#i must say... this show is beautifully shot

[tonyspank]

SHE 2

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

In a brand-new city, you're experiencing a new lifestyle. Jenna Ortega, your soon-to-be wife, must navigate your mixed emotions towards each other while raising your daughter. What happens when you start imagining a new life with someone else's wife?

This one shot includes mature themes such as foul language, sexual activity, acts of violence and etc.

Jenna and any other celebrities in this book are not famous unless said otherwise.

I hate this ending and possibly the entire thing but I hope you guys enjoy. Based off You S3!

You believed in love at first sight, and when you saw Jenna for the first time, everything clicked into place. The way she smiled, the way she carried herself—it was as if she were made for you.

Yes, you might've met others on the way, but no one made your heart race like Jenna. Bonding over cheesecake, strawberry jam, and most importantly, your mother. Jenna seemed to understand you on a deeper level than no one else had before.

But you wished things were different. None of that felt real anymore. You were wrong about Jenna, she wasn't the person you thought she was. The truth had shattered the image you had of her—that one beautiful woman you met on a late grocery-night run had turned out to be a stalking and murdering psychopath.

And when you realized who she truly was, it was too late. This murdering psychopath was the mother of your child.

You couldn't allow your daughter to be raised alone by such an evil person. You'd pretend to love Jenna, pretend to enjoy the suburbs, and move yourself away from the city you were beginning to love.

The young adult you once were, attempting to grasp the handles of adult life, has now become a master of disguise, faking happiness in your relationship. Every day, you put on a mask and play the role of a loving partner, protecting your child from the dark truth that lies within her mother.

Regardless...there's still a part of you that believes in love at first sight.

Marde Linda is the type of neighborhood you'd see in a television show, with picket white fences, beautifully manicured lawns, and slightly friendly neighbors who wave as they pass by. You don't have to get started on the schools, which are top-rated in the state, by the way.

Being a mother? Hard. Extremely hard. You don't know how your own did it, but you're happy she was there. Which is exactly why you're happy to be with your own daughter, despite the crying at 3 AM, the endless diaper changes...or the fact that she hates her vegetables.

"You are going to love this, trust me." You smile at your daughter, who dazly stares back at you in her highchair. "I mean, even I would eat this...I think?" You chuckle as you spoon-feed her the mashed carrots, hoping she'll give it a chance.

For a second, you start to believe she enjoys the taste, her little mouth opening wide for each spoonful. But then she scrunches up her face and spits out the carrots, turning her head every time you try to feed her again.

Just in time, Jenna walks into the kitchen with messy hair and a tired expression on her face. "What's going on here?" she asks, glancing at the mashed carrots smeared all over the highchair. You sigh and explain, "I was trying to get her to eat some carrots, but it seems like she's not a fan."

Jenna hums, slightly nodding her head. "Well, uh...do you want me to try feeding her?" You hesitate for a moment, unsure if Jenna will have any better luck. But you appreciate her offer and hand her the spoon. "Sure, why not?" you say with a hopeful smile.

Jenna smiles at you before taking a seat next to the highchair and starting to coax your daughter into taking another bite of the mashed carrots.

This sight reminds you of the old Jenna, the Jenna you fell for. The way she interacts with your daughter brings back memories of when you first started seeing each other, when everything was easy and carefree.

You're knocked out of your nostalgic reverie when the bell rings. Hm, you weren't expecting anyone.

You look at Jenna in confusion before heading to the front door, only to be met with a beautiful brunette, with a smile on her face, and a pie in her hand. "Hi, I'm Love. I live next door, and I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I thought I'd bring over a homemade pie...it's gluten-free."

You raise your eyebrows, surprised by the unexpected gesture. "Wow, that's really kind of you," you say, genuinely touched. "Thank you so much, Love. I'm Y/N, and my fiance, Jenna, is a bit busy trying to feed our daughter. We just moved in a few days ago."

Love's smile widens as she listens to your introduction. "Of course, I know it's always nice to have a warm welcome when you move into a new place. And I know how that is. My husband, Joe, and I have a son, Henry, so I understand how hectic things can get. If you ever need any help with anything, just let us know."

"Likewise, Love." The woman gives you one last smile before returning her attention to her own home, she was really pretty.

"Who was it?" Jenna calls out from the kitchen. "It was our neighbor, Love. She came by to welcome us and offered her help if we ever needed anything. She seems like a friendly person." You answer back, closing the door and making your way back to the kitchen.

Jenna looks up from Luna and says, "That's nice." You hum in response, placing down the pie. "Did she eat the carrots?"

Your fiance thins out her lips, "Nope." You chuckle and shake your head.

It's wrong, but your neighbor is already stuck in your head, leaving you curious about her.

-

"How's mothering going?" Ross asks you over the phone, his face apparent on your phone screen. You sigh out, laying your head against the armrest of the couch. "As best as it can go." You pause for a moment, contemplating whether or not to mention your neighbor. Deciding against it, you simply add, "Luna is a handful, but we're managing."

"When are you gonna let me see my goddaughter?" You laugh softly at Ross's question, "Uhhh, I don't know. I guess come by whenever you're free." You can hear the excitement in Ross's voice as he responds, "Great! I'll make sure to schedule a visit soon."

You smile, a small silence falling over. Ross narrows out his eyebrows, trying to read you. "You look like you want to say something. What is it?" He mumbles.

"My neighbor Love... she seems really nice. And she's really pretty, she even has the most beautiful smile," you say, moving your face out of the screen so your best friend doesn't see your wide smile.

Ross raises an eyebrow and chuckles. "Sounds like you've got a crush on her already. Make sure Jenna doesn't find out, you'd be in the doghouse forever."

Ross knows about your problems with Jenna. He doesn't know why they formed, but he knows you're not exactly your happiest when it comes to your relationship with Jenna.

"I know, I know...but am I wrong for wanting to get to know her? I just...I don't know, I wanna see her again." You ponder, unsure of how to navigate your feelings for this new person while still being in a "relationship" with Jenna.

Ross leans back, contemplating your words before responding, "I think it's natural to be curious about others, especially when things are rocky with Jenna. Just be careful not to rush into anything without figuring out what or who you truly want."

You nod, and Ross continues, "Is this Love girl a single mother or something? What's got you so hooked?" You pause for a moment, considering Ross's question. "No, she's not a single mother," you reply. "She's married, but she's gorgeous, and she just has that aura, you know? She gave me a pie, Ross! What more could I ask for?"

Ross raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "I get that she's attractive and all, but you're both married and you both have children, so getting involved with her could definitely complicate things for both of you. Have you thought about the consequences like....at all?"

"No, I didn't. I haven't gotten that far, we just met two weeks ago. But there's just something about her that draws me in. I can't explain it, but I feel it."

Ross sighs and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Look, I understand that you're drawn to her—" You hear the front door opening, interrupting your conversation.

You quickly sit up, realizing that Jenna has arrived home. Ross gives you a knowing look before hanging up.

Jenna smiles at you, unaware of the conversation you were having. "Hey. Where were you?" You ask, putting on a smile. Jenna crawls on the couch, snuggling up next to you.

"I ran into Love and her group of friends. You know she owns a bakery, she told me to stop by sometime and try her pastries. I think it would be fun if we went together," Jenna suggests, her eyes beaming up with excitement.

You feel a pang of guilt as you remember the conversation you were just having with Ross about Love. But you push it aside, not wanting to ruin the moment with Jenna. "That sounds like a great idea," you reply, attempting to sound enthusiastic.

You didn't hate your fiancé; you couldn't bring yourself to. She was the mother of your child, and for a while, she was the love of your life, she was captivating, caring, and always there for you. But every time you try to remember the goods, the bads come out—memories of her locking you inside a cage, revealing that she killed your ex-flings, and that look she gave when you asked about Zoe.

"Is Luna asleep?" Jenna asks, breaking the silence. You nod, a tiny smile peeking its way onto your lips. "Out like a light. Might even start snoring," you reply in a joking tone.

Jenna smiles, leaning in closer to you. "I'm glad you're here with me," she says softly. "I love you."

You can't. You can't say those words, not after everything you've discovered about her. The memories and fears weigh heavily on your heart, making it nearly impossible to reciprocate Jenna's love. You give her a reassuring smile, hoping she doesn't notice the hesitation in your eyes.

Thankfully, she doesn't, placing her lips on yours for a short and sweet kiss. Her hand snakes its way to lay against your cheek, bringing you into a more heated kiss, leaving you momentarily breathless.

You're trying. For Luna, for yourself, and for Jenna. You want to be a happy and perfect partner and mother, but you've been through a lot.

Jenna notices the subtle changes in your demeanor and gently asks if everything is alright. You take a deep breath, quickly nodding.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Jenna stares into your eyes, searching for any signs of deception. She knows you too well to believe your quick reassurance. Pulling away from you as if you're a burning hot stove, she insists, "No, you're not. Why don't you talk to me anymore?"

Her voice trembles with concern, and you can sense the ache behind her words. You run a hand through your hair. "We do talk."

"But it's not the same," Jenna interrupts, annoyance in her tone. "It feels like you're holding back, like there's something you're not telling me."

"You're always distracted. Something's going on," Jenna adds, her eyes searching yours for answers.

Saved by the cry, Luna's whines are heard from the baby monitor that rests on your coffee table. You quickly excuse yourself to tend to Luna, grateful for the interruption.

-

A bell jingles as you make your way through the door, alerting the owner of the shop to your presence. "You're not closed, are you?" you ask, hoping to still be able to browse the selection of treats.

Love smiles, waving you off. "For you? We're open 24/7," she chuckles. "Feel free to take your time and explore." You thank Love and begin glancing over the array of delectable pastries and desserts on display.

"Which one catches your eye?" Love asks, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. Other than you? I don't know, you think. You take a moment to survey the mouthwatering options, each one more tempting than the last. Finally, your gaze settles on a beautifully decorated muffin that seems to be calling your name.

You point at the muffin and say, "I think I'll go with that one. It looks absolutely divine." Love nods approvingly and retrieves the muffin for you, placing it in a small box with a smile. "Excellent choice," she says. "I'm sure you'll enjoy every bite."

Your upper lip curves upward into a satisfied smile as you eagerly anticipate the first bite of the delectable muffin. "Mmm," you groan out, missing the way Love bites her lip in response to your reaction. She watches you with a twinkle in her eye, clearly pleased with your enjoyment of the muffin.

The muffin is soft and moist, with just the right amount of sweetness. It melts in your mouth, leaving behind a burst of flavors that dance on your taste buds.

"This is fantastic." You exclaim, savoring every bite as the flavors continue to unfold. Love's smile widens, and she leans in closer, whispering, "I'm glad you like it."

Placing down the half-eaten muffin, you smile at the brunette. "You know, I actually cook and bake myself, but never have I made something as delicious as this. Your muffin is truly a masterpiece."

Love blushes, clearly flattered by your compliment. "Well, I'd love to try your cooking sometime," she says, smiling even wider at you.

"I'd be honored to cook for you. It'll be our own little culinary adventure, you know what I'm talking about?" Love chuckles, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, we can be the dynamic duo in the kitchen."

You and your next-door neighbor continue to talk, sharing recipes and exchanging cooking tips—and maybe even glances. You begin to open up about your feelings about parenting, even sharing some stories about your own mother, whom you love and miss dearly.

"I don't know; I just...my mom was the best in my eyes. I just want my daughter to look at me the same." Love listens attentively, nodding her head. "Don't we all?"

She pauses for a moment, reflecting on her own new experiences as a mother. "It's a universal desire—wanting to be the best parent we can be for our children. My mother isn't really the best, so I'm trying to learn from her mistakes and do things differently with Henry."

You smile at the mention of Henry. "He's lucky to have a mom like you who is willing to learn and grow. I'm sure you and Joe will do an amazing job."

You see Love's smile flicker at the sound of her husband's name, but she quickly regains her composure. "Thank you... I'm also glad I got to you before Sherry and her mean girls squad did." Love quickly changes the topic, smiling widely again.

"Yeah, I saw her blog...don't know how to feel about it yet." You say, tilting your head and raising your eyebrows. Love chuckles, shaking her head. "I know what you mean. I remember our second time meeting each other. She asked me about Joe and I's sex lives, saying, "Oh, having orgasms helps you produce better breast milk for your baby!"

Your mouth opens in disbelief. "Wow, that's quite a personal question to ask someone you barely know," you comment, slightly taken aback. Love nods in agreement, her smile fading slightly. "Yeah, it was definitely uncomfortable."

"So, how did you respond to that?" you ask, curious about Love's reaction. Love lets out a small sigh before answering, "I lied. The best thing you can do to Sherry."

You let out a small laugh. "I'll take note of that." You open your mouth to speak, but hesitate, unsure if you should even ask the question on your mind.

But curiosity gets the better of you, and you finally ask, "Have things ever felt weird with you and Joe during the first few months of bringing in Henry? It's just... I don't feel like I'm engaged with Jenna, it's almost as if we're just two strangers taking care of a baby together."

It's like a black cloud has appeared above Love's head, casting a shadow over her face. And for the first time, she's not putting on the usual happy facade to fool her neighbors into thinking she fits into Marde Linda; instead, she looks vulnerable and honest.

Love pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts, before responding, "I totally get where you're coming from. It actually feels like that a bit now, you know? It's good to know I'm not the only one who feels this way."

"Joe and I have been together for so long, and it's been great for the most part. But lately, I've been feeling like something is missing. We used to have such a strong connection, but now it feels like we're drifting apart. I've tried talking to him about it, but he just brushes it off and says everything is fine. It's frustrating because I want us to be happy together, but I can't get through with him."

Love lets out a fake chuckle, trying her best to keep the tears from building in her eyes.

She takes a deep breath and continues, "I know relationships have their ups and downs, but this seems different. It's like we're living in two separate worlds, with little overlap or understanding of each other's lives. I miss feeling connected to someone... I miss smiling so much that my cheeks hurt. I miss...the feeling of feeling wanted and cherished."

You feel the same way, completed. You long for the days when you both were inseparable, when every moment spent together felt like a precious gift. The distance between you and Jenna now feels unbearable, and you yearn for that deep connection and intimacy that seems to have faded away.

"Yeah... I know what you mean. I remember the first night I met Jenna, my heart was racing, like badly, almost as if it was going to burst out of my chest. I wanted to impress her so damn badly that I started showing her photos of me with the president. I just couldn't take my eyes off her, and the way she laughed at how I had continued to completely make a fool out of myself. We had this instant chemistry that I'd never felt with anyone else before. It's like we were made to be for each other, but after a while, it seemed...fake, I guess. The more I got to know her, the more I realized that our connection wasn't as genuine as I initially thought."

You run a hand down your face, your face flushing with embarrassment. "Shit, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to just pour my heart out like that." Love waves you off, "No, no! It's only fair; I kind of did the same thing earlier. It feels good to be able to open up and share my feelings with someone who won't go gossip about it."

You take a deep breath, feeling relieved that Love understands and appreciates your honesty. "Thank you for being so understanding. It's just been weighing on me, and it feels good to finally talk about it."

When the silence falls, you feel it. You both want the same thing—to start fresh—but neither of you has the guts to say so. You'd both look like bad spouses, wanting a new life while your old one was just getting started.

Your mind begins to wonder: What if Love was your new start? The shared laughter, looks, feelings, and smiles were a creation of a bond that goes beyond being neighbors.

You were so in your mind that you didn't even realize that Love had moved right beside you, placing a soft hand on your arm. Startled, you turn to see Love sitting there with a gentle smile on her face.

Her intentions were to comfort you, but her heart betrayed her. You looked even better up close.

You and Love meet in a slow kiss, both of you unsure what you're exactly doing in the moment, but sure, it's what you want in that moment. You were drawn to her, her gentle nature, and the way she effortlessly made you feel at ease.

Wait. No, wait.

You're engaged, you can't. You're not supposed to be doing this, but you want—no. You can't.

You quickly pull away, "I'm...so sorry, fuck." You rush out, your mouth slightly agape. Love stares at you, she understands the conflict raging within you and the responsibilities that bind you. So she doesn't fight against your decision, allowing you to walk away, leaving her in an empty bakery with a half-eaten muffin.

You make it home, but your mind is still consumed by Love's presence. You don't know how long you've been standing in silence, lost in thought. Jenna could never find out you shared a kiss with your neighbor, not only would you be in trouble, but Love would find herself like your old flings.

But Jenna's home, meaning Luna successfully made it to Ross's apartment.

You snap out of your reverie and greet Jenna. You have to try harder. Jenna's trying her hardest to make things work between you two, and it's important for you to reciprocate that effort. You smile as she rants about the traffic on the way back home from Ross's place, taking her hair out of her messy bun.

You walk up to your fiance, wrapping your arms around her and kissing her intensely but softly. Jenna gasps in surprise but immediately melts into the kiss, her hands finding their way to your back. This was probably the first time you've insinuated such a passionate display of affection, and it fills Jenna with a sense of reassurance and love.

As you pull away from the kiss, Jenna looks into your eyes, her own filled with a mixture of adoration and curiosity. She whispers, "What brought this on?" You smile and reply, "I was just thinking about when you approached me in the grocery store...and you asked if I was going to stay in the same aisle until you left."

Jenna's eyes widen with surprise as she recalls that moment. She blushes and playfully nudges you, saying, "I can't believe you remembered that!"

"Of course I do," you mumble against her lips, feeling a surge of affection. "I missed you, Jenna." She smiles, her cheeks turning even redder, and pulls you in for another kiss, which grows wilder by the second.

"Bedroom, please...Y/N." Jenna whimpers out, jumping into your arms as you walk toward your bedroom. Jenna's heart is pounding in her chest, but at the same time, her mind is racing. She can't help but wonder what has gotten you this way?

Was it really your first time meeting, or is there something else on your mind? Someone else—maybe she doesn't know.

You undress yourself completely, revealing your naked body to Jenna's eager eyes. Jenna's thoughts continue to swirl. She tries to push aside her doubts and insecurities and focus on you. But deep down, a nagging feeling lingers, leaving her curious about your hidden secrets or unspoken desires.

You stand at the edge of the bed while Jenna removes her own clothes in bed, her lip trapped between her teeth as she meets your gaze. You smile, pulling your fiance by her legs to the edge of the bed and lowering yourself to your knees.

As you trail kisses along Jenna's inner thighs, her hunger grows, her breath hitching with each gentle touch. She arches her back, yearning for more, as you tease her with your lips and tongue.

"I missed this...I missed you." You mutter against her core, going back to your effective but gentle techniques. Jenna loses herself in your words and the intoxicating sensations coursing through her body. Her fingers slip into your hair, and her hips move wildly against your mouth.

You place your hands on her hips, holding her down against the bed. Your fiance whines in response, throwing her head back in frustration.

With a smirk, you continue to maintain your firm grip, knowing that it drives her wild. "I'm so close, baby...please." Jenna pleads, her voice barely audible as she gasps for breath.

You keep up the relentless stimulation, teasing her just enough to push her further to the edge. Her body tenses, and with a loud cry, she finally reaches her climax, her hips bucking against your touch.

Whilst her body slowly relaxes, you release your grip, allowing her to catch her breath. Jenna looks up at you with a small smile, her eyes sparkling with post-orgasmic bliss.

You crawl onto the bed, hovering over your fiance with a mischievous smile.

"You're so beautiful, Jen." You whisper, aligning yourself with her core, watching her gasp and arch her back as you enter her. Jenna pulls you down into a kiss, her mind clearing as you reassure her in the best way possible.

"Y/N..." Jenna breathes out, clinging onto your back as you begin to move with gentle, rhythmic thrusts. Her nails dig into your skin, leaving behind small red trails as she desperately holds onto you, almost as if she's scared you'll slip away.

You drop your head on Jenna's shoulder, inhaling her sweet scent as you continue to move inside her. Gosh, she was something else. Her smell—the vanilla smell mingled with a hint of lavender—filled your senses, intoxicating you further. And the way she softly bit your ear before attacking your neck, sent shivers down your spine, making it impossible to resist her.

"Yes...yes! Fuck, right there, Y/N." Jenna mutters in your ear, wrapping her legs around your waist, and pulling you in deeper.

-

"I thought Ross was supposed to have Luna for longer?" You ask Jenna, referring to the doorbell. Jenna shrugs, placing a kiss on your lips before sitting up from the couch and reaching for her robe.

"It's probably my package, baby. Just go answer it for me, will you?" Jenna says, giving you one last peck.

With a sigh, you walk toward the front door. Jenna stops you. "Don't you think you should put some clothes on first?" she teases, her eyes lingering on your attire—just your boxers and sports bra.

You open up the coat closet nearby, putting on a zip-up hoodie to cover yourself up. Jenna chuckles and playfully swats your arm, reminding you to grab a pair of pants as well. "By the time I do that, they'll be gone!" you mutter. Jenna gives you a look, which you ignore, hurrying up to answer the door.

"Love—hey!" You rush out. You weren't expecting to see love so soon, especially after your kiss. You quickly compose yourself, trying to hide any lingering awkwardness from the kiss.

Love smiles, "Hi, I'm sorry for just...showing up, I just wanted to see if we were okay." You open your mouth before you even know what you're going to say, "Uhh...yeah! I uh, I'm sorry, it's just..." you motion your hands around, feeling flustered and searching for the right words.

"I..." You glance behind you to make sure Jenna isn't eavesdropping on the conversation. "I really enjoyed our....talk. It got a lot of stuff off of my chest and about our k—"

Love's eyes leave yours, moving to something behind you. Love's eyes leave yours, moving to something behind you. Their expression changes, and you turn around to see Jenna standing there, an unreadable expression on her face.

Jenna's unexpected presence interrupts your train of thought, leaving you momentarily speechless. Your fiance glances between the two of you, clearly caught off guard by Love's sudden appearance.

Love quickly recovers, breaking the silence with a forced smile. "Hi! I was just inviting you both to dinner tonight. I thought it would be a great opportunity for us to all get to know each other better." Love says, attempting to regain composure.

Jenna's eyes briefly meet yours before turning back to Love. That sounds like a lovely idea," she says, her voice calm but with a hint of curiosity.

You can't help but wonder what Jenna's true feelings are about Love's unexpected invitation. Fuck. Could she tell something happened between the two of you?

You try to shake off the thought, reminding yourself that it's just your own paranoia. Love gives you a smile before walking off. Perhaps she is genuinely interested in Love's invitation, and there is nothing to worry about.

"We could've just said no," you mutter, closing the door. Jenna hears you, raising an eyebrow. "Why would we do that?" You pause for a moment, walking to Jenna and wrapping your arms around her. "I mean, it's just...unexpected. And we don't really know Love that well. It might be better to play it safe, you know?"

Jenna stares into your eyes, her expression softening. "You're so cute," she says, planting a gentle kiss on your nose. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by the compliment and how she completely dodged your concern.

-

"It's so great to finally meet you." Joe smiles, extending his hand for a handshake. You shake his hand, "Likewise, Joe. It's nice to have some...normal neighbors." You chuckle nervously, hoping that your comment about normalcy didn't come off as rude.

Joe chuckles. "Well, thank you. I'm glad I didn't get grouped in with Sherry and Cary." You let out a small laugh, relieved that Joe understood your attempt at humor. "Oh, I've heard some interesting stories about them. They definitely bring some excitement to the neighborhood."

Love pulls away from her hug with Jenna, leading you both to the dining room, a bright and inviting space with a large wooden table. As you take a seat, Love gestures towards the beautifully set table and says, "I hope you're hungry! I've prepared a special homemade meal just for the occasion."

"Thank you so much, Love. Everything looks and smells amazing," you say sincerely, feeling grateful for her hospitality.

Love smiles warmly at you, and Jenna takes notice of this, her eyes boring into Love's skull. Jenna's gaze lingers on Love for a moment before she blinks, putting on a fake smile as she starts a conversation with Joe.

"Shit, I forgot the drinks, I'll be right back." You get up from your seat and say, "I can help." Love quickly interjects, "No need to worry, I'll take care of it." You wave her off, "It's okay! I don't mind helping out."

You follow Love to the kitchen, fixing your dress shirt and straightening your tie as you go. Love glances at you with a grateful smile, appreciating your willingness to assist.

"I'm sorry, Love." You apologize sincerely, referring to your shared kiss that shouldn't have happened between two married individuals. Love's smile fades slightly as she looks down at the ground, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "No need to apologize," she says softly, avoiding eye contact.

"No, really. I shouldn't have done that." You continue, walking closer to the blue-eyed woman. Love's gaze remains fixed on the ground, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was a moment of weakness for both of us," she admits, her words tinged with regret.

"At least...I know that it was for you." Love adds, her voice trailing off as she finally meets your gaze. "Because...one second you're complaining about not being happy, but you seemed pretty happy this morning after."

"What?"

"The fucking hickeys, Y/N. You opening the door in your boxers? Could you be any more fucking obvious?" You look away, your cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"Love..." you stammer, struggling to find the right words. "You're married...I'm married...we couldn't...I couldn't..." Love shakes her head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"I guess I'm blind for thinking that kiss meant anything. It's just finally talking about it that I started imagining what if...you know? Like, with him... the first time I saw him, I wanted to get to know everything about him. And I felt that again, but with you. I wanted to explore a connection that I hadn't felt in a long time. It's stupid..."

Love's eyes glisten with unshed tears as she takes a step back, creating a distance between you two. "I don't even know why I'm acting like this. We should get back." She quickly wipes her eyes, handing you two glasses and picking up the rest before walking back toward the dining room.

"Hey, you're back! I missed you," Jenna exclaims as she sees Love and you return to the dining room. She gives you both a warm smile, unaware of the emotional moment that just took place.

You send Jenna a smile, sitting back down beside her. Love joins the table, her eyes still slightly red but her smile genuine. "Jenna was just telling me about how she cooks too," Joe tells his wife, his eyes glancing between her and Jenna.

But Jenna doesn't pay any mind to the man; her eyes are staring into yours. She leans in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "What took you so long?" Anyone else would've missed her accusatory tone.

"We were just talking about our favorite recipes," you reply, trying to deflect the question. Jenna's eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn't press further. Instead, she smiles at Joe, nodding. "Yes! I love trying out new recipes. I'm more of a cook than a baker, though; I'm really good at using knives and stuff."

That surely meant something else, you think.

Love chuckles nervously, clearly uncomfortable with the mention of knives. "Oh, uh, I'm more of a baker...as you know already." Jenna's smile widens. "Well, I also bake too! Don't mind getting my hands dirty." Joe's eyes widen slightly, sensing a hidden meaning behind Jenna's words.

Joe clears his throat. "Let's get eating, shall we?"

-

You're now home in your bedroom; the rest of dinner went well for the most part. You begin taking off your button shirt while Jenna removes her makeup in your shared bathroom.

"I think you should stop talking to Love." Jenna blurts out, catching you off guard. You pause, unsure of how to respond. "What do you mean?" you ask, continuing to unbutton your shirt.

Jenna turns around to face you, her expression serious. "Is there a problem with that?" Jenna's words hang in the air, causing a knot of unease to form in your stomach.

"I don't see why there would be a problem," you say cautiously, "but can you explain why you feel that way?"

Jenna takes a deep breath before speaking. "Why can't you just do this one thing for me without asking so many questions?" Her tone is tinged with frustration, and you take this as a sign to drop it. With a hum and nod, you agree, throwing your shirt somewhere in the room and sitting down on your bed.

Jenna leaves the bathroom, walking towards you with a small smile. "Thank you, baby." You smile back at Jenna, and she begins undoing her robe.

She lets the silky fabric slip off her shoulders; you can't help but admire the way it accentuates her curves. Jenna parts your legs, standing in between them, and without a second thought, your hands move to explore, caressing her soft skin.

Jenna leans in, her lips brushing against your earlobe as she whispers, "You know, sometimes I just need a little space to breathe." You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. Taking a deep breath and gently pulling her closer, you respond, "I think you just wanna show off."

She smiles, leaning back to look into your eyes. Her gaze is filled with a mix of playfulness and affection as she replies, "Maybe I do enjoy being the center of attention sometimes."

You open your eyes again, only to look out of your window and see your neighbor looking in your direction. You quickly let go of Jenna and rush toward your window, shutting the curtains.

"I can't believe he was spying on us," you mutter. Jenna chuckles softly and pulls you into a reassuring embrace, reminding you that it's just a harmless moment and not worth worrying about.

"Yeah, but that's weird. He's married with a son, and we literally just met him for dinner." Jenna places a kiss on your lips, "I'm all yours; no need to get worked up, my love."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. Despite Jenna's reassurance, you can't help but feel a twinge of unease about your neighbor's behavior. Maybe it's best to keep a closer eye on him in the future, just to be safe.

-

It's late, really late. Luna is back home, but thankfully she's asleep. You've been up waiting for Jenna since she left in the afternoon, but it's already well past midnight.

You open up your phone to try to ring Jenna's phone again, but these past few hours have been filled with unanswered calls and messages. Your mind starts to wander, imagining all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Maybe she got into an accident or lost her phone. You don't fucking know, but you're scared.

On cue, your fiance makes it through the door with messy hair and a tired expression on her face. She apologizes for being late, explaining that she lost track of time while catching up with Joe, your creepy, stalky neighbor.

You get up from the couch with an angry expression on your face. "Why's your hair all messy?" You demand, frustration evident in your voice. She begins to explain, "I put my head out the window after I finished my burger—a very good vegan burger, by the way. Why are burgers so tasty?" she asks, trying to lighten the mood.

You can't help but feel a pang of jealousy towards Joe, wondering why she would spend so much time with him, especially after she knows how you feel about him. Going on late-night burger runs and sharing inside jokes with him. It's hard not to feel like you're being replaced, and her nonchalant attitude only adds to your frustration.

"I have to stop hanging out with my friends, but you get to go on all-day dates with Joe?" You sarcastically question, furrowing your eyebrows.

Jenna shakes her head, "Please. Not tonight." You feel yourself getting angrier by the second, your voice rising as you continue, "Do you see the way he looks at you? We literally caught him staring at you through his window?"

Jenna clenches her jaw, her eyes narrowing with annoyance and anger. "Why do you even care? It's not like you love me anymore." You pause, taken aback by Jenna's words. "What? Jenna, that's not true. I do love you."

Jenna lets out a fake laugh, rolling her eyes. "You know...you might think you're protecting my feelings, but it hurts ten times harder when you lie."

"I'm not an idiot, Y/N. I know you fucking kissed her that night." You feel a lump form in your throat as Jenna's accusation hangs in the air. Your mind races, searching for the right words to defend yourself. "Jenna..."

Jenna laughs, a bitter sound that cuts through the tension. "So sorry if I like spending time with someone who actually might be interested in me!" Her voice cracks, betraying herself.

"You're not being fair, Jenna! You can't blame me for being confused! You don't get to be conflicted! I'm...fucking lost! I don't know if I love you, there! I said it! I don't know if what we have is genuine because my soon-to-be wife fucking stalked me for years and killed anyone I tried to get close to. I've been living in fear, constantly looking over my shoulder." You yell, the veins in your neck coming out as you release your pent-up anger.

"I'm so fucking scared of you, Jenna. I don't know if you're going to hurt me...for not being 100% into you all the time, hurt someone for attempting to get close to me, or...hurt our daughter. So excuse me for even trying to find a safe haven."

Your words hang heavy in the air as you struggle to catch your breath. Jenna is at a loss for words, unsure what to say or how to respond to your raw and honest outburst. You watch her lips tremble slightly as she tries to form a response, but no words escape.

"...Fuck you, Y/N." She finally replies, pushing past you to leave the room.

-

"Y/N, hey!" You turn around to see Joe. You put on a fake smile; you're pissed off at this guy, and not only that, but he's interrupting your walk to clear your mind.

"Hey Joe, what's up?" you respond, trying to maintain your composure despite your frustration.

"I just wanted to see if you were doing okay." Joe's concern catches you off guard, and you can't help but soften your expression slightly. "Thanks; I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Joe hesitates for a moment before answering, "Well, Jenna told me earlier that you two were planning on calling off the engagement."

Your heart skips a beat at Joe's words. Why the hell would she want to call off the engagement and not you? "Jenna must have misunderstood," you say, trying to hide your unease.

"We're not calling off the engagement. Everything is fine between us." Joe looks relieved but still seems skeptical. "Are you sure? Jenna seemed pretty convinced. Maybe you should talk to her and clear things up."

Yes, of course. You'll talk to your fiancé. You nod, turning back around to continue walking. "Oh, and Y/N," Joe calls out as you start to walk away, causing you to turn back around.

You feel something heavy hit your head, and your world turns black as you collapse to the ground.

When you regain consciousness, you find yourself in the same situation you were in years ago. Except this time, Jenna isn't present, but Joe, your neighbor, is.

"Fuck...not this shit again." You mutter, using the class cage to help lift yourself from the ground.

Joe tilts his head, confused. "Again. You're telling me you've been put in this situation before?" You touch your head, looking for any signs of injury. "Yeah," you reply, wincing at the pain. "I already know not to freak out and bang against the glass this time."

"Jenna must really like you," Joe says, raising an eyebrow. "She's the one who put you in something like this, right?" You nod, frustration evident on your face.

"I guess she learned from my old tricks." You chuckle bitterly, asking. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Joe smirks, standing up from his chair. "Well, let's just say Jenna isn't the first person to trap someone inside of a glass box; neither was I, but I think...I might've been the one to inspire her."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by Joe's cryptic statement. "What do you mean?" you inquire, wanting to know more about the origins of this bizarre, fucked-up situation.

Joe's smirk widens as he walks towards the glass box. "I guess you can say I was Jenna's first love, her muse, the one who possibly ignited her twisted creativity."

"I knew Jenna before everything." Joe continues, "I'd become a bit obsessed with her; she was the first person I loved after my ex-girlfriend broke my heart. Jenna had this magnetic energy that drew me in, and I couldn't help but be captivated by her. One day, she told me she was leaving New York to move to California, and I...snapped. I became possessive, desperate to keep her close to me. I put her inside the glass box my...mentor built so she wouldn't leave before I got the chance to talk to her about it."

You chuckle bitterly, not even surprised by the situation. After Jenna, you've become used to the fucked-up shit people can do. But Joe, he just seemed 10x worse. He practically made Jenna look like an angel."You guys are some truly fucked up people, man, I swear."

"Can you not? I'm pouring my heart out here." Joe sarcastically jokes, rolling his eyes. "But yeah, I guess you could say I went a little crazy. I just couldn't bear the thought of her leaving without giving me a chance to explain how much she meant to me. And seeing her again after all those years only intensified those feelings. I knew I had to do something, even if it meant risking everything."

You fake yawn, "So...you did all of this because, supposedly, my fiance is "the one who got away" for you?" Joe smiles, "Ding, ding, ding!"

"And what about Love? Your wife?" Joe's smile fades slightly as he looks down at his hands. "Love... Love and I—we've been drifting apart for a while now. We've tried to make it work, but sometimes people just grow in different directions. And I'm sure Jenna's dealing with her right now...for you."

Your ears perk up. "Dealing with her? What do you mean dealing with her for me?"

Joe looks up. "Killing her."

Your eyes widen in shock as you process Joe's words. "Wait, you can't be serious. Killing her? What about Henry?!"

Joe's expression turns grave as he responds, "I know it sounds extreme, but Love and I have exhausted all other options. We've tried therapy, communication, everything. Henry will be fine; I've already planned that out."

Joe's words send a chill down your spine. "Are you serious, this is fucking insane? You have to stop, Jenna! Joe, Love was your wife, and I know at one point you loved her. You can't let Jenna go through with this. There has to be another way to go about whatever the fuck you're doing, for Henry's sake and for your own sanity."

Joe walks away, not even bothering to acknowledge your plea. "Joe!" You shout, banging on the glass, desperate to get through to him. But he continues to walk away, his footsteps fading into the distance.

-

The door opens again, and you rise from the ground, rushing to the glass. But it's not Joe who appears; it's Jenna. "Jenna? Jenna, what happened?"

Jenna looks at you with tears in her eyes, her palm resting against the glass. "I love you, Y/N. I love our daughter, and I love our life together. But I just want to know if you love it too, and please, just be honest with me."

You feel a knot forming in your stomach as Jenna's words sink in. Her vulnerability and plea for honesty leave you speechless for a moment.

You realize that your answer will shape the future of your relationship and maybe even your life.

"I love you too, Jen. I swear. I—I won't let anything come between us again. Our life together means everything to me, and I can't imagine a future without you and our daughter. I promise to always be honest with you, no matter what."

Jenna's tears begin to subside as a sense of relief washes over her face. She takes a deep breath and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a silver key. With trembling hands, she opens the glass cage, and you fall into her arm, your own eyes filling with tears.

Jenna holds you tightly, whispering words of love and forgiveness. In that moment, you realize that your relationship has been given a second chance, and you vow to never take it for granted again.

"I couldn't do it. I thought about it. Fuck, Y/N. I was about to hurt Love and take Henry's mother away from him forever. But I thought about how I could never forgive myself, not even a little." Jenna's voice trembles with emotion as she continues, "I want to break free from that fucked-up pattern and create a better future for all of us."

You nod, pressing a kiss to Jenna's forehead. "I believe in us, Jenna," you say softly.

"Let's go, Y/N." You nod again, rushing out of the room together, determined to leave the past behind and start fresh. You make it to your car, Luna in her carseat carrier, ready for the journey ahead. Jenna starts the engine, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Your fiance speeds out of Marde Linda, and you turn to see smoke billowing from the town behind you, along with the sounds of sirens blaring in the distance.

"Where are we going?" You mutter to Jenna. She glances at you, placing a hand on your lap.

"We're going anywhere but here," she replies, her voice steady. "...I was thinking London. I've always wanted to live in England." The thought of starting a new life in London fills you with excitement and hope, causing you to smile regardless of the circumstance you had just escaped from.

Together, you embark on a new chapter, ready to rewrite your story and create a better life for yourselves and Luna in England.

#tonyspank #jenna ortega x reader #reader insert #jenna ortega #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #you netflix #joe goldberg #love quinn #love quinn x reader #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega angst #jenna ortega fluff #she

[auteurdelabre]

A Little Sun part 6 Dieter!Bravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+ words: 8.4k pairings: Dieter x f!Reader

tags: pregnancy, details of body changing with pregnancy, insecurity, mention of family death, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft dieter, fluff, lurve, angst, miscommunication trope, female masturbation, male masturbation, dirty talk (thoughts). summary: You move in with Dieter after the fight with your mom and things get... complicated. a/n: Y'all this thing has turned into such a fuckin' beast. Remember when I wanted it to be a one shot? Anyway, we're nearing the end with these two idiots in love but I think this one ends pretty damn sweet.

Also I think I'm in love with Dieter Bravo?

SERIES MASTERLIST

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

Dieter doesn't even let you step fully into his home before he's got you in his arms, wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your suitcases clatter to the floor as you cling to him, burying your face in his neck and fighting back tears. 

"You can stay as long as you want," Dieter promises you as one hand cups the back of your head. "Stay forever."

You give a watery chuckle into his shoulder, not quite ready to let go of him. You only break apart when the smell of European cigarettes wafts into the room. 

You swipe at your damp eyes while Dieter turns to greet the tiny woman with a shock of white curls. She wears an oversized green t-shirt and loose khaki pants. She shuffles from place to place in her oversized moccasins. 

"You remember Magda, right?"

"I think we've met a few times," you say extending your hand. The old woman gives you a look before shuffling over and placing her hand on your belly. You're in too much shock to pull back. 

"A healthy boy," she tells you through a thick Eastern European accent. You and Dieter exchange looks of surprise. 

"Uh yeah," you peer down at her shriveled frame, "How did you know that it was a boy?"

"I can tell."

She says it with a sage nod and then with that revelation she shuffles off to the kitchen, the feather duster still firmly lodged under her bony arm. 

"She's the best," Dieter says says fondly before turning back to you with a look of expectancy. "Lemme show you where you're staying."

He takes both of your suitcase handles and jerks head to the left indicating you should follow. 

You follow him out into his garden beside the pool. A place that you've never really visited much before. Most of your business has been conducted inside in his kitchen or in his office. You've heard about his guest house, how he had so many decorators come in over the years. 

When you enter into it now, you're surprised at just how normal it seems. You were waiting for whips and chains and other strange memorabilia to line the walls. But instead it looks like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Crisp White's and Blue wainscotting. Overstuffed chairs and couches surround the coffee table from the photo he sent you. It's strangely tasteful. 

It doesn't suit him at all. 

Dieter must notice your surprise because he smirks before he rolls your suitcases towards the kitchen bar.  

"Remember that Danish woman I dated for a couple months right after you started working for me?"

"Yeah, Lyda something.'

"Right. She wanted to start a career as an interior designer. I let her run the show in this place. Not really my taste."

"Not really mine either," You admit looking around the space. "It is beautifully done but I prefer the place we stayed in Ireland, like, that aesthetic. Old wood and big windows."

"I like that too," Dieter agrees. He sees you yawn and immediately feels guilty for keeping You up after such an emotional day.

"I'm going to have Petra whip you up something for dinner."

Petra is Dieter's chef who stocks his fridge with high end 

"Dieter you don't-"

"You gotta take care of you and little Bravo remember?" 

Dieter feels something in his chest bloom when instead of rolling your eyes you smile at him, nodding. 

"Thanks Dieter."

You wake up the next morning in the plush duvet with your arms stretched above your head before rolling an absent hand down your swollen belly. 

"Morning little boy," you whisper to the tiny being there beneath your fingertips. You give a groan as you gently roll yourself off the bed sliding into your slippers and pulling on your robe. Despite your devastation of what happened with your mother, waking up in this beautiful space on this gorgeously sunny day has you feeling hopeful.

This feeling is dampened slightly when you glance at your phone, looking to the calendar and seeing a date in the coming week starred. A date you have been dreading for months. Your birthday. The first one of yours since your father passed. Without your mom around this seems especially painful to consider. You close your phone, not wanting to think about it.

You spot a tall figure out the window and feel your cheeks flush. Something has shifted since Ireland. Something that terrifies you. The whisper of feelings that you're having a hard time repressing when you think of how he supports you. 

But you push it from your mind. Your worlds don't match up.  You’re serious, you take life seriously, you want to dedicate yourself to science. Dieter wants to fuck and party and grab life by the balls.

Plus he's with Mia and she makes him happy. 

Dieter saunters across the backyard, narrowly missing the pool as he heads to the guest house. He's wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants under tattered robe, his eyes hidden behind his sunshades. He's carrying a tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a smoothie in the other.  

"Dieter it’s ten in the morning," you say as you open the sliding door to greet him. 

"I'm still on Ireland time," he says giving you a waggle of his brows before setting the pale

pink smoothie down on the kitchen counter. "Breakfast when you're ready for it." 

He sees you eyeing the smoothie warily and gives a deep rumbling chuckle. 

"Petra made this one so you're safe. You like strawberries right?"

You take a tentative sip, before giving a soft moan of approval and drinking down the rest. 

He rocks back on his heels a moment and despite the dark of his glasses, you can feel his gaze lingering on you. 

"So... What're you up to today, Bravo?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"I'm officially no longer part of team Bravo remember?" You remind him with a sad chuckle as you place the empty glass back on the counter. "Diane cut my access to work emails and calendars." 

"Shit that's right, I forgot." He looks at you with such a guilty expression. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay. I'm looking at this like a real non working vacation," you tell him honestly pointing out the window. "I figure you have a pool, there's a chef, a housekeeper, I brought books, what more could I ask for?"

"Plus you have a recreation staff," Dieter grins, taking you by the hand and twirling you gently towards him. "Dance lessons by the pool, movie nights, anything the customer wants."

"Hmmm an end to global warming?"

"Sorry that's only with the premium package."

You let out a loud laugh as Dieter joins you, spinning you into a hug. His mouth is only inches from yours and when the two of you realize this your mutual laughter ebbs. 

Dieter wants nothing more than to press his mouth to yours, to taste you, to fuck you here in his home. But he knows it's not what you want. You don't want that from Dieter. You want somewhere safe to stay and he'll provide that to you.

Besides there is someone who does want his affection, his touch: Mia. 

You swallow, your body poised and mouth slowly tilting towards Dieter before he seems to realize himself. He slowly extricates his arms from around you before reaching into his robe pocket, clearing his throat. 

"Here's the key," Dieter tells you, holding it out to you. You take it, looking at the tiny Jameson keychain on it. The one that matches the one Dieter got you in Ireland that you wear on your own keychain. You smile at the sight of it before looking puzzled.

"A key?"

"For the guest house."

"I don't need to lock it," you chide even as you take it from him and toss it into your purse. "It's just you and me here right?"

"Yeah," Dieter hides the broad of his grin behind his whiskey glass. "Just you and me."

For the next several days Dieter tries to give you as much space as possible. He brings you a smoothie every morning citing that Magda is too busy. In the evenings he texts you to invite you over to the big house for dinner. Sometimes you join him, sometimes you’re just too tired.

You always go back to the guest house feeling a little bit down. You didn’t realize you missed sleeping in the same house, how Ireland made it almost feel like living together. Dieter’s place is so large it’s like you’re in separate neighborhoods.

Dinners are starting to be hard as well. Knowing you’ll be leaving to go back to the empty guest room. It’s a luxury, that’s for certain with its tall ceilings and plush bed. But it feels quiet without Dieter’s music or loud laughter.

And so you can admit to yourself that every morning he comes by with the pink smoothie and a big grin, your heart leaps a little bit. Like now, seeing him rushing over more frenzied than usual. He smiles, pushing the drink into your hand hurriedly.  

“Here. Drink fast, I finished the nursery and want you to come look.”

“When did you have time to do the nursery?” You ask amazed as you follow him to the main house, smoothie almost drained by the time you reach his place. 

“I’ve been in touch with this guy Diora from Albania over email since Ireland. He’s all the rage, super hard to get but he was really excited about trying his hand at a nursery. He just finished Criss Angel’s man cave and James Franco’s bedroom.”

Dieter sweeps a hand to the middle of your back, guiding you down the hall. When he opens the door with a flourish it takes everything in you not to gasp in horror. Your hand still rises to your mouth, though when you step into the room.

It looks like a sex dungeon.

Black and white striped walls, a beautifully ornate crib painted a ghastly red. 

"Contrasting colors are good for baby’s retinas," Dieter says confidently. "I read it somewhere."

It takes you a few moments of staring at everything before you can speak.

"You have whips hung on the walls."

"Those are vintage skipping ropes," Dieter tells you aghast at your misunderstanding. You turn slowly, taking everything in. Finally you shake your head slowly.  

"Dieter, this is totally inappropriate for a nursery," you say. "What baby would be happy here?" 

Dieter takes a moment to glance around the space, his previous elation dimming with every word from you. 

"This is what Diora suggested. He's the hottest designer right now."

"Of millionaire bachelor pads," you say as you look at a particularly ugly piece of metal hanging from the ceiling. "Not for a baby’s room."

"I'm not gonna have some tacky nursery with stuffed bears and shit,” Dieter defends. “I can't do it. Anyone who comes over and sees that'll think I've lost my edge."

The thought of being a father is immensely appealing to Dieter. The thought of being a loser Dad is not.

“Mia said it was cool,” Dieter shoots out. “I sent her photos.”

Mia is also in her early twenties, you want to snap. But you hold your tongue, trying to see the upsides to this nursery. Unfortunately you can see none. Everything is a safety hazard.

Dieter paces around the room, suddenly sour at the whole thing. He thought you’d be excited to see where the baby will be. Instead you’ve come in with your judgments and frowning face.

"Please let me... Dieter let me help you with this," you almost beg. "I just.... I know he's not mine but I can't stand the thought of him being in this... Baby prison."

I know he's not mine. 

This hurts Dieter to hear it. He knows that you face no interest in being in this baby's life or his the week after you've given birth. But he can admit he's fooled himself with you being here.

But this? This is a project the two of you can work on. A potential to have more reason to have you in the house, not in that fucking guest house. He can only think of so many reasons to knock on your door apart from smoothies. 

"Okay, sure."

“Okay,” you say looking relieved. “How about a pale blue or green? Then we can get a nice crib and some rugs and gauzy curtains.”

“That’s so boring.”

“And safe,” you emphasize. “You have to think of his safety, Dieter.”

Dieter pouts slightly in thought, trying to see the nursery through your eyes. He has to concede that perhaps this is a bit much for a newborn.

"Actually, you know what would look really beautiful on this far wall here?" You muse, looking at the space. "That painting you bought me for my birthday."

You think of the artwork hanging in your bedroom. The one of the woman looking out over the ocean, her hair whipping in the sea air. It’s the one thing you didn’t bring from home that you regret. There was something about that painting that made you feel relaxed.

"I didn't buy you that," Dieter says with a furrowed brow. 

Your stomach sinks at this admission from Dieter and you wish you could take back everything. The intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability. He never even fucking bought the thing himself. Diane probably did and here you are pouring your heart out about it. 

"Oh, uh-Or Diane or whoever-"

"I painted it for you."

All the animosity that had been brewing behind your sternum drains from you. A smile blooms immediately, your body tingling as you roll onto your side to fully face him. 

"You did?"

"Yeah," Dieter is smirking at you from the shadows. "I love painting. You think I'd buy you a fucking painting?"

“I think I just assumed that you got Diane or whoever to ship it to me." 

"Maybe if you were someone else," Dieter muses, his gaze wandering around the nursery. "Someone who doesn't do everything for me." He falls silent a moment. "You really thought I bought it?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you think it was weird that the girl in the painting was you?"

Now you're stunned and it must show on your face because Dieter is chuckling softly now. 

"You've had it hanging up your room for how long? Did you even look at it?"

"Of course I did, I do," you say in a rush, feeling embarrassed. You look at it every night you’re in your bedroom. "I just ... I never thought..."

"What?"

"I never thought you saw me."

Dieter blinks back at you, his dark eyes searching your face. 

"I just mean you never even said thank you before this whole baby thing," you explain. "I've worked for you for a while and you kinda just expected I'd be at your beck and call all hours of the day and night, even on my days off."

"I'm sorry," Dieter whispers. "That was shitty of me."

"Why do you do it? 

“I went through so many assistants I just assumed you wouldn’t be sticking around long.” Dieter looks ashamed as he says it out loud.  “But then the longer you stayed the more I depended on you. I think… After a while I think it just felt weird to not message you.”

You both lapse into a thoughtful silence.

“You’ll manage just fine without me when I leave,” you tell him, needing him to know. “And if you’re ever feeling really lost and like you just need to talk to someone, you can always call me. Not as an employee, but as a friend.”

“Really? We’re friends?”

“Yeah,” you nod, heart hammering. “Friends.”

Dieter wakes up hard every morning for the next two weeks. He doesn't try to; he actively tries to think of other things before he goes to sleep. He watches documentaries, he reads art books, he meditates. He tries to push you from his thoughts so he can wake up normal. 

But he always wakes up aching with the head of his cock weeping, flickering remnants of his dreams still floating around his subconscious. And those dreams are always of you.

Today he wakes up with the memory of his dream still lingering. You on your knees, his cock in your mouth and your eyes heavy lidded. As he shifts in bed Dieter realizes his boxers are sticky with previous release. A fucking nocturnal emission? How old is he?

And what's worse is that he's still fucking hard. Throbbing, actually He groans low in his throat and tries to ignore it.

You're here at his home. You're practically living with him. You're only a few steps from his back door. You're so close and yet so frustratingly far from him. He misses being in the same home as you, like the rental in Ireland. He misses the feeling of coming home after a long day on set and seeing your sweet face on the couch.

He wants that again. 

Dieter rolls onto his belly to try and squash his current erection against the mattress. But that doesn't help, it just gives a delicious friction. He shifts again experimentally, groaning at the shiver that travels from the base of his spine to the tip. In his sleepy arousal he imagines that it's not the mattress but you that he's fucking. 

"You like that?" Dieter murmurs, eyes closed as he rocks against his bed. "Like feeling me like that, baby?"

He pushes his hips into the bed, starting to rut when the pleasure increases.

You're so big, Dieter. 

And suddenly he's thrusting against it, picturing your body writhing under him. 

Need it, Dieter. Fuck me harder. 

"Yes," Dieter groans into his pillow, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress. He thrusts furiously into the soft fabric of the bed, hips bouncing up and down on the mattress. 

Need your big cock, daddy, your dream self moans. Need it deep. 

"Fuck yes, baby. Take Daddy's cock. Take it and-"

His phone chirrups loudly on the table next to him, breaking him from the immersive fantasy. 

A name and photo flash up on the screen. 

Mia. 

Immediately he feels guilty. Here he is humping his mattress to thoughts of you as his gorgeous, talented, funny, sexy girlfriend is calling. 

He breathes rapidly through his nose, slowing his grinding movements. He rolls over in the bed, reaching for the phone. 

"Hey babe," Dieter says, panting as he answers. He flips onto his back, willing his cock to go down. 

"You okay? You sound like you've been exercising and I know that can't be true."

Dieter barks a laugh at that. He's about to reply when he hears a splash outside his window. Mia starts chatting in his ear but he's completely taken with the view outside his window. 

You're in a bikini, gliding through the clear water of his pool. Dieter feels his mouth run dry at the sight, especially when you roll over onto your back, your belly protruding from the water like a beacon. Your hair dances around your head, your eyes closed, face tilted towards the sun. You have the sweetest little smile on your face. 

You're so fucking beautiful. 

"Dee? You there?"

"Huh? Yeah, sorry babe what?"

"I wanted to know how you're getting on? I've been staying off socials for the last little bit of the shoot trying to stay focused. I finally saw the photos from the airport. How is the poor thing holding up?"

"Stressed, but better."

"She must be happy to be at home away from all that madness."

Dieter feels his stomach clench. He knows he has to be honest with Mia, she's his girlfriend, she deserves to know. And yet he hesitates because he knows how it sounds. 

"She's staying in my guest house, actually," Dieter offers in what he hopes is a nonchalant voice. 

The warmth from Mia's voice is immediately gone. 

"Pardon me?" 

"She's, uh, in my guest house for the time being," Dieter adds, closing his eyes and bracing himself. 

Mia shuffles on the other end before her voice reaches out to him confused. 

"I thought you wanted a relationship with me, Dieter. Otherwise why did your agent go to so much trouble to confirm it? To do a splashy roll-out?"

"I do want it."

"But you have the employee you got pregnant living with you?"

"Not with me. In the guest house." 

"This is weird, Dee." 

He hears the concern in her voice and he feels his stomach drop. He doesn't want to lose Mia. 

"Her mom kicked her out," Dieter explains quickly. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Pay for a hotel?"

The answer is so clear, so obvious. Why didn't he offer a hotel? He has the money. Why had it been so important for him to have you here? 

Because then he could see you every day.

The answer is immediate but he won't admit it. Not now. 

"The paps have been relentless," Dieter says finally. "They'll camp out outside of wherever I put her up. Not like here where I know she's safe away from the public eye."

"But-"

"She's not like us, Mia," Dieter insists. "She doesn't want fame and all that shit. She's just a regular person who's pregnant and alone. Her mom kicked her out, she's got no one else."

He can almost hear Mia softening over the phone. 

"It's just hard, Dee," she says finally. "Especially when I haven't seen you in weeks."

Dieter feels a flutter of panic at how sad she sounds. He wants to make it up to her and has a great idea of how. 

"Prague!" 

Dieter bursts out with this, wincing when he hears how loud he is. 

"Sorry, what?" 

"What do you think about Prague?" Dieter corrects himself, rubbing nervously at his beard. "You're flying to LA next week for our magazine spread, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you've always wanted to go to Prague, right?"

"Yes."

"So let's do it. After the shoot let's get away from everyone and everything for a few weeks just us two."

"You'd really want to do that?"

"Of course." 

He hears Mia weighing the choice on the other end of the line. He holds his breath until he can almost hear her smile.  

"Okay Dee, let's do it."

“Amazing,” Dieter says grinning. “I’ll get Diane to send you the details. See you next week.”

He hangs up quickly, undressing and pulling on his swim trunks.

You’re floating on your back, sunglasses on your face, your body most submerged in the cool water. You hear the sound of a door opening and crack one eye open to see Dieter approaching.

Dieter never uses his pool. He got the house on a whim and didn’t even notice it had a pool until he officially moved in. But right now seeing your tits overflowing out of your bikini cups has him so utterly thankful to his former self.

He shrugs off his robe, sliding into the chilly water with an exaggerated brrrr. He swims over to you, sunglasses perched on the end of his nose.

“Looked so refreshing I had to join.”

“It’s so nice,” you sigh, your arms and legs out as you soak up the sun and enjoy the lack of strain on your lower back. “I never want to get out.”

Dieter paddles near you for a moment, wanting to remember this moment before he recalls his conversation with Mia.

“Well you’ll have the place to yourself the next couple of weeks.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Mia and I are going to Prague like you suggested.”

“That’s so great," you say with a tightness in your voice. “When do you leave?”

“Next Thursday.”

Next Thursday.

Dieter stars to drone on about how Mia has all these restaurants and museums she wants to go to but all you can think of is that you’ll be alone on your birthday. The first one since your father passed. No mother to turn to. Nothing. You’ll be completely alone.

A sudden flutter begins in your abdomen and you give an absent smile, hand slowly sliding over your stomach.

Well, not completely alone.

From where you stand in your guest house kitchen you can see into the main house. Specifically into the dining room. At night when the landscape is dark and the lights are on inside you can see it very clearly.

Like tonight.

You can see him pacing inside the house, his tall frame gesticulating wildly. He's obviously going over some lines. He asked you to have dinner and run through them but you’d texted back some feeble excuse.

The truth is you need to separate yourself as much as possible from Dieter because you’re convinced that what you’re starting to feel can’t be explained away by hormones. This desire to be with him.

But he’s leaving with Mia in a few short days on some whirlwind romantic escape. You even showed him the best way to pack his fucking suitcase! The sight of a box of condoms at the bottom of it hidden by the toiletries bag made your throat tighten.

Despite this your eyes sail over to Dieter’s house again, watching him make a note on his script before running through the lines. He looks so sexy when he does it, totally lost in the moment. It reminds you of the character he played in Ireland.

Fuck, that insatiable need is coursing through your body again. The hormones kicking into overdrive as you feel your thighs press together at the memory of Dieter and that regency costume. He looked so good in it. You can almost hear his husky voice in your ear. 

It's okay if you want it, baby. Lemme give it to you. 

You throw yourself into your plush bed, your hands sliding down under your panties and working frantically against your straining clit. 

Uh huh. Just like that. Gotta come on my fingers before you get this cock. 

You throw your head back, thighs squeezing as you rut against your fingers. This phantom Dieter plays in your mind, his husky voice full of dark, delicious promise. 

Gonna fuck such pretty sounds out of you. 

"Dieter," you groan, unable to help yourself. It's pathetic how quickly and easily your orgasm overtakes you. It leaves you shuddering and whimpering, rutting into your fingers and then finally collapsing back as you stare at the ceiling.

What the fuck are you doing?

Despite everything Dieter is still your boss in some ways. He’s still the man paying you to have a child. Yes, he’s sort of a friend, but at the end of the day he still holds some authority over you. 

You wish that last thought didn’t turn you on so much.

You’re still groaning when you hear the light tap of knuckles on glass and you jerk up in your bed, face flushed.

You wipe your damp hand on the sheets before slowly stumbling out of the bedroom. Dieter is standing there at the glass door, giving you a stiff wave. You move quickly, tugging the door open. The sound of cicadas and LA night traffic punctuate the formerly peaceful space.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m really sorry to come over here so late but Magda just told me when she was cleaning this place this afternoon she saw a roach.”

“What?”

Immediately you’re moving towards him, glancing behind you in disgust. Your eyes sweep the floor and counters for any trace. Strange, you haven’t noticed anything and this place is kept perfectly clean.

“Yeah,” Dieter nods, looking tense. “So I gotta get this place fumigated ASAP.”

“Of course.”

“But the fumes are bad for the baby so you’ll have to move your stuff into the main house until it’s finished.”

“For how long do you think?”

“Dunno,” Dieter shrugs, motioning to the room airily. “I was gonna call a guy in the morning to get some quotes. Might be a couple weeks before they can get someone out here.”

A couple weeks? Dieter has enough money to have the place fumigated tonight if he really wanted to. You gaze up at Dieter about to say as such when you see the searching nature of his eyes and suddenly the shoe drops.

There’s no roach.

You note the tense way he rubs his fingers together, the way his brows rise and eyes go owlish the longer you stare at him.

“I’m terrified of roaches,” you finally tell him as you start to throw your stuff into your suitcases. “Can I move my stuff in tonight?”

“Would be the safest,” Dieter nods exaggeratedly helping you to pack. It takes no time at all before he’s helping you carry the suitcases across the yard and into his home.

The guest room is just as nice as the guest house with tall ceilings but slightly less homey. Dieter prefers marble floors and gold accents. Things he was taught as a child meant rich. The bed is lovely, but minimalist. You are however very impressed with the large bathtub and even bigger rain forest shower.  You put your suitcases to the side, feeling Dieter watch you from the doorway.

“It’s still early you wanna watch a doc or something?”

You bite back the delighted smile that threatens to bleed over your features before you turn to face him.

“Sure.”

“Okay, you got your passport, the tickets are on your phone, your bags are packed,” the young man’s reedy voice lists off things from his checklist as the three of you stand in the kitchen the following week. Dieter is sitting on one of the stools dressed nicely and looking nervously from the paper to you, completely ignoring Rupert.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“Dieter.”

“What if you go into labor?”

“Almost three months early?” you force a laugh from where you stand by the fridge. “Then we have bigger issues than you not being here. Now c’mon. Mia’ll be here any second.”

Today is the photo spread for the movie Mia and Dieter starred in. It’ll run late so the lovebirds have decided on spending the night in a fancy hotel before shuttling off to Prague the next day. Dieter is always nervous about trips away but he realizes this is especially daunting since he’ll have no PA with him.

Diane has sent him someone new over during the week. A young man with bloodshot eyes and a nervous countenance named Robert or Roger. Dieter can’t remember. All he knows is that the kid does his job decently but he isn’t you.

But he promised himself that he would plan this trip for he and Mia. He researched the restaurants and hotels with her and booked it all. He got them the best seats in the plane and the nicest suite in the hotel.

But all he can think is that he’s going to be away from you for two weeks. Away from his son nestled safely in your body.  

“I made a new tape for him,” Dieter says, suddenly snapping. He reaches into his pocket and slides the tape towards you. “Make sure he listens.”

“Yes, yes,” you say rolling your eyes.

The doorbell rings and Rupert immediately goes to answer it leaving you and Dieter alone. He watches you peering into the fridge trying to find something to satisfy your current craving of salty vanilla pudding.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

His voice is a quiet hum. Your mouth tries to form the words but all you can think of is Dieters warm eyes, his hands caressing your belly, the sweet timbre of his voice when he reads to you when you can’t sleep. 

“I’m going to be okay,” you promise him softly as you glance over to him. “Now go say hello to your girlfriend.”

Dieter nods resolutely before bolting around the corner to see Mia. You hear his excited greeting and you try not to feel upset. Instead you dig around in the cupboard for something salty. You hear your name being called and you turn to see Dieter and Mia entering the room.

Mia’s eyes go round with shock at seeing you waddle towards her. You give a bright smile, despite the pang that goes through you at the sight of them hand-in-hand.

"Oh wow," Mia says when you waddle into the room holding a bag of chips. 

"Weird right?"

"A little," she laughs. You join in, knowing how strange this entire scenario is. You feel like a baby hippo meanwhile Mia looks like she just stepped off the runway.

“So nice to see you,” she says, giving you an awkward hug as she avoids the bump. “I brought a little something for the baby,” she hands a wrapped gift to Dieter, “and one for you.”

Dieter unwraps the package, bringing out a first edition copy of Winnie the Pooh. Your eyes widen at the sight. That must have cost her a fortune.

“Thanks babe,” Dieter says warmly, kissing her. You look away, unwilling to watch and unwrap your gift from Mia which turns out to be a delicate crystal flower vase. Arguably one of the most useless things on the planet since you hate flowers. Dieter knows this and you think you catch a curl of amusement in his face.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you falter.

“I know,” she says sweetly. “I just saw it and thought of you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, careful not to exchange amused looks with Dieter across the room. You shoot a soft smile at Mia. “Thank you so much. I’ll go pop it in my room so it doesn’t get broken. Magda tends to be a little chaotic when she cleans.”

You turn, about to go down the hallway to the bedroom when you feel something like tension in the room. You don't know why you pause but you do.

"I thought you were staying in the guest house?" She asks you but her eyes are scanning Dieter’s face.  

“She was,” Dieter explains, hoping his cheeks aren’t red. “But there were roaches.”

Mia’s face scrunches. “Roaches?”

“Yeah,” you finally fumble, rubbing absently at your stomach. "The guest house needed to be fumigated and that’s not safe for the baby. That’s the only reason I’m in the guest room. I’ll be out in the guest house as soon as the fumigation is over."

Mia nods, but you don't miss the lingering look there in her light eyes.

With Dieter in Prague for the next few weeks you have a lot of free time to yourself. The only problem is you have no one to spend it with. You can't be seen in public now without a bodyguard save for your short walks through Dieter's Calabasas neighborhood. Phone calls with your mom are no longer an option. So you spend most of your time scrolling through social media, watching movies and swimming.

Dieter has always been annoying but he's the kind of annoying that brings you comfort now. Without his loud presence in the house you start to feel lonely. A strange feeling you've never really experienced due to your busy lifestyle. 

It makes you long for the sound of Dieter's record player in the art room. Makes you long for his brash laughter during a funny commercial. Makes you long for the way your voices worked against one another when practicing lines, the sound of him muttering to himself when he reads something that interests him in the paper, the way he rasps your name when he’s just woken up.  

All the sounds of Dieter that you realize have come to be their own comforting symphony to you. 

But he’s with Mia and that's how it should be. They're on the same level. And you know that these feelings are from your hormones. This warmth will fade the second this child is taken from you and is likely contributing to this lonely feeling that arises with you each empty morning.

He’s only been gone four days but those days seem to stretch into eternity. Your mind is usually so full and your schedule packed. But you’re almost annoyingly free right now. Dieter has made only one request of you and that is to update the app every day at least once. He says it makes him feel less guilty about leaving, even though you're the one who encouraged it.

So you do.

29 weeks

Cravings

SALT

Vanilla

pie filling

chips

peanuts

Missing

the ability to see my feet

Baby is size of butternut squash

The only thing that tethers you to Dieter are the sporadic text messages he sends you. Where you once found his constant need to stay in touch annoying, now you crave his random messages, re-reading them with a smile.

[1:44pm] D: I hate not speaking Czech. I feel like everyone is making fun of me and I have no proof. [1:44pm]: You're being paranoid.  [1:44pm] D: I'm not!!! [1:46pm] D: Okay maybe a little. Mia and I did an edible.  [1:46pm]: Dieter! [1:46pm] D: Diane said no hard drugs! Edibles are natural. 

You roll your eyes. 

[1:47pm]: Whatever. Hope you're having fun. 

You wish you could see his face when you recall Mia's instagram. You forgot you follow her. The second you click on her story you wish you hadn't. It's her and Dieter in a gorgeous spot in Prague chatting with the caption: Czech us Out! @BravoitsDieter

Your loneliness hits you on the fifth day quite acutely. And instead of turning to television or swimming you lay on your back in bed and stare up into the ceiling before your fingers fumble for your phone and you type hurriedly.

[6:08am]: I think he has your hair. [6:12am] D: Huh? What?? Why? [6:12am]: They say if the mother has lots of heartburn then the kid will have lots of hair. Right now I feel like my heart has been dropped in acid.  [6:13am] D: No way. I thought babies were always bald. [6:13am]: Not always. I wasn't. Were you? [6:13am] D: Dunno. Never saw baby photos of myself.  [6:14am]: Why not? [6:14am] D: My mom cared about stuff like that. When she died my dad just put everything in the attic and tried to forget. 

You didn't know that about Dieter. You've heard snatches of information from other staff that Dieters dad is a low life, but to not save photos of your kid? That seems cruel. 

[6:14am]: I'm sorry. [6:15am] D: NP. [6:15am] D: Mia is taking me to a museum so I gtg ttyl

You frown at the phone.

"What a bitch," you murmur before stopping yourself. You think about how your baby can probably hear sounds outside the womb now and you feel guilty.

"No, actually, she's not a bitch. She's really lovely and she's so good for your dad."

Your hands drift over your belly slowly, subconsciously as you speak and soon your eyes follow suit. 

"Strange to think you're just in there all snuggly," you tell your belly with amusement. You gasp when you think you can feel a slight flutter within you abdomen. 

"Is that you?" You wonder aloud. "Can you hear me?" 

The fluttering continues and you feel something in you shift. Your heart squeezes pleasantly.  He rarely moves around for just you. It seems he's most active when Dieter is nearby.

"You're really in there," you laugh to yourself. "And you can hear me."

The lonely feelings begin to dissipate. You're not alone - you have your son to keep you company. You talk to him through the day. You make jokes about bubble having Dieters hair. You talk to Bubble about the book you read on the porch. When you watch a documentary you narrate for the baby. 

You update the app with a cheerful photo of you making a heart over the bellybutton with your fingers. You think Dieter will get a kick out of it. 

When you go to bed you put the headphones over your belly and hit play on the walkman.

"This is a new one from your Dad," you tell your belly wryly as you position the foam on either side of your bump. "So I apologize now if it's fucking annoying."

With a serene smile you go to sleep with his muffled voice against your skin. And when you wake up on the sixth day you feel good. It's not until you look at the calendar that you're reminded of Friday's date.

Your birthday. 

The first one without your father. It makes your stomach drop. 

As if all of California has gotten the memo the day is grey and drizzly. You spend most of the day napping and eating whatever Petra has put together. But by mid afternoon you’re feeling restless. You try walking around the block, but the weather drives you back inside. You try to distract yourself but nothing seems to work.

Petra and Magda have gone home for the day. It’s just you and bubble and right now it feels like it’s just you. You decide to order a pizza for dinner, and as you wait for your Hawaiian Delight to arrive you can’t help but reach out to the one person you wish was here.

[5:48pm]: How is Prague? [5:50pm] D: Boring. [5:50pm]: Only you would say Prague is boring, Dieter. [5:51pm] D: In the airport now. Gonna go to Germany for a couple days. Mia really wants to see Cologne Cathedral and apparently they’re doing some once-in-a-decade tour event thing. I dunno. How’s the bubble? [5:51pm]: Still here.

You don’t know why you’re both still calling him Bubble. The tabloids have made it impossible not to be aware that you’re pregnant after all. But there’s something sweet about referring to him as your little Bubble.

[5:52pm] D: airport is so fucking noisy and I'm so tired. found coffee though.

[5:52pm]: Make sure not to drink too much. You won’t sleep on the plane. [5:52pm] D: U didn’t update the app today. [5:53pm]: Sorry, been distracted. [5:53pm] D:??? [5:53pm] D: How come?

You have no desire to get into this over text. Besides it’s not Dieters problem, it’s yours. And it’s not a problem it’s just. . . life.

[5:55pm]: Doesn’t matter. Here, this will have to do.

You attach a picture of your hand over your swollen bump and send it over.

You’re surprised when you see Dieter calling.

“Hello?”

“Why are you distracted?”

“Dieter don’t you have better things to do than call me about this?” You say rolling your eyes, but still delighted to be hearing his raspy voice. “Aren’t you in the airport?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t Mia with you?”

“She went to get another magazine for the flight. You gonna tell me what’s going on? Is it the Bubble?”

“No,” you say grunting as you lean back against the sofa.  

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine!”

“Cmon,” Dieter cajoles. “You know I’m just gonna keep calling and texting until you tell me.”

“Its pregnancy brain,” you throw out, hoping this will satiate him.

“Liar. Your voice always does that clipped thing when you lie.”

You can’t help but feel a small smile cross your features. You hear the distant boarding call for his flight and you decide you might as well tell him. It’s not like he doesn’t already know that your dead is dead.

“It’s just… It’s my birthday. The first one since my dad died and ...."

You trail off. You hear silence on the other end of the phone and then a soft fuck.

“Dieter?”

“I thought it was next month,” Dieter is murmuring and you can hear him tapping on the phone. “Fucking calendar. Fuck. I thought it was next month same day. That’s what I have it as. Fuck. This is why I don’t program my own fucking electronics. Fuck.”

“Nope. Today,” you clarify, amused at how frazzled he sounds. “But it’s not your problem. It’s just this is my first birthday without my Dad and, my Mom isn’t talking to me and I realized I’ve worked so hard so long I have no real friends and…. It’s just…”

You break off when you feel tears starting.

“Anyway, not your problem,” you say forcing your voice up an octave. “I’m only telling you because you asked. I hope you and Mia enjoy your trip! I can’t wait to see photos.”

“Hey, wait-“

“I gotta go,” you say, brushing the stray tears that have escaped. “Pizza guy is here. Bye!”

You hang up the phone and then place it on silent. You don’t want to talk with him anymore. You don’t want to talk with anyone. You just spoke to Dieter but that doesn't stop you from missing him. It gets to the point where you pull up old interview footage with him on YouTube just so you can hear his voice and see his smile. 

When the pizza arrives you pay the guy delivering it, but then you just shove the box in the fridge. You take a shower, letting the tears mingle with the steamy droplets before pulling on a new nightdress. You grab the walkman and headphones, about to put them on when you pad t the kitchen for a glass of water.

You walk back, about to retire to your guest room, walking past Dieter’s bedroom. You’ve rarely ever been inside it and never when he isn’t at home. But something about today compels you into it, something make you push open the door and walk to his bed.

The room is recently cleaned by Petra, the bed freshly made, the floors sparkling, his clothing put away. The fireplace is off but you switch it on, noticing his tattered green robe freshly washed and hanging on the back of the bedroom door. You don’t even think about it, you just pull it on over your sleep dress and stumble into his bed.

Dieter’s bed is so comfy, even better than the one in his guest house and room. You curl under the sheets, burying your face in his pillow. It smells like his expensive shampoo and the cologne he sometimes wears. It brings tears to your eyes. 

You wish he was here. 

You turn onto your back, tummy swollen and resting heavily. It makes you long for Dieter in all aspects. Not just to fuck, but to spend time with. He's so different from anyone you know. He doesn't follow rules or social norms. But when you're with him you feel calm and not judged. It makes you feel like you can let go. 

"Your daddy really is wonderful," you murmur to your belly, stroking it. "You might hear bad stuff but you need to know what a good heart he has. He's so generous and funny and he loves so deeply. You're not even here yet and he's so in love with you." 

You look at the walkman resting beside you, and instead of putting it around your abdomen something inspires you to put the headphones on yourself. You’ve never listened to the message before but tonight you do.

You slip the cheap foam over your ears, rewinding the tape and smiling when his voice sounds out over the tape.

“Hey little Bravo, this is your dad speaking. I just found out you’re gonna be a boy. Woah. My son. Uh, I need you to know that you are so special and that when you’re born we’re gonna have so much fun. I’ve already made a list of places we’re gonna go. And-“

It goes on like this for several minutes with Dieter excitedly detailing all his future plans for he and his son. You hang onto every word, enraptured with the life he has in store for his son. You imagine a future with Dieter holding a baby with his same wild hair. And in this future you see him reach for a woman, but she isn’t you. It’s Mia, and she looks so happy with them. The perfect family.

Dieter’s voice draws you back in.

“You need to know that your Mom loves you just as much as me. I watch her patting you and whispering to you all the time. She told me last week that you were the size of a head of cauliflower. Then she started humming a song about her cauliflower son.”

You laugh out loud at the memory of you swimming a few weeks ago humming a tune about a cauliflower son. You didn’t even realize Dieter was paying attention.  You turn your attention back to the recording.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so so much. I’m so excited to meet you.”

You stop the tape, rewinding it.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

You sniffle, rewinding the tape again.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

Again.

“I love you so much.”

Again and again you rewind to hear that section. And as you finally drift off into sleep it’s to the gentle sound of the man you desire whispering how much he loves you.

Dieter arrives at home late, toeing off his sneakers as he yawns, scratching his belly before heading for his bedroom. The suitcase is left at the front door, tomorrow’s problem. He’s exhausted from the flight and he needs to get some sleep before he talks to you tomorrow morning.

He opens the door to his room, preparing to throw himself into bed when he notices the fireplace is on. He pauses, seeing you in your bed lying on your side sleepily soundly. A small smile curls onto his lips when he sees the bright yellow walkman in your hand, fingers loosely around it. What strikes him is that you're wearing the headphones; you don't have them around your belly. 

Dieter is quiet, looking down at your peaceful sleeping face illuminated by your bedside table. One of your hands is splayed over your belly protectively and this makes him smile. He gently pulls the earphones from off your head, sliding the walkman from your grip and placing both on his nightstand. 

He figures he’ll sleep in the guest room tonight, musing that you’re playing musical beds tonight.

You murmur something sleepily, something be doesn't catch. He takes a minute longer to look at you and then his face hovers over yours. He kisses you softly, an innocent press of his lips to yours. 

"G'night baby mama."

You shift partly awake, arms reaching out to wrap around his neck. He grins, allowing himself to get pulled into the bed next to you. You’re so warm. You don't say anything; you just snuggle up against him, face nuzzling against his neck. 

"Go back to sleep, baby," Dieter tells your sleepy frame. "Just turning the light off."

He presses a ginger kiss to your temple before his free hand clicks the light next to the bed.  

"Okay, love you, g'night," you murmur, still mostly dozing. 

Dieter is silent, unmoving as your words rattle around in his head. He waits until you're snoring before he finally replies. 

"I love you too."

TAGLIST: @getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @sptbear @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392

#dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #series #a little sun

[sorryimananti-romantic]

thoughts on this choi san?

(quality is low but)

quality may be low but that's the highest quality ultra 4k hd man ever to exist on this earth and i'm so down for him-

and in this fit?? biker san??? i've got cute little collection too hehe

you wanna know my thoughts? biker san, bad boy of the neighbourhood who comes across you by chance when you're out with your camera, trying to capture a photo of the landscape in the golden hour for a little competition- nothing fancy, you just finally managed to gather the guts and enter a competition with this new skill/hobby.

you can't seem to get the perfect shot. like everything is perfect- the sun looks absolutely breathtaking with the pastel hues of the sky, the saturation is perfect, the main road is mostly empty- lack of traffic which might be what's making this shot look empty. the road is reflecting the sunlight beautifully too, but you just need a little something-

you were so focused on changing the settings of your camera and sulking that you almost didn't hear the sound of the heavy bike rolling behind you until it came to a pause and you realised it wasn't bg noise. you weren't sure what you were expecting but this was not it- the flashy jacket and helmet threw you off.

"looks like you're having a little trouble," the man said as he took off his helmet and you internally wowed when he stopped ruffling his hair and finally looked at you- all sharp angles and perfectly sculpted that softened into something sweet when he smiled a little. "couldn't help but find your sulking cute when i stopped by the signal."

"oh," you finally exhaled, not realising you had been almost holding your breath. "yeah, um... yeah," you looked at the camera and then back at him, finding him grinning at you and you felt flustered- he must be finding your inability to form a proper sentence quite funny. you straightened, "i'm just trying to take a shot of the golden hour but it looks empty."

"i see," he looked in the direction you pointed. "i don't know much about photography, but is there any way i can help? i could take you to a better location if that's what you want."

"that's a kind offer... but i'm not sure i would want to get on a bike with a stranger," you politely declined.

"of course," he nodded, understanding.

"but..." you scratched your chin. "there's another way you could help. do you mind being a model for my shot? i'd like to capture your silhouette- it would look perfect."

he raised his brows, wondering if there was a compliment hidden somewhere there. "uh... i haven't tried that but i think i could pose with your help?"

"yes, thank you," you sighed in relief and he finally relaxed. you asked him to just stand in the middle of the road when he's sure it's safe and there's no traffic, and to simply look in the distance. take off his helmet. play with the bike. surprisingly, he was quite good at it and you wondered if this was a flirting tactic in his book.

but you soon got your answer- when you showed him his photos and he reacted with surprise, you knew then that it was his first time actually posing with the bike. "it's definitely you, it can't be me."

"i only clicked a photo, you were the one who made it pretty," you told him for the umpteenth time, cheeks hurting from smiling and laughing as you scrolled through the photos and chose the best shot. you told him about your competition entry just now and he got all anxious, saying if you had told him earlier he would have tried better but you insisted he did a great job anyway.

"tell you what- if i win this, even 2nd or 3rd prize... i'll treat you to dinner."

"on one condition," he smiled.

"what?"

"if you like me by the end of the dinner enough to trust me a little, let me drop you home on my bike."

you considered him. was it something he was used to offering people?

"i get to be your first model, and you get to be the first passenger," he told you. you found yourself smiling at that and you nodded slowly, both of you caught in a trance as you stared at each other, lost in trying to process a gazillion thoughts in your heads. you finally broke the silence and asked for his contact number.

"your name?"

"choi san."

suddenly, you're frozen in your spot and you manage a weak smile, praying he didn't detect that little pause. because there's no way he's the choi san. the 'bad boy' you've heard so much about from your friends-- just what had the told you? something about him being a biker, yes, and then?? you can't seem to recall and you internally curse yourself for tuning them out whenever they ranted about boys. you wished you had actually paid attention, but all you know is that he's not supposed to be good news.

but here he is, with his innocent smile and curious eyes. is this a facade? a trap? you can't tell, because you genuinely don't recall what you've heard about him. you've def seen him ride his bike around- it was odd how many people rode bikes here, you thought when you moved to the neighbourhood a few months ago. if he's the playboy they say he is, you'll have to tread cautiously.

"thank you again," you grinned at him, the suspicion in his eyes disappearing. "i'll text you when they announce the winners."

"you did a great job," he patted your shoulder. "if you don't win, i'm treating you anyway."

you laughed at that- a genuine laugh. "offer accepted."

you might regret that phrase. in the week that followed, you got closer through texts and you learn more about who he is (with you). and then on the day they announce the winners, before you text san, you finally call your friend and ask him about the infamous biker so when you sit before him, you know who you're facing.

but learning that he's a notorious playboy who's way too messy to get tangled with doesn't stop you from having a good time at the dinner you treat him to. and when you get on the bike with him, you think it's the most thrilling moment of your life as he races through the streets and alleys. so thrilling that you ask him to take the longer route and he obeys, showing you how the river looks at night- a blur of colourful lights being reflected on the surface, something you'd like to take a shot of. you tell him that when you make him drop you outside your block.

"can i take you there then, when you decide to go?" he asks. "as an assistant this time?"

your smile is his answer.

[bonus]

#badboybiker!san x photographer!reader #i might make this a full oneshot who knows? #i've been thinking about this san for a while now tbh #there you go hehetmonne thanks for triggering me to write this little blurb hehe #choi san #choi san x reader #san x reader #san scenarios #san imagines #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #yumi.asks

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Faking It | Part V

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

And thus continues my ode to all the tropes that ever troped XD Wanna hear something funny? I have this story saved in my one-shots folder. Like, what was I thinking??

Anyway, thank you so much for following this meandering tale. I still can't believe the epic support and love you guys have given me and this story <3 I appreciate you more than you know!

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: swearing, some angst (y'all knew it was coming)

Start from the beginning: Part I

You open your eyes the following morning to find Bradley’s arm draped over your body, his fingers wrapped around your hand near your chest. You hold your breath, lest you wake him before you can fully appreciate the moment. You close your eyes for a minute, imagining that all of it is real.

Before the minute is up, however, Bradley begins to stir. You decide to keep your eyes closed, curious as to how he will react upon waking in an embrace with you. You feel his body shift behind you, his head lifting slowly off the pillow. He doesn’t withdraw his arm just yet and you can feel his breath warming the tip of your ear as he rests his head briefly over yours. His fingers tighten around your hand for a split second before he releases it and drags his arm away, his hand lightly skimming the exposed skin under the hem of your shirt as he rolls onto his back. Meanwhile, you nearly convulse at the absolute upheaval of your entire nervous system as your body grapples with the chaos ignited by his fleeting touch.

You turn around slowly to see him covering his face with his hands and your heart sinks. He’s clearly mortified and possibly regretting the entire endeavor. He must know that you like him. He must see right through you. And then it hits you. You were drunk last night. Had you done something that might have given you away? Other than convincing him to share a bed with you and cuddle you to sleep? You think you might be sick.

You sit straight up, wincing at the pounding in your head, and slip out of the bed without so much as uttering a good morning to the man who’s been spooning you all night. You rush into the bathroom, hurriedly locking the door behind you, as if Bradley might try to barge in. You start running cold water over your face, trying desperately to remember every single thing that happened the previous night.

Bradley had seemed fed up with Steven, but that was likely for show. Bradley had helped remove your shoes, but that was likely because you would’ve otherwise ended up with your face in the sand. Similarly, carrying you when you had expressed some ridiculous phobia of crocodiles? That was likely an attempt to get you home before you did something stupid. You cringe, looking up at your grimace in the mirror.

When you step out of the bathroom, Bradley is already dressed. He looks over at you with an apprehensive expression. “You up for some breakfast?” he asks.

“Uh, I’m actually going to head over to my sister’s chalet,” you say quickly, gathering your things. “All the bridesmaids are getting ready there.”

“You should eat something,” he says.

Your eyes meet his across the room. “I’m sure they’re going to have a platter of sandwiches or something.”

Bradley looks like he might have something else to add but ultimately seems to reconsider. “I guess I’ll see you later,” he says.

You give him a tight smile. “That’s the plan,” you respond, heading for the door.

…

You spend the morning in a daze. Your sister is getting married and you can hardly think of anything other than Bradley Bradshaw. Once or twice, this realization infuriates you, but then you blissfully revert to daydreaming about his captivating grin and his expressive eyes and his beautifully sculpted shoulders.

By the time the ceremony rolls around, you’re frighteningly untethered from reality, and you desperately try to focus on the task at hand. You take a deep breath, grounding yourself before taking the final step off the stone staircase onto the perfectly manicured lawn, clutching your bridesmaid’s bouquet to your chest. You haven’t seen Bradley since that morning and your nerves are shot with the anticipation of what the day might have in store. Your thoughts that morning may have all revolved around Bradley’s shoulders but, if you’re going to make it through the rest of the weekend, you’ll have to feign indifference toward him, romantically speaking – while pretending that he is the love of your life. It can’t be as complicated as it sounds. You take several more breaths, concentrating all your efforts on your walk toward the altar without letting your heels sink into the soft ground.

Your eyes scan the chairs briefly but you see no sign of Bradley’s wavy, brown hair. You take your place next to the other bridesmaids, turning to the collection of lawn chairs in front of the flowered trellis. You’re still searching for Bradley in the crowd when the flower girl skips up the aisle sprinkling handfuls of rose petals over the freshly cut turf. When you can’t locate him, you start to worry that perhaps he’s changed his mind about attending. The thought upsets you because the least he could have done was talk to you beforehand so that his absence wouldn’t catch you off guard.

You’re still annoyed when your gaze lands on a particularly handsome face that’s smirking up at you from the assembled guests. You stare at him for a moment, shocked that you didn’t recognize him sooner. He’s wearing a light-colored suit and his hair is slightly more gelled than usual but, other than that, he’s the same old Bradley. Except, you’ve never seen him in formal attire before. And he looks good.

You give him a smile, playing the part of the enamored girlfriend despite the turmoil in your gut at having left things unsettled that morning. You look away from him so as not to give him an opportunity to perceive the discomfort on your face. In doing so, however, your eyes settle on Steven instead. He grins at you broadly, wiggling his eyebrows. You feel sick to your stomach and promptly look away just as your sister makes her way down the aisle in her blindingly white gown. Behind her slender form, you notice that Bradley is glaring at Steven.

You smile inwardly at Bradley’s transparent animosity toward him. Your ex-boyfriend certainly deserves it but, what’s more, it’s a pleasant feeling having Bradley in your corner against enemy number one.

When the ceremony comes to an end and all the guests rise as the wedding party heads back up the aisle, Bradley gives you a slight nod as you walk by which sends a fluttering sensation throughout your insides. You quicken your pace, racing after the happy couple as if you plan to outrun them, completely forgetting about the grass versus heels situation. Your left foot sinks into the ground and you nearly lose a shoe as you stumble forward.

Just as you’re about to fall face first into the greenest grass you’ve ever seen, Bradley hops out of his row and grabs your arm, sliding his hand around your waist to steady you. It all happens so quickly that you’re still visibly shaken as you straighten your back.

“You okay?” he asks, his face hovering far too close to yours as he leans forward to look at you.

“I think so,” you breathe. “Good catch,” you add.

He smirks with one side of his mouth. “You are too, babe,” he replies.

You stare at him for a moment, trying to decipher how much of the current scenario is an act, and you decide that Bradley Bradshaw has missed his chance at a seriously successful career in acting.

“Shall we?” he asks, holding his arm out for you. “I hear it’s cocktail hour.”

You try to calm your overwrought nerves and glance up at him with a guarded smile. After all, you need to convince your mother – and Steven – that you’re in a happy relationship, and you can’t do that by avoiding poor Bradley’s gaze all evening. It’s not his fault he’s hot as fuck. “Let’s do this,” you say, sliding your arm through his as the rest of the guests begin to make their way toward the patio where the servers are already walking around with platters brimming with ridiculously small, and unnervingly unrecognizable, food.

…

“You look good,” Bradley says casually as he reaches to take a miniscule quiche off a circulating platter.

You swallow a large chunk of stuffed mushroom, praying you don’t choke on it before you could respond. “You’re not so bad yourself, Bradshaw.”

He grins, popping the quiche into his mouth.

You meet his gaze and nearly lose yourself in his eyes when you feel a violent tug on your dress. You look down to see your niece smiling up at you. She continues pulling on your dress even though she’s already captured your attention and you have to pry her little hands off the chiffon skirt before the material disintegrates in her iron grip. “Aly, Aly, what’s up?” you ask hurriedly.

“Is this the pilot?” she asks with a sly smile on her face as she turns to look up at Bradley.

Bradley grins at the little girl. “Hey, how’d you know?” he exclaims.

Aly giggles. “I guessed,” she admits.

“Good guess,” Bradley says, winking at her.

“How big is your airplane?” Aly asks excitedly.

Bradley lifts his eyes to look at you as you bite into your bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Size doesn’t really matter, little girl,” Bradley says.

A small chuckle escapes your mouth despite your efforts to contain it and Bradley shoots you a pointed look.

“What matters,” Bradley continues, “is how you use it.”

“Use it?” Aly looks at him with furrowed brows.

“Fly it!” Bradley corrects himself. “How you fly it.”

You put a hand to your mouth, trying to hold in your laughter.

“In any case,” Bradley says. “My plane is quite large as far as planes go.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and turn away, because looking at Bradley will certainly compromise your poker face.

“What’s so funny, auntie?” Aly yanks on your dress again.

You turn to look at her with tears in your eyes from the strain of withholding your laughter.

“Yeah, auntie,” Bradley chimes in. “What’s so funny?”

“I am not laughing,” you say with a giant smile.

Bradley chuckles, shaking his head. “Get your mind out of the gutter, auntie,” he says, and the rough quality of his deep voice makes the statement sound ridiculously sexy, nudging your mind in precisely the opposite direction.

“Yeah, auntie,” Aly agrees. “Get your mind out of the udder.”

At that, you burst out laughing. Grabbing Bradley’s shoulder – the very one you’d been fantasizing about for the better part of the day – you try to steady yourself while attempting to stifle your own amusement. Bradley chuckles while his hand slides around you and rubs your arm absently as you try to breathe through your hysterics.

Aly squeezes in between the two of you, peeking up at you with a grimace. “You’re really happy today, auntie,” she says.

Bradley’s hand stops stroking your arm and his embrace briefly tightens around you.

“Well,” you say, wiping your eyes and straightening your back. “It is my sister’s wedding day. Happiest day of my life.”

Aly eyes you skeptically while Bradley’s hand falls back to his side as you slowly move away.

Bradley looks down at the girl. “You ever heard of the Super-Hornet, Aly?” he asks.

Aly glances up at him with wide eyes and shakes her head.

“Tell you what,” he says, crouching down so that his face is level with hers. “You tell your auntie that she’s going to have to let you borrow me for a dance so that I can tell you all about it.”

You chuckle lightly as Aly glances up at you with a couple of round, excited eyes. “I suppose I can lend him for one dance,” you say.

The girl runs off cheerfully and Bradley rises, his eyes settling on yours as a smile spreads on his face. “Look at you being so generous,” he says.

You shrug. “What kind of person would I be if I refused to share with a child?”

He laughs, his eyes still holding your gaze as he licks his lips. “So,” he says after a moment. “You left in a hurry this morning.”

Your giddy mood instantly deflates and, as you contend with a sudden and rather debilitating panic attack that derails your plans for an uneventful evening, the space between the two of you becomes fraught with tension. “I was running late,” you say dismissively, turning away from him to try and locate another server distributing appetizers.

“I saw your sister at breakfast,” he says.

You shoot him a horrified look. “Oh no!” you exclaim. “Was she wondering why we weren’t together?”

 “Probably,” he says. “But that wasn’t really my point.”

“Fuck,” you groan. “She’s going to tell my mom. And my mom’s already on my case. And” –

“Why’d you lie?” he asks.

You glance up at him. “I didn’t lie. I had no idea my sister would still be having breakfast.”

“Your sister said you weren’t supposed to show up till noon.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why are you interrogating my sister?” you ask crossly.

Bradley watches you levelly. “My bad,” he says after a short period of silence. “I thought we could be adults about this.” He pushes off the banister and heads across the terrace toward the bar.

You let out a frustrated sigh and shake your head. Of course, Bradley would choose the most crucial event of the entire weekend to pick a fight with you. You stomp off in the opposite direction, grabbing a flute of champagne from one of the trays as you go.

…

“Trouble in paradise?”

You look up from your drink to see Steven eyeing Bradley, who is standing on his own at the stone barrier separating the terrace and the grassy slope that slants toward the lake below. He’s looking out at the water with an impassive expression on his face. “Not now, Steven,” you say tiredly.

Steven leans into the high-top table you’re standing at. “I think now is the perfect time, baby,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Look,” Steven says, sliding closer to you along the curve of the table. “It’s clear to me that this Bradley guy – that he’s just a rebound…”

Steven continues talking but you’ve stopped listening. You’re watching Bradley finally turn around and look at you. Even from a distance, you can see the subtle shift in his features when he notices whom you’re conversing with. Bradley sets his jaw and starts towards you.

“…but I’m here now,” you hear Steven’s voice frighteningly close to your ear and you flinch, backing away.

Steven is giving you a smirk that he probably thinks is irresistible and perhaps, once upon a time, it had been for you. You’re about to tell him off when Bradley walks around the table from behind, forcing his way in between you and Steven. “I’m getting tired of finding you near my girlfriend,” he says, the antagonism palpable in his tone.

Steven appears annoyed that his advances have been cut short. “We were just having a chat,” he replies.

Bradley gives his head a slight shake. “Plenty of other people here to chat with,” he says tersely.

Steven lets out a scathing laugh and glances at you. “Y/N, since when do you let your boyfriends decide who you get to talk to?”

You’re about to bite back when Bradley takes a step toward Steven, lowering his face so that he could stare him down at close proximity. “I’ll tell you what,” he says in a low voice. “I see you bothering her again, and you and I? We’re going to have a chat. And, believe me, you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Steven takes a step back uncomfortably, glancing between you and Bradley with a begrudging expression. “I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he calls to you before turning and walking away.

Bradley shakes his head at him heatedly before turning to face you. You don’t meet his gaze, still upset with him for losing his temper and stalking off earlier, leaving you to navigate cocktail hour on your own.

Bradley doesn’t say anything either, so the two of you just stand in silence, refusing to look at one another.

Then, Bradley says, “Your mother’s on her way over.”

“Great,” you grumble, letting out an irritated sigh. You look up at Bradley with a sour expression. “Can you just pretend to be happy to be here?” you say, although the acidity in your voice is a far cry from the pleading and begging you’d done only a couple of days ago. You realize that you’re taking him and the favor he’s doing you for granted, but you’re far too mad to apologize for it now.

Bradley gives you a stony look and shifts his jaw. “Can you?” he asks flatly.

You bring a hand to your face and close your eyes, trying to reset your emotions. But it’s too late; your mother’s condescending tone makes you bristle. “You two seem to be enjoying the party,” she says with a hint of irony.

You glance up at Bradley worriedly to find that he’s already watching you. You wish you’d never asked him to come. There is no way the two of you could convince your extremely attentive mother that you are in love when you can barely stand to look at one another. At the same time, it’s not like you can come clean about the whole thing now; you’ll appear even more unhinged than your mother has already deemed you to be.

“Your gracious daughter here was just trying to convince me not to throw Steven into the lake,” Bradley says, apparently channeling his anger toward you into a jealous boyfriend persona.

You mother visibly stiffens. “This is a formal event,” she says sternly, giving him a horrified look. “There will be no such altercations.”

Bradley lets out a contemptuous chuckle, sticking his hands into his pockets before balling them up into fists. “That’ll be up to Steven, ma’am.”

Read Part VI

Tag List:

The rest of the tag list is in the comments!

@lonelywitchv2

@fanboyluvr

@marrianena

@anotherr-fine-mess

@mrs-obrien

@living-in-my-imagination88

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@whitewolfsbitch

@beebslebobs

@gretagerwigsmuse

@mak-32

@strangunddurm

@desert-fern

@maverick-wingman

@jamielovesbucky

@n3ssm0nique

@misshoneypaper

@roosterscockpit

@jakexfmc

@wintercap89

@gracielou0518

@averyhotchner

@bxwitched

@yeetzel

@xoxabs88xox

@cynisarmy

@kwanimations

@onlygetaway

@hope-love-equality2

@shanimallina87

@ijustwantedplums

@oliviah-25

@gayforsteve

@gingerbreadandpaper

@vemonbby

@sebastianstansimp

@alexxavicry

@spn-marvel-nerd

@army24--7

@emmy626

@criminalyetminimal

@candid-confetti

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@thefandomimagines

@moony-artemis

@my-secret-life-1

@roostereads

@currentlybradshaw

@whisperofsong

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #top gun #rooster #top gun fanfic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #miles teller #miles teller x reader #miles teller imagine #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster fic #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x y/n

[fujiihime]

Stranger Things Reading List (Series/One-Shots) - I (Full)

I made a list of currently reading and recommended Stranger Things fanfics here on Tumblr. All were beautifully written by amazing writers. These writers are incredible and full of brilliant ideas, so please visit their blogs and check all of their works. Happy reading! Don’t forget to comment and reblog their works. You may also reblog this list to share with everyone/blog mutuals. Thank you! (For 18+, MDNI)

Reading List - Part II

Series

Steve Harrington

* Oblivion by @wisteriaah * Upside Down Feelings by @aristrocrat * Steve Harrington Series/One-Shots by @harringtown * In The Dark I Will Call Your Name by @americaswritings * Soundtrack Of A Life by @mackenzie-is-loading * Defiance by @wintersxani * 003 by @homeofthepeculiar * The Divorce by @asgardwinter * Strange by @damn-stark * A Place In This World by @outerspacebisexual * Touch by @poeticandors * Dare | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | by @fan-fantasies * Head Over Heels by @theowritesstuff * Into Your Arms by @thegettingbyp2 * Ethereal by @rekiilysm * Out For Blood by @kerstynn * ST Series: Kate Hopper by @stranger-marauders * Sex Education by @sortagaysortahigh * Unlucky by @agentjemmafitzsimmons​​ * New Journey by @suckerfordylansstuff​

Eddie Munson

* Munson’s Mixtape by @burgundybmw​​ * Right Where You Left Me | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 by @fairy-asian​ * TBSY | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 by @edwardmunsonsimp * Faded Memories | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 by @herroyalhighnessqueenmomo * Scotty Doesn’t Know by @munsonsbbyg * Dancing With Myself by @ambrossart * Eddie Munson Series by @baddiewiththebook * I’m Not Above Begging | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | ED by @chvoswxtch​ * Teenage Dirtbag by @kaiasyko * Meet The Munsons by @mypoisonedvine * More Than A Feeling by @dingusfreakhxrrington​ * Heavy Metal Love Of Mine by @morwap * Why Can’t This Be Love? by @screwtoddstevesherdaddynow​ * My Favorite Henderson by @luvfae​

Billy Hargrove

* Lonely Is Our Lives by @thewordswewrite​ * Hell’s Bells | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ED by @fan-fantasies * 18 Series & Billy One-Shots by @perpetuelledaydreaming * Show Me How by @phobiics * Biology Of Billy Hargrove by @thatonecurlygirl * Stranger Than Fiction by @multi-fandomfuckboy * BH Series & One-Shots by @takemepedropascal * She’s A Runner | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 by @latelyanobsession​ * The Leather Jacket Effect by @beetboxx​​​

One-Shots / Short Series

Steve Harrington

* Losing Game by @mcybank * Tolerate It | 2 | 3 by @multi-writer * Ultimatum | 2 by @ficsaregettingstranger * Tongue Tied | 2 by @sinclaiirs * Heartstopper by @forever-rogue * It Must Have Slipped Out | 2 by @girasollake * Well Don’t | 2 by @skyebounded * Put It Into Practice | 2 | 3 | 4 by @she-is-juniper * Unspoken Feelings by @appocalipse * Kiss Me With Your Fist by @forever-rogue * VHS Player | 2 by @adriannamunson * Adult Education | 2 | 3 by @chestharrington * Micro Touch | 2 | 3 by @bvckybanres * Kiss In The Rain by @magicchai * Falling All In You | 2 by @sophia-busch * The Way I Loved You by @lurkymurker * Deja Vu by @maximoff-pan * Operation Love Me by @justburningdaylight * August by @londonharrington * Breakups and Makeups by @bellatrixscurls * The Things We Don’t Say @bimrwolf  * Mean It by @maxmybeloved * You Belong With Me by @peterbenjiparker * I Wanna Be Yours by @ourautumn86​​

Eddie Munson

* The Broken Hearts Club | ED1 | ED2 by @multi-writer​ * CBCC | Tears In The Rain | Gone With Sin by @queers-gambit​ * Eddie Munson Mini-Series by @strangermarvelss * Hold On To My Heart by @mypoisonedvine * Memories by @ur-local-geek-fest * You Look So Good In Green | 2 | 3 by @shiorinotshiori * Marigold | 2 by @fallen-stark * Separate Ways | 2 | 3 by @theveryfires * False God | 2 | 3 by @goldustwomun * He Loves Me Not | 2 by @hxneybimbo * Deja Vu by @marvelsswansong * I Could Be Your New Spring  * FWB To Lovers  * Love Me | 2 by @steviebears * Break A Leg, Not A Heart | 2 | 3 by @robynnnhooddd * They Don’t Love Me | 2 by @neverinadream * There Are Worse Things I Could Do | 2 by @once-upon-an-imagine * Safe | 2 | 3 by @loeyparker * Boyish by @hauntlikeaghost0 * Eddie Munson Mini-Series by @dahliarose3 * Right To The Bone | 2 by @havecourage-darling * I'll Watch Your Life In Pictures | 2 by @forever-rogue * Hurt | 2 by @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel * Heartstring Mayhem by @thisismynerdyself * Baby Munson by @webslinger-holland * A Little Push | 2 by @ladyfogg * Eddie Mini-Series/One-Shots by @xcatnapsx * More Than Friends by @1-800-munson * I’m A Fan Of Cheerleaders by @coolnamestillpending * This Could Be The End Of Everything by @andvys * The Freak And The Cheerleader by @moonlightsolo * Take You Home | 2 | 3 by @strangernstranger​ * Love On A Wire by @mooncakesofpan ​

Billy Hargrove

* He Needs Her by @steveusesfaberge * It’s Just Sex | 2 | 3 by @erosso * The Good, The Bad & The Billy | 2 | 3 by @babyprincessharrington * No One But You by @waiting4inspiration * Dark Horse by @greatlampfestival * Respect And Responsibility by @andormeddows * Baby Do You Want To Come Home With Me? by @hellfirewhores * The Biggest Asshole in Indiana by @stever-things * Ready For Forever by @harcove 

Jonathan Byers

* I Wish I Was Her by @lightininglydia * Drunken Regret by @eddiemunsons-girl * Jealousy, Jealousy by @lizzie-boo * Miss You by @iovesteveharrington * Inside A Photography by @inviswounds * Back To The Old House by @nancys4gf * Breath Of Fresh Air by @supervoldejaygent * Seven Minutes In Heaven by @brighteyedbushybrowed * Camping by @proudharrington * Teenage Dirtbag  * Late Night Calls * Be My Mistake by @steddiehickeys​​

Mixed Masterlist 

* Summer Write-a-thon by @greetings-and-salutations * Steve/Eddie One-Shots by @upsidedownwithsteve * Billy/Steve One-Shots by @darling-i-read-it * Billy/Eddie/Jonathan Series/One Shots by @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ * Hanahaki Disease Series by @xoxoavenger​​​

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #billy hargrove x reader #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #billy hargrove angst #steve harrington #eddie munson #billy hargrove #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #billy hargrove x you #jonathan byers x reader #eddie munson fic #steve harrington series #eddie munson series #billy hargrove series #eddie munson fluff #billy hargrove fic #jonathan byers fic #jonathan byers

[sebstan2020]

Repaying the Debt

Chapter 1

Violet Williams, a typical rich daddy's girl who did nothing but spend his money and hang our with her girlfriends. Her life couldn't be better. But that all changes when her father gets in trouble with New Yorks biggest and most ruthless mob boss, James Barnes and she finds herself repaying the debt of her father.

Violet sighed heavily, dropping her keys in the small bowl at the front of the house and ripping off her coat. It was a freezing cold night; the winter evenings are now coming into full term, and she made a mental note to put on a scarf and hat tomorrow. Although she drove tonight, the short walk to her car easily froze her face. The warmth of the house ate her up quickly, as she shredded her heels and went straight to the kitchen. She was dying of thirst due to the white wine drying out her mouth. The icy water ran from the fridge, filling up her glass, and she gulped it down, biting through the sensitivity on her teeth, which sent a shiver through her body.

She had just come back from dinner with the girls. Eating at one of New York's top restaurants, the cheapest thing on the menu was the bread and olives, which cost $20. She was dressed in a beautiful cream dress paired with clear heels, showing off her beautifully manicured French toes that matched her fingernails and her silky smooth and glowy skin, along with her long trench coat and Michael Kors bag. Her long blonde hair was blown out to perfection, her bangs rolled forward, framing her face, and her lips were glossy with the Dior lip gloss she kept in her purse. She was a typical rich girl, throwing money wherever she wanted. Thanks to her father, she’d probably never have to work again. Her father gave her whatever money she wanted to spend on whatever she liked. You could say she was a spoiled little brat, but her friends were just the same.

She took a deep breath, placing the glass down on the counter, and silence filled the kitchen. Only then did she hear the voice of her father, coming from the living room. It was more hushed than normal, as if he were on the phone with someone. It is most likely a business call. Her father was a busy man. Being a congressman for the New York district, John Williams was constantly on calls, meetings, and business trips; it often felt like Violet rarely got to see him. They rarely got to spend time together with him being at work all day. But he was all she had. Her brother had moved to Canada with his wife, leaving the two of them back home. You’d think that at the age she was and the money she had, she'd move out. But she was the only person he had left, and being the daughter of a high government official came with the possibility of getting hurt by people who didn't agree with John. There were some pretty weird people out there. She was unfortunate to lose her mother at the tender age of 10. A gun shot. She was driving home late one night, and a couple of thugs pulled her over, attempting to steal her purse and any other goods in the car. It ended in blood and tears. The funeral was the hardest thing for Violet. There were so many people there that she didn’t know, and all she wanted was her mom back.

Her father vowed to keep his children safe and ensure that something like this never happened again. The other congressmen were kind enough to attend the funeral, offering their support and kindness, which John greatly appreciated. But as Violet grew up, she found her father becoming more distant from work, constantly on a call or meeting, sinking himself in deeper every day to distract himself from the thought of losing his wife, his best friend.

As Violet padded over to the living room, she could hear more of his hushed voice and pacing, his shoes scuffing on the carpet as if he wasn’t picking up his feet enough. He must be stressed.

"Yeah, I know, I know,” he whispered harshly, and Violet peaked around the corner. Normally, he wasn’t this cold on the phone to his fellow congressman’s. Perhaps it was a personal call.

"No, I will get it, I promise,” he grumbled, pacing back and forth.

"Look, just give me some more time; I can get it to you by Friday,” he assured, and Violet furrowed her brows.

"No, please, look, let me see what I can do,” he pleaded almost.

"Thanks,” he sighed, and aggressively hung up the phone, throwing it to the sofa and sighing heavily, rubbing his face. Violet took a second to step out, not wanting it to look like she was overhearing.

“Hey daddy,” she said softly, and he turned, smiling as he met eyes with his daughter. She was the spitting image of her mother, with long blonde hair, bangs that framed her face, sparkling blue eyes with a hint of green, and perfect lips and cheek bones. Anytime John looked at her, she reminded him of his.

“Hi sweetheart, I didn’t hear you come in,” he sighed with a forced smile.

“Everything okay?” She asked, and he nodded. His shirt was ruffled, and the tie was hanging loosely around his neck. The collar was turned up, and the buttons were opened. The sweat was dripping down his face, like he was nervous.

“Yeah, just a work call; you know how things get,” he said simply, and Violet wasn’t too sure to believe him or not. But she rarely got involved in his work. The government was a complicated subject, one she didn’t quite understand despite her father telling her about it so many times. The number of people in that one building was hard to keep track of by itself, as was the amount of legislation and bills being passed every day.

“Oh well, I hope it all is okay,” she said sweetly, crashing down on the sofa, and her dad sighed, placing his hands on his hips and nodding.

“Me too… How was your dinner?” he asked. 

“It was lovely; the girls and I had a good catch-up. I think I'm going to go run a bath and relax now," she said, pushing herself off the sofa to make her way upstairs.

"Alright, sweetheart," he said, but he wasn't with it. He looked to the floor nervously, sweat adorning his face.

"Are you sure you're okay, dad?" She asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, its nothing to worry about," he shrugged and quickly passed her, making his way to the kitchen. Violet furrowed her brows and wanted to chase after him, but it was clear he didn't want to talk right now.

Heading up the large stariscase, which curled around and led to a long hallway with many rooms—five bedrooms and a bathroom, to be exact—Violet made her way into her bedroom and immediately into the en-suit. Every bedroom had its own bathroom plus an extra one. The house was magnificent, with a huge living room and kitchen, a garden that reached around ten acres of land, a swimming pool and hot tub, an office, and a library. Of course, the house was given to them by the government, and they didn't have to pay a penny. There was no way she was leaving this all behind.

Violet ran the bath, filling it with steaming hot water, and dunked herself in, relaxing instantly. The sweet aromas from the bath salts sent her into a daze as the hot water relaxed her muscles. She dipped her head back, the hot water encasing her in a blanket of warmth. Her mind had completely forgotten about her dad and the mystery call he was on.

padding back into the bedroom dressed in her white fluffy robe, she dried her hair and applied some skincare to her face before jumping into the king-sized bed and pulling out her laptop. A little shopping was in order after an exhausting day of errands and chatting with her girlfriends. As if she needed anything more. Her walk-in wardrobe was practically full; her draws of endless makeup were overflowing, and she was losing space to put her shoes up. But she just couldn't help herself. She was a girl who liked to treat herself.

Anyone else would call her a selfish brat who enjoyed showing off how rich she was. She wasn't even earning the money; it all came from her father. But in her eyes, she didn't see that. You could say she was a bit of a clueless girl, with no awareness around her, like a fairy in a make-believe world. With her pretty looks and sweet voice, she could get anything she wanted. She enjoyed spending money, hanging with her girls, and doing anything but work. But that was soon going to change.

The streets of Manhattan were busy this morning, and Violet strutted down the street, her phone glued to her ear and a bag hanging from her elbow. She was the only one wearing a pair of sunglasses in the winter—the ones that cost her over $300. She was like a needle in a haystack, standing out from the crowd of grumbling New Yorkers, dressed in puffer jackets and long trench coats, all black and grey, and her dressed in white.

"Yes, I'll meet you at the manor at seven," she said into the phone, chatting with her friend Michelle.

"I have so much to tell you tonight," Michelle bragged on the other end, and Violet grinned, practically squealing at the thought of them gossping.

"I can't wait, ahh." She was suddenly cut off from her conversation when something tall and heavy bumped straight into her, knocking her off her balance, and she crashed into the wall next to her. It was clearly a man, and she glared up with a scoff. The man was quick to barge past, keeping his head down. The only thing she had on him was his long black coat, a pair of dress trousers, and dress shoes, but she didn't catch his face. He didn't even bother to say sorry. But in this city, it was a common thing, and she didn't think much of it.

The sound of Michelle calling her name could be heard through the phone, and Violet sighed, placing it back in her ear and heading down the street. "Sorry, someone bumped into me."

That evening, Violet got herself ready for drinks. They were going to a cute cocktail bar where the cocktails alone were $30. She was in need of good gossip with Michelle, another rich and pretty girl with a high-earning father. She dressed in a black dress, reaching just above her knees, with black high-heeled boots. Her pants were pushed up, showing off her slim figure, and she curled her hair, the blonde strands cascading down her back. A light layer of makeup and a spritz of Chanel perfume, and she was ready to hit the town. Pairing her dress with her long black fur coat, she carefully made her way downstairs and looked for her father.

He was in the living room, typing furiously on his keyboard, and a bottle of Scotch was beside him. His shirt was undone once again, and the tie and jacket were flung on the back of the plush chair he was sitting in.

"I'm going out now, dad; I'll be back around ten," she shrugged, and he looked up from his screen.

"Alright, sweetheart, be careful," he warned, and she smiled.

"I will," she said in a sing-song voice. He was so protective of her that if anything happened to her, it would kill him.

The night was freezing. The trees were already starting to get a frost on them, and the path was getting icy. She took her time walking to the bar, careful not to slip over. She wished she had driven, or at least asked her dad to drop her off, but she knew if she drove, she could only have one, or not even that. The drinks here in New York were strong, and it didn't take her long to get drunk. a couple down that hatch, and she would feel the buzz.

The neighbourhood to get to the manor was quiet, and there was barely anyone around. It was unusual to see a New York street so quiet, but that's exactly where they were. The peace and quiet meant there weren't many neighbours, and even the ones that were around kept to themselves. a classic rich people's street, you could say.

As she turned the corner, she noticed a car up ahead, parked on the path. Two tall men stood by it, dressed in long black coats. Her heels clicked on the concrete floor, grabbing the men's attention, and one of them turned, noticing her presence. Violet tried to keep her head down, but the man had already jumped in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. She was hoping she wouldn't get stopped by them, but that hope had gone out the window.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me. We're trying to get to Brooklyn, but I think we took the wrong turn, and we're a bit lost. I was wondering if you could help us." he smiled. It was hard to make out his features, but from what she could see, he had dark hair that was slightly on the longish side, brushed back behind his ears. a muzzle of a beard around his jaw and soft, perky lips. He had a dazzling smile with perfectly straight white teeth. There was a rich scent of colonge that was overpowering, and his voice was smooth and sexy.

"Oh, um... sure," she shrugged. She didn't want to be rude and walk away without at least trying to help them, and he guided her over to the car, where on top of the hood was a large map.

"We're from out of town, you see?" he chuckled softly. Violet hugged her bag closely to her, a sudden fear that perhaps these guys were looking for a chance to mug her. She stood by the car, staring down at the map, but, in total honesty, she had no idea what she was looking at.

"Um, well," she glanced at the map, but it wasn't making any sense to her.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not that good with directions. If you have maps on your phone, though, you can get to Broolyn that way," she pointed out, and the man chuckled. It was a pretty obvious answer, which anyone could come up with.

"You see, we are trying to get to Brooklyn, Bushwick; we have an important meeting there that we can't be late for," the man explained.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure; you're asking the wrong person here." She shrugged, hoping she could step away and get away from these two strangers.

"Alright, well, thank you for your help, Violet," he said, and she froze, looking up with wide eyes and parted lips. Surely he didn't just say her name. How could he know? She didn't even introduce herself.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" She nervously laughed.

"I said thank you, Violet." He turned to her, staring down at her with a soft smile on his lips. Violet hugged her bag closer, pressing her legs firmly together.

"How do you know my name?" She asked nervously, her voice cracking a little. She was starting to think she shouldn't have stopped and helped them. She was wishing she had just kept on walking and ignored them. She was hoping this was some crazy dream and she'd wake up with none of it being real.

"Everyone knows your name; your father is Congressman John William's, isn't he?" The man turned to face her, leaning on the car as he stared down. Violet was in shock, and she swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. It wasn't uncommon for people to know who she was because of her father, but the coincidence of having bumped into these two random strangers and him instantly knowing who she was was a little too scary for her. She knew this was dangerous and had to escape this encounter.

"I was hoping you'd be able to help me tonight," he tutted, his voice slightly lower. Violet took another deep breath and mustered all the courage she could.

"Unfortunatly, I can't help you with your directions; you'll have to find someone else. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be." She turned on her heel to walk away, but the other tall man stood in front of her, blocking her escape. He had shorter hair than the first man, slightly on the blonder side, and a heavier beard. Violet swallowed, her heart thumping inside her chest, her stomach turning into a tight ball of nerves, and she stepped back out of intimidation.

She turned her head over her shoulder, staring up at the man behind her, fear in her eyes as he took a step closer, closing her in, his hand resting on the top of the car. A glint from the street lamp showed off a bright, shiny ring on his thumb. She shuddered, and then everything happened so quickly.

A slam into the car door, a yelp from her lungs, her bag thrown to the floor. the rattle of cuffs and clicks locking them. a muffled yelp from the piece of fabric tied tightly around her mouth and the whimper of being thrown in the trunk. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and her ankles were cuffed as well. The man stood tall, his head slightly tilted up as he herested his hand on the edge of the boot door.

"If I were you, I'd get comfortable; it's going to be a long ride," he said with order in his tone, his eyes lazily on her. Violet clamped her teeth down on the tight frabic cutting into her mouth, and the clack of the cuffs could be heard as she fought against them even though there was no escape. The second man appeared next to him, rolling up what looked like a black hood and quickly yanking it over her head, pulling her into darkness. The last thing she heard was the slam of the boot door and the sound of her own cries.

Chapter 2

Hey I hope you like the first chapter of my new story, let me know in the comments what you think and also if you want to be tagged.

@charmed-asylum

@pattiemac1

@thischubbydumpling

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@kandis-mom

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes smut #mafia bucky barnes #mob boss bucky barnes #dom bucky barnes

[laylawatermelon]

The K-Drama Of It All

Hello! My hyper fixation has (very unhealthily) latched onto this show so I'm gonna be analyzing.

First of all, I am a veteran in these spaces.

Very shy in real life I am an avid observer in all my fandoms but TRUST I know what's up at all times because of it.

This first analysis will be of the phenomenon of how they playing in my face with the classic K-Drama tropes and cinematic choices.

Let us begin.

Now we all agree that The Bear is a cinematic masterpiece right? Right.

I have been consuming media across all mediums since I was a kid.

I quite literally spent most of my life watching behind the scenes, in front of the scenes, and in between the scenes.

I'm also an aspiring filmmaker and screenwriter. As such I analyze stuff I like more.

I try to understand why they are the way they are.

Now that we got all the fluff out of the way let's get down to the nitty gritty.

*stands on soapbox*

Page 1 of 10000 ehem

In this this essay I will -!

Fr tho. Let's look at this from a K-Drama perspective.

I've spent about 10-12/13 years watching them. And luckily got into it during the golden era.

I literally watched She Was Pretty air (among others). Ex, Strong Woman, Descendants of the Sun (never watched; controversy+ bad attention span), School 2013.

So you know I'm (somewhat) of an og.

I'm those shows it's very formulaic.

This can extend to other Asian dramas but I'm going to try to stick to K-Dramas.

For example, the 10 ep rule. Must have a kiss or kiss in that episode. (Before is fine)

Now they're getting a little willy nilly and getting down in the first EP but I can argue they was down bad back then as well. Just more angsty longing looks.

(which tbf Sydcarm does all the time but it's 99% Carm though)

In KDramas there's something common in the cinematography that I'd call the halo of light. Almost all the time there are some form of beauty shots with them beautifully lit where they're together, the way they look at each other etc.

Which ironically they do with these two a lot on the show.

I know the show is gorgeous but you can't just explain away some of the choices.

I have watched and read a lot of discussions so this will be influenced by a lot of people. I will mention when I got the help from (if i can find it).

Now I just want to say I think this.

These following trope have been here since the dawn of K-Drama time.

Enjoy my infodump.

Firstly let's discuss this here:

1. The Meet Cute/Halo Effect

We've all been screaming to the void about the classic meet cute that happens with Carmy's life and him being constantly bombarded with noise and chaos.

Stylistically this wouldn't be a typical formula for K-Dramas as it leans more into Kmovie style (which valid The Bear was originally a movie) I think it's as textbook as it comes.

Now the original script (which I have read) had a story of different tone. Very Chicago and chaotic but still...

In this iteration of the script idk what the actors were on but JAW looked at the script and chemistry test and was like hmm yes.

A dramatic romcom. I see.

For her she's an ambitious woman who has (maybe a tiny crush) admiration for him cause like he's literally who she wants to be.

Young, talented and successful. He's made a name in their industry so of course she wants to work under him.

But he he's playing the male lead in an early K-Drama with the classic *she enters* and it's like the second coming out Christ being lit from behind her.

The classic 'I can't believe I never noticed how beautiful she is' in all dramas (and romcoms honestly).

You can also compare it to the corny slightly funny moments in slow motion when they miss each other/do the angsty look.

Like this.

Good old kdrama tropes.

What's interesting is that in their scene they do the opposite of what a K-Drama would usually do. They cut the music and let it become calm.

You get to breathe and relax and so does he. He feels at peace.

In K-Dramas, osts are a kind of a life line so they would most likely blare it when he has that realization.

And then at every other romantic moment after.

Another way that it could be is by using very like calm music (still the ost but still).

They do use this with having mostly romantic music in their scenes but it's usually quiet and a bit hard to hear or understand (unless you're analyzing like many of the wonderful people on this app).

Now you can argue her warm lighting in each scene from the finale and introduction represents his hope/life/good change being given back to him in the form of her (but if that's not the most romantic thing I ever heard).

Now for the flashback in the panic attack scene you could argue the blue tone he sees her in, as it usually represents some kind of sadness/distance/professionalism in this show, it can also represent his piercing blue eyes remembering her in the only shade they know how.

Good God that color grading is nuts. His eyes *ARE* the color Blue.

Now I want to talk a bit more about shot composition, color grading and color choices.

In a few interviews I've seen and read the editors, directors and others were quite serious about the shots and music they used were very much on purpose.

I mean come on.

Also Announcement from a novel/screenwriter:

EHEM

WE DON'T EVER INCLUDE NOTHING THAT CAN BE MISINTERPRETED IN SCRIPTS!

AND THE DIRECTOR WOULD DEFINITELY CUT IT IF IT WASN'T HOW HE ENVISIONED IT!

(/hj)

The most telling scenes is the beginning of omlette and the end of the episode before it.

The director had chose to show her tattoo that represents loss in a deep blue lighting which was actually in a similar lighting that Carmy and Claire were bathed in afterwards.

The quora search says it means pain, heartbreak, and emotional turmoil.

It also lines up with the rest of the shots with him preparing dinner with Claire and her being alone.

I believe this kind of represents the emotional cheating (?) going on between them as he practically abandoned her (and their child, The Bear).

(which is a wild choice for platonic coworkers)

As I've said before blue lighting is usually representative of sadness, coldness etc.

In the scene personally even without connecting it to shipping or everything the message came clear to me.

Suffocation.

He was quite literally being suffocated as in the last scene her body was on his as he stared in the distance blankly.

Honestly that shot was kind of heartbreaking because it feels like coercion in a warped way.

He feels like he should be happy, he should participate in these acts, he should be doing well.

He's fulfilling his family's wish.

So why isn't he happy?

That's my writer kicking in but that's what I got from it.

🥲 (gimme a sec i gotta cry)

But the same blue tone was used in his panic attack as the camera zoomed in.

Now the ironic part was that they used warm lighting for the scenes with Claire, but it's not that unusual.

Warm lighting has always been used to also represent a time period in the past in addition to good/warm times.

What's ironic is what's literally colored in what should represent good times isn't working.

He's remembering his family in those same tones. The past isn't helping.

But the future does.

Enter Sydney in blue.

Now blue usually represents sadness (or calm) but it's also used in futuristic scenes.

*They benefit from the cold clinical look i guess🤷🏾‍♀️*

Then he becomes calm.

I can also say that their kitchen scenes in early season 2 are blue coded but it has a calm feeling not a distant feeling. It ironically feel warm and calming despite the cool tone.

This appears in a couple other scenes in the show when he's showing her the work done in the early season.

But color wise it's usually warm tones with them as the color kind of transitions in that scene. It's half half.

His view is warm because he thinks she's good with what he did and hers is cold because he ditched her so yeah.

Now shot wise let's discuss because it's a bit obvious.

The staff head mentioned loving close ups to show the characters emotion but also to convey a sense of what's not being said.

An example of his uncertainty with Claire is the car scene. In most of his shots it's extremely close to her and gives off an awkward vibe.

But when you go to her perspective, she's more open and his shots show background and more of his character, also reflecting their relationship with each other,

This persists with the kitchen scene as well.

When I rewatch it it has that same quality. It's a bit more pulled out (obviously as they literally spent the night together so anyone would feel closer) but there's still an awkward/dreamlike feel like when its on her like she's not quite based in reality.

Or in Carmy's self sabotaging view, too good to be true.

In comparison to Sydney, the shots with her are almost always wide and open.

We see it with them as early in season one with the outside scene where he's staring her down and gets her to open up.

You can argue that almost all of their shots are as equals, or in the same frame with an openness that have/represents when they're communicating with each other. (I'm def writing about their communication)

Sydney's character is ironically what a male lead would be like and Carmy would be more of the female archetype.

Which I really appreciate now that I think about it.

The male lead is usually very successful/good at what they do, hesitant to share but when they do you feel it and know it's sincere. They're usually more bumbly with expressing when they're emotional but when they do its like a huge release. And when they love it's very obvious and excessive at times.

In comparison, Carmy is very expressive, sensitive and aware. He's devoted (Claire sorry but you don't quite count) to things he's passionate about, willing to communicate and has traits of sensitivity.

His eyes and body tells what he's feeling almost immediately. (Also JAW is just an incredible actor)

In Kdrama land their roles would be switched. Hell I can argue some American dramas as well.

Back on topic though.

The Halo Effect is there. Like all the time.

To my next point-

2. The She Looks Away, I Look At Her

Now you may argue this is very Disney Rapunzel, all that coded.

You will also be correct.

I am a Disney (more Nick honestly) kid.

This too applies to the K-Drama world nay I would say it originated there (it did not).

Do you know how many shows I can name where the male lead is just hopelessly in awe as he stared at the female lead because she just insulted him and he wants to tell her he loves her in every way.

Ring ring.

I heard The Bear calling. Yeah imma need you to clock out on this gaslighting.

time to fangirl

Look at the gif sets!

But honestly, it's a common way to show that the character cares and wants a person without outright saying it.

You understand the vibes almost instantly.

He likes her. He wants more.

She likes him. She wants more.

3. Matching Clothes

This one is a simple one but we all know how common it is in K-Dramas to have a matching something.

A good example of a recent show is Extraordinary Attorney Woo, and how they almost always matched even if he was in casual clothing and she was in office clothes.

You're supposed to get a telepathy feel from them. Like they're on the same wavelength.

In ships/shows they usually subconsciously brainwash you into details of a relationship by having them wear or have something that reminds you of them.

In wardrobe, clothing is meticulously planned to match characters financial situation and express their personality. The clothes tell the story.

And the story usually is we go together. Real bad.

So yeah, sure in this scene/episode they were more in tune and tandem and as time went on they became more disjointed.

Granted they do work in a place with uniforms but I digress.

And lastly my third point part II-

Same But Different

If this were a kdrama there'd be like 0.00% chance that they WOULDN'T happen.

First they're the main leads so duh, and second the way that they parallel each other is insane.

There are many edits and examples of them directly mirroring each other in certain situations.

Scrubbing the floors when feeling lonely seemingly in the exact same spot, stressing in the freezer, saying stuff at the same time and their weird telepathy and answering each other's - sandwiches (that's what I was gonna say).

(sorry)

And if any of you say work wife I will rage cause let me catch my man laying under a table like that!!!

Sparta!

But for real, yes there's intimacy and friendship and all that but I ain't everr look at my friends of either gender like that.

If did I probably had feelings and just kept em in. And did the Carmy puppy eyes (TM).

And yes we are aware Carmy is emotionally constipated like a coke bottle filled with mentos with a tight cap on and his lack of a social life coupled with his (many) different mental illnesses/difficulties.

So he probably doesn't even recognize or even want to recognize them as such and honestly as a 4 lifer

I'm really sad but I don't think he'll confess in the next season.

I'm making a post about it but I'm also uncertain about it lasting more than three seasons as thematically and the way it was intended to be a movie I feel kind of uncertain.

It can extend to 4 but it was intended and the way it's narratively been flowing its exactly like a 3 act structure just spread out (like butter).

The next season is after the dark of night aka main character loses everything.

This season was fun and games - quite literally him having amusement and such. (Training Arc!!) It ended with his demise I'd say.

Now there's no where to go but up.

I'm not saying that it's impossible, but a 4th season would likely be more aimed toward getting a star or maintaining a star etc and family ties and such.

That'd be most likely when, if any, outwardly romantic contact should happen.

But they might surprise me.

Butt honestly in KDrama land there's no way the set up isn't romantic even if it was just a chef or professional focused show.

I'd say it'd be standard honestly for ones focused on career with a dash of romance.

Ex. Miss Hammurabi (best example)

The Good Doctor (Japanese Version)

There's probably more but I exclusively watch romance so 🤷🏾‍♀️.

In Conclusion,

Yes. They are end game.

I also wanna say how odd it is that this ship is attacked by fans of the show and non fans alike because I've literally grew up in the age of Rise of The Brave Tangled Guardians.

There's nothing more random than that time period.

They all dated each other!

Like my guy there's a Tony the Tiger x Grinch fic and don't even get me started on the Onceler selfcest as different flavors of himself (/j i love stuff like this)!

My point is it's not that unusual for the two leads to be shipped. Same gender or not.

I also have years of teenage brain rot developed from eating movies for breakfast so I know more than you! (/hj) I'm obviously right!

I will be discussing some more of this in length at a later date.

But I rest my case.

I will retreat into my cave until next time.

#sydcarmy #syd x carmy #carmy x sydney #long post #ranting #shipping #the bear #media analysis #tv analysis #kdrama #meta #the bear meta #sydney x carmy #the bear is a love story #syd x carmen #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #the bear analysis #i am a fangirl #you will hear from me #pls be nice #i have an agenda #and that is romance! #gifs #like a lot of gifs

[angorith-arts]

The Hidden World Was Aesthetically Disconnected from the Other HTTYD Films: an essay no one asked for

Ok ok I know this is an art blog and I’m going off the rails a bit with this but I think it must be said: HTTYD The Hidden World was not animated in the same style as the other two films, and it has bothered me for a long time. We have all talked at length about the slow but significant dog-ification of Toothless that accompanied his dying character and personality (rip wild catlike Toothless), but I want to discuss the aesthetics of the films as a whole, discounting most changes to character designs themselves (except for one at the end because the light fury is to blame for all of this actually).

But angorith, you may very well ask, how can you say the animation is worse than the previous films when we got such breathtaking scenery as the hidden world and New Berk? To that I reply, the animation isn’t worse, its just not fitting in with the rest of the films.

Let’s take, for example, the first film. The animation style was thoroughly textured and gritty (partially due to technical limitations of CGI in the early 2000s but the animators leaned into it and I think it worked in their benefit due to the fact that they were animating gritty things like dragons and Vikings), creating a stylized but believable world of outdoorsy people and wild dragons. The dragons, specifically, were beautifully and realistically textured, with rough, detailed scales that made them feel believable despite being stylized in the manner of the film. The fur textures on the characters’ clothes were rough, resembling the fur that remains on tanned hides. The wood grain is old and worn, the weapons have nicks and scratches; you can tell the animators worked hard to make everything seem realistic despite technical drawbacks. And that’s not even to mention the beauty and depth in the outdoor scenery.

The second movie continues this trend. You can tell that the textures are more lifelike and that the animation has improved- especially when looking at the hair textures and fluid character movements- but it’s still textured and not over-polished. They aren’t afraid to show wear on objects or characters, they don’t shy away from giving Stoik, Gobber, and Valka age lines, they showcase the effects of riding on the leather equipment, the scars on the human and dragon characters are clearly visible without being too in-your-face, its a stunning and beautifully made piece of animation. But, in my opinion, most importantly, the characters are distinct from their backgrounds. This is seen in both of the first two films, where the distance between characters in the foreground and the scenery in the background is distinct. When silhouetted against the sky, the characters stand out from it instead of fading in to look flat and airbrushed against the scenery. This is largely due to the lighting and shadows being strictly defined throughout the movie. It allows for distinct shapes and clear definitions of character features. I’m no expert and may be speaking a bit from nostalgia, but I think the second film has the best animation of all three.

The Hidden World breaks this mold in a way that I found detrimental to the overall style of the film. Characters like Valka, who were once so convincingly animated to look their age, look fifteen years younger and airbrushed into smooth lines. Hiccup’s freckles are less prominent despite his outdoor lifestyle, and overall, despite the beauty of the scenery and the artful composition of many of the shots, the characters don’t have as much weight to them. The beautiful backgrounds in this movie seem like they’re swallowing the characters whole instead of remaining in the background, and I attribute this to what I call ‘the airbrushing effect.’ The shadows on the characters themselves and the boundaries between characters and backgrounds in this film are blurred, which takes away that depth that was so present in the first two movies. It looks like the characters are smushed into the background at times, leaving blurred expressions and less-defined features and boundaries. This isn’t the case in every scene, but it is in many of them, and it has bothered me since I first saw the film in theaters. Some of the textures look amazing, like the armor and dragon scales, but then you look at a character’s face and they look all fuzzy and indistinct, like they’re wearing makeup and dissolving around the edges. THW follows the growing trend of overly-blended animation, which isn’t necessarily bad in and of itself, but when an aesthetic precedent is set for your movies and then the third installment breaks the established rules, it can make that film fit in poorly with the rest of the franchise in a visual manner (not to mention the story incongruities but that’s a talk for another day).

Here are some examples:

In the second film, the boundary between Astrid and the background is distinct, despite her being farther away. Her face shape is more well defined, less round and fuzzy looking. Look at the boundaries around her face and head in the third film. There’s stil a foreground and background, but she looks like she’s blended a little too much into the background. Stormfly’s horns on the left are more jagged-looking, mimicking the texture of a realistic antler or horn, while on the right they’re smoother despite being in closer view.

Similar shots from 2 and THW here, see how much more defined the lines are between hiccup and the background on the left? Even just the features of his face are less clear; the bridge of his nose looks flattened.

Similar lighting from HTTYD 1and THW. The definition here is a bit better, but look at the skin textures. Hiccup looks like he’s wearing foundation in THW. For comparison, look at him from HTTYD 1! He’s got freckles! Don’t take away his freckles!!

Moving back to Berk means Valka must have gotten ahold of some de-aging cream, right?

I can’t add any more photos but hopefully y’all get the idea.

Now the reasons behind this stylistic change surprised me, and then really pissed me off. Its’s this thing’s fault:

I read an article a while back that said that in order for the crew to be able to animate the light fury, they had to devise new animation software for the third film (if anyone can find the article that would be a huge help, I can’t remember where I found it). She simply didn’t work in the established program, so they had to create a different software to accommodate the lighting effects of her sparkles and whatnot. Since the lighting seems to be one of the things that bother me most in this movie, this causes me some (slightly irrational) frustration, and brings me back to the question of why?

Why would you integrate a character whose design is so off-base from the other characters that you had to make new software just to make it work, to the detriment of the entire look of the movie? Wouldn’t that be one of the most clear signs that the character itself does. Not. Fit. The aesthetic of the film? this pisses me off so much. I know I’m irrationally angry about a movie that came out years ago, but from a visual, storytelling, and personal standpoint, I hate the way this turned out.

I’m not saying I hate the the third movie, or that if you like it you’re wrong. There’s so much about the film that I liked, but all the positives are outweighed by my disappointment.

TL;DR: the way that the crew made the light fury not only ruined the storytelling and conclusion to the franchise, but messed with the animation style too, which to me is an unforgivable sin.

Thank you for coming to my bitchy TedTalk

#httyd #httyd 2 #httyd the hidden world #thw salt #thw criticism #light fury #httyd thw #toothless #hiccup httyd

[boywifesammy]

i just reached swan song in my rewatch.

if spn ended here… i’d be happy. more than. it’s a beautiful and bittersweet closure to a heart ache of a show. it wraps everything up beautifully. it takes sam, who viewed himself as a monster all his life, who was constantly labelled by everyone around him as a powerless junkie, and it lets him take over. hell, even SAM said himself that he views himself as less than everyone else. he knows his weaknesses and his failures yet he still said yes. he still fought. and in the end, it was his HUMANITY that brought him back. it was dean and the small memories of happiness that he holds so tight. sam just learnt that his entire LIFE was a lie orchestrated by azazel— but who he is? his family? dean? that’s all his. so in that last moment, by having sam regain control, it’s really the ultimate statement of humanity. he is not a monster. he is so very human that he fought the devil and won. isn’t that amazing??

also… dean in the aftermath. even though he lived through the apocalypse and lost his whole fucking world in one fell swoop, he kept his promise. he did what sam asked of him. he shed the cyclic revenge-fury-anger fate that his father instilled in him and he broke free. he let go, despite how much it broke him inside. every time i think about it, it makes my entire body ache. the sheer amount of grief and emotion that dean must harbour is unfathomable. the pressure he is under is impossibly crushing. but he keeps going on. he lives. he does it one day at a time, and he does it in his brother’s memory.

there is just something so fucking heartbreaking about that, about dean who will never fill the hole in his chest, who will never stop missing sam and seeing him in his dreams and wondering what if but who CHOSES to live. who choses to build up from ground fucking zero and make something of the life that sam fought for. to honour his last dying wish even if it killed him inside because he can finally acknowledge that he is more than sam’s keeper. he is his brother. he respects and trusts him, and he treats him like his own person. that speaks VOLUMES to dean’s character development, because never in my wildest dreams could i imagine a dean winchester who lets sam go BUT THIS DEAN DOES. this dean not only lets sam go but does so with pride and dignity and honour for who he was. that’s just mindblowing to me. s5 did such a PHENOMENAL job at wrapping up spn.

this isn’t to say that the latter seasons are all bad. it’s just that spn has traded so many hands throughout its life that the show that it ended as is virtually unrecognizable from the show it started as. that’s just a true fact. supernatural changed after seasons 1-5. it grew out into something new. i have a shit ton of love and respect for that in its own right— but og supernatural? kripke supernatural? the blood, grit, gore and gothic americana supernatural that i grew up on? in my mind, that ends with swan song. that supernatural is it’s own little story. everything after is an addendum, a sequel. the original story of sam and dean ends with that shot of dean with lisa and ben having dinner. the story ends with sam sacrificing himself for the world and proving without a doubt that he is good and human along the way. it ends on a note of bittersweet hope and raw grief that bleeds all the way down to your core but soothes the wounds in the aftermath, because no matter how much it hurts, it’s closure. for sam, and for dean.

#oc #supernatural #spn #spn meta #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn 2x22 #swan song #AND ALSO?? that reel of their moments overlaid with the howling wind #the simplicity of the whole bit with chuck and the impala #chuck dissolving into a mist at the end #i HATE this show i HATE it i want to eat it i need to be put down like a rabid dog #i’m not a crier but holy FUCK this episode had me dangerously close #anyway #i’m gonna go scream at the wall now

[can-youimagine]

Season of Scandal (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Summary: There are few people you hate more in life than Benedict Bridgerton, unfortunately, it seems as though you'll have to get used to him

TW: Female reader, period typical misogyny, suggestive, enemies to lovers

Word Count: 2273

A/N: Let me know if you want a part 2!

Masterlist

Dearest Reader,

The start of a new season is always something to celebrate. Those of lower morals will be placing bets on who will marry whom. If this writer were a betting woman, she would wager that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton will end the season with yet another broken proposal, while Ms. (Y/N) (L/N) will finally take a caller. I have always bet on the long-shot, and Ms. (L/N) is no exception.

Yes, Reader, I can assure you that this season will indeed be something to watch. But, rest assured, I will be the first to inform you if you win or lose your wagers. 

~Lady Whistledown

“Oh, Benedict, have you seen the new Whistledown?” Eloise yells, bounding down the steps with the pamphlet in her hand.

“I take it you have,” he mumbles with an amused smile, “and I have no doubt you will tell me about it.”

Thrusting the paper in his face, she explains, “She wrote about you. It seems she, like the rest of us, believes that you will never be married.”

He shrugs. “It is not my fault Ms. Pierceton received a proposal from a man with a larger wallet.”

“How come when you have a marriage fall through, it is perfectly normal, but when it happens to me, I’m one step away from becoming a spinster!”

He half listens to her rant as he stares at his sketchbook. He hopes he appears rather unphased by the whole article, though that is far from the truth. He’s not bothered by being a bachelor. What he is bothered by is being mentioned in the same sentence as you, implying that he is just as unmarriable as you. His lack of marriage has nothing to do with his own faults, while yours is because you are so stuck up and overall unlikeable. He has had plenty of women wish to marry him. You have never had two dances with the same man.

You roll your eyes as you read the article. Of course, you would be deemed as unmarriable as that pompous fool. Every conversation you have attempted with the man has ended with a foot stomp and heel turn by one or both of you. 

Crumpling up the paper, you toss it as far from you as possible. Trying not to let the article affect you, you call your maid in to help you dress for the art show today. Your mother has not stopped talking about it, and Lord help you if you cause her to miss it just because you are upset about a gossip column. 

Your arm is linked with hers as you walk into the gallery. The building is full of people. Women try to spend enough of their husband’s money to prove their status, and artists are eager to help them. Your mother immediately spots a group of women she knows, leading both of you over to them. They drone on about the art and artists, as the topic changes to the upcoming social season, you excuse yourself to look at the art. There are very few things you would like to discuss less than the social season.

The building is open enough that you do not need a chaperone; your mother can see you from where she is, if she bothers to look for you. 

You focus on a painting of a building. The dark sky beautifully contrasts the warmness of the building. Light seems to pour out of it, drawing you in.

“You know,” the all too familiar voice of Benedict Bridgerton starts, “this is one of my favorites.”

The painting immediately turns sour for you. “I can’t imagine why.”

He smirks. “You must have a sixth sense.”

“What do you mean?”

He takes a step closer, almost too close to be appropriate, but not quite inappropriate. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. “You have never been able to compliment me, even when you do not know that I am the one who deserves it.”

“What are you saying, Mr. Bridgerton?”

“I am the artist of this painting.”

“No wonder it is so hideous,” you lie.

He chuckles. “Are you saying you have no interest in it?”

“I’m saying I have no interest in you or anything you create.” You move to leave, but it seems your mother has perfect timing and approaches the two of you before you have the chance.

“Oh, (Y/N), what a lovely painting! Don’t you agree, Mr. Bridgerton?”

He wears a stupidly smug grin as he answers, “Well, I would have to, Lady (L/N), I am quite familiar with the artist. I would say this is one of his best works.”

His grin only gets wider as your mother makes a deal to buy the painting and calls him “such a talented young man.” Your mother, like every other mother in the Ton had heard the news that Mr. Bridgerton was eligible for yet another season. She was not going to waste the opportunity to set you up with him. “I am so sorry to hear about your engagement, Mr. Bridgerton.”

He offers a strained laugh. “Thank you. Though, I imagine this might be a blessing in disguise.”

“Of course,” she agrees. “I’m sure you have a much better idea of what you want now. That is what (Y/N) says after turning down a proposal. She believes that each courtship has shown her what she would prefer. You would think by now someone would have met her standards,” she laughs.

He gives you a smirk before turning back to your mother. “That certainly is one way to look at it.”

She looks like she is going to embarrass you further, so you grab her arm, urging her home. She sighs. “I do hope you will be at Lady Danbury's ball tomorrow evening.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. “Take care Lady (L/N).” As he leaves, your mother turns to you, giving you a glare that tells you you will behave yourself at the ball, or you will most definitely face the wrath of God.

Benedict would rather be anywhere else than here. He contemplates taking the carriage back to his house, letting the others figure their own ways back as penance for bringing him here in the first place, but the whining he would hear from Eliose would not be worth it. 

Your dress is so tight that you feel as though you can barely breathe. Your mother insisted that you get a new one. After all, one cannot wear a dress to multiple balls. You have to admit, it is a lovely dress. It is so lovely, in fact, that Benedict Bridgerton himself glances in your direction. At the moment, it seems like more of a punishment than a reward. 

Benedict watches you as you walk in, taken aback by you. The dress looks remarkable on you, he thinks. Though, he placates the thought by assuring himself that the dress is so lovely that it would make a horse look like a princess. It only makes you look like a duchess.

As the night continues, you find yourself becoming more and more fatigued. You need a moment to yourself. What you really need is to get out of this dress, but you know you will be stuck in this particular cage until the end of the night. Managing to sneak away from your mother for a moment, you head into the garden. The cool air does wonders to distract you from your evening.

“Of course,” a voice groans. Of course, he is here. Where else would Benedict Bridgerton be than the last place you want him?

“I am not here for you,” you say, leaning against the side of the building. The dress is certainly taking its toll on you. You slide down, the rough exterior of the building creating tears in your dress.

He drones on about something, no doubt a quip about your improperness, but you can’t focus on him. 

“Ms. (L/N)?” he calls. You feel his arms around you, and you slump against him. “Ms. (L/N)?” You want to answer. You want to tell him to get off of you, but you don’t have the strength. His hand slides under your corset. You want to scream, but the relief is too good. He loosens the ties just enough to all you need to breathe again.

Leaning against Mr. Bridgerton, you start to catch your breath. His hand is still on your back, though now it is keeping your dress in place. “Ms. (L/N), are you alright?”

“I think so.” You look up at him. His eyes are not cold and cruel as they normally are when he looks at you. Instead, they’re filled with concern. Your heart swells with the knowledge that that concern is for you.

“I’m sorry,” he stammers out. “I didn’t mean to take-my sisters always complain they can’t breathe in their dresses. At her first ball, Francesca almost-and I didn’t want you to-”

You give him a soft smile. “Thank you. It’s just what I needed.”

“Are you okay? Can I?” He gestures vaguely at your dress.

“Please, just a little looser.”

Nodding, he gets to work. His fingers shake as he starts to relace your corset. He’s not sure what happened to him. No one wants to see someone pass out, but Benedict thinks, a normal person would have called your mother over to help you rather than undress you in public. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Dearest Reader,

Well, well, well. I know that you expect to hear all about the latest scandals from me, but it appears that not even I know what truly happened at the Danbry ball last night. It appears that there is a rumor of some rather improper conduct between some of our favorites. I dare not publish their names and cause more trouble than just this rumor will.

I promise you, Reader, that once we have more than a rumor, I will be the first to tell you all about it

~Lady Whistledown

Benedict’s heart beats through his chest. No one should have seen you, and if they had, surely they would have realized that nothing had happened.

“Oh, who do you think it is?” Eliose asks. “What do you think happened? Did you see anything?”

“Do you have nothing better to do?” he snaps.

She shrinks before leaving the room. If he weren’t so preoccupied, he would have apologized or at least felt bad. He knows what he has to do. He’s never hated being a gentleman more.

“(Y/N),” your mother calls. “You have a caller.”

You panic. You were stressed enough about the Whistledown article, and now you have to act like a person in front of someone you barely know as you try to figure out a way out of this. Walking down the stairs feels like a death march, and when you see who’s waiting for you.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you greet.

He smiles, uttering a quick an awkward greeting. It seems as if he knows what needs to be done and is just as much a fan of it as you are. He puts on a nice show, winning your mother over, who will no doubt tell your father all about the wonderful man who wants to marry you and how you seem more than excited for his proposal. You have to be. What choice do you have?

“Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Lady (L/N), Ms. (L/N),” Mr. Bridgerton says, “but I’m afraid I must be going.” 

“Oh, of course,” your mother gushes. “It was absolutely lovely to see you. I hope we will see you this weekend.” 

“Actually, I had hoped to invite you to the ball at Aubrey Hall,” he explains. “I know it is quite a journey, but I hope it will be well worth it.”

Your mother eagerly accepts, completely forgetting about the Waterson ball. The next week is a blur of dresses and visits from Mr. Bridgerton in preparation for the ball. Luckily, Lady Whistledown has not published another article about the Danbry ball. That doesn’t fill you with much comfort. If anyone says anything at the ball, you’ll be trapped with your shame. God, you wish the entire season could just be over.

When you get to Aubrey Hall, the place is so full of people that no one notices you and Benedict sneaking away.

“I’m sorry, about all of this,” he says as soon as the door closes. “My personal feelings about you aside, I would never want to tarnish your name, and I intend to make it right. You will end this season with a proposal.”

“I don’t want a proposal!” you exclaim. “I don’t want to marry you!”

Before he can compose himself, his face falls. He hadn’t really wanted to marry you. Why would he? But, if he didn’t want to marry you, why is he so upset? “I am doing this for you! I cannot be responsible for ruining you.”

“If you’re going to ruin me, then do it.” Your eyes are dark, jaw clenched. He doesn’t know what comes over him as he grabs your arm, pulling you into him.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Your voice grows soft. “Ruin me, Benedict.”

He swallows, cursing himself as he finds some composure. “I am going to ask you to marry me by the end of the week. I am going to marry you by the end of the season, and then, I am going to ruin you, before anyone else has the chance.”

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n

[wen-kexing-apologist]

You're My Sky

I just finished You're My Sky at the recommendation of both @bengiyo and @ginnymoonbeam and can I just say this was PHENOMENAL. Ben was very correct about the before and after I Told Sunset About You mode of storytelling, this came after both ITSAY and IPYTM and you can tell ITSAY was a heavy and direct influence on the method of storytelling, the cinematography, and certain themes that were a part of the show. (@waitmyturtles if you do not have You're My Sky on your OGMMTV list, you should add it because the ITSAY influences seriously ring loud and clear)

Suar Kritsanaphong is a goddamn revelation and I must have said "holy shit this man can act" no less than twenty times an episode, because it remained true, and NEED I REMIND EVERYONE THAT HE HAD BEEN IN EXACTLY ONE OTHER SHOW BEFORE STARRING AS A LEAD IN YOU'RE MY SKY.

Like, seriously, think about his performance in La Pluie, and understand this man is green. La Pluie is the 3rd television show he has been a part of. THAT"S IT. THIRD. Like Ohm Pawat, this man has absolutely no right to be this good this early in his career.

This is, dare I say, one of, if not the most beautifully colored show I have seen maybe ever. Like the entire show felt like it was shot on film, the show read so much like a memory in the way that it was colored, I don't know what I am explaining myself well and I do not know who the colorist was on this show but the one thing I do know is I owe them my life because those colors were saturated and gorgeous (let me be clear, none of these screencaps have been edited, these are just how they appear in the show themselves).

Like, seriously gorgeous

Like absolutely, unbelievably, incredibly, wonderfully GORGEOUS

If you haven't watched this, you should.

Personally, I have no complaints whatsoever with this show. I thought the pacing was good, the narrative compelling, the couples had great chemistry, and the cursed Episode 11 was painful to watch in all the best possible ways.

This show did two things that made me eternally grateful:

One: The show put Suar in this shirt (once again proving that he should always be dressed as a lesbian).

Two: It gave me this shot (aka my new pfp) so what complaints could I even possibly have?

It's a 10/10 for me

#you're my sky #suar kritsanaphong #suar's eyebrows deserve an oscar #tae chayapat #fah x thorn #thorn x fah #fahthorn #taesuar #suartae

[annabelle1901]

Lost Frank Castle x Karen Page fic

Hi! So I don't really interact with anyone on Tumblr but I don't really know what else to do, so here we go. I'm back on my Kastle bullshit <3 and I've been trying to find this old fan fiction on AO3 that I started reading years ago. Stopped reading after a certain point but had the tab open on my phone and I thought I'd continue reading eventually.. And then my phone got stolen, and I forgot the title & author name. Not great. I've dedicated the past few days to looking for it and so far I got nothing.

So what I'm gonna do is write down everything I remember like a mad woman in the hope that this jogs someones memory. Please help me this fic haunts me. ANY sort of reference or whatever could potentially help (Tumblr posts, links, screenshots, Google history, etc)

Fandom: Daredevil/ the Punisher obv

Pairing: Frank Castle/ Karen Page

Rating: probably explicit (canon typical violence and eventual smut)

Published: 2016-2017 (started post s2 Daredevil but pre The Punisher s1 because I don't remember any of the plot or characters from that show showing up) might have been deleted in 2020ish

Length: has to be +10 chapters (long chapters as well, don't know if it was finished)

Characters: Matt Murdock/ Daredevil, Foggy Nelson, Claire Temple, Elektra Natchios (I vividly remember them making some sort of appearance)

now let's get really unhinged...

Plot:

Pretty sure the story starts on Karen's birthday but her mood is meh.. She's on her way home or something, gets in her car and Shining Star starts playing which let's her know that Frank was recently there. Something else must have alarmed her because she goes looking for him and finds him in like an alley around her building. He's in really bad shape, bloody practically dying. She carries him to her apartment and either helps him herself or calls Claire Temple.*

*Don't think it was in this part of the story but she helps Frank and makes a joke about him not being healthy enough to be sleeping with Karen anytime soon which makes them blush. Don't think they were intimate yet but tensions were rising.

For the next couple of chapters I remember it was mainly beautifully written angst between them in this contained space while he's healing. Karen doesn't want Frank to get killed while being the Punisher, he resists her care and tries to hurt her by saying "You aren't Maria and could never be" or something.

I also vividly remember a scene where he's grieving and keeps like tugging on this necklace Karen has on while he cries in her arms. She leaves her necklace at his family's graves and the groundskeeper or something tells her not to do that because it'll get stolen but she knows that but does it anyway as a sign of respect.

They sort admit their feelings eventually but don't sleep together yet because they know they can't go back after that. For some reason Frank needs to leave the city for a little while to re-home a dog I believe he found while on a "mission" and the idea is that the time apart will help them decide whether or not they want to be together. They reunite on a sunny, lovely day in the city and go back to her apartment and lots of smut ensues. Daredevil shows up at midnight/ morning to get Frank. Something's going down he needs his help. It doesn't end well somehow Karen gets involved and they both go to the same hospital. Frank is in a coma and Karen visits him when she's allowed and urges him to live sort of mirroring when he first got shot in the head at the carousel. He wakes up but needs to go back to prison. Everything is really bad. The press somehow knows about their relationship as well. Last scene I remember is Karen and Foggy talking about all this and a newspaper printing a picture of Karen's legs with the caption Keys to the Castle? or something. Gross everything sucks and that's where I stopped reading.

So that's about all I can remember, feels like a fever dream. If anyone could help me out I'd really appreciate it. Thx!!

#Kastle #frank castle #karen page #the punisher #daredevil #nmcu #daredevil netflix #foggy nelson #claire temple #fanfic #lost fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #ao3feed #ao3 link #ao3 stuff #help #kastle ff #kastleedit #kastlenetwork #nelson murdock and page #fic finder

[princeescaluswords]

When Disappointment is Not Disappointing

This is about Obi-Wan Kenobi, Episode 3:

When I first watched the fight, I was disappointed. It was clumsy. Awkward. Beautifully shot, but the fight was nothing compared to other light saber fights, and Darth Vader clearly letting Obi-Wan get away.

And then I suddenly smacked myself with the Clue Bat. Of course. That was the point.

Obi-Wan Kenobi has not wielded a light saber for maybe ten years. Both he and it have sat decaying in the desert. He doesn't sleep well, he has a mindless menial job where he must let cruelty happen on a daily basis, so he can go home where his only social interaction is being cheated by Jawas and emotionally flagellating himself by fixating on a ten-year-old boy that he can't even talk to.

He had to be asking himself -- what the hell am I even doing here. I told Bail I couldn't do this. I told him!

And then there's Darth Vader. He starts out killing innocents because that will make Obi-Wan come to him. Only it doesn't. What the hell is that? Then he draws his light saber and Obi-Wan runs. What the hell is this? He tried to provoke his old master with bullshit "I am what you made me" and "You should have killed me when you had the chance" and Obi-Wan doesn't lecture him about the Force. He doesn't say a single word! And then when they fight, he does it one-handed, and every ounce of Hayden Christensen's body language screams disappointment. What the hell is this?

Anakin Skywalker didn't spend ten years in the Imperial Brooding Chamber in his Castle Commemorating His Defeat on his Impressive Stone Throne of Angst, plotting his revenge like the Pettiest Most Dramatic Bitch in the Galaxy, for nothing.

This was supposed to be his Validation, and he ends up fighting a terrified hobo in a strip mine.

So, of course, he stops burning him. This isn't what he wanted at all. He lets Ben go, because maybe if he does so, the Force will stop yanking his chain and give him the round two he always wanted.

And the best part? It will. Deborah Chow has slowly, meticulously showed the re-emergence of General Kenobi, the best of the Jedi, poking through ten years of loneliness and mourning. It will come back, it will come out, but Darth Vader might not like the result.

Why?

"The Jedi Code is like an itch. He cannot help it!"

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi spoilers #darth vader #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi series

[cherish--these--times]

i just want to tell you how much i loved your post on media literacy & tedbecca!! really well put and what i hope reasonable fans not on our side would read so they’d realize where we come from! 💜

You absolute sweetheart. Thank you for telling me that. I should have been kinder in my approach but I am simply appalled, and sick and tired by a lot of people and now Brendan Hunt (not even gonna mispell his name, I'm fucking mad) for claiming that wanting Ted and Rebecca to get together was purely us silly fans being girly girls conditioned to want the male and female leads to end up together, so we could spice up our dull little lives with some sweet sweet Disney romance. I am INCENSED. I have seen quite a few queer people here rooting for them as well, which makes this reasoning even more offensive. Also to claim that he was surprised people would take it so personally is hilarious to me. Dude... have you ever been a fan of anything before??? Don't you know how much stories matter to people?? Wasn't it the goal when you made this show????

What antis don't seem to understand is that nobody in the TedBecca fandom was claiming that there were any romantic feelings between Ted and Rebecca. That would be insane because it just wasn't the case.

However, anybody with a modicum of critical thinking could see that they were playing with romcom tropes with them. But that's not even why I think most of us began to think we were heading there. What the writers did, in what remains a beautiful, masterful way, was lead the audience paying enough attention to understand that they were MEANT to be together. In a way far more profound than mere infatuation or physical attraction. No. They were each other's guarantee of true, long-lasting happiness. That's what they've established. Because they were similar in fundamental ways (a bit silly and immensely kind for instance). They had gone through similar things, including life-defining traumas on the same fucking day, at the same fucking time, and therefore could provide the other with all the support, the care, the devotion that the other needed. And they were doing just that! They could even communicate without words. They were undoubtedly making the other greater, which is exactly what Higgins wanted for Beard and Jane. They just had not realised it yet. Better still, I thought it was fabulous to have them go on their healing journey first, reach the top of the mountain, and THEN have them realise they were the love of each other's life. WHAT A BEAUTIFUL CONCEPT. Truly a spectacular story, and one they hinted at RELENTLESSLY. And until the very end. When in truth, they could have stopped this many moons ago by having Rebecca meet a nice, sweet guy (not Dutch guy, fuck him, he was creepy as hell) as soon as series 1 ended and be done with it. But no. Ooooh no. They kept that shit going until the very last episode. Even Rebecca begging Ted to stay was yet another romcom trope they dangled under our nose. They shot themselves in the foot with that one too, because Ted's determination to leave felt even more stupid and irrational when perfect solutions were handed to him on a silver platter by her (OUT OF LOVE). No wonder he didn't say a word, because nothing he could have said would have realistically justified his departure after what she offered. Nope. He kept his mouth shut because the true answer he had was: "I don't want to leave but the writers insist I must be this Magical Being that comes into people's lives to make them better and then go away in a poof of smoke and glitter. Mostly glitter. Ain't that a damn shame. I appreciate you, though."

To claim their story was never intended to be understood as such and say it was all on us for making shit up is simply untrue (and insulting, and you can fuck off). It was all there. Beautifully woven through every episode, in subtle but undeniable ways. Using, one could argue, The Lasso Way. A series of imperceptible moments all leading to the inevitable conclusion. Even this, I thought, was another hint……

And yeah, on top of that, I am FUMING over the misdirects (Bantr texting and matchbook in Ted's pocket, the latter really making my blood boil) and Dutch Guy being shamelessly Ted-coded (and all of a sudden everybody was overjoyed because he was the perfect guy for her even though everything he did that day, Ted had already done first. Minus the kiss on the ankle, offering her a foot massage and shaming her into drinking because that was fucking creepy and also Ted would never bad-mouth his ex).

I do take some comfort in seeing now a couple of articles online denouncing the way we, as an audience, were treated. You know, people who have media literacy, unlike us, apparently??

I'm angry, annoyed, insulted, but mostly I'm just sad. Because they ruined that show for a lot of people, including myself, and a few of their own characters in the process.

#tedbecca #ted x rebecca #ted lasso spoilers #forever salty #feels good to vent though

[hikennosabo]

#tristampparty day 9, episode 9: millions knives

i've been forgetting to tag @tristampparty in my recent posts whoopsies

so. episode 9. going to just... climb into the microwave ahead of time. get nice and cozy in there. let's. go.

okay let's hit the start button on that microwave now mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm beep beep beep beep

uagh his fucking expressions in this scene... and him playing "his" side of the piano, then reaching to "vash's" side of the piano to play the dramatic part. it's a cry of loneliness!!! from his heart!!!! AUAHAHGHGH

i remember seeing a post a while ago pointing out that knives cutting off vash's arm means they can never play the piano together anymore and that fucking HURTS, man.

i think we need to take the time to pay extra attention to knives's expressions... the character acting in tristamp is really good all-around

overworking them "cuts them off"... i guess it makes them unable to maintain the connection...?

knives touching the glass... reminds me of just before he absorbs the first plant in the manga.

the contrast of the city lighting up beautifully with the horror of the last run... man.

wait... city...?? this... this isn't july, right? the platform/corridor they're standing on looks the same as the one meryl and roberto end up on in the second half of the episode, but the plant containers on the wall are different so i don't think this is the same place... but we started the episode in knives's piano room, which IS in (not-yet-)july, so this must be close by because the alarm went off, which i'm assuming is connected to the plants somehow...??

also wait, we don't see this level of development from the outside. like in the faraway shot when vash spots this place. am i misunderstanding. it's only been 5 years since the crash, so idk if this much development would be possible in that time BUT the guys who show up said they overloaded the plants to speed up "reconstruction," so... uhhhhh... am i missing something?! am i dumb?! 😭

me every time knives makes an expression that hurts me deep in my heart: look!!!! look!!!!

screencaps absolutely do not do it justice, the way his expression changes... horror, shock, grief...

the timing of vash arriving... the cruelty of the humans, the way they talk about the plants... knives's sadness, his grief and rage--wait one of the randos gets his arm cut off

lost arm count: 6

as always i feel like there's a lot more to say but the only thing i'm feeling is my heart hurting so bad :(

vash might be speaking for himself here, too.

hmmm, he says this, but knives dismisses it as if he doesn't believe it. i wonder... i don't think rem would lie about this... but i wonder if conrad would. lie to knives, i mean. like is knives dismissing this just because he's clinging to his own beliefs or did conrad - who i'd think would be more knowledgeable about plants than rem given his position - tell knives something else?

AGAIN, "SINNERS" WITH THE CAPITAL S!!!

i forget, do we see how vash got his gun in the manga? knives gave him his gun in 98, too. interesting that knives is the one who gives vash his weapon in at least 2 out of 3 canons...

hmmm. in the manga, this scene was when knives learned about the black hair thing and drastically changed his plan, deciding he needed to absorb plants. here, though, it seems knives was already planning the higher dimension connection stuff, although he hadn't put it into motion yet. because the plants here are just... being used normally (""normally""), not stored for future higher dimension connection purposes or absorption purposes. knives does still "change his plan," though, i think, when he realizes vash won't cooperate with him. i wonder if/when we'll get the black hair reveal in tristamp. i wanna see knives with his black streak.

conrad and luida know each other... luida DID mention conrad by name last ep, but considering his position it wouldn't be that weird for her to know of his existence without actually knowing him, but no, they actually know each other...

ugh, when knives tells vash to kill luida, he's asking vash to choose between humans and plants, and it just hurts because. knives and luida are both his family. he loves them both.

wait knives with the lace up knee high boots... the drip...

this is the face he makes right before he gives way to anger. man.

he sees rem in luida and lashes out... vash saw rem in her too... ugh. my heart.

going frame by frame again and knives has a bandage on his arm... why? it doesn't seem to be part of his outfit, he doesn't have one on the other arm. there's on on his right leg too, under the boot?? why...

also i like how knives rides the pull of gravity to get close enough to cut vash's arm off. that's a fun detail

lost arm count: 7

the difference in context of knives cutting off vash's arm in tristamp vs trimax... it's a canyon... a canyon of difference...

once again screencaps don't do the character acting justice, the microexpressions he makes... the disbelief, the shaky laugh... he's about to cry. vash couldn't point the gun at luida. but he points it at knives. and then he stands up and turns away, and the way his voice shakes?? dude. he's crying.

but also why does he say it'll take a century to build a world of plants? where is he getting that number from? later in the episode, zazie says that a century is nothing to plants, but knives is like. six. a century would probably still feel like it'd be a long time to him. is that his own personal estimate of how long it'll take to execute his plan? is it conrad's?

wolfwood doesn't react at all when brad says this. funny, but also why.

i hope they can. i hope they can make up. (<- crying screaming and throwing up)

reminds me of vash saying he'll save knives in 98. im gonna throw up

IM GONNA THROW UP!!!!!

it's so weird that ZAZIE is the one explaining earth. like they know a LOT about it, huh? what it looks like, what the life on it looks like (looked? should i be using past tense?)... who told them all this? knives? conrad? this isn't common knowledge either, even honors student meryl doesn't know anything about earth. but why? a lot of knowledge was lost when the ships crashed, and time has passed, but... why would the state of earth and the reasons for the colony ships not even be taught in school? the survivors from when the ships crashed were FROM earth. (well, i guess some of them might have been born in space, but...?) did they not teach their descendants about what happened? were they ashamed? or is this another thing that conrad/EoM/whoever is suppressing information about - and if THAT'S the case, why?

uuaaaghhh i'm writing this post late again and it's 3am and i can't think. sorry this was mostly incomprehensible screaming

#tristampparty #trigun talk #june speaks

[dramalets]

Top 5 most heart wrenching, soul shattering, i-must-leave-the-room BL moments

E V I L. I truly had to sleep on this one to think it through. I’m a tearful bean in life but something has to hit correctly in media to get me. (Often it’s the bittersweet that’ll get me instead of the out and out tragedy.)

1. Vice Versa

As I’ve stated before I’m not a gif maker nor a particularly good screen grab taker so I don’t have a shot of a particular moment for you. But VV just all round was an emotional rollercoaster for me. The moment where Puen is preparing to go back to his own universe and must say goodbye to his alternate universe parents, all whilst knowing he has no family in his real t/l, is absolutely gut stabbing to me.

2. Like in the movies

Just the whole show. It’s a perfect example of a right person wholly wrong time relationship and it’s played so beautifully by Ian & Paolo. It’s 8 thirty minute episodes that I will simply never get over.

3. GameBoys (1&2)

These sweet, sweet boys. Kokoy & Elijah are amazing cryers. I can find crying on screen very awkward if it’s not done well but these two perfected the art. Overall this drama is a positive one but the emotional punches it does make really hit and are made all the better by how clearly the love these two have is shown to us.

4. Moonlight Chicken

Specifically Kaipa. Also really the sort of resigned heaviness of Uncle Jim in the earlier episodes and the way he grows with the people around him. His journey made me emotional.

5. Be My Favourite

When Kawi goes back and he’s famous and he thinks things are fixed but he realises he’s, not only, fucked up his life but also in turn Pear’s, Pisaeng’s and tbh also Max’s. The slow realisation he comes too that it’s Pisaeng he can’t live without, that he needs to once again go back on himself and repair things so this t/l never gets too happen, it kills me. Also shout out to Gawin’s acting in these scenes because the boy proved himself.

I think also general shout out too the FirstKhao extended universe because those fuckers ALWAYS make me cry.

#tag game #jen rambles