.” He tells you excitedly, making your face fall into a frown. “In L.A?” You ask, hoping that he is joking. “Yeah, we can go out this weekend and see about getting a place.” He immediately starts rambling and you get more and more worried as he starts to plan out leaving and catching his big break before he finally takes a breath. “Baby….” You bite your lip. “I can’t move to LA. What about mom? What about our life here? My job?” You don’t want to say it out loud, but Dieter has never been the financially stable one of the two of you. You wanted him to chase his dreams and you had always thought once he got it out of his system, he would settle down.
His excitement falters and he stares at you, his brow furrowing. "I, uh, I thought this was always the plan. You know, us, moving to L.A. You working on your art. Me on acting. Our fucking dreams baby. Have you forgotten we have dreams?" He growls, stepping back from you, "or are we gonna fucking die in this goddamn town like our fathers?"
You rear back from the venom in his voice. “Of course I haven’t forgotten we have dreams.” You tell him, hating how he is looking at you. “But sometimes you have to put your dreams on hold. Mom is sick. What am I supposed to do? Leave her alone? Who would take care of her?” You demand. “How will you pay rent if the part falls through? Or the show isn’t picked up? We have stability here. I’m not saying we don’t dream, but I have responsibilities right now.”
Dieter frowns, taking in your words, and his heart breaks. He can’t follow his dream and be with you so he’s going to have to give up his dream. This is his chance, he feels it in his stomach, but he knows you won’t leave your mother. “I can’t stay here forever.” He murmurs, his dark eyes meeting yours.
“I promise it won’t be forever.” You murmur softly, relieved that he is seeing reason. You step closer and he’s not pulling away again. Reaching out and caressing his cheek gently. “Within the next couple of years, we will be chasing our dreams for real.”
Dieter nods despite the part being in the back of his mind but it’s Thanksgiving. Maybe you’ll see reason in a couple of days. He doesn’t phone his agent back to turn down the role, wanting to see how things go. You work on getting the tea ready for your mom and Dieter stands up, “I’ve got a rehearsal for the show later so I’m gonna go shower.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, heading upstairs to the bathroom with Hollywood in the back of his mind.
After taking your mother her tea, you start prepping Thanksgiving. It’s a huge relief to have your family bringing dishes so it’s not all on you. You know you will have a lot to do and taking care of things now will help. Humming to yourself as you make the pie Dieter loves, you smile to yourself. It’s going to be a wonderful holiday.
****
Dieter taps his fingers on the table, listening to your uncle ramble on about the election and he clenches his jaw, trying to not snap at him. "Did you vote for that piece of shit or not, Bravo?" Your uncle Frank asks and Dieter sighs, not wanting to get into an argument. "I don't really get into politics." He answers diplomatically and Frank scoffs, "if you guys value your future, you would pay more goddamn attention." Dieter picks up his glass of wine and takes a sip, glancing across the room to where you are rushing around to grab what everyone needs before you all sit down for dinner. "You need any help, babe?" He calls out and you shake your head, "no. No. I'm nearly done. Everyone sit down!" You demand and you carry the mac and cheese to the table while everyone admires the feast in front of them. Your mom wants to say grace so Dieter reluctantly takes your hand, keeping one eye open as he holds his mom's hand on the other side of him. Your mom clears her throat before she speaks, "thank you Lord for the food we are about to eat. Thank you for family, friends, and loved ones. Thank you for every day we wake up and see the sunshine. May we have many days to come." She finishes with a cough and Dieter sees a tear roll down your cheek and he lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it while everyone says "Amen." You clear your throat and smile, telling everyone to dig in.
The table is soon full of food and drinks and your aunt Susan decides to sour Dieter's mood. "So when are you planning on having kids? You two have been married for six months. I was five months pregnant by that stage." She giggles and turns towards you.
You feel Dieter tense beside you and your hand quickly slides under the table to squeeze his knee in reassurance. “We’ve decided to wait.” You remind everyone, the exact same thing you said when you were getting married. “Why? You’re married now, it’s time for you to start a family.” Frankie insists and you shake your head. “We have things we want to do before we have kids. If we even have them at all.” You add.
Frankie scoffs, "don't tell me that you are putting a family on hold so Dieter can become a fucking actor?" Dieter stiffens even more, knowing your uncle wasn't impressed by his career plans and thought he should get a real job to support you and any kids that come along. "I, uh, I got a part, actually. In a pilot, in L.A. It's about a detective." Dieter tries to defend himself and his mom chimes in with "really, baby? That's amazing. Oh I'm so proud of you." She coos, knowing how much her son wants to be an actor. Ever since he was a little boy it's been his dream but your family is relentless.
"Proud of him? What's he gonna do? Drag her to L.A and leave his mother-in-law when she's sick? She's got fucking cancer and her son in law is gonna fuck off so he can follow some dream and come crawling back here when he fails and get a damn divorce because he didn't put his goddamn family over his selfish ass. He will never be famous." Frankie shakes his head and Dieter drops his fork, shrugging off his mom when she rubs his shoulder and pushing your hand away.
“Uncle Frank, that’s enough.” You hiss, although you aren’t shouting because you want to keep the peace as much as possible. “No, it’s not nearly enough.” He snorts and you shake your head. “Your vision of our life doesn’t matter. If Dieter wants to try to make it big in Hollywood, you should be proud of that.”
"Don't." Dieter murmurs, clenching his jaw, and he shoves his napkin on the table, "I'm sorry. I - I gotta go to the bathroom." He declares and you frown, "babe" but he strides off without glancing back at you. He storms into your bathroom, leaning over the vanity to look at himself in the mirror.
"I have a fucking role. I know I can do it. I know I can be an actor. Just need a fucking chance." He hisses through his teeth. "All I need is a chance. I'll fucking prove that asshole wrong." He growls to himself and glances at his toothbrush sitting next to yours. He will never make it in Hollywood if he stays here. He will never prove them wrong. You'll get pregnant and he will give up on his dream. He'll lose his hair, go grey, get wrinkles, and a beer gut like every other fucker in this town. He will be a loser just like them. "I'm not a fucking loser." He mutters and grabs his toothbrush.
“Why do you have to be an asshole?” You hiss to your uncle as everyone else shifts uncomfortably. “The boy has to face reality.” Frank insists, frowning heavily. “He’s not going to be an actor. He needs to get a better job to support you instead of you paying all the damn bills and running yourself ragged while he pretends to work at that stupid little community theatre.”
Dieter rushes around your bedroom, packing essentials, and he grabs a piece of paper from your nightstand, scribbling out a message to you. You'll come to find him any second so his handwriting is awful. He slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and looks at the bed you share. Hopefully you understand why he's doing this. He loves you but he needs to do this for himself. He has to prove everyone wrong. He hesitates for a second when he sees your wedding photo as he turns towards the door and he sighs, shaking his head before he makes his way downstairs quietly. "You need to dump his ass. That Grayson boy wanted to marry you and he works at his daddy's dealership. He's got a career and he's gonna be a big deal in this town. Should've married him." Frank scoffs and Dieter swallows harshly, making his way down the hall to the front door. He opens it softly and steps outside, the cold air making him shiver and he gets in his car, not hesitating as he backs out the driveway and begins his journey. "L.A here I come." He mutters, knowing he will return to his hometown a fucking Oscar winner.
You finally have to leave the table. Not even your mother chiding your uncle has helped and you are sick of his damned opinions. “Dee?” You knock on the door to your shared bedroom, wanting to give him a chance to compose himself if he’s upset. He’s a lot more sensitive than most would believe. “Baby….” You open the door and frown when you don’t see him sitting on the bed and looking miserable. “Hun?” The bathroom light is off and you sigh. Thinking that maybe he had gone outside until you spot the paper on the bed. Stomach sinking in dread, you stare at it for a moment before you reach for the slip of paper. Hand trembling, you unfold it and see that Dieter has scrawled “I can’t wait for my dreams. I’m sorry.” You choke back a sob, realizing that he’s left and you don’t even know when he’ll be home.
****
"Fuckkkkk yessss." Dieter groans as he watches the woman take his cock into his mouth while her boyfriend slides into her from behind. It's a naughty sight he's familiar with and he fucking loves it. "Look so fucking gorgeous." He coos and the man smirks, "says the Oscar winning actor and People's Sexiest Man of the Year 2023." Dieter smirks, chest puffing slightly as the woman giggles as she squeezes his cock. "should get best cock of the year too." She coos and Dieter caresses her cheek, "fuck. You two are gonna make me cum with words." He smirks, "you free next weekend?" He asks, wanting to spend more time with his co-stars.
"We are going to New York. It's - fuck - Thanksgiving." The man reminds Dieter who frowns as his cock is pushed further down the woman's throat. Thanksgiving. Something he hasn't celebrated in the years since he left you during the middle of dinner. His assistant has probably booked for him to go to Hawaii again. "Guess I'll see you when you get back." He says and smirks when he shifts onto his knees to kiss his co-star.
****
"What do you mean the fucking flight is canceled?" Dieter growls at the check in assistant at the first class desk. He would travel private but holidays are fucking expensive. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bravo, but the flights have been canceled to Hawaii. The fires..." She trails off and Dieter scoffs, "what a joke. So what the fuck am I gonna do?" He asks her, eyebrows raised above his aviators. "We can get you a flight somewhere else. Or a refund. If you want to go somewhere, this flight is leaving at the same time as your previous flight." She turns the screen and his jaw drops when he sees the flight is to his hometown. "No. No. Not there. Anywhere but there." He demands and she nods, "I can issue a refund but-" Dieter cuts her off, "actually. Get me a ticket. First class." He demands, remembering that he hasn't seen his mom in years and his co-stars talked about how nice it is to go home for the holidays. He will go home and show everyone in that fucking town that he's back. The Oscar Winning Actor who won Sexiest Man of the Year 2023 is fucking back. "There you go, Mr. Bravo. Enjoy your trip." She hands him the ticket and he smirks, "oh I will."
****
“Mom, I really don’t feel like celebrating this year.” It’s the same comment you make every year, but you are always overruled. “Don’t be ridiculous.” True to what you had told Dieter, your mother had beaten cancer and was now happily in remission. You still live with her, not because you are taking care of her, but because you didn’t want to live alone after Dieter had left you. “Don’t worry, I’ve already invited Sean.” She assures you. “And Debra won’t mind him being there.” You roll your eyes, wishing that Dieter’s mother wasn’t also your mom’s best friend and automatically invited to every family event. Even if you were technically still family since Dieter would never sign the damn divorce papers.
Dieter takes his glasses off his face when he rings the doorbell of his childhood home and his mom answers within a few moments. "Dieter?" She gasps, shocked to see her son, "hi mom." He smiles and she squeals, surging forward to wrap her arms around his neck. "You're home. I can't believe it." She cries and Dieter embraces her. Despite his playboy reputation in L.A, he's always been a momma's boy. "I missed you. Let me look at you." She cups his cheeks and frowns, "you don't eat enough and you pierced your ear. And got more tattoos." She tuts, "but other than that, you are my boy." She kisses his cheek and lets go of him when he flushes, "mom." She steps back and ushers him inside, "come in, come in. I'm just cooking." Dieter follows her inside the familiar home and it hasn't changed.
"I'm just cooking for the dinner tomorrow." She explains and Dieter raises his eyebrows, "dinner?" She nods and says your mom's name, "it's Thanksgiving." She says with a giggle, "silly goose." Dieter frowns, "I, uh, I should probably stay here. I'll be fine." He promises and his mom nods, "yeah. She will be there." His mom never mentions your name on the phone when she discusses her best friend and her life. He heard about your mom beating cancer and he took a hit of coke to celebrate. "She's engaged. So it's probably best that you don't go." She says, still protective over you despite Dieter being her son. She was shocked when you came back in to announce that Dieter had left and she wanted to slap him silly for leaving the best thing to ever happen to him. Even if he was preoccupied with his dreams. "Engaged?" Dieter chokes, knowing he has no right to be shocked but his stomach twists. "She's happy." His mom says and Dieter scoffs, "happy. Still in this damn town. She can't be happy. Who's she engaged to?" He asks and Debra sighs, "Sean Grayson. He's good for her. Baby, I know...I know you left and wow, you've made me so proud seeing you as an Oscar winner and all but...it's time to let her go." She reaches for his hand and Dieter pulls his hand away before she can touch him.
"I want to meet him. I'm going to dinner." He declares, spinning on his heel to call around, see if he can at least get some weed from someone around town. "Oh boy." Debra mutters, knowing this year will be drama filled but maybe it will be good for everyone to get closure.
Waking up on Thanksgiving is always so damn surreal for you. You dread the day, wouldn’t do anything but hide in your bed if you had your way, but you can’t do that. Your mom only let you have the first year after Dieter left to sulk. After that, she had decided Thanksgiving would go on, and so would you. So you just wake up and stare at the ceiling, knowing that this would be the last year you would sleep in this bed. The same one you shared with Dieter although you had replaced the mattress five years ago. “Fuck.” You groan, looking over at the nightstand where another copy of the divorce papers are waiting to be mailed after the holiday.
Dieter wakes up with a groan as his mom bangs on the door to his childhood bedroom. "Dieter! We are leaving in twenty minutes!" Debra shouts through the door and Dieter winces as he rubs his cheek. "Ugh, shit." He rasps as he glances at the clock. It's nearly eleven. He managed to find some weed last night. Ironically the dealer was the same kid who would sell weed in high school and he was shocked when Dieter met him. "No way man, I fucking loved you in Hunger Strike. Here, some E on me." He shoved the baggies at Dieter who offered him a polite smile and paid him before smoking in his room like he used to do when he was sixteen. He rolls out of bed and showers, groaning at his reflection. He's older, wrinkled, graying hair. Everything Frank said he would be but he's famous. He's successful. That's all that matters and today, he gets to show that to everyone who doubted him. He dresses in nicer jeans and a button down, wanting to appear successful since they cost more than someone's rent for the month. "You ready, mom?" He asks and Debra nods, "are you ready?" She emphasizes and Dieter smirks, "let's go."
Even though you would rather be anywhere else, you come downstairs dressed nicely and make sure that you put on makeup this morning. Sean likes when you dress up for him and since this is the first Thanksgiving spent with him here, you make the effort. Hours later, it is almost time for everyone to arrive and you are putting your pie in the oven.
The drive to your mom's house is quiet and Dieter looks out at the town he left in the dust. It hasn't changed and he is nervous. He knows you must hate him. You've sent him divorce papers several times throughout the years but he has never signed them. He doesn't really know why. Sometimes he's gotten high or drunk and signed them but never mailed them. Sometimes he's ripped them up and had his assistant overnight them back to you. He should give you a divorce but he can't do it. Even if he doesn't know why. Pulling up on the familiar driveway, he adjusts his sweater and follows his mom to the front door, bracing himself as she rings the doorbell.
“I’ll get it!” You just texted Sean, so you are pretty sure that it’s Debra. If you can get the talk about Dieter out of the way before he gets here, you would feel a lot better. The last thing you want to do this year is be reminded all day that your husband left you. “Hi, Deb-“ your smile freezes as you open the door to your mother in law and find not only her, but your absentee husband standing on the doorstep with a disgustingly charming smile on his handsome face. “What the fuck?”
Dieter slides his eyes down your body, taking in the sight of you after so many years apart and God, you’re just as fucking beautiful. But you are glaring at him like he just shot your dog and he guesses he deserves that. “Hi honey. I’m home.” He jokes, unable to do anything else right now.
“Are you delivering the divorce papers in person?” You demand and he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “What divorce papers?” He feigns ignorance and Debra chuckles awkwardly. “Now, now, it’s Thanksgiving!” She reminds both of you before she calls out to your mom. “Where do you want the casserole?” She slides by you into the house and leaves you staring at Dieter.
“I wanted to come home and see everyone. Is there something wrong with that?” Dieter continues to smile, loving how affected you seem to be by his appearance. “I missed my mom’s casserole.” He pouts, “and you.”
You rock your jaw, seeing how Dieter’s smile has shifted to a smirk. “Missed me?” You snort and you know that you have to let him in or risk causing a scene. “I doubt that. Where’s that fitness model you were dating? And the hotel concierge?” You watch him shift and his arms drop to his sides, telling you when he’s feeling guilty. “Guess they couldn’t make it?” You don’t invite him in, but you turn and just walk away with the door still open.
Dieter clenches his jaw, knowing his flings have been well broadcasted and his relationship with Anika fell apart because she wanted to get married and he couldn’t explain why he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t tell her he was already married. He huffs and strides into your house, one he knows well but there are differences in decor since he was last here. Shutting the door behind him, he follows you down the hall into the living room where your family is gathered. “Uncle Frank.” Dieter grins, walking over to the old man to slap him on the back, “so good to see you.”
Your uncle Frank’s eyes widen in shock when he turns to see the man he had once called a loser standing next to him. Dieter is successful, famous and rich. He chokes out a “Dieter,” without swallowing his tongue. “You’re here for Thanksgiving?”
Dieter wishes there was a camera to take a photo of the man who ridiculed him so many years ago for chasing his dream. Dieter nods, “yes. Figured I’d come home and see everyone. How you doing?” He asks and Frank chokes out “I’m the same.” Dieter tuts and shakes his head, “that’s a shame. You’ve done nothing with your life.” He mocks and your aunt Susan comes over to him, “you were amazing in Hunger Strike. You really deserved the Oscar.” She says and Dieter grins, standing straighter, “yeah. Thanks. I, uh, I worked my ass off on that role.”
You walk into the kitchen, seething in anger that Dieter just waltzes back into your life and now it could ruin everything. “Why the fuck is he here?”
Your mom sighs, “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know Deb was bringing him. Hell, I didn’t even know he was back home. What - what are you gonna do? Sean is arriving any minute.” As soon as she says that, the doorbell rings.
“Oh shit.” Your eyes close in frustration and you rush out of the room to open the door before anyone else. Luckily Dieter is letting your aunt fawn and coo over him, as if she’s not completely aware that he had broken your heart.
Dieter watches you rush past the living room down the hall and he offers your aunt a smile as she gushes over his movies. This is what he wanted. To return to adoration. To come back be someone. Not a loser. His grin is cocky as he accepts her praise until you walk into the living with Sean Grayson behind you. He hated that kid in high school. He was a jock who’d make fun of Dieter for being the weird theater kid.
“Listen, I don’t think it’s a good idea if we stay.” You murmur to Sean. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He huffs. “I’ve been looking forward to Thanksgiving with your family.”
Your family, especially Uncle Frank, all coo over Sean as he strides into the living room and your uncle reaches out to shake his hand. “So glad you could come.” He grins and Dieter rolls his eyes, he’s never been greeted like that by your asshole uncle. Sean makes the rounds to say hello until he’s facing Dieter. “Oh. Wow. Bravo. You’re back in town.” Sean says and Dieter nods, holding out his hand, digging his rings into his flesh a little harder than normal. “Yep. Back in town. Figured I’d have a small town Thanksgiving for once instead of trying to cool down in Hawaii.”
You bite your lip and watch your fiancé interact with your technical husband. He smiles that smarmy smile you’ve noticed he’s developed over the years when you’ve accidentally seen interviews and articles with him in them. The one that you can tell is fake. “I need a drink? Does anyone need a drink?” You ask. ��Sean, why don’t you come help me, sweetheart?”
Dieter watches you walk off with Sean and Uncle Frank nudges the actor. “New man on the scene. You know, his daddy gave him the dealership. Boy is making good money and he bought her a hell of a ring. Much nicer than that tin you gave her.” Frank snorts and Dieter clenches his jaw and gives him a tight smile. “I wasn’t rich then. I could buy her a million dollar ring and still not touch the sides.”
“But why would you?” He asks. “You’re banging everything you can get your hands on. We aren’t so small town that we don’t know what you’re doing in Hollywood.” In the kitchen, you are rushing to get the wine glasses while Sean gets the wine. “I can’t believe Bravo came.” Sean snorts. “Got to be a shock to see your ex-husband here.”
Dieter snorts, wishing he had a cigarette or something to distract himself from the hell he volunteered for. He imagined you would be grateful for his return and he’s found you engaged to a fucking asshole who used to bully him. “True. You know, I was in a throuple.” Dieter smirks, “wore me out and I ended it because I needed to give my body a break, if you know what I mean.” He smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.
Frank curls his lip and turns away from Dieter, moving over towards his wife and leaning in to whisper something in her ear. “Yeah- uh, it’s kind of a shock.” You tell Sean, quickly opening the bottle he opened and pouring out drinks. “Just- um, please don’t talk about the wedding or anything?” You beg him. “I don’t want Dieter to try to bring up the past today. I don’t know if I can handle it.” Sean knows all about Dieter leaving you on the holiday and has been supportive of you so far. You can only hope that Dieter doesn’t run his fucking mouth. You’ve never actually told Sean you are still married to the actor, assuming he would get bored of whatever little game he had been playing and sign the damned papers. The judge wouldn’t grant you a divorce without Dieter present because of his fame and the wealth he has, despite you promising the old coot you just wanted the divorce. He had also been the one to marry you and Dieter forever ago and had a history of no divorces amongst the couples who had been married by him. It makes you want to tear your hair out.
Sean nods, coming over to you so he can rub your upper arms. “Don’t worry, baby. It’s gonna be okay. We won’t let him ruin this holiday again.” Sean murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Just ignore him and if you want, I’ll kick his ass.” Sean smirks, “been wanting to do it since high school anyway.”
You frown slightly, hearing an anticipation in Sean’s voice that you didn’t like. You know they didn’t get along in high school, but that was so long ago. “No, nothing like that.”
Sean nods, "fine. Let's get a drink and ignore his ass." Sean reaches for a bottle of beer and opens it, talking a gulp. Meanwhile, Dieter is thanking your mom when she hands him a glass of white wine. He wishes it was stronger but he doesn't want to get sloppy. Today, he's here to show everyone that they were wrong.
You try not to even look at Dieter when you come back into the room, reassured by the kiss shared in the kitchen and the weight of Sean’s hand on your waist. “Dinner should be ready in fifteen.” You tell everyone, smiling but avoiding looking over towards Dieter and Debra.
Dieter's gaze drops to the hand on your waist and he shifts from one foot to the other. He knows he has no claim over you but he feels jealous. He talks to his mom who smiles at him, happy he's home, and finally, everyone is sitting down for dinner.
"So, Bravo, why'd you come back? To this town?" Sean asks after you walk into the kitchen to grab the salt and pepper. "To see my mom. To see everyone since I've been gone for so long." Dieter answers and Sean snorts, "yeah. Years. Looks like you've been busy too. Work wise and with partners." Dieter snorts, "true. I have been very busy." He smirks, "that's why I came home. I needed rest."
You look down at your plate after sitting down, pretending not to care about the conversation but it stings. A knife to your chest just like that time….you reach for your glass and take another gulp of your wine. Dieter had moved on, obviously, and so have you. It does no good to delve into the past. “Well, our small town is the perfect place for rest.” You manage brightly, picking up your fork again.
Dieter hums, “that it is. That it is.” Sean narrows his eyes slightly when he sees the way Dieter looks at you. “So what are your plans? Just hanging around? Or you gonna go out? We don’t need the town to be disrupted.” He bites at Dieter who chuckles and nods, “I’m used to signing autographs and taking photos. I just don’t want fans to be stalking me. I’ve had some issues back home with fans following me home. I did take one to bed once but she ended up being crazy.”
You shudder, forking up a bite of your food and holding it at your mouth. “I’m sure that after tonight Dieter will go back to LA where he belongs.” You look towards your fiancé. “Our small town is boring and there’s nothing here for him.” You’ll give him the papers again when Sean leaves.
Dieter shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. This town has its charms.” His dark eyes focus on you, “but enough about me. What about you two? Tell me how you met.” He orders, setting his fork down to take a sip of wine.
You are about to change the subject, but Sean actually reaches over and squeezes your knee. “Well, her car was on its last leg, a rolling road hazard really, so she came in to find another vehicle.” Sean explains. “Since dad turned over the dealership to me, I find that I actually like to be on the sales floor. I sold her on the idea of that pretty little car in the driveway and a date.” He chuckles at his own joke and you smile at him when he looks over, although your appetite is gone and your stomach is in knots.
Dieter chuckles, a fake smile on his face as he looks at you. You look a little sick, definitely look like you want to floor to swallow you up. “And do you make her cum?” Dieter asks bluntly, “because she used to love it when I ate her out.”
“Dieter!” His name is not only hissed by you, but by his mother, and your own. Your aunt gasping and your uncle grumbling about degenerate behavior while you wish you could just disappear. Sean stiffens but he looks over at you and smirks. “Well, I’m the one taking care of her now.” He turns back towards Dieter. “And I’m not talking about my fiancée like that.”
Dieter falters for a second upon hearing you’re engaged to that asshole but he recovers and smirks back, “so you eat her ass? She used to love that. Would make her drip onto the bed sheets.” He continues to push the boundaries and his mother slaps his arm, “I cannot believe you. Be quiet.” She pleads but Dieter stares at Sean, silently challenging the man you’re engaged to.
Your face feels like it’s on fire, thoroughly embarrassed by Dieter’s childish behavior and the very personal questions. Sean snorts and shakes his head. “You’re something else, Bravo.” He tells him. “It’s a good damn thing she didn’t stay in LA with you. You would have mortified her in interviews.”
Dieter leans back in his chair, his brow furrowing, "what are you talking about? She didn't come to L.A." He scoffs, "she never wanted to come to L.A. She wanted to stay in this shithole town and have babies and die having never achieved anything."
Sean frowns and looks at you. “I thought you said you met up with him in LA to give him the divorce papers?” He asks and you huff out a nervous smile. “I mean- I did, but I-“ Dieter chuckles. “Nope. Never happened.” He announces. “Dieter-“ you try to stop him, but he just smirks at Sean. “We’re still married.”
Dieter watches Sean's face drop and he chuckles, "she didn't tell you? She's still Mrs. Bravo." He reveals and his mom nudges him but this moment is so satisfying. To see that smug look fall from that asshole’s face. "We don't have a pre-nup so it's not financially viable for me to divorce."
“You told me you were divorced.” Sean’s eyes narrow towards you and you know that he’s pissed. “Baby, I’ve been trying to-“ “You know how I feel about shit like that!” He hisses, his chair scraping the floor as he pushes back from his plate quickly. “You’ve been lying to me. I can’t-“ he shakes his head and stalks around the table to edge towards the door. Leaping up, you rush after him, hoping you can explain.
Dieter smirks and his mom slaps his arm again, “why would you do that?” She asks and Uncle Frank scoffs, “because he’s an asshole.” Dieter hums, feeling satisfied to make Sean angry. “Well, let’s not let the food go to waste.” He declares and digs back into his food.
Outside you are chasing after Sean. “Wait! I can explain.” You tell him, making him stop and spin around. “You can explain how you’ve been lying to me?” He demands, his face showing how hurt and upset he is. You sigh. “I’ve been trying to divorce Dieter since I went to LA. But he refuses to do anything with the papers I’ve sent his lawyer, his agent, him directly.” You wave your arm around in frustration. “And the judge will not do anything until he does sign them!”
“So you accepted my proposal knowing you are already married? What were you gonna do? Be a bigamist?” He hisses and you shake your head, tears in your eyes. “I can’t- I can’t marry someone who lies to me and I need time. I- I’ll call you later.” He shrugs off your touch when you reach for him and he stomps over to his car, getting in and speeding off down the road.
You watch the car for a moment, angry and hurt, even though you know that he is right. You lied to him, afraid of losing the first stable relationship since Dieter had left you. Walking back inside, you find Dieter calmly eating Thanksgiving dinner like he hadn’t just turned your life upside down again. “Thanks for that, you fucking selfish prick!” You yell. “Why did you even come back here now? To ruin Thanksgiving for me all over? Mission accomplished!” You turn back around and rush out of the house again, tears streaming down your face.
Dieter scoffs and stands up, following you outside because he needs to say what he’s been thinking since he arrived. You spin around when you see him, telling him to leave you alone. “Like you really wanted to marry that prick. He just wants you to be a homemaker. Pop out his babies. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about your dreams. I did, remember? But you didn’t follow your dreams. You stayed here to fucking rot in this fucking town.” Dieter growls, “you’re the one who gave up on us. Not me. I left to do what we always said we’d do. I had the balls to follow my dreams.”
“Fuck you.” You hiss, glaring at him and wanting so back to slap him. “Apparently following your dreams was also fucking other people!” You watch as his eyes widen and you laugh at the irony. “I went to LA, Dieter! A week after you mailed me your apartment key, I flew out to surprise you. Mom had just been told the cancer treatment had been successful and I wanted to tell you in person.”
Tears are streaming down your face as you tell him. “I crept into the apartment only to find your dick down some bitch’s throat while her boyfriend was fucking her. Allllllll while you moaned about how you were going to fuck them both. So I left.”
He flinches, remembering that night, and he wondered why his door was unlocked at the time but figured his guests hadn’t locked it. “I- I- what was I supposed to do? You didn’t want me. You made it clear that I didn’t matter when I got the part and you refused to follow me. Your mom could’ve come with us. I don’t - I refuse to apologize for living my damn life.” He growls back before he swallows and slumps, “I’m sorry. I- fuck - okay? I’m so goddamn sorry. I missed you. Whenever I got drunk, I’d pick up the phone and call you and you’d answer and - and I’d lose my shit and hang up. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have left but I achieved my dream. I couldn’t stay here and be called a loser by your family anymore. I had to prove myself and my chance came. I had to take it. No matter the cost.”
“No matter the cost.” You nod, feeling deflated. “That cost was our marriage. But I guess it was worth it, right?” You ask. “You get to fuck whoever you want, everyone wants to fuck an Oscar winner.” You turn around and rush off, wanting to be alone.
He lets you walk away this time, knowing how you feel and he can tell you hate him. He’s ruined everything for you because he was selfish and wanted to achieve his dreams. Your mom was sick, he should’ve stayed, but it’s too late to turn back the clock. He watches you walk off and feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s your mom. “I- I’m sorry. I ruined her life.” He murmurs and turns to look at his mother in law.
“You know, I was so angry when you left. On Thanksgiving of all days. She fell apart. Wouldn’t speak to me. Just helped me get better and I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for her, but I feel guilty. She never got to achieve her dreams. I held her back. And to know that I could’ve stopped you from your success is equally as bad. I hate you for leaving her but I love you for accomplishing your dream. When I was sick, I had so many regrets. I had to face death and I realized I didn’t do anything that I set out to do. After you left, I decided to do all the things that I wanted to do when I was better. I did all that and it’s because of you. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be regretting all the things I didn’t do. You are a great actor, Dieter, but right now, you need to be yourself and be honest. Do you want to be married to my daughter when you are in L.A and she has found someone who can give her what she needs? She wants children. She wants to be happy. She can’t do that if she’s constantly clinging to the past. Do the right thing.” She urges and Dieter sighs, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I’ll go talk to her.” He promises, knowing where you are. Where you used to go. It doesn’t take long to walk to the park, finding you on the swing set you’d hang out at as kids.
You sniff as you kick at the rubber that they replaced the old sand with. It’s not nearly as satisfying as you had thought when you got to tell Dieter off and him being here has stirred up emotions you had thought you had buried deep enough. Sean is a good guy, but he isn’t Dieter. He doesn’t dream with you, and he can be annoyingly practical all the time. You hate how your heart had kicked in your chest when you opened the door to see your husband standing there. As if you sense his presence, you look up to see him walking towards you. Making you sigh softly and kick off to start swinging.
Dieter approaches you cautiously, not wanting to be screamed at again, and he sits down on the swing next to you. “Your mom talked to me. She’s still the same. Like my second mom.” He chuckles and glances at you until he turns his gaze to the falling leaves. “I’m sorry I’m such an asshole. I have been selfish and I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve stayed. Talked to you. Made a plan together.” He inhales deeply, “I’ll sign the papers. No arguments. I’ll let you go so you can be happy with Sean.”
You sigh, continuing to swing as you absorb what he is saying. “It doesn’t matter now.” You finally admit. “Sean’s first wife had an affair so he hates liars and cheaters.” You snort to yourself. “And technically, I’m both.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve really fucked up your life. I’ll sign the papers and get you one of those uh, what is it the models want, a Birkin bag.” He teases and you roll your eyes. “I won’t fuck your life any more. I’ll sign the papers.” He promises softly.
“Why wouldn’t you sign them before now?” You ask. “Seriously? I asked for nothing. Not one dime. No spousal support, no alimony, nothing. But you wouldn’t sign them while you were galavanting around the world and having public relationships with models.”
He looks down at his hands, the tattoo he got when he was eighteen of the circle you’d draw on his hand during class. He rubs the circle and sighs, “because I never stopped loving you. I know you won’t believe me and I’m not asking for anything but I thought if I signed the papers…it’s over. We are over. I didn’t want to face that when no one in Hollywood ever loved me. Not for me. Not like you did. I love you and I was selfish to keep you trapped in our marriage while I did whatever I wanted, whoever I wanted. I’ll sign the papers and I’ll talk to Sean. Tell him it was my fault. I threatened you to not sign the papers because I- I don’t know, because I didn’t want to give you any money. I’ll take the blame and you can be single and marry him, if that’s what you want.”
“You know you broke my heart, when you left?” You ask softly. “That's why I wouldn’t talk to you in the beginning. I was upset. If you had just talked to me about a plan that didn’t just include dropping everything, I would have gone along.” You continue to swing as you talk. “I wanted to be with you in LA. Wanted to help you make your dream come true, but you didn’t need me. You had everyone else.”
Dieter shakes his head, flexing his fingers, “everyone else?” He scoffs, “no one really wanted me. They wanted fame, money, connections. They didn’t give a fuck about me. The real me. I had to get lost in the haze of drugs and booze to feel something. No one has ever made me feel like you do.” He admits, “no one ever came close to you.”
“Poor Dieter.” You don’t murmur it sarcastically like you probably should have, despite everything you have to admit to yourself that you still love him. “You have everything you wanted and are more alone than ever.”
He knows he should put his walls back up and say his life is amazing but he is exhausted from pretending. “No one loves me. Not really. They only love what I can give them.” He sighs and rubs his hands.
“Your mom loves you.” You point out, even though you know that’s not what he means. Dieter huffs and you smile at his pout. “I still love you.” You admit. “It’s why I’m so fucking angry at you.”
Dieter clicks his tongue, “you still love me? Why? I’ve treated you like shit. Worse than shit. You should hate me. Fuck, I hate me.” He confesses, staring at the tarmac beneath his feet. “You deserve everything.”
“You can’t help who you love, Dieter.” You remind him, scoffing at both of you. “You broke my heart and refused to let me move on, but I watched the Oscars the night you won.” You confess. “Got drunk when I saw you making out with that model at the Vanity Fair after party.”
“I had - my PR needed me to date and make a name for myself until it became about me helping those girls make a name for themselves. I didn’t connect with anyone. Never had a relationship. Just one night stands. It was never serious. It was never you.” He closes his eyes and sighs.
“There’s no way I could compete with those women.” You scoff. “And men. They are gorgeous.”
Dieter chuckles humorlessly, "pretty but so fucking dumb. Trust me, baby. None of them had a lot of brain cells. They are beautiful but none of them wanted to talk about life. They just wanted to be seen with me and go on their way when they got what they wanted."
Some might call you stupid, but you feel bad for him. Dieter has always had this need to feel love, to be connected to someone. “I’m sorry that fame hasn’t been all you thought it would be.” You murmur. “I know that after I came back from LA, I- I just lost my passion. I couldn’t work on my art anymore. Everything was just dismal.”
“The grass ain’t always greener, huh?” He snorts and kicks his feet as he swings. “I’m sorry. I sent you that key when I was high and I always miss you when I’m high. I wanted to see you and figured that was one way to get you to L.A. I didn’t know…fuck, I wish I’d known.” He admits, “I, uh, I haven’t been with anyone for six months. Kinda lost the appeal. Casual sex. I miss how we used to be. Our sex.” He confesses, glancing at you.
“We had great sex.” You admit, never telling Sean that he didn’t quite measure up to your ex. That would have been wrong. “Maybe too good of sex.” You sigh again. “A month after you left, I found out I was pregnant. Or I thought I was.”
Dieter’s eyes widen, “you thought you were-? Did you-? I mean, I completely understand if you decided to, you know.” He finishes softly, his stomach twisting.
“No.” You quickly shake your head. “I, uh, lost the pregnancy a couple of weeks later.” You had confirmed with your doctor that it was likely you were in the early stages but it obviously wasn’t meant to be. He told you that stress could have caused it, or there was something wrong with the baby to not be viable. Either way, it had felt like the universe was telling you to let Dieter go. And then a month later you found him fucking another couple.
He hates that he wasn’t there, that he possibly caused it if you were upset by him leaving. “I’m so sorry.” He murmurs, “I know - there’s nothing I can say that will make that better or make it right.” He reaches for your hand to squeeze it, “I ruined your life. Your happiness.”
It’s the first time Dieter has touched you since he left so many Thanksgivings ago, but your heart still pounds and your skin tingles. “I wish we could have done things differently.” You squeeze his hand back gently.
Dieter nods, “me too. I wish I hadn’t fucked up. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.” He confesses and kisses the back of your hand, “even better than an Oscar, but…that time of our lives is over now. I know you can’t forgive me. I’ll sign the papers.” He promises, letting go of your hand.
You frown to yourself as you wrap your hand around the chain for the swing and push off again. “Do you remember that weekend we each told our parents we were going to stay at a friend’s house and we went to that little cabin your grandfather owned?”
Dieter frowns, the memory is one that got buried beneath the haze of drugs and booze but he remembers. “Yeah. Our first time.” He smiles, fondly reminded of the night you first slept together. “It was so fucking cold and I couldn’t get the fire started. Turns out having sex is a great way to keep warm.” He chuckles, starting to swing alongside you.
“That was the day I decided I was going to marry you.” You hum at the memory, smiling softly at the way a very young Dieter had panicked that he had ruined the moment for you. You had both been kids at the time, growing up together. “That’s a fun fact that the world doesn’t know about Dieter Bravo.” You tease. “You married the girl that took your virginity.”
Dieter chuckles, “Entertainment Tonight would have a field day.” He winks at you when you giggle, “it took me way too damn long to propose to you but I was scared you were gonna say no. Who wanted to marry a wannabe actor making his money in a community theater with no house? I was a shitshow.” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself.
“You were my shitshow.” You laugh, leaning back in the swing and kicking your feet higher. “It was us against the world back then, and I didn’t believe you would make it honestly, but I wanted you to try.”
“Hey. My improv was fucking great.” He defends himself playfully, “but I had to try. Even if I went to L.A and failed, I had to try. I couldn’t live life thinking what if. Imagine if I hadn’t gone? I’d be sat at the kitchen table with our kids wondering what could’ve been. I just wish you’d been by my side when I left.” He says as he swings.
“Hard to be by your side when you left without a word. Just a note on the bed.” There’s no heat in your tone, just irony. “It just- wasn’t meant to be.”
“And Sean is meant to be?” Dieter snorts. “Do you really want to marry that asshole?”
“He’s…..” you blow out a sigh, “safe.” You admit to him and to yourself. “I like him, he’s a good man……” you know you aren’t answering the real question and it’s ironic that Dieter is the only one to ask you that since you and Sean got engaged. “No.” You confess after a moment. “I don’t to want to marry him.”
Dieter nods, quiet for a moment as he absorbs your words, “I can’t sit here and lecture you. I have no authority in your life but you need to do what you want. Fuck everyone else. You sacrificed so much of yourself for everyone around you. Even me. I was selfish and you are still sitting here talking to me. Do what you want. Be selfish for once.” He demands, wanting you to be happy.
You want to be selfish and you drag your feet along the ground to stop yourself and hop off the swing. Turning towards Dieter, you grab the chain and pull him to a stop. His eyes widen and for a second, you both think that you’re going to slap him. He would deserve it. Instead, you lunge forward and press your lips to his.
Dieter is shocked when your lips smash against his and he reacts within seconds, wrapping his arms around you to drag you into his lap. As soon as your lips touch his, his muscle memory kicks in and he deepens the kiss. Reminded of so many kisses shared all those years ago.
You are shocked by how quickly Dieter clings to you. You’re angry at him, how could you not be? But you’ve missed him so much that it doesn’t matter right now. Your fingers sink into his longer hair and you moan, enjoying how it feels. You always wanted him to grow his hair out.
Your fingers pull on his hair and he groans into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass. He devours you, knowing this is wrong, and you’re going to push him away any second, but right now he’s greedy and he wants you.
You let yourself be taken away by the moment. Leaning into him, breathing him in. His base scent is still the same, woodsy and you swear he is still wearing the same cologne you had picked out for him years ago.
He knows you’ll pull away any second and he readies himself for that rejection as he leans back, pecking your lips until he kisses your cheeks and finally, your forehead. “I never stopped loving you.” He promises breathlessly, his hands sliding up your back. “I just wanted to make you proud but I fucked it all up.”
“You did fuck it up all up.” You won’t spare his feelings, but you reach out and caress his cheek. “But I am proud of you, Dieter. Every movie broke my heart and made me proud. Every role, even when you were on Broadway.” You sigh. “I went to your performance, the second week in.”
“You did?” He asks, eyes widening as he looks at you and his heart is pounding in his chest. He hasn’t felt like this in so many years. He hasn’t felt anything real for so long.
“I had to see it. You talked about Broadway the entire time you were at our local theatre. I honestly didn’t expect you to take the role, but when it was announced, I bought tickets.” You tell him. You cried through the entire thing, but people just thought you were moved by the performances.
He smiles softly, loving that you came to see him even if you hated him. You are kind enough to support him even when he ruined your life. “So what now? You gonna tell Sean you don’t want to marry him? I go home and we act like this never happened?” He asks quietly, worried that you’ll nod and send him away.
“I don’t know.” You bite your lip. “I don’t know what you want. You have a life in LA, a …..persona.” You add. “If you want that life, still….” You shrug. “I don’t think I can be a part of it.”
“Come with me to L.A. There’s nothing keeping you here. I want you to see my life and I want you to do something for yourself. Make your dreams come true. Paint. Do whatever you want. I’ll support you. I don’t give a fuck about my persona. I want to be with you and if you want to go home, if you get sick of me, I’ll book you a private jet straight back here.” He promises, “just give me another chance. Give us another chance.”
You lick your lips, staring at him and watching him start to shift nervously. “You want me to move to LA? Live with you?” He nods enthusiastically. “I do, baby, I want you to come be with me.” You lick your lips. “What do I have to lose?”
He nods, not allowing himself to get too excited. "And if you hate it, hate me, wanna come home...I'll sign the papers." He promises, nudging his nose against yours.
You snort. “I doubt that.” You tease, closing the gap to press your lips to his again. “I’ve never hated you, even when I hated you.” You had been so upset at him, but it’s only because you loved him so much. You still love him.
****
“Baby! Did you get the juice boxes?” You call out and Dieter strides into the dining room with the boxes for the kids. “Here you go.” He leans over to kiss the head of his three year old son before handing another box to your five year old daughter who opens it herself while saying “thanks daddy.” It’s so weird to hear that even now and Dieter can’t believe he’s a father. He smiles at his daughter and leans in to softly kiss you. “You need anything?” He murmurs against your lips, pulling back to look at you. “No. No. Sit down and eat.” You order and he sits down. “It looks amazing.” Debra compliments your mom who beams, so happy to be spending the holidays with her grandchildren. “Thank you.” She smiles at Dieter who is happy to be sitting here. So different from that Thanksgiving so many years ago. You had moved to L.A with him after your mom encouraged you and after that, you had decided to try and repair your relationship. It was easy to fall in love again and now, you have two kids.
You have everything you wanted back then, finding some small success as an artist, but you really prefer spending time with your kids, and your husband when he is away on location. You bring the family now and the press is marveling over the change in Dieter Bravo’s behavior. “Happy Thanksgiving everyone.” You raise your glass of wine but you don’t take a sip, smiling at Dieter mischievously. “Next year we will need to set another place at the table.” You announce. “Baby Bravo number three will be coming to a nursery near you in April.”
Your mom’s eyes widen as much as Debra’s and she grins, “that’s - that’s incredible, baby!” She cries and tears fill her eyes. “Oh my loves. Another baby.” Debra coos and reaches out to caress Dieter’s cheek before she smiles at you. “I’m so happy you both came back together.” Your mom sighs, loving how you and Dieter have worked everything out.
It hasn’t been easy, there have been times when you’ve been angry at Dieter, but he’s sober, you attend couples counseling and he has become your rock. “Thanksgiving miracles, huh?”
Dieter nods, “our miracles.” He murmurs, reaching for your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. You all dig in to the food and soon the kids are in bed after everyone is full, the house is clean, and your moms are watching tv. “You ready for bed, babe?” You ask and Dieter glances at the clock. “It’s only eight.” He frowns until you raise your eyebrows and his eyes widen, “oh yeah. I’m tired. We are going upstairs. Wifey needs all the rest she can get.” Dieter teases and your moms say goodnight while Dieter takes your hand and guides you upstairs.
You snort playfully and reach around him to slap his ass. “You almost didn’t get the drift.” You tease him. “And I thought you always knew when someone wanted sex.” Dieter huffs at you. “I didn’t think you would want it tonight.” He whines, defending himself.
You chuckle, “you know how horny I get when I’m pregnant.” You remind him and Dieter snorts, “but you’ve had turkey and pie.” He defends himself again as you make your way to the room you used to live in when you first got married. He opens the door and closes it behind you, groaning as he surges forward to press his lips to yours.
The years apart and the life that Dieter had lived in LA had just given him new skills to use on you. While it wasn’t perfect, you have to take the good with the bad. The good is that you have Dieter completely. Your arms wind around him and pull him close as you moan softly.
His hands are gentle but firm as he slides his hands down to squeeze your ass, pulling you against him as he hardens in his sweats. “Fuck. I love you.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck as he guides you backwards to the bed.
“I love you too.” You promise, trusting that he will make you feel amazing. “How do you feel about another baby?” You ask as you fall back into the bed.
“Happy as fuck.” He admits, “we have money. We have a big enough house. We can have as many babies as you want.” He teases as you lower to the bed and he shifts to kneel between your legs, “and you’re so fucking beautiful full of our babies.”
You have discovered that Dieter has kinks surrounding having kids now. Breeding, pregnancy, lactation kinks all have made for some amazing nights. You love the confidence that it gives you when he works with some of the most beautiful people in the world. He’s now the one that is showing pictures of his kids to his co-stars and inviting them to meet you, rather than asking if they want to do a line of coke with him. “You just love proving you aren’t sterile.” You tease, reminding him of The Inquisitor article that claimed all your children were born via sperm donor.
He snorts, “all conceived on my cock, baby.” He declares smugly and he reaches for the hem of your shirt, dragging it over your head. “You are gorgeous, baby.” He murmurs as he bends down to kiss your stomach, not quite a bump yet.
You hum, running your fingers through his hair again like he loves. He’s always sweet and considerate while you are pregnant and this will be your last baby, so it’s a special time for both of you. “All yours.” You promise.
He’s gonna get the snip before you have the baby, just so this is your last baby, and it’s bittersweet but he is going to enjoy every moment. He hooks his fingers in your leggings, dragging them down your legs and he groans when the scent of your arousal hits his nose. You’re so sensitive when you’re pregnant and he loves it. “All mine. And I’m yours. All of me.” He promises as he tosses your leggings aside and surges down to press his nose against your clit through your panties.
“Deeee.” You moan softly, loving the devoted look on his face as he looks up towards you. “I know I have you baby.” You promise, smiling down at him. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” He murmurs and hooks his finger in your panties, leaning in to slide his tongue through your folds. He loves the tang of your arousal when you’re pregnant. You taste sweeter somehow and he groans, reaching for your thigh to push it further away so he can slide his tongue into your cunt.
Whimpering with Dieter’s tongue inside you is as natural as breathing. Closing your eyes and letting him eat you out because he wants to. He loves doing down on you and hearing his name break from your lips. “Fuck baby, I love you.” You pant. “Deee.”
He loves hearing you moan his name. He laps at you, wanting to show you how much he loves you through his tongue. One hand caresses your stomach and the other pushes your thigh back to spread you more so he can bury his face In your pussy.
He loves hearing you moan his name. He laps at you, wanting to show you how much he loves you through his tongue. One hand caresses your stomach and the other pushes your thigh back to spread you more so he can bury his face In your pussy.
You don’t have to worry about waking the kids up, they are used to sleeping through anything although it’s usually just dinner parties and the two of you having sex. “Fuck, Dieter.” You moan. “Want to cum all over that stupidly handsome face of yours.”
He chuckles into your folds, knowing he's getting wrinkly and despite his co-stars in Hollywood investing in plastic surgery, he is surprisingly not interested in preventing aging. He is happy to be old beside you. His tongue laps at your clit, wanting you to fall apart for him.
Your hormones make you sensitive and in no time you are crying out in pleasure. Gasping out his name as your thighs cinch down around his head and your body shakes in pleasure.
He groans when you squeeze his head between your thighs, his hand reaching for yours as he works you through it. His cock is aching and he grinds against the mattress while he works you through your orgasm.
Dieter doesn’t stop until you are gasping and pushing his head away from you, clit aching from his attention and he pulls away with a playful smack to his lips. “I need you inside me.” You beg, reaching down and pulling him up. “I need my husband.”
He groans, shifting to hover above you, and he lets you pull his shirt over his head. He pushes his sweatpants down and his hard cock bounces as he kicks them aside while you throw his shirt on the floor. “Like this?” He asks, caressing your side and when you nod, he shifts to kneel between your legs, “I love you.” He murmurs as he grips his cock and positions himself at your cunt to push inside you.
The stretch of him is something that you will always love. Moaning as he fills you with a smooth, steady thrust that doesn’t stop until he is buried to the hilt and both of you are breathless. “Fuck.” You whimper, caressing his back as you squeeze him tight. “Feels so good baby.”
Dieter groans as he twitches inside you. You’re so damn hot and wet around his cock. “Fuck, I love you.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss your lips. “Marry me again.” He murmurs, keeping still inside you.
You’re surprised when he says that. You’ve talked about it before, several times. He had always said that you should renew your vows, but you’ve never really planned anything else. “You want that?”
He nods as he stays still above you. “I want to renew our vows. Either before or after you have the baby. Whenever you want. I want a proper wedding. We got married at the courthouse when we were so young and I want to give you the wedding you deserve. A dress and a cake and - and a party like no one has seen.”
You giggle quietly. “It will have to be after the baby is born then.” You huff, knowing that while he has the money to pull off a wedding in weeks, you would rather enjoy the entire event rather than feeling rushed. “We’ll sell the pictures to People.” You tease, reaching up and caressing his face. “I love you.”
He snorts, nudging his nose with yours, “this will be for us. Our friends and family.” He promises and starts to move inside you. “I love you. So damn much.” He murmurs, sliding his hand up to squeeze your breast, shifting his weight to one arm.
He keeps his pace slow and loving, wanting you to enjoy it and sometimes the harsher thrusts aren’t what you want. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you move with him. Enjoying the way he fills you and never leaves you empty for too long. Slow lovemaking. “I love you too.”
He loves how you wrap yourself around him and he keeps his weight off your stomach while he rocks into you. It’s slow and sweet and he kisses along your jaw while he murmurs how beautiful you are. He knows how to make you moan and he grinds into your cunt, shifting his hips until he finds the angle that makes you moan his name. “That’s it, baby.” He coos, his back starting to ache but he keeps moving.
You breathlessly moan for him, finding it so sexy how he keeps the pressure up just like you need it. You know that his back is hurting and yet he keeps rocking into you at the same angle. “So good baby.”
He keeps the pace and angle as he pushes into you, wanting to feel you fall apart beneath him. He groans your name, “baby. Baby. Cum for me.” He demands, pressing his lips to your jaw, his breath puffing against your skin.
You let go of him and reach between you, pinching your nipple and making yourself fall over the edge. Crying out softly, your cunt starts to spasm around his cock and soak it with your juices.
He groans against your jaw as you cum around him, clamping down on his cock and he hisses. “Fuck baby. Feel so goddamn good. I - shit - I love you.” He murmurs, rocking you through it.
You whimper, eyes closed and your fingers dig into his shoulder. “Cum for me.” You beg softly. “I want you to fill me up.”
He grunts in response, thrusting into you at a sloppier pace than before as he feels that tingling in the base of his spine. His lips press against yours as he buries himself deep after several thrusts, muffling his groan while he paints your walls with his cum.
Even when he’s exhausted and happily riding out his high, Dieter collapses to his side so he doesn’t press too much of his weight on you. More considerate than anyone would have ever believed the selfish bad boy of Hollywood could be. “I love you.” You whisper in his ear with a smile on your face. “Happy Thanksgiving, love.” Thanksgiving had been a heavy burden for you, a reminder of your husband leaving you for years until he had come back to you on that same holiday. Now, you both give thanks for being together and more in love than ever. You accomplished both of your dreams and now all of them you still work towards are ones you want to accomplish together.
#pedro pascal#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo x f!reader#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo imagine#dieter bravo fanfiction
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YOU LOVE BLOOD TOO MUCH (BUT NOT LIKE I DO)
★彡 synopsis: awakened in a new era, sukuna found endless opportunities to hurt and maim others. he also found you, a sorcerer with an ever-expading soul bonded to oaths of pacifism and self-control. allured by the strength you decided to hide, sukuna realized this era could be far more fascinating.
chapter two: postpone or the one you threatened to obliterate satoru gojo.
warnings: conversations about death, megumi fushiguro is bad at feelings, teachers & students, yuji itadori is a ray of sunshine, sorcerers being clinicaly insane, ryomen sukuna, canon level of violence, blood and gore, cannibalist thoughts, protective satoru gojo.
word count: [1,5K]
kill count: [0]
From underneath the ash tree, admiring a caterpillar chew on a damp leaf, you realized how unfair it was for today to be beautiful. A boy just lost his life, you cursed the cloudless sky and warm breeze. It was supposed to rain.
Which burden is heavier? The guilty of murdering a child, or the responsibility of all lives reaped by a reincarnated Ryomen Sukuna? A hero wouldn’t hesitate. A hero would carry that burden for the rest with blood-stained hands and call it mercy.
Good thing Satoru Gojo is a calamity, and the elders never hesitated before calling you a monster.
Ignoring the blurs burned into your eyelids, you stared down at the mountains surrounding the college. Dozens of miles below, two dots no bigger than ants went up the concrete path. One pink, one white. A second later, the last one stopped moving.
“If you don’t want to see him”, you waved back at Satoru. “You better start walking now.”
Megumi sighed. “No. I will stay.”
“Go on, be a kid. Hide on your room until you have no other option.”
“I can’t.”
His wounds were fully healed, but the tiredness on Megumi’s voice is evident. You could almost hear all the gears moving inside his mind. Grudge and loathing battling to take control. In such a peaceful day, his silence is loud enough to hurt your ears.
Does he regret saving Itadori, or does he resent his teachers for allowing him to have hope? You don’t know which is worse. For it to be grief or responsibility. Megumi deserves more than being a hero.
“Was it pointless, sensei?”, he grumbled. Eyes set on the ground, words sharp and precise. “Did I only delay something that could’ve been quick and painless? Did I just make it all worse for him?”
“My. What a self-centered boy”, you hissed. For good measure, you also finger-flicked Megumi hard in the forehead. “Tell me, Fushiguro, do you think we kept him alive because you asked us to? Do you think we were forced to defend him?”
Megumi rested his head against the tree trunk. Ouch. Glaring at a caterpillar, Megumi realized he had no choice but admitting the truth. A simple finger-flick and his head throbs. “No, sensei. I couldn’t.”
“Exactly,” you smirked at him. Standing on the ash tree root, you reached for Megumi. His dark eyes could freeze you. Would Megumi like to know how much he reminds you of his father? “Let the adults handle this, alright?”
He accepted your help, and then Megumi followed your suggestion. Once the distant dots turned into discernible shapes, you decided to meet them halfway. Going down the trial’s steps, it took a minute for Yuji to spot you. Running towards you, he left Satoru behind.
“Morning, sensei!” Yuji bowed. You both silentlu agreed to pretend he didn’t just stumble on a step. “Wait, are you a teacher too? Are you my teacher too?”
“I… train your veterans, Itadori”, you answered slowly. For someone expecting Yuji to look devastated, or at least exhausted, his wide smile was an astonishing sight. “You’ll soon meet them all.”
With his arms crossed over his head, Satoru passed by you both. “He’s like an excited puppy, isn’t him?”
Suppressing your laugh, you gesture for Yuji to follow you both. Tilting your head back, you looked into his eyes. How warm. “Has he explained everything to you?”
“Oh, yeah, I think”, Yuji pouted. Rubbing his index finger against his chin, he spoke again. “Fight curses, eat rotten fingers, die.”
Postpone the execution of Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel, the elders announced it as an act of mercy. You wonder if they even know his name is Yuji Itadori. Not that it would matter. It was the best deal Satoru was able to negotiate, but not one you’re willing to accept.
A plan has already formed in your mind. All you have to do now is be patient.
“You shouldn’t worry too much about that last part”, you sighed. “We had a similar incident last year. Those cachectic elders can try as much as they want, but we won’t allow them to hurt our kids.”
Once again, Yuji surprised you. As he laughed, snoring a bit, you regretted cursing this beautiful day. The sky really knows best than you. This boy deserves a thousand sunny days.
“Respect your sensei”, Satoru remarked him. You rolled your eyes, knowing damn well he didn’t mean it. “She said something that funny, huh?”
“No, it’s just… I thought you were a monk.” Yuji pointed at your robe, looking at the sash with prayers sewn in golden. “Didn’t expect you to say something like that.”
“A monk?” Satoru cachinnates. “Her? Don’t make me laugh, Yuji.”
“Not a monk”, you sighed. “Tell me, Satoru, should I start his first lesson?”
He shrugged. “The boy is all yours.”
“You know what talismans are, Itadori?” You walked the familiar path with your back turned so you could look at him. Surrounded by trees, your voice echoed down the mountain. “You can make one to use as an intermediary for shikigami, create barriers, seal cursed objects…”
“Like Sukuna’s finger?”
Satoru hummed. “Many uses, not very efficient in any of them. Paper rots. They can be made in other materials, but it’s still pretty easy to destroy if you want to.”
“This is a talisman master Tengen crafted for me”, you pointed at the prayers on your sash. “The technique behind it is mathematically correct in every aspect. And still, I wear the same for a week at best.”
“You’re so strong, sensei. I mean, Sukuna tried to eat your heart and it didn’t affect you at all. You can’t do like Megumi and summon a shikigami from shadows?”
“Anyone would’ve assumed I use this one to summon shikigami. Good line of thought, you learn fast.” Yuji smiled at the praise, and you made a mental note about it. “But this one is a sealing talisman.”
“And what are you sealing, sensei?”
“Myself.”
“Cool”, Yuji said. A beat later, he spoke again. “What does that mean?”
“That she’s enough of a menace those cachectic elders put her on a leash”, Satoru explained. “Such a stupid binding vow you were tricked into.”
“Do you have a death wish?” Tilting your head towards the courtyard nearby, you grinned. “Because if you want me to beat your ass, all you have to do is ask for it. I’ll be nice and heal you once you admit defeat.”
Satoru lowered himself to face you, and smirked with his hands on his knees. “All that bark, but I see no fangs. And they call you a monster.”
“There is only one way for you to found out why”, you took a step forward. “C’mon, Strongest. I’ll have so much fun cutting you in half just to put you back together again.”
Yuji was about to shout for help when loud laughs imploded. He could swear the ground vibrated. In sync, you both continued to walk. Satoru with his arms relaxed, you moving swiftly in your scarlet robe. As if nothing happened.
Later he understood. They acted as if it meant nothing, Yuji gossiped. Because for them it didn’t.
“Let’s head to your interview with the director. If you’re not good enough, he’ll reject your registration.”
“Good luck”, you cheered. “Don’t embarrass us.”
“So, you two aren’t the leaders?”
In a matter of seconds, everything changed. It wasn’t a beautiful day anymore. You weren’t surrounded by nature, laughing with an old friend, teaching a willing boy about something you love. The sky was cloudless, the breeze was warm, and it was still the day after Ryomen Sukuna reincarnated.
“Hierarchies are worthless when they do not depend on strength.”
“Sorry, sensei!” Yuji slapped his cheek, trying to cover Sukuna’s mouth. “He does that sometimes.”
Crossing your arms, you glanced at the scars beneath his eyes. Satoru noticed them before you. “What a weird body you have now”, he said.
Another mouth opened in Yuji’s palm. “As soon as I dominate this vessel, I promise you will be the first one to die.”
“It would be an honor.”
At that, you felt poison on your tongue. “As if I would ever let that happen.”
“You will die after him.”
Ignoring the threat, you looked at Yuji. “A binding vow is a pact that can give sorcerer great powers as long as they follow agreed restrictions. Not even Ryomen Sukuna would break one. Tell me, do you want to make a pact with me?”
“Don’t…”
The fact Sukuna tried to intervene was that sold the deal. “What pact?” Yuji spoke over him.
“I’ll protect you from the elders”, you started. Reaching out to him, you thought carefully about your next words. “And in turn, you’re forbidden from making a binding vow without me to mediate.”
Yuji shook your hand. “Okay. We have a deal. A binding vow, that is.”
Feeling that familiar sting of Sukuna messing with his body, Yuji glanced at his hands. Only then he saw the tongue lapping up at your blood. He slapped it, whispering some curses.
“I’ll take that as a compliment”, you showed Yuji your fully healed hand. “The King of Curses wants a piece of me.”
“Another piece of you, that is”, Satoru corrected you. For once, he sounds serious. “How greedy.”
all rights reserved to © madwomansapologist | @mwalibrary @mwashelf
#madwomansapologist#you love blood too much (but not like i do)#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x y/n#sukuna ryomen x reader#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#satoru gojo#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#yuji itadori#itadori yuuji
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looks like a tragedy now | draco malfoy
Summary: You and Draco had been together for over a year when an argument sent things into a downward spiral. Neither of you will talk to each other and when you do it only seems to make things worse. Warnings: N/A Word Count: 1.3k Authors Note: this is another repost from my old account. wrote in 2020 and the first ever draco fic i wrote so it’s not amazing but it holds a special place in my heart <3
“You could always just go over and talk to him,” Hermione suggested as she followed your line of sight which of course led her gaze to land on the one and only Draco Malfoy. At her words, you sighed heavily and shook your head. It took you another few seconds before you finally pulled your eyes away from him to look down at your plate of food. Not a single bite had been taken, too nauseous to even think about eating.
“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Hermione. I’m not sure I want to talk to him either,” you shrugged your shoulders, using your fork to push the uneaten food around on your plate.
“What even happened?” Harry had now decided to chime in. Ron was too busy stuffing his face with food to be too bothered to ask questions but he was still listening.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going to the common room,” you said rather abruptly as you got to your feet.
“You haven’t eaten anything,” Harry noticed.
“Not hungry.”
And, with that you headed out of the Great Hall and towards the comfort of the Gryffindor common room. You really appreciated the concern of your friends but right now you didn’t want to even talk about what had gone on between you and Draco. It was a sensitive topic — one that you didn’t think you could talk about yet without bursting into tears. So, for now, you were going to sit in front of the fire, read a book and attempt to get your thoughts away from a certain Slytherin.
You and Draco had been together for over a year now. It had all started in fourth year when you’d been paired together in Charms for an assignment. At first, you didn’t talk much but then one day conversation started flowing when you questioned him about Quidditch. Conversations then turned into two friends hanging out outside of Charms then that turned into both parties seemingly getting a crush on each other then one day Draco had had enough of dancing around and asked you out at the start of fifth year. The rest was history. Since then you’d been together, it had been perfect until Draco started acting secretive and you let jealousy take over on your end. This had led to a big, big argument. Now, two days later you weren’t talking to each other, your relationship was up in the air and you had no idea what to do. Sure, you could easily have marched over to him and demanded to talk but some pretty hurtful things had been said and the last thing you wanted was to have another shouting match. It was safer to stay away from each other right now as much as it killed you. Little did you know it was killing him just as much.
“Cheer up, (Y/N). You better off without ferret face anyway,” Ron patted you on the shoulder. It had been a week now since you and Draco had spoken. You’d made no effort to talk to him and he’d made no effort to talk to you. In fact, you’d been actively trying to avoid each other.
“Yeah,” was all you said. You knew your friends didn’t like Draco. He wasn’t much a fan of them anyway so you didn’t really expect them to understand why you were miserable. You had to give them credit, though, they really were trying to make you feel better but it wasn’t helping. As the days passed by you felt more and more miserable. You missed him. You missed him so damn much. Maybe if the two of you weren’t so stubborn you’d have fixed this already.
You threw your bag down onto the ground, sliding into your seat at your usual table in Charms. This had been the class you’d been dreading all week. This was the class that you sat next to Draco in. You rested your head on your hand playing around with the sleeve of your sweater with the other. Suddenly, you heard a chair scraping across the floor and books being thrown on the table. He was here. He was next to you. You knew by the smell of his cologne. The smell you loved so much. Usually, he’d greet you with a warm ‘hello darling’ and not hearing those all too familiar words broke your heart. All you wanted to do was throw your arms around him and say sorry but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You were far too stubborn to give in. Besides, you deserved an apology too. You hadn’t bothered looking at him yet, solely focused on the thread of your sweater.
“Can you move your bag? It’s in my way,” Draco drawled without even looking at you. It seemed he was doing his best to avoid looking in your direction.
“Okay.” You picked the bag up, putting it at your other side and bravely took a look at him. “Draco...”
“Class is about to start,” he cut you off sharply. As he did, he took a quick glance at you. Eyes meeting eyes for the first time in a week. He looked sad. He looked as sad as you felt. But, this was Draco Malfoy and there was no way he’d ever show his emotions properly so he looked forward, shaking his head as if you’d annoyed him. In reality, he was putting on a show. He didn’t want you to know how much he was hurting.
Class finished and you couldn’t have been more thankful. It had been torture having to be so close to Draco and not talking to him. You both could have easily said something to each other but neither of you wanted to. Well, you did but neither of you wanted to be the first to start the conversation. As people rushed out of class, you found yourself running up to Draco, grabbing his wrist to stop him in his tracks. Swiftly, he turned around to look at you, yanking his arm away from your touch.
“What? I have places to be,” he said cooly. “Or do you just want to accuse me of stupid things again? Did I look at someone? Am I having an affair? I mean, I did look at Flitwick a few times. I suppose that means I’m in love with him, right?”
“Shut up. Just shut up,” you burst out, tears brimming your eyes. “You have no right to speak to me like that. If you weren’t so secretive and hid things from me then I wouldn’t have to be paranoid all the time. You blew off plans with me every single time we planned something, Draco. What am I supposed to think?”
“Maybe trust me and have a little faith in me. How about that, huh? But, no. Couldn’t do that, could you?” Draco sneered. You could tell he was getting annoyed all over again and so were you. Both of you knew how to get on each other's nerves. As much as you missed each other, this was something that couldn’t be solved that easily.
“It’s so annoying how nothing is ever your fault. It’s always mine. I’m tired. I wanted to apologise but you’re being a typical Slytherin and giving me that attitude. I thought you’d changed. Thought maybe you could have an adult conversation with me but I was wrong.” Using the sleeve you’d been playing with earlier, you wiped at your eyes to make sure you weren’t crying yet. The last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry.
“Whatever. Are you done?”
“Are you done, Draco?”
That took him back a little bit. He knew exactly what you meant but couldn’t bring himself to give a straight answer. “Maybe.”
That was the last thing he said before he walked away from you leaving you with a whole new sense of heartbreak. Was this the beginning of the end?
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So I'm not gonna mince words: the book is not good. That's not necessarily a bad thing though imo, Twilight is awful and it still got people to read, and once they started reading they found better books to enjoy.
There is a significant amount of people who hate the book just because it's easy to hate. It's easy to sling around words like "immature" and "vapid" and "convoluted", because Lightlark is all of these things, but there's a group of people who like to go out and shame the people who do like it. They are just bullies who likely haven't even read the books but just read a review or two and decided to make it a moral thing. It's not.
I'm glad you enjoyed the book. I did not.
I think that Lightlark is what you get when someone who only consumes media and never engages with it intellectually tries to write a series.
I have a lot of issues with it, enough to make my own video essay on the matter. My largest issue is that it's marketed as a Young Adult book when the plot is clearly better suited for New Adult or just plain adult fiction, but it's easier to market YA to tiktok users because the demographic there is around 13-19. There's other issues including:
- The lack of characterization in any of the characters. Alex Aster treats characters like plot devices, and has them do things just because that's what they need to do to move the plot exactly in the way she wants it to move. To avoid them doing things out of character, then, they simply don't have any character and are all cardboard cutouts. Can you describe anybody beyond their physical appearance and use in the story? Who was Aurora's sister? What's Azul's late husband's name? Why did Grim fall in love with Isla? How old is Isla?
- The twists. Having twists in your book isn't a bad thing, the problem is that there's no narrative difference between Aster's twists and Aster's exposition dumps. It feels less like putting a puzzle together and more like taking notes from a poorly edited textbook. Also the sheer amount of them are exhausting.
- The dialogue. This is just a personal preference of mine but I can't stand dialogue that doesn't sound natural and realistic. If you can't imagine hearing this conversation in real life, I am immediately yanked out of the story.
- The themes, or lack thereof. This could've been a story about so many things, about societal expectations, about what it means to sacrifice your own desires for the greater good, about violence against women and the harm it perpetuates. We get none of those things.
There's more but I don't want to lose you. I think I already have, I'm in too deep now though.
I want to reiterate, there's nothing wrong with liking Lightlark. I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you keep reading more books and continue to expand your tastes. Maybe one day you'll look back on Lightlark and cringe the way I do when I think about the books I used to like(Maximum Ride, the Immortal Instruments, Harry Potter).
I was very excited to look for fanart and see what other people thought of a book I was reading to see if other people enjoyed it as much as I did.....only to find....that everyone...hates it.
I'm a little bit sad because I really enjoyed it. Did I read the same book as ya'll?
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I'm not as angry as some folks for Swansea not killing Jimmy early
Okay so hear me out:
We know that Anya told Swansea about the things that Jonah has done (the game doesn't specify, but let's presume it was everything) and, in turn, Swansea becomes more rude and antagonistic towards James, as well as being even more protective of the Utility Room.
We don't fully know the contents of the conversation between them. Jimbo interrupted both of them, they could've continued talking about it afterwards or maybe they were at the tail end of it. The matter is, they talked about the remaining cryo pod and - from my interpretation - collectively decided to give Daisuke the cryo pod if a time for it came. Anya crying could be either because she was opening up to Swansea about Jimminy's crimes, the fact that she was going to stay behind with Swansea for Daisuke's sake, or a combination of both.
So... who knows if Anya even asked Swansea to do something about Jerry. For all we know they decided she'd just lock herself in the med room every night away from Jonathan while Swansea kept guard of the Utility Room. Maybe she asked Swansea to do something and he - like Curly - failed her. Or maybe she even told him not do anything hasty... which sincerely I feel was the case.
Hear me out hear me out! I think there are two reasons why Anya would ask Swansea to just keep it between them for now and not do anything harsh/violent against Jeremiah:
1) People don't just think about murder as their first response, it's *hard* to decide to kill someone, even if they are deserving considering the circunstances and how they reject any and all accountability;
2) As a nurse, I think Anya is well aware of what could happen by killing Jambalaya. There are mental effects that could happen, morale would go down from the loss of human life, killing someone is not an easy thing to do and their minds have already been stretched thin from the whole crash situation. And also, imagine they killed Jamboree... what now? They can't just dispose of the body. What happens after some time when the body decomposes? What happens when the putrid air takes over the ship? What mental and physical consequences would that bring to the rest of the crew inside such a closed space with that smell? What if it's very hot inside and now you're stuck with that smell?
I just think that they decided it was better to just cope with Jizzy for the moment - handle him very carefully - because the moment they decided to kill him it'd signal the beginning of the end, their already stretched-thin mental states wouldn't hold much longer. I *GUESS* they could've killed him, put Daisuke in the cryo pod, mercy killed Curly, then Anya could've OD'ed on the pills and Swansea could have drunk so much Mouthwashing that he expired... but like, who goes for that as their first option?
Anyways this was long enough! I could be super wrong, this is just my interpretation of things, what matters is that we all hate Jimmy, fuck him. Also do not defend Curly, I feel bad for all the ordeal that he had to deal with post-crash but man you really fumbled the bag when taking responsibility was most necessary. Even if he hadn't done anything immediately, at least tell Anya that she had his full support and that Jinny would pay for his actions and that he needed some time to think of what exactly to do but that he WOULD actually do something, not just push away to the back of his mind
#bludermaus#game rambles#mouthwashing spoilers#mouthwashing jimmy#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing swansea#mouthwashing anya#anya mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke#curly mouthwashing#mouthwashing curly
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So Maifa Au. So Mercury is sent after Jaune by his still alive abusive father. So when Mercury is about to attack Jaune and Pyrrha but them Mama Arc steps in to deal with it. Cuts to Mercury crying on the couch with some and hot chocolate and a blanket telling him about his terrible father and how he didn't even want to do this. Mama Arc does on him then cuts to Arc sisters wailing on Marcus.
Date Night Disaster
(A snippet from "a Mafia" & "From Assassin to Sales Clerk" AUs)
Pyrrha was and Blake were hurting. Whomever this guy was, that ambushed them outside the movie theatre, he was good. Hampered by nothing having their weapon s, and also needing to keep Jaune and Blake safe, the pair of "former" assassins, ran, dragging their dates with them.
It was almost a good plan, but the jackass was fast and agile, meaning he was going over stuff Blake and Pyrrha had to take Jaune and Yang around. So for a good twenty minutes of a running fist fight the quartet found themselves in front of Pumpkin Pete's Novelty Store. Blake used her keys and got them all inside. Locking the doors the quartet backed from the plasticized-plate glass windows and doors.
"We just have to hold tight. The alarm should be going off, and someone will be by to check the store out." Blake panted out, as she and Pyrrha kept Jaune and Yang behind them.
"Are you guys okay?" Jaune asked.
"Who the fuck was that psycho?" Yang snapped.
"He's an asshat whose after Jaune." Pyrrha replied, her emerald eyes watching for any movement. Any sign of a threat. "We'll be safe here. It's like Blake said. Security should be around soon."
"Why is anyone after Jaune?" Yang asked, her voice filled with anger.
"It's complicated!" Blake snapped.
"Then uncomplicate it!" Yang snapped back.
The conversation died at that point as the glass of one of the doors exploded towards them, followed by a arrogantly smirking grey haired young man. He said nothing as he just came at them like a whirlwind of strikes. Both Pyrrha and Blake took multiple stiff hits from his feet and shins, before they could recover from shielding their eyes from the flying glass.
It was Pyrrha trapping on of the bastard's legs under her arm when he landed a side kick to her ribs, that gave Blake a chance to go on the attack. Blake was fast, but not a powerhouse, so while she was getting hits through the guys defenses, they weren't doing near enough damage.
"Pyr?" Jaune was at her side trying to help her up as Blake took the fight to their attacker. "Pyr!"
"Yang!" Pyrrha shouted, as she climbed to her feet gritting her teeth against the pain in her side. "You and Jaune get out of here!"
Blake was starting to get pelted by hits, so without waiting for an answer Pyrrha rushed in. The guy was a much better unarmed combatant than either Blake or Pyrrha. As the two young women specialized in bladed weapons. They were by no means slouches... they just didn't have the skills to counter the rapid kicks he was favoring.
Trapping his leg again, Pyrrha tried to grapple him. A knee strike to her chest, followed by a jumping spin kick to her head sent her spinning towards the floor. Blake knew just from how Pyrrha was stumbling that she just had a bell rung.
"Goddess of Death... what a fucking joke." the man quipped with his ever present sneer. "You're both jokes. The great Nikos, and Belladonna. You're nothing without your tools..."
"Hey asshole!" Yang shouted. "Behind you!"
"I'm not stupid enough to..." the sound of twenty pounds of sheet metal, electronics and plastic slamming into flesh, followed by a grunt of pain cut off the asshat's comment.
Blake stood there in shock. Yang had used herself as a distraction so Jaune could... rip the till from the counter with his bare hands and then swing it into the guy's shoulder and head like a flail using the power cord.
"Blake!" Yang yelled trying to get the cat faunus' attention.
"Fuckers!"
"Yang look out!" Jaune shouted, as their attacker recovered and decided game time was over. Blake dashed forward blocking the vicious strike with her back, sending her and Yang sprawling along the floor.
"Jaune!" Pyrrha screamed as she stumbled towards him, as the tall blond covered up and took a kick to his forearms that should have cracked his skull. Jaune went down and down hard. Pyrrha shoulder checked the grey haired asshole aside, and dropped down overtop of Jaune, using her body as a shield.
When a follow up attack didn't happen, Pyrrha looked up with blurry eyes. Her mind found it hard to register what she was seeing. Their attacker was getting his ass kicked by Deery, of all people! Pyrrha's vision swam and a second later she blacked out.
Deery was not happy. The store was a mess, the front door was broken, and her staff had been assaulted, along with her friends. Deery decided she would worry about explanations after. This young pup thinking he was hot shit, needed a lesson in humility. Deery's hands and feet moved with precision. Blocking, countering and redirecting every strike from her opponent, while also punching through his defenses... which he didn't have much talent for.
Snapping a kick of her own out, catching his leg with the flat of her foot, she threw him off balance. That was the beginning of the end. A blazing flurry of punches, open hand strikes, forearms and elbows peppered the s mug little shits' chest shoulders and neck, rocking him to his core, and dropping him unconscious in seconds.
"Deery?" Blake asked weakly pressing her hand to her side. Pain obvious on her face. "What?"
"I was in the neighborhood."
"What was that shit?" Yang asked, her split and swollen lip making her words sound slightly distorted.
"Self-defense course. I took it at the community center." Deery replied, "Good course, you should look into it. Great exercise. Check on Nikos and Arc. I'll take care of this..."
As the pair of young women supported each other in the walk towards their friends, Deandra "Deery" Thistle dragged the unconscious young man into the back staff room. Propping him up in a corner, she checked him over. He was breathing, which was a good sign.
Deery sucked on her front teeth as she confirmed something she had felt in her short confrontation. She sighed as she looked at the prosthetic legs hidden under the loose track pants the young man was wearing.
"Well kid you're in for a very tense talk with an angry momma bear real soon." Deery muttered as she rose and left the staff room to check on Blake and her friends.
/==/
Mercury Black awoke feeling like he had been hit by a truck, then backed over and hit by it again. Groaning he opened his eyes and blinked them back into focus. It was then he realized he was sitting on a couch, with a quilt draped over him. He also noticed his prosthetics were missing.
"Good you're finally awake." came a stern voice. Mercury turned his head to focus on the individual who was speaking. "Well I guess some introduction s are in order. I am Prismeya Arc. You are Mercury Black. You tried to kill my son, at the urging of your shit for brains father."
Mercury swallowed. He had failed the job. If he got out of this alive, his father was going to kill him.
"Now normally you wouldn't be sitting in my house, having a chat with me, all things considered. But your situation is special." Prismeya sat back in her plush arm chair and swirled her glass of red wine. "And just so you know. Everyone is a little roughed up, but they will survive. In fact you answered a couple questions for me, so thank you for that."
"Questions?"
"You need not worry about those. That's a family matter." she took a sip of her wine. "I do have a question for you, and I do hope you answer me truthfully. Did your... father..."
"Yes." Mercury answered knowing exactly what was being asked.
"I see. Excuse me a moment." Prismeya set her glass down, and picked up her scroll. "Did you here that Saphron?"
There was a pause as she listened to this Saphron, who had to be on the other end of the call.
"Good. Are all of you ready?" Another pause.
"Perfect." Prismeya gave Mercury a warm smile before speaking again. "Remove him."
The scroll was set down, and Prismeya picked up her wine glass again. She gave Mercury a soft smile before taking another sip.
"Now. Let's have a chat about your future."
#rwby#a mafia au#from assassin to sales clerk au#reader ask#my answer#response to ask#jaune arc#pyrrha nikos#yang xiao long#blake bellodona#mercury black#yang x blake#arkos#bumbleby#pyrrha x jaune#rwby deery#prismeya arc
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A Northwest
Stan x Reader
words: 2,361
tags: sfw, fluff, reader is a Northwest
a/n: this way to the request for this story
You just arrived in Gravity Falls, a town your family has lived in for generations. However, you had promised yourself to never return. After a big fight with your little brother about a woman’s place in the family and him insisting that he should be the sole heir of the family estate and such, you had had enough. Told him that if he wants it, he could have it all.
Your parents hadn’t cared either. Well. your mother had but… your brother had to have learned his attitude towards women from someone. You and your father had never seen eye to eye on anything, especially when it came to such progressive topics like ‘Should women be allowed to vote’. God, you hated him. Even went to his funeral with a big smile on your face and the most colorful clothes you could find, pissing him off one last time.
But all of that was in the past now. All you cared about as you walked those familiar streets again was your niece - Pacifica. Preston had, unsurprisingly, run his wealth into the ground, leaving himself, his wife and daughter homeless. You on the other hand had made a great career for yourself and earned enough money to live a very comfortable life.
So, as soon as you heard about the whole incident from Priscilla (she calls you about once a month, only when her husband isn’t around to hear it), you decided to help. Not him. But his wife and mostly Pacifica. You had great hopes that maybe the next generation of your family wouldn’t turn out like the rest of them had and well, if you want something done, better do it yourself.
You had arrived a little earlier than expected and decided to stop by Lazy Susan’s Diner. Greasy’s Diner. When you entered and sat down at the counter it seemed like she didn’t recognize you. You didn’t blame her, you looked nothing like you did 34 years ago. After you had left you had decided to reinvent yourself completely, new clothing style, new hair color, although by now it was starting to grey a little.
You probably wouldn’t have recognized yourself either.
As you sipped on your coffee, contemplating whether or not to remind Susan of you, you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned to look it was a man in an old looking suit, wearing a fez and the cockiest smile you’d seen this year. You leaned back against the counter, amused.
“You’re new in town, aren’t ya?” You hummed, deciding to play along. “Yes, I suppose so.” He leaned against the counter as well, his eyes never leaving yours. “I knew it. Well, let me tell ya, a pretty woman like yourself should not be wandering about these woods on her own. There are a lot of dangerous creatures lurking just off the main road. But don’t you worry, I will gladly give you a tour of the town, showing you all the places to avoid. And also the places to stop by more often.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at you at the last sentence. You couldn’t help but laugh at his silly flirting. Behind him in a booth two children groaned in an exaggerated way. He looked back at them with a frown. “Hey! Let a man have a conversation.”
Ah, he must be their uncle? Or something? You just smiled at him. Cocky, flirty, broad shoulders and responsible enough to take care of kids. If you had known that a guy like this lived here you would have come back years ago.
“I would gladly take your offer, Mister…?” You trailed off, inviting him to introduce himself, which he did. “Pines. Stan Pines, at your service.” He grinned at you and you nodded as you gave him your first name as well and continued. “Mister Pines. Unfortunately, I have some urgent business I need to take care of first. Perhaps we can postpone this tour?”
The man looked a little deflated at first, but quickly brightened up again at your question. “How about tomorrow evening. We meet here again for dinner. And after that we’ll take a stroll through town?” “Sounds lovely.” Stan clapped his hands together and winked at you before he went back to the booth with the kids.
By that point you had finished your coffee and headed out to look for Pacifica and her parents. You didn’t see it but as you left Stan looked after you, very obviously staring at your ass and grinning. He’d love to get his hands on that.
When you found them you got the basics settled first. Get them some place to stay the night. Then you got them a new set of clothes, their current ones being torn and dirty. That’s how you spent the entire rest of the day, pulling your brother and his family out of the hole he had dug them into.
You made it a point to hold it over his head though, that you managed to get rich on your own while he couldn’t even keep the money he inherited. He was mad at you the entire time but he couldn’t refute your words, you were correct after all. All throughout this you noticed the way Pacifica looked up at you with bright eyes.
To Pacifica you very quickly became her role model. Confident and strong-willed and most importantly, not taking any shit from her dad. She clung to you, asking you countless questions and admiring you for every choice you had made, especially standing your ground and moving away from the family.
She had heard rumors about her dad’s sister, but until today she had never actually met you. Obviously, her dad didn’t want her to get any ideas from you. You, the black sheep of the family.
Seeing Preston crawl back to you now, after all those years, was incredibly satisfying to you. If you’d also get to help turn his own daughter away from his precious ‘family values’ then you’d proudly call you her aunt.
While you were out helping your family, the Pines had also gone back to the Shack, now relaxing in front of the TV. Mabel was texting on her phone with Candy and Grenda. Suddenly, she gasped after having read the newest text from Candy. “There’s more of them?!”
Dipper and Stan looked at her in confusion. “Who?” Dipper asked, but Mabel ignored him, just stared at her phone as another text appeared. “She was at Greasy’s Diner? Today? We were there today! How did we not see her!?” Dipper was starting to get frustrated with Mabel ignoring him, so he placed his hand over her screen, making her look up at him.
“Who are you talking about?” “Pacifica’s aunt! Candy says that she heard her mom talk to her friend on the phone who told her that another Northwest came to Gravity Falls today. Apparently, she wants to help them now that they’re homeless.” Stan bellowed a laugh.
“Serves that slimy Northwest right! Blood runs thicker than water after all. Even he needs to learn that.” Ford, who was also enjoying movie night with his brother and the kids, looked at Stan. He had forgotten how much of a family man Stan really was.
Dipper frowned. “Okay, sure. But if she can help them out then that means she is also rich. Who’s to say she is any better than Pacifica’s parents?” Stan scoffed. “She probably isn’t. But who cares. Hopefully, they’ll just leave Gravity Falls together now and we won’t have to bother with them anymore.”
Dipper turned back to look at the TV. “Yeah, hopefully…” He mumbled, although he didn’t quite mean it. He hated to admit it, but he had started to like Pacifica a little.
The topic was dropped after that and movie night continued.
The next day came and went rather quickly for you. There was a lot for you to do, to get your brother on the right track again. So much so that in that haze you almost forgot about your date with Stan. But you remembered and soon excused yourself, leaving them in the motel room you had rented them.
You went back to Greasy’s and met up with Stan, who immediately greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and his hand on the small of your back as he led you inside. He truly was a man of action and you appreciated that about him. There was a certain honesty in his behaviour which came as a refreshing change to the cold mask your brother and his wife had learned to live with.
“So, what was this business of yours that was more important than the best date you’ll ever have?” The way he was presenting himself in his seat, one arm over the backrest and the other resting on the table, while he looked at you through half-lidded eyes and a smirk on his lips. You loved this. It was silly in a way, but it was so different from the way you were raised that it left you feeling giddy.
“Oh, just some old family squabble. Nothing important.” A lie, of course, at least to some degree, but you knew that your family was hated in this town. And for good reason. So you didn’t want to taint his view of you before he got to know you properly.
“Hm, yeah, I get that. My brother and I had a rough time these last few decades as well.” His smirk had faded and you missed it already. Even so, you asked: “I’m so sorry. Where is your brother now? Did you manage to work it out with him?” Stan chuckled lightly at you and his smirk returned. “Well, considering that I live in his house… Yes, I’d say so.”
You chuckled as well. Now this was something you and your brother would never be able to achieve.
The two of you had a very nice dinner together and talked about everything and nothing. It was a fantastic date. When you left the Diner you turned to look at Stan again. He was already grinning at you and held his arm out for you to take. “Now, onto the tour?” You laughed and gladly looped your arm through his. You had already forgotten about this part of the date.
You strolled through the woods. Stan told you all kinds of fantastical stories about monsters and little supernatural critters that are said to live in these woods. You didn’t believe a word of it, of course, but it was fun to play along.
After about twenty minutes you had reached a wooden house in the middle of the forest. It looked like it was supposed to attract tourists, with a big sign on the top that read ‘Mystery Shack’.
“And this,” Stan made a grand gesture, as if revealing the house to you, “is my humble home. Well, my brother’s, but you get it.” You chuckled lightly and pulled his arm closer to yours again. “Yeah, I’m starting to.”
Stan led you inside, telling you about his family. You were starting to get really excited to meet them. Stan had talked so highly of them, you were sure to like them.
Something you didn’t know was that throughout your entire date, Pacifica had followed you. She was curious who you’d agree to go on a date with, especially so soon after arriving in the town. She was shocked, to say the least, when she saw you and Stan Pines entering the Diner. She was even more shocked when he led you to his home.
After you had entered, she stayed outside for a while, pacing back and forth and considering whether or not to confront you about it. Eventually, she decided to do just that.
Inside the Shack Stan had already introduced you to the kids, Mabel and Dipper, and also his twin brother Ford. It was very sweet, especially when you quickly realized that the kids were very similar to their great uncles. Or grunkles, as they put it. They were such a charming family and you envied them for it a little.
After a little bit of sitting together with them you heard a knock at the door. “Any of you expecting someone?” Stan asked around the room and everyone shook their heads. Dipper stood up and went to open the door. In front of him stood Pacifica.
“What do you want, Pacifica?” At the name your ears perked up. What was she doing here? You told her to stay with her parents. Then again, you wouldn’t have stayed with them either.
“Your great uncle went on a date with my aunt. I want to know why.” Everyone turned to face you, even Dipper craned his neck around the doorway to look at you with his mouth hanging open. Mabel was the first to speak up. She stood on her chair and pointed at you. “You are a Northwest?! …How? You are so… different!”
You chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, well, they don’t call me the black sheep of the family for nothing.” At that Stan’s expression immediately softened again. Being the odd one out in your family was something he could relate to.
By now Dipper and Pacifica had walked into the room as well. Pacifica had her arms crossed in front of her and looked at you like she was trying to figure you out. “I get that. But why… him?” She gestured towards Stan who frowned at her. You just shrugged your shoulders.
“He’s exactly my type. Plus! He seems to have the same kind of… affinity for making a quick buck like I do.” You smirked at Stan and he returned with a smirk of his own. In a way, you two were quite similar.
Pacifica groaned in frustration and turned to Dipper. “No way. I get a cool new aunt who immediately dates your stinky grunkle? This is unfair.” “Well, I’m about to be your stinky uncle as well!” Stan laughed loudly and soon enough everyone at the table joined in, even Pacifica.
#gravity falls#gravity falls x reader#zigreth writes#stanley pines#stanley pines x reader#stan pines x reader
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Powder Blues AU
So I've been thinking about the different ways Powder×Jinx could work given that Jinx leaves Zaun and Piltover.
I think it'd be a slowburn in regards to Powder being able to see Vi and Ekko, and a slowburn between Jinx and Powder. In a things-get-worse-before-they-get-better way. So welcome to this AU I made for them!
I got inspired by one of my fav fics where two siblings' bodies get molecularly mashed into a single one thanks to a quirk--but retains the consciousness of both siblings. Much like how our Ekko hopped into Powder's Ekko through the arcane anomaly!! Except the other Ekko didn't retain any sort of control or consciousness.
(https://archiveofourown.org/works/45335362 if u wanna check it out. Its MHA--Touya and Fuyumi centric, wonderfully written)
Powder would probably try to account for that--but what if she wasn't completely succesful?
So Jinx and Powder are stuck in the same body sharing control instead of complete separation. They can't hear each others thoughts, so they have to talk with the same mouth (taking turns) if they want to communicate.
This has so much potential for various scenes!! But here's my idea for how it goes:
---
Powder finds that she has to convince Jinx she's real and not just another facet of Jinx's mental instability. As Jinx is currently wandering Demacia via airship, Powder is trying to convince Jinx to visit Vi and Ekko.
With enough willpower, Powder finds she can move Jinx's body---up until Jinx starts fighting for control of those parts again (like if Powder is doing something Jinx really doesn't want to aka going back to Zaun and Piltover)
Gaining control is kind of a coin toss over who has the most willpower and focus on moving the way they want when theyre fighting for control.
They find out that when one of them sleeps, the other has unimpeded control.
So every step farther away from Zaun Jinx takes, Powder retraces them when she has control. Keeps hoping eventually Jinx will get tired of running and let her go back.
Needless to say, they don't get along very well at the beginning due to clashing goals.
Resentment wells up in Powder, stuck in Jinx's body. It keeps growing until she becomes bitter. Sad. Her comments about Jinx's actions during the day to day adventures go from curious, exasperated, etc--to attempts at cutting insults and dry, sarcastic mockery. Tired. She's exhausted with Jinx's shit.
She's so close to seeing Vi, yet so far.
---
On the other side of the coin; Jinx feels like she's just gone some new kind of insane. But unlike Powder, she's grateful to have company (that can't die) again. At the start she just bickers with Powder for the fun of it, along with the rest of their conversations.
That changes when Powder uses Jinx's confessions/conversations to herself or her voices while thinking Powder was asleep. (Haven't decided what she'll use against Jinx, but I know Powder doesn't actually know/mean the full impact of what she said--she doesnt have the full picture of Jinx, yet. She's angry and fed up with Jinx and lashes out after week or months of trying to keep it in).
Jinx goes quiet. She doesn't talk to Powder for days after that.
---
Thats when their relationship starts to change.
With a few days of silence from Jinx, Powder uses that time to travel to Zaun/Piltover. But she stops outside the city, because the fact that Jinx retreated so far that she hasn't even tried to take back control the whole time worries Powder.
She apologizes for what she said, and talks about the feelings that had been festering since she arrived in Jinx's body. About Vi (and Ekko).
Still no reply.
So Powder gives herself a day to explore Zaun and Piltover without looking for Ekko or Vi. Tries to get Jinx to talk while exploring the cities, but it just ends up with her continuously having one sided conversations. Powder finds she doesn't mind, though. Somehow she knows Jinx is listening.
Powder shares all the differences she sees in Jinx's reality vs her world. Tells Jinx stories about her family. Ekko. Benzo. Heimerdinger. Mylo. Claggor. Vander. Silco.
Vi.
While she told Jinx that her Vi is dead, she never shared the intimate details of the experience.
This time, she tells Jinx how it happened. How it felt. What it's been like for her all these years mourning and missing Vi.
How Jinx's Ekko showed Powder what she looked like in this world when he visited.
How much she just wants to see her sister. To hug her one more time.
Up on a rooftop alone and looking down at the two cities, Powder lets herself cry out everything that's been rotting in her the past few months living in Jinx's body.
When she's done, it's Jinx that carefully wipes Powder's tears away. That whispers hoarsely, "I'll take you to her."
---
next up in this AU is a Vi, Jinx, and Powder reunion (+ Cait and Ekko)
---
Bonus: I like to think that Jinx would ask for more stories of Silco and Vander.
#what do i call this au#powjinx au??#the powderblue au??#i know someone suggested that as a ship name but it'd be a cute au name too#also anyways trust the process it'd be a slowburn#powder blues au#haha get jt#like. blue as in sad. but also the colour powder blue. but also Powder. blue. isnalshdkdnkd im sry pls forgive me#explaining it just makes it worse i know#if anyone wants to join in on this feel free to!#arcane#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2#arcane s2#jinx#arcane season 2 spoilers#jinx arcane#vi arcane#powder#powder arcane#powjinx#powderblue#powder x jinx#ekko#ekko arcane#caitlyn kiramman#au powder#vi#league of legends
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Day 26: Thunder
Childe x Scaramouche
[Miya & Mia’s Tickletober 2023] - I had forgotten about this one!
Word Count: 1.1K
Scaramouche was angry. Of course he was angry. Aether asked to meet at the Avidya Forest to explore a newly discovered domain together. Problem one: Aether did not show up. Problem two: ...
“What are you doing here,” Scara growled angrily at the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Childe.
“I was asked to join this domain adventure with the Traveler. What about you?" Childe said merrily. Scara couldn't believe Aether invited Childe without telling him. He decided to ignore Childe's question.
Also problem three:
"It's raining a lot isn't it?" Childe said. Raining? This was a huge storm. Scara and Childe were both seeking shelter in a small cave near the spot where they had been waiting a while for the Traveler, who didn't show up.
After the storm got worse and Scara even almost lost his hat because of the wind, they moved to this cave and continued to wait for the rain to end, and also, for Aether to finally show up. It better be fast.
"...So. Hat guy," Childe said.
"Don't call me that."
"Hat guy. You've been collaborating with our dear Traveler lately? I'm impressed you were invited."
"...." Scaramouche really felt zero motivation to engage in this conversation. So he didn't. Childe continued to chat on his own.
"He hasn't asked me lately. So when I met him the other day, I told him I don't like staying behind. I was then informed of this new domain discovery he wished to look into, and said I was free to join. Sumeru wasn't exactly on my route but still I came. And now instead of going on an adventure with Aether, I'm stuck here with you. Such an impressive turn of events. Oh. Was that lightning just now?"
Scara had been listening to Childe's babbling in annoyance and silence. But he did look up when he saw the flash too. He nodded.
"Must be," he said, and it got confirmed by the loud sound of thunder. Scara made the mistake to twitch in surprise. Even though the lightning had already warned them, the thunder was closer than expected. Closer and louder.
"Scared of some thunder, Wanderer?" Childe asked him. Scara continued to stare at the rain and he didn't move an inch, refusing to look at Childe or react when he stood closer to him, their shoulders almost touching.
"Whenever my younger siblings were scared of thunder, I'd cheer them up. Help them get over their fear. Let go of it. Find peace."
"...."
Keep on ignoring Scara, you're doing great! He would almost give himself such cringe encouragement.
"It has worked every single time. Just some of my magic, and they wouldn't be scared anymore."
"...."
"If you think of it, it's nice to know a way to reduce fear of thunder. The skies are what we can't control. So fear of it has to be taken care of with positivity.
"........"
"Want me to show you how I would do that?"
That Childe really talked too much!!!
"No need." Childe stepped closer again and now their shoulders were literally touching, so Scara sighed and wanted to move away. Only…
"Hyah!!" he yelped when too large hands grabbed his waist and squeezed. He flailed his arm in surprise, but Childe caught it and started to tickle his side with his free hand.
"Well like this of course!" Childe sang as if Scaramouche had told him yes.
"No! Nohoho whahahat the hehehell!" Scara laughed at the sudden assault. The move surprised him, and above all, confused him.
"Whahahat ahahare you - nahhawh stahahap you lohohoser!" Scara laughed when Childe dug mercilessly into his ticklish sides.
"Just a bit of this, and fear of thunder? Gone. Isn't it incredible?" Childe said, casually following Scara down when he sank through his knees on the cold ground.
"Fuhuhhuck you ahahasshole! I'm not scahahared of t-thahaha-!" Scara wiggled and squirmed helplessly like a miserabele little worm. Childe's tickle attack came so unexpected that he couldn't have prepared himself. And now that he was already down, laughing at the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger's mercy, he couldn't find the strength for a proper counter attack. The power of Anemo wasn't really on his side, not in times of tickle-wreckings, it seemed.
"Oh, did you see that?" Childe asked. Scara didn't see anything. His eyes were squeezed shut as he fought his embarrassing reactions to the tickling. Already soon came the loud noise of the thunder again, so Childe must've been talking about another lightning flash. Not that Scara cared.
"Gehehet ohoohoff mehehe!" he barked, still enduring the pretty merciless attack of tickles. Like, Childe appeared calm and his movements weren't too firm at all. Yet he proved to possess some skill and technique even when it came to something stupid like this. Scara just couldn't move properly and could only feel those fingers creeping around his torso while his bare legs scratched against de cold stone ground as they kicked uncontrollably.
"And here too. Tummy tickles work really well on thundery nights," Childe instructed, easily flipping Scaramouche on his back so he could claw at his tummy.
"AHAHah I doohon't need your stuhuhupid - wahahah!" he roared. The storm slowly started to fade, and no more thunder was heard. So Childe also stopped tickling him.
"Hmm. How was that?" he asked with a smirk. Scara glared at him but felt too tired to throw a fit.
"Go to hell." He did have the energy left to say that. It earned him another quick tickle attack on his tummy though.
"STOHOHOP!" he howled dramatically, rolling over and gripping Childe's hand that attacked his stomach. Right at that moment, Aether arrived. Of course he did, great timing.
"Here you are! I was looking for you. Sorry I'm late," he said, and immediately followed up with: "Oh."
A smirk appeared on his face. "Am I disturbing something?" he asked while Paimon let out a squeaky gasp, and she hid herself behind Aether in embarrassment. Childe calmly patted Scara's tummy and got up, clapping his hands.
"We were only waiting for the storm to finish. And I helped Hat Guy deal with his fear. Thunder can be quite scary you know."
"I wasn't scared!" Scaramouche yelled. More like squeaked. He quickly gulped and covered his mouth. All that laughter had done things to his voice.
"Yeah yeah. So Traveler, are we ready to go?" Childe asked. Aether nodded.
"Sure. Are you ready too?" Aether asked, looking at Scara who was slowly getting back on his feet, blushing like crazy. He nodded quietly. Ah, he felt too embarrassed.
"Alright, let's go." Aether went ahead, leading the way, but Childe turned his head and glanced back at Scara. He smiled, and gave him the wink of cringe. A wink that made Scara blush furiously.
"No grudges please. I only had good intentions," Childe chirped, and he quickly went after Aether before Scara could snap at him. That... That guy! Scara stomped after them. Just you wait, Childe. He was going to get him back for this, someday, somehow. Just. You. Wait!
#queue#genshin impact#chiscara#childe#scaramouche#wanderer#tickling#tickle fic#tickletober#tickletober 2023#otomiya!writes
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Break - Part I
Book: The Royal Romance Pairing: Liam Rys x MC (Jade) Rating: M Word count: 2124 Reading time: ~8min Summary: After dinner in Fydelia, Liam sent a message to Jade asking her to meet him so he explain why he didn't stood up for her and chose Madeleine to be fiancee. But neither of them were ready to face the outcome of their conversation. Based on the prompt: @kingliamappreciationweek day 4: Relationships
Author's note:
Jade Bourbon is a creation of this author. The other characters belong to Pixelberry Studios;
This year's KLAW brought me back to the days I wrote incessantly about Liam, so I decided to revisit some old fics and revamp them. This piece was originally part of Coming Back With a Bang, but because I've been frustrated with book two scene in the balcony with Liam since 2018 and my attempt to write a fix-it fic then lacked emotion, I'm rewriting it and hoping this time I can do justice to Jade and show how she felt;
There may be some lines from canon in here. I just don't know which ones 😅
Thanks to @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes for hosting KLAW again. I don't know if a rewritten fic will be accepted, but regardless it is or not, thank you for once again inspiring me with prompts to write Liam.
While Maxwell waited outside the ladies room, Jade looked at herself in the mirror and heaved a sigh. She was a mess. Sure, she could fix her makeup and go back out there. But what for? Watching Madeleine snaking her hands over him? For more people to tell her how she became a pariah in the kingdom and should just leave? What was the point of all this anyway?
Turning on the sink, she washed her hands and placed them on the back of her neck to freshen up. She was still resolute not to give up. But for the night, she had enough.
As she walked out of the ladies room, Maxwell stood up from the settee with his usual encouraging smile.
"You seem better."
"Thanks..." She simpered. "Can I go back to my room now? We congratulated the happy couple, toasted, dined on their honor and blah blah blah..." Jade gesticulated as she twisted her lips in annoyance.
"Sure. I think the staff already has it cleaned. I'm kinda beat too."
"Let's go then."
Lacing arms with her friend, Jade and Maxwell walked towards the grand staircase.
"Wait, we don't have to go back and say goodnight to them, do we?" Jade made a face.
"Nah... It's okay. It's been a long day for all of us."
"Tell me about it..."
A soft knock on the door echoed in the room, waking Jade up. She had no idea how much time had passed or who could be knocking on her door right now.
After getting out of bed and taking a quick look in the mirror, she reached for a robe and answered the door.
"Hey you!” Her eyes soften at the sight of Maxwell. “What’s with the flowers?”
“Special delivery!” Maxwell beamed as he walked in carrying a huge red roses arrangement. “Housekeeping sent over a new centerpiece for your end table.”
"Now?"
"The staff apologized for sending it so late, but they thought it'd be nice for you to wake up and see the flowers."
"Aw, it really is nice..." She smiled, burying her nose on the centerpiece to smell the roses when she noticed a small envelope wrapped around one of the stems.
Opening the envelope, she picked up the note inside and her eyes rose in surprise.
“Oh, that’s Liam’s handwriting," Maxwell prompted.
"I wouldn't blame you if you're furious with me, but please meet me so I can at least explain. I'll be on the balcony outside my room in twenty minutes." - L.
As if pulled by a magnet, Jade walked outside to search for Liam's balcony.
Maxwell picked the note from the floor, read it while following Jade outside. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"
"I shouldn't..." Jade bit down her lip as her eyes began to water.
“Hey..." Maxwell approached her, placing his hand on her arm. "I cannot imagine how much it stung to see him with Madeleine. But Liam wouldn't send you this if he didn't think he owed you an explanation."
"Should I go?"
"You're my friend, but I'm also his friend and I kinda want to say 'hell yeah! Go get your man!'" Maxwell enthused, making her giggle, but immediately his features grew a bit serious. "I'm rooting for you two, but if you say it's too much for you right now, I'll get it."
Jade chewed on a nail.
“Whatever you decide, I'll support you. Don't forget to get some rest, okay?”
"Thanks, Max."
"Have a goodnight, Little Blossom." Maxwell said as he left the balcony and then left her room.
Alone once again, Jade mulled over Liam's note and remembered their encounter earlier. The way he gazed at her, complimenting her, kissing her hand as gentle and passionate as ever, his eyes searching for hers throughout the dinner...
Jade walked back into the room and searched for the nicest yet comfortable clothes she had in the closet. She needed to be ready to climb his balcony if necessary, but still look her best in case they end things. Maybe he did have an explanation. She just hoped it'd be a good one.
As soon as Jade stepped into the garden, her eyes darted to Liam's balcony. As one of his fingers idly ran on the rim of a nearly empty wine glass, Liam sat by himself, lost in thought. Ignoring her racing heart and dry mouth, she walked towards the pillar under his balcony and hoped she could not only climb it, but manage to tell him everything that was choked inside her.
“Jade!” Liam murmured in surprise as he rushed to help her get into his balcony.
Her feet barely had touched the ground when Liam swept her into his arms. His nose buried on her hair, tears fell down her cheeks as the inebriating scent of his cologne overtook her. It was so hard not to lose herself in his embrace. If there was any place she yearned to be again, it was certainly within his arms.
Yet, flashes of coronation night and the dinner earlier came to her, reminding her of her current situation. Reality always seemed to hit her as hard as a slap on the face.
After wiping her tears discreetly, Jade pulled away from his eyes and said, “You're engaged."
Liam swallowed hard and nodded.
"We need to talk."
“Yes, of course. It’s just…" Liam took a step closer, gazing into her eyes. "Damn, Lady Jade, how I’ve missed you.”
Jade averted her gaze for a moment to gather strength and say what she had to tell him. “Aren’t you going to ask me if it’s true?”
“No. I don’t need to ask to know it was a set up.”
“You knew?”
Her eyebrows rose as she tried to process what he said.
"You knew?!" As she repeated, a wave of anger took over her. “Then why? Why did you let me go?" Her eyes glisten with tears again. "Why didn't you try to reach out to me? Why did I have to hide like a criminal if you knew I was the victim? Why did you have to choose… her?” Her lips quivered, her emotions taking the best of her as she cried again.
"Oh, Jade..." Liam whispered, pulling her back into his arms. "If only you knew how much I wanted to tell you that I believe you, that I always knew you'd never spoken more than a few words to Tariq because you were simply polite to him... But I couldn't."
Her hands balled into fists as she tried to push him away, yet Liam didn't let go. She continued, hitting his chest harder as hot tears streamed down her face.
And in spite of it all, Liam didn't pull away nor tried to defend himself. He simply continued to hold her as tight as he could. When she finally hugged him back, Liam kissed her forehead in adoration. He waited for as long as it took her for her to calm down then led her to the settee so they could talk.
"Why did you say you couldn't?"
"Though I knew it was set up because Drake told me about the broken lock on your door, I had no proof. No one knows where Tariq is, who could've told him to go to your room. Someone had gone to great lengths to frame you." A muscle in his jaw twitches. "If I chose you that night or tried to remain in touch with you or the Beaumonts, I might have put you in greater danger."
"Oh?"
"I haven't told you about my mother."
"You mentioned she died when you were young."
"The details of passing weren't disclosed to the press, but she was poisoned."
Jade's mouth fell open.
"We still don't know who caused my mother's death. And if that person is still out there, walking freely into the country estate that was built to be secure..." He shook his head. "I can't think about the possibility of losing you, Jade."
Jade chewed on a lip, not knowing what to say.
"I'll regret what I did at the Coronation for the rest of my life because it hurt you and I'm sorry that it happened as it did. But in that moment, the only thing that I could think of to keep you safe was to make whoever is behind this believe that they won. But I am so, so sorry... This must have been miserable for you."
Liam reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles.
"You could've called..." Jade murmured.
"I had to make it seem like I had no more ties with you. But I knew you were safe at Ramsford. Bertrand kept you distracted with etiquette, ballroom dancing and Cordonian history lessons."
Her eyes widened. "How do you know that?"
"Bertrand and I talked briefly through a secure line. I told him to cut you slack so you could have time to go jogging. I heard you were playing the piano sometimes..."
"He did keep you up to speed," she concluded, still annoyed.
"In case you were wondering, we only had short calls. If I had talked to you, I wouldn't be satisfied with a one minute call every now and then."
"Me neither..." Jade sighed. "Okay... I guess it makes sense. But I still have one question. Why her?"
"Madeleine is different from the other suitors. We never really got along, she doesn't care about that I feel nothing for her. I couldn't ask any of the other ladies to go through an arrangement like this. I wouldn't want to hurt anyone else's feelings."
"But you don't care about Madeleine?"
"You've had time to talk to her."
"Unfortunately... Is she awful with you too?"
"To put it mildly..." Liam made a face.
"I thought she was mean to us girls because we were competition."
"Perhaps it was, but in my opinion, that's Madeleine being herself."
"This arrangement you have with her…" Jade pressed her lips together, struggling to think about what she was going to ask. "Does it make me your mistress?”
“Hardly. You’re the woman I love. The only one.” Liam locked his fingers through hers. “I know this is not what any of us hoped for, but all I could think about at that moment was finding a way to keep you in my life.”
“Liam, I—" She shook her head. “This is a lot.”
“I know. But my hope is that it's all temporary. Just until we find whoever schemed against you. After all of this, if you still have me, our love won't have to be a secret.”
“But what if we can't find who did this?"
"I'll still be all yours even if I have to marry Madeleine. But if you don't want it, I..." He trailed off, then took a deep breath. "I won't stand on your way."
As tears welled up on her eyes once again, Liam went down one knee and cupped her cheek, wiping a tear with his thumb. “Stay."
"Liam..."
"I'm talking about tonight. Stay here. I need to see with my own eyes that you’ll be safe.”
Jade sobbed. This was too much. Becoming his mistress was a hard limit for her. Yet, how could she leave him if every part of being came alive under his gaze? Unable to find words to express what she felt, she just sat there and sobbed while Liam took a plce by her side again, pulling her close in his arms.
It was still dark when Jade woke up. Around her waist, one of Liam’s arms pressed her back against his chest. On the sleeve of his shirt, makeup stains. Signs of how much all of this has been tough on them.
She took a deep breath, taking in the scent of his aftershave lingering on the pillow, the warmth of his arm and chest protecting her. She knew deep inside he would do anything to shield her from insults, dirty looks and any threats. But it still was a lot for both of them.
“Liam,” she whispered, rubbing his hand.
He frowned a little before opening his eyes.
“Hey...” she turned to face him and gave him a weak smile.
Hey,” he said, stifling a yawn. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I just have to go back to my room now.”
“Of course. Let me talk to the guards outside first.”
He then got out of the bed, ran a hand in an attempt to fix his tousled hair and opened the door. A couple of minutes later, he returned.
“You can take the hallway. None of the guards will ask questions. As far as they're concerned, you were never here,” he said, placing his hands inside his pockets.
“Thank you.”
Jade sat up, put her flats back on her feet and headed to the door.
“Jay...” he called, taking one of her hands before she reached the doorknob. “What about us? Will we be okay?”
“I hope so... But I need time to think. It’s a lot to process.”
Liam nodded, looking down at her hand as his thumb stroked her mother’s ring on her finger.
“Hey," she uttered, cupping his cheek gently. "We're not over. I just..."
"I know."
Before they could think about it, her arms wrapped his neck as his hands clenched on the back of her sweater. Would things change between them if they stayed away from each other? Would life give them another chance? They didn't know. But as far as anyone else knew, there was no way back for them.
#choices fanfic#the royal romance#king liam#liam x mc#kingliamappreciationweek#klaw day 4#lorirwritesfanfic#lorircreates
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Tommy stares down at his phone. If he were a better man he would delete the message and pretend he didn't see it, for both their sakes.
No. That's not right.
If he were a better man, a message like this wouldn't even be necessary. They would be spending the holiday together like they planned, curled up on the sofa like two parentheses watching movies before heading over to the Grant-Nashes for dinner. It's the kind of perfect world fantasy that always used to give him hope when he was a child, lonely and bruised and high off a concoction of drugs he almost hoped would kill him. But he's older now, and that fantasy is still just a fantasy.
He starts to type:
Thank you for teaching me what it felt like to be loved. I'm sorry I wasn't enough.
I miss you and I'm sorry.
Happy Thanksgiving.
He deletes them all and turns his phone off for a handful of seconds before impulsively turning it back on again. He brings up his and Buck's text thread and, before he can think better of it, texts back:
❤️
He doesn't know what it means. Doesn't even know what he wants it to mean, but the thought of not sending anything in response makes him sicker than thought of just sending a stupid fucking emoji.
He waits for a response, nauseous like he was the day after their first failed date, and then decides he's being kind of a teenager about the whole thing. But before he can turn his phone off again, it vibrates in his hand. He hesitates before unlocking his screen, unsure if he even wants to read the message. Is he playing with Buck's feelings by sending him a heart? Is he playing with his own feelings? Buck was just trying to be nice, he might have already moved on (and doesn't that make him dizzy to contemplate), and here Tommy is sending him hearts out of the fucking blue —
He opens the message... and laughs.
🦃❤️🦃😭 🍽️👎🏻
(Translation: What if I was a turkey and you were a turkey and we were two turkeys who were sad and miserable on Thanksgiving)
Tommy's throat tightens as he presses dial on Buck's number, laughter warring with grief warring with fondness. Evan answers on the first ring.
Tommy clears his throat. "You know what I think?"
"Tell me."
"I think..." He takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what he's only just discovered he's going to say. "I think we should call a truce. One day only. You, me, a couple movies, and definitely not talking about our complicated turkey feelings. How does that sound?"
Buck hums. "Sounds good, one on condition."
Tommy freezes. He waits for the rejection and hopes the fear doesn't come across in his voice. "What's that?"
"You help me eat the embarrassing amount of desserts I've made while trying not to call you."
"How many?"
"Including the ones I've given away? About thirty-ish."
There's a lot to unpack there, way too much for one impulsive conversation. Tommy nods even though Buck can't see him.
"Well, hey, you throw in a carrot cake and you have a deal."
"Tommy," Buck says seriously. "I have three carrot cakes."
Tommy grins, despite himself. Warning bells go off in his brain and he ignores every single one of them. "Careful, Buckley, or this truce might end up being more than one night."
"Might not be the worst thing."
Tommy swallows. His grin slides off his face as he looks around his empty home. It looks lifeless and hollow, a cold mausoleum where all his hopes went to die. For the first time since the breakup, he allows himself to remember what his home looked like, what it felt like when it was filled with his boyfriend, when it was filled with love. How safe and warm it was, and how it could feel again.
"No," Tommy says softly, and he swears even across the distance of the phone, he can feel some of that warmth even now. "Might not be the worst thing."
living in a world where buck decides holidays don’t count and texts tommy a sweet and earnest, “even though i wish we had more, i’m thankful for the time we did get together. happy thanksgiving tommy.”
#I wrote this in the car and made myself soooo so sick omg hope it's ok that I added this lol#tv: 911#otp: eye of the storm
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So I answer this phone call, and the lady is like “I’m getting the documentation to approve this” and I’m like oh thank GOD but then she says “I have to order you specific ear plugs that the company approves of :)” and I’m like “wait ear plugs as in to cancel all noise” and she’s like “yes :)” and I’m like “no this was about ear buds or headphones, things being completely silent is just as bad if not worse for my sensory issues” and she gets real quiet and is like “I’m a going to have to talk to your doctor about this then for some more clarification” and I’m like HFDJSIDKJDKDJDK that is what the letter SAIDD it specified ear buds so I can play things that I know help regulate my sensory issues and it also said in the letter to contact my therapist if anyone had more questions why are we even having this conversation are you fucking stupid it’s already been a MONTH since I turned all this in and now I have to wait even fucking longer because no one can read and wants to be as difficult as possible
#also the entire call she kept saying shit like ‘it’s very normal for ppl with your conditions to have sensory issues it’s nothing#to be ashamed of 🥺’#like girl…. I never said I was ashamed why are you saying that…..#also hate hate hate that she specified they had to be ‘specially ordered and company approved ear plugs sent directly to the warehouse’#if they end up clearing this but do the same thing with ear buds I’m gonna lose my shit#just let me use MINE that connect to MY PHONE that I already HAVE that I like the adjustments on I’m BEGGING 😭😭😭#also she kept specifying that I could use a ‘calming app’ or ‘calming noise’ maybe once I said ear buds#if they try and tell me I can only use ‘company approve software’ for this I’m going to LOSE my shit#like no if you try and make me listen to the fucking ocean or like smooth instrumental shit for eight hours I will snap and go insane#I regulate with screamo and metal and edm THATS what helps with my sensory issues#overly ‘calm’ things tend to make them WORSE#I’m just so tired….. like idk could we maybe just trust that disabled ppl know what they need for themselves more than randos who had like#two conversations with them and then decided this was ‘better’#I’m so fucking tired#she also exclusively referred to me with my deadname the entire call#despite all my emails AND THE FUCKING LETTER FROM MY THERAPIST using my chosen name#like girl…. 😭😭😭😭😭#I hate it here I hate this company I hate it so much its unreal#kaz rambles
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I think Orym's position here is such a great one to depict, because the reality of any form of political organizing you will find someone who will not budge. This is fundamentally neutral, though someone like this can certainly have a position you find repugnant. It doesn't matter. This is the reality of dealing with that person. If someone will under no circumstances change their position - especially if it's informed by personal experience - that doesn't mean they are a good or bad person or their position is justified or not, but it does mean that to get them on your side, either you will have to find a way to appeal to them, not the other way around, or you will have to move forward without their support.
When encountering someone like this, you can bang your head against the brick wall and tell them about the superiority of your position for as long as you want, but unless you dip into threats and coercion or worse, you really cannot make them do anything they don't want to, no matter how eloquently you speak. There's considerable power in being that person.
(For what it's worth, I think he's perhaps the truest foil to Ludinus in this respect; I believe Ludinus's beliefs to be just as deeply ingrained and immutable. The key difference is that Orym is not in any way responsible for the death of Ludinus's family, or like, Molaesmyr, so when they move into the moral part of the argument instead of simply the blunt reality of unmoving objects, he does have a significant advantage.)
#my feeling re: bringing up will and derrig is that if the conversation can be shut down by that it should be shut down#if someone else has greater conviction in ludinus's position then by all means speak up. you can talk over him.#slash. have that conversation without him there. liam's got a backup character. orym can leave if bells hells decides to go vanguard#he's not precious about characters he'd do it#anyway i imagine after leaving ludinus was like well shit i fucked that up beyond repair before even knowing i had#and i better go with my contingencies bc somehow the two ruidusborn have found someone who will defend them unto death against me#which is very funny for me. maybe you could have gotten it all if you hadn't called a hit on Keyleth. but you did!#cr spoilers#absolutely incredible to demonstrate tanking but like. in conversation.
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least argumentative mal stan… (JOKE. JOKING THIS IS A JOKE I PROMISE.)
you got me!!! i’m actually an evil anti-feminist who hates women :( /sar
No defense for excusing the love spell, I see…
"it truly makes ME sick that you can be so hateful towards a teenage girl!” I’m a teenager. I spent most of my teenage years as a teenage girl, and a a victim of many of the forms of abuse that Mal employs. Hating Mal is a coping mechanism for me, and she is not real. Directing my anger onto her doesn’t harm anyone and I find it fun to critically engage with the media in this way. It’s funny to me that you’re trying to take some moral high-ground by calling me out for hating on a fictional teenage girl (Mal) when you also hate on a fictional teenage girl (Audrey).
"A teenage girl who grew up abused and was morally taught to do all the wrong things for her mother's attention and affection.” You know who’s also a teenage girl who grew up emotionally abused and taught to do morally questionable things as a way to get her caretaker (Queen Leah’s) attention and affection? Audrey.
"She didn't know any better.” Didn’t know any better is crazy because Mal's intentions were actively malicious. She was trying to hurt Ben and Auradon and take over the kingdom. “Not knowing any better” implies that the harm caused by her actions wasn’t intentional, when it explicitly was.
"Furthermore, Mal exhausted every other option before turning to the love spell.” Really? From what I saw, the love spell was not a very thought out decision. There was no real reason that Mal had to spell Ben. She tried, from your examples, three things before turning to the love spell? How does that make the love spell the last option (/gen question)? In my opinion, their attempt to break into the museum barely counted as an attempt to steal the wand given how poorly thought out it was. Her attempts to get the wand through Jane didn’t really go much farther than that one conversation in the bathroom from what I remember. While drugging Ben might be the 'easiest' option, that doesn't mean that it's not an awful thing to do. Spelling Ben was truly awful, and Mal decided to do it about two seconds after she learned that Ben's girlfriend gets to sit in the front row during the coronation (which didn't even help her much, since Jane, who wasn’t sitting next to Ben, managed to get the wand before Mal did). And to be honest, I don’t give a shit even if it was her only possible course of action. It was horrible to completely strip him of his autonomy in that way, and I can’t stand attempts to forgive or justify it. Ben deserves the truth about why she really cast the spell (to get the wand), he deserves a real apology, and he deserves to be recognized as a victim.
"What, did you think Maleficent would just take them failing in her plan lightly?” Maleficent was trapped on the Isle, with no feasible way of getting off besides the Core Four’s plan to get the wand. Her escape was purely based upon their actions.
"As well, Mal willingly and knowingly of the possible repercussions gave Ben the antidote, giving him back his choice.” Okay forgive me this is kind of off topic, but honestly, one of the things I’m most curious about is the mechanics of the love spell and its antidote within the Descendants canon. We really don’t know anything about it, and it’s kind of fascinating to me! The antidote seemed to be made with some of the same ingredients as the love spell itself in the movie (tear of human sadness), even though in Mal’s spellbook the process of the “anti-love spell” wasn’t described that way. If the spell hadn’t washed off in the Enchanted Lake and Ben just ate the brownie, would he even know he had been spelled at all? We know the spell causes emotional instability and irrational behavior, but does romantic contact with the caster negate the effects?
I really want to know how it works.
"Mal gave him that option, knowing that she'd most likely die for it, if Ben sent her back to the Isle and she didn't have the wand."
Alright, I think that “most likely die” is quite a stretch. Even though Mal gave him the brownie, she did not plan on him eating it before the Coronation (which was absolutely horrible planning on her part to give it to him before the Coronation started). She had every intention of stealing the wand with Ben still under her spell, and only after she had Maleficent taken over, reversing it. As Ben shows, he is immediately willing to forgive her for the love spell. Maybe Mal didn’t know he would do this, but she goes along with his excuse for her pretty easily. And even if she were sent back to the Isle, what would pose a threat to her? Maleficent, or the other villains, perhaps? The other villains wouldn’t pose a threat to Mal because of her status on the Isle, and given the context of their relationship, I strongly believe that Maleficent would never hurt Mal.
Despite the opinion of the majority of the fandom, I do not believe that their relationship was abusive (at least not to the extent that many people seem to think it is). Maleficent’s behavior has not affected Mal’s self-worth or emotional development in any negative way, nor did it impact her psychological capacity or emotional stability. While Maleficent was quick to criticize Mal in the beginning of the movie, she was also quick to praise her once Mal clarified the situation (“That’s my nasty little girl”). This criticism (the only criticism that we see Maleficent give), seemed to be given in a slightly teasing manner, intending to teach, not degrade. Maleficent never threatens Mal (neither with physical violence nor rejection), and shows affection/love (verbal commendation/praise). She shows her daughter support and guidance, as well as belief in her abilities. She has a whole song dedicated to giving Mal support and guidance about going to Auradon (to fulfill Maleficent’s plan of breaking the barrier, but still). Not that these are the only ways to spot abuse, but Mal also never showed the usual signs of psychological or emotional distress that come from abuse such as anxiety, depression, withdrawal, or aggression (one could argue that her “evil” exploits were signs of aggression, but those were all planned/controlled acts of “malice/evil,” and not lashing out against people she cared about or risking harm to herself). Maleficent could be considered manipulative (in the sense that she raised her daughter within her own belief system about the world) and forceful towards Mal, but there is canon evidence that their relationship wasn’t as terrible as many people would like to think. Maleficent truly believed that the best way to be successful in the world was to be “evil”. She believes she is right, and that she is teaching her daughter how to best find her way in the world. She does love Mal, and she wants her to have a good life. Not that Maleficent doesn’t have any selfish intentions with teaching her daughter evil and sending her to Auradon, but she never wanted to cause her daughter harm. She truly believed that the best thing for herself, and Mal secondarily, was to break the barrier and take over Auradon. Even if Maleficent’s moralities are not the best values to teach your child, she thought that they were. Maleficent is not a “good parent” by any means, but having her as a mother was not detrimental to Mal’s emotional well-being or development as a person in any way that could possibly excuse her actions and overall behavior.
In one of the final scenes in Descendants, where Maleficent crashes the Coronation, Mal tells Maleficent to go away and actively fights against her (throwing the wand to Fairy Godmother) with no consequences, not even a reprimand. In fact, Maleficent laughs it off and proceeds to show understanding (“You’ll get there”) and offer advice for what she believes to be Mal’s dilemma- Maleficent believes that Mal is confused about what she wants, and that she is only faltering from an “evil path” because she is unsure of herself. To be clear, I am not trying to defend Maleficent here, she is being controlling, manipulative, and a bad parent, but she never intentionally tried to harm Mal, nor did she ever threaten to. She did proceed to yell at Mal later in the scene, but she does so out of annoyance (“this is tedious and very immature”) and desire to control, not intent to harm. When Mal takes the wand from her, she just asks for it back. Forcefully, yes, but with no threats of violence or even withholding affection. She doesn’t harm or threaten to harm Mal’s friends either, she simply puts Dude back onto the floor, and when Jay tries to take her scepter she just knocks him away. And though she does turn into a dragon and breathe fire at Jay, I believe this was done as a show of power and a warning rather than actually trying to hurt him. She very easily could have killed him, Carlos, Evie, or Mal in this form, and had many opportunities, but does not make any real attempts to do so. Maleficent did not want to hurt Mal or her friends even when they actively sabotaged her. Therefore, while she would have been upset that Mal had failed, she would never have hurt her if she were sent back to the Isle, let alone have killed her. She would have protected and controlled her as she had always done.
There is the argument that this supposed “abuse” could have happened off screen, but when examining an on-screen relationship in a movie series, it holds little to no weight. This is a movie, and the portrayal of character relationships on screen is deliberate. What we see is how the characters were written to interact, and how that relationship was meant to be perceived; the characters interacted on screen how their relationship was written within for the movie, and therefore how it is within that movie. What we can glean from Mal’s scenes with Maleficent is limited, of course, but if the writers really wanted to imply that Mal was suffering from abuse at the hands of her mother, they would have made that much clearer to us, the audience.
One again, I am not trying to excuse Maleficent’s actions or defend her as a character. I am simply trying to thoroughly explain why the Isle was never and would never be a dangerous place for Mal, especially when Maleficent was there.
Point One: "Flat out KISSING another guy not even a minute after Ben had broken up with her DOES NOT really scream genuine/deep feelings for him.” I disagree. The fact that Audrey kissed Chad does not necessarily mean that she didn’t care for Ben. As I mentioned, the situation was most definitely heartbreaking and humiliating for her, so within the context her actions make more sense as an attempt to “save face” in front of her friends and peers. Her actions of randomly grabbing a boy and kissing him in front of a crowd of people speaks to emotional instability and deep hurt.
"And please do not give me the 'but it up to Ben to talk to her!' line.” Ben has no autonomy at this point in the story. The fault is on Mal completely. I will agree that Audrey’s lack of communication was immature and indicative/causatory of problems in their relationship, but the blame cannot be placed entirely on her either. Both Ben and Audrey had poor communication and did bad things to each other throughout the movie. Audrey should have talked to Ben, and Ben should have talked to Audrey. Both are to blame, both deserved better closure when it comes to their relationship.
Point Two: I agree with your response here, well said. /gen
Point 3: If you thought I was annoying before, just wait and see what happens when you try and come for my girl Uma. /lh
I will admit that I oversimplified the “drowning” incident, but I believe you are doing the same thing.
"However, an attempt to prank the especially mean Cruella De Vil leads Mal to seemingly falling off the docks and into the water. Uma laughs at her instead of saving her, only for Mal to surprise her and dump a bucket of shrimp on Uma in return. No matter how much Uma tried to wash her hair, the disgusting smell never left her locks.”
"One day, Uma thought Mal was drowning and went in to save her, but when she realized Mal wasn't drowning, Mal dropped a bucket of shrimp on her head before calling her "Shrimpy". Mal was threatened by Uma's evilness and felt that she needed to take out the competition."
These are quotes from the Descendants wikis (I unfortunately don’t have access to the book itself to check). As I stated, Mal wasn’t actually drowning. At least with my recollection of the book, what happened is that Uma laughed at what she thought was Mal falling in the water and then went into save her once she thought Mal was actually in danger of drowning. It is hard to say whether Uma’s initial reaction was due to genuine malice and wish to see Mal harmed, if she didn’t know Mal couldn’t swim (this interpreation makes the most sense to me, as I don’t think Mal would want to share that weakness), or if she (at least at first) realized that it was a prank. However, if Uma did have truly malicious intentions, I do not believe she would have gone in to save Mal.
"Mal could not afford to be "soft.”” Neither could Uma, due to the same expectations put on her by Ursula. And yet, despite this, she showed Mal genuined kindness and put herself in harm’s way to try to save Mal, and was assaulted and harrassed for it; by Mal, her former best friend who had decided to betray her.
"Furthermore, Uma gave as good as she got in the rivalry between them.” This is just my interpretation of the canon events, but I honestly don’t think that anything Uma did had quite the emotional devastation that Mal’s actions had. Threatening to kill Ben would be the highest on the list of Uma’s “evil deeds”, in my opinion, and that was not done just to hurt Mal.
"She went after Ben and turned up to cotillion deliberately and with malice just to hurt Mal.” OOF. Tell me you missed the point of the second movie without telling me you missed the point of the second movie (/hj).
Uma’s main intentions in kidnapping Ben were not just “to get back at Mal”. That’s an insanely reductive, blatant misinterpretation of her motivations and character. She went after Ben with the expressed intention of getting the wand- the same goal that Mal had just a movie before, and the very same context you used to justify her love spell, remember?
Mal cast a love spell on Ben while he was dating someone else. Ben had explicitly told Uma that he and Mal weren't together anymore.
Uma had no illusions about what she was doing. She knew that she was doing a pretty awful thing, but she really had no other choice. Mal, however, had a bunch of other options for how to steal the wand that she never bothered to look into, as well as no real time limit to come up with a plan, but she decided to just drug someone after barely even thinking about it.
Ben knew exactly why Uma spelled him. He still believes that Mal spelled him because she liked him. He doesn't have any idea that Mal spelled him for the exact same reason Uma did: to get the wand.
Uma had reason to hate Mal, unlike Mal to Audrey. Mal bullied Uma for years in a toxic friendship and then threw her to the sharks. Audrey was a little rude to Mal and that's it. And again, Mal and Ben were not dating at the time Uma cast the spell on him. But my point is, Uma was completely justified in taking a little pleasure in the fact that Mal was upset by her showing up at Cotillion.
Although their ultimate motives for spelling Ben were the same, the way they went about it was a little different. Mal cast a spell to make herself Ben's girlfriend. Her goal was to be in a relationship with Ben. She magically forced him into being in a relationship with her, and that was her motive the entire time. Uma wanted Ben to listen to her so that he would take down the barrier. She never wanted to be in a relationship with Ben or force him to be in a relationship with her. She only wanted him to listen to her and take down the barrier. Although the end result of both Mal and Uma's spells were the same, Ben "falling in love" with each of them, their thought process about it was entirely different.
Uma didn’t catch feelings for a person she had complete control over. Mal “fell for” Ben while she believed that he was under her love spell and therefore had no emotional autonomy and no control over what he did in response to those emotions that she created for him without his consent.
And finally, both Mal and Uma spelled Ben in an attempt to get the wand, but they wanted it for different reasons. Mal wanted the wand for her mother so that she and Maleficent could take over Auradon. Uma wanted the wand to free all the kids on the Isle from poverty. Uma's goal was never selfish or with bad intentions. She genuinely wanted a better life for every kid on the Isle.
"Uma may have been the original victim of the shrimp, yes, but she quickly lost 'victim' status with her actions afterwards.” No she didn’t. No matter what she did, she remained the victim of wrongful imprisonment from Auradon and bullying from Mal.
One thing that a lot of people don't seem to get about why Uma is a much better person than Mal is that Uma isn't selfish. Sure, sometimes she has a bad attitude, yes, sometimes she is mean. But she is never selfish like Mal is. Mal couldn't care less about helping any of the other kids get off the Isle, or even getting them aid or help. Uma did. Uma truly believed that other people should have the opportunities that both people in Auradon and the Core Four got, and she was so angry because she knew that the worst kid on the Isle, Mal, got the opportunity compared to all the other kids who were actually good people. Mal just did not care about anyone on the Isle after she got to Auradon.
Uma didn't go about her goal "the right way", but since when was that ever an option to her? Kids on the Isle don't get to, say, meet with royalty and negotiate getting themselves off prison. Uma saw one chance to do something for her people, and she took it. She was skewed as the villain for thinking it was unfair that Mal, her old bully, got to be the ruler of paradise while Uma and all the other Isle kids were left to suffer.
In defence of Mal getting her 'karma' by the love spell in D2, and the people smirking, 'now she knows how it feels!'
It. Is. Different! 1 Unlike Audrey, Mal has genuine feelings for Ben at that point. (and think about the context of that. This is a girl who has never truly romantically loved someone in her life. And now that she has the person she let have her heart is getting taken away) 2. Mal has just come off months of putting herself through hell/Tartarus trying to be what she thought Ben needed. So that she wouldn't cause him issues with being a VK and on the night it was all supposed to pay off, Ben turns up with another girl. 3 Even if it's unknown to Ben and Uma Mal knows that that's not just any girl taking Ben. It's her cousin, her family that's just a deeper level of low/hurt!
So no, you cannot compare Mal and Audrey's feelings in that moment because the context of the two situations was not the same.
#descendants#anti mal bertha#disney descendants#anti mal#anti bal#ben descendants#audrey descendants#ben florian#audrey rose#mal bertha#uma descendants#maleficent descendants#isle of the lost#descendants isle of the lost#descendants mal
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