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#for social anxiety/Covid reasons

horreurscopes · 1 year

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you don't have to pay overdraft fees ever

the biden administration recently cracked down on overdraft fees which means banks cannot force you to pay them as they have become opt-in -- however you do have to call the bank (for example, paypal payments overdraft you even if you have opted out, as they function like checks.)

my experience is with wellsfargo but i imagine that most major banks may operate similarly:

if you have an overdraft fee, call the bank, you will get a machine. go through the autentification process with it but do not mention your issue when it asks you to (specially not the word overdraft -- this is a conspiracy theory i cannot prove but i swear to god they rewire you to more aggressive phone people if you tipoff the machine) instead say "i'd like to speak to a representative" the machine will be like "lol didn't get that" so you may need to repeat it a couple more times before it wires you to a real person

wait! i'd recomend calling as early in the morning as possible to avoid elevator music.

be nice to the customer service person who picks up (i make a point of thanking them for their help and calling them by their name, if i don't catch it the first time i ask them again for it)

my script is something along the lines of: "hi, i noticed there's an overdraft fee in my account that posted on [date]. i am calling to see if we (WE -- you and the representative are a team against the problem) could do something about it" (<- you may decide to be more direct, i just put my innocent hat on)

most if not all of what they say to you is a script. they will be like "i will check that for you with the automated process that takes into account you previous refund activity" BLAH BLAH BLAH. more waiting. if you have had any refunds in the past 12 months, they will be like "sorry the system says no (:" THOUGH, VERY RECENTLY, they have tacked on this question: do you have any thoughts on that / how do you feel about that / etc. though even if they do not prompt you, here's the next step:

say: thank you! i appreciate the automated review, however i do not agree/approve/consent to being charged a fee. is there any way you could check again / anyone else i could talk to / would it be possible to refund it regardless? etc.

they will check again, possibly more waiting, and then you will get an immediate refund! in the rare case they refuse to, here is the link to the FDIC website that you can refer to (note, this is for overdraft fees only):

8. i cannot emphasize this enough -- be nice !!!!!!!!!!! BE NICE! be cheerful, say "thank you" and "no worries" and "take your time!". it is NOT a confrontation, it is NOT their fault, and most of the time the customer service representative wants this to be as frictionless as possible. they are helping you, use the opportunity to make a moment of their day a lot less stressful than they expect it to be.

that is ALL -- i have been using wellsfargo for over eight years, and have lost hundreds of dollars to predatory overdraft fees charged as a punishment for having no money.

during the beginning covid, when they were momentarily suspended (you had to mention covid on the phone to get them back lol), i came to the realization that all of this time they could have been giving me my money back. there was no reason not to, except corporate greed.

do not let phone social anxiety let them take your money from you, now that it is easier than EVER to get it back. and if you need motivation to pick up the phone, remember this headline from a couple of years back lol:

DEATH TO CAPITALISM !!!!!!

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exculis · 1 year

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Do you guys think its possible that im creatively stifled because I have no real experiences and have essentially sat in the same room for 20 years only leaving to go to school or have a series of panic attacks bevause I am unsocialized like a feral dog. Do you think that might have anything to do with it.

#I don't think its a coincidence that my creative drive left the year I graduated #but now with the pandemic I'm afraid to go do stuff for all new reasons.#before it was social anxiety. which I still have #but I'm better at coping now than I used to be. its also easier when it isn't school #like if I go to a shop or something I'm not trapped in there for 8 hours a day 5 days a week #with the same exact people #but now that ive been improving coping-wise I am afraid of long covid.

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oscar-wilde-thing · 7 months

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Four years ago I sat in a psychiatrist's office. I was explaining why a certain Cognitive Behavioral Therapy technique felt impossible.

"If I don't think I know how a social interaction is going to work out, if I don't know the pattern, I can't do it."

The Dr nodded, and we moved on.

A few sessions later, she said she didn't think she could work with me anymore.

Great, I thought to myself. I'm being dumped by my therapist.

"I don't think I can work with you, because I think you're autistic."

I literally felt my world shift underneath me.

She explained more, about social interactions, about hyper sensitivity, about pattern recognition and anxiety and early-life academic achievement. I did end up stopping treatment with her, I don't really remember why. But I held that suggestion in my head.

The end of 2019 was rocky- working retail around the holidays is its own special hell, and my grandmother died in December of that year.

Then 2020 happened. COVID and isolation and protests and my workplace unionizing. Through all of that I was reading, and watching videos, and researching. About how autism and neurodivergency presents differently in girls and AFAB people. How the research is incredibly outdated and mostly focused on white, middle class boys. How getting a diagnosis as an adult, let alone an AFAB adult, is a fight.

I kept trucking along, learning new ways to cope. Figuring out that sometimes what I had thought were anxiety attacks was actually sensory overload. That my penchant for spreadsheets and what I called my "encyclopedic nerd brain" were probably hyper fixations.

It took 4 years.

4 years, 8 more mental health professionals, a mental breakdown, a month in residential mental health care, and 5 more months in acute daily mental health care, but today, at 12:55PM, I was officially diagnosed with Autism.

I'm sitting here at my desk weeping because I'm both so happy and so angry. Happy that there's a reason I feel the way I feel, that there's a reason why the world seems so harsh, that there's a reason why I sometimes physically can't talk and a reason why certain foods and sounds and textures make me want to crawl out of my skin. But I'm also so angry that it took 26 years for anyone to see. That it took another 4 years for me to get any answers. That there are countless other little girls and adult AFABS like me out there who feel like they're doing everything they're supposed to but not getting what the world tells them they should be getting.

My life has changed. Or maybe it hasn't changed. Maybe a door has opened that had never been seen before.

I'm not sure how to wrap this up.

I just know that learning more about myself is rarely a bad thing. And now that I know this big piece of who I am, I'll be able to go forward and learn more ways to exist in this world as an autistic person.

#actually autistic #autism #autistic #mental health #neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autistic adult

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comicaurora · 1 year

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How would you personally suggest getting into/staying in shape? I do regular walks, which is nice and all, but I have a feeling that will not be as good as like, going into a gym?

As I understand it, regular walks are actually one of the absolute best ways to stay active and baseline in shape. "In shape" looks and feels different for everyone, but the general rule of fitness is Use It Or Lose It. Your body adjusts to whatever level of exertion you're regularly putting it through, which is why the first time you try a new kind of exercise it'll be tortuously difficult and the next time you try it there'll be shocking improvement. The first time I tried jogging of any kind I could only make it about two-thirds of the way through, but when I tried again a few days later I did the whole course that had kicked my ass so hard the previous run. It's just how your body adjusts.

Walking is great for general full-body fitness and has the general benefit of not being in an enclosed gym full of people, which is good for both social anxiety and covid reasons. I'd also recommend a little ten-minute yoga stretching routine to compensate for long periods sat at a desk and generally keep up flexibility.

Beyond that, "working out" is really a matter of picking the poison that works for you. Some people run, others lift, others climb - it's a matter of what you enjoy, what you can stick with and what you want to be able to physically do.

That's a huge part of exercise that I think gets glossed over, because "being in shape" is seen as this weird moralized baseline of being a Good Person and therefore people don't think of it in terms of its actual benefits - giving you a body that can Do More Stuff You Like.

I loved rock climbing as a kid and wanted to get back into it, so I looked up bouldering gyms and took a crack at it, and once I confirmed that it was indeed still fun (but also that my forearms were NOT prepared) I looked into doing it more. I've never had endurance for distance running, favoring sprints, so I've started looking into training up longer-distance jogging to build up stamina. I found I legitimately enjoy the feeling of swimming, and as a happy benefit it's also one of the best low-impact full-body workouts you can find. I like the strength and flexibility I had as a whippy little gymnast, and while some of that just doesn't work at my post-puberty height and weight, I can still make sure I stay flexible enough to keep tumbling on my skill list.

Some people stay in shape running, some people do fencing, some people lift weights, some walk dogs, some frequent a gym, some kickbox, some swim - but the ones that stick with it are the ones who find some part of it that they actually enjoy. If it's a chore and it feels pointless, it'll be damn hard to work up the motivation.

#asks #not aurora

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pleaseeeimjustagirl · 5 months

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♡Weekly Chronicles♡

Hey babes! I've missed you guysss I am so happy I had an amazing trip it was so nice. I went to a convention in Maryland for 5 days it was so nice. I definitely left with a lot of knowledge so many amazing people spoke at the lectures<3 and I'm sorry I missed the weekly affirmations for this week.

♡Education♡

I applied for all my classes for next semester before my trip. I’m low-key excited about the classes I have coming up. Lot of different courses since I'm almost done with my major required classes now I need to fill the rest of my credits with electives. I have an art class next semester just for fun. I can't wait to meet the people in my classes. I have to take this math class I am not excited for at all I hate math lol so every time I update you girliesss on this class I'll probably be complaining lol.

♡Mental♡

Interacting with different people this past week has been very good for me mentally. It brought me back to pre-quarantine Khadija who was such a big extrovert. After covid, I started to have mild social anxiety so this was needed. I dealt with a little insecurities while on my trip interacting with so many beautiful women I started to doubt my looks comparison is the thief of joy, I practiced a lot of the methods my therapist recommended like canceling one negative thought with two positive thoughts. I realized I was all in my head for no reason. I love watching Leo Skepi when I am feeling this way he always gets me together. I highly recommend him if you are dealing with a lack of discipline, self-confidence, or just need someone to get you together with tough love he is that guyyy. Side noteee I missed my antidepressant dose twice in a row because of traveling back to New York and it low-key made me hazy like it was super weird but I took it today.

♡Physical♡

While I was away I ate super bad! The event was an African-focused event so the food there wasn’t healthy at all. I was going to stick to my diet while on my trip but I decided I'm on a trip let me relax and I don't regret it at all. But I am seeing the consequences of my food choices now I am soooo bloated lol. So I am starting a cleanse tomorrow for the next 14 days I already prepped my ginger shot for the morning I want to flush my system out completely going into the new year. I don't recommend cleanses especially to my babes that have dealt with ED’s always consult your doctors before starting anything. I just do what works for me.

♡Hobbies♡

Now that I am back I can get back to being consistent with my Italian, pilates, and weight lifting. I was so sad I could not lift I feel like I'm low-key obsessed with lifting lol it feels so good and I've been seeing results, especially in my lower body. While I was gone I didn't have any time to do my hobbies they had us in lectures and events constantly. I practiced my Italian once which I'm happy about. I plan on starting jewelry making next week I'm super excited it was one of my favorite hobbies when I was in middle school. I used to make earrings and bracelets.

♡Plans For The Weekend♡

My birthday is Sunday, December 31st! I am turning 21 yay! I am super excited I don't have anything planned for my birthday. I am going to have a mini celebration with my family and watch the ball drop my siblings bought me presents so I'm excited to open everything. I'm starting my cleanse so I'll be working out and taking good care of my body internally and externally so I'll be off social media this weekend and focused on my mental and physical health. I plan on creating my vision board and listing my goals this year. My dad is ordering my camera I used to have a YouTube channel but I took a break to work on my self-improvement journey I do plan on getting back on my YouTube grind soon lol so look out for that coming out in 2024!

This week's little journal entrieee a lot happened this week and I'm excited to see what this new year brings babesss. Comment your plans this weekend and how did your week go?

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thefrogman · 11 months

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On fucking up...

The house has been incredibly quiet since my dad passed. And that quiet turns into loneliness quite often for me. So last night I decided to use every spoon I had to go to the movies. I swallowed my social anxiety and went out into the world.

The theater had these recliners that sit on a raised step. But when you are actually sitting in the seat you can't see that step. Once the movie was over I forgot about the step. I got up to leave and my ankle caught it on the way down. I flew forward and crashed into the back of a row of seats.

A middle aged gentlemen saw this and said, "Gee buddy, this your first day walking?"

And the other 8 people in the theater gave a boisterous laugh.

I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

Making a mistake feels bad.

Making a mistake in public is an embarrassing lesson in humility.

And making a mistake witnessed by 15,000 people is terrifying.

When you get something wrong and people call you out, your first instinct is to dig in. Everyone wants to dig in. Which is usually the worst possible reaction. You want to defend yourself. You don't want to believe you were wrong. And you start spewing out reasons why you can't be wrong. I think the current vernacular calls this "tweeting through it."

Over the years I have tried very hard to fight that instinct to dig in. To consider what people have said and recheck my facts to see if my original information could be inaccurate. And sometimes you find out you were right and strengthen your point of view.

But when you find out you were duped or misunderstood the information, there is nothing quite like that sinking feeling.

And when you are wrong in front of 15,000 people... that sinking feeling goes to the center of the earth.

You get sucked into a thought spiral...

"How do I fix this? Do I send a message to all 15,000 people? Do I just post a video of me repeatedly punching myself in the face? Do I delete the post? No, can't delete the post, people will think you are trying to hide your mistake. Plus all those reblogs."

You have to accept the fact that even if you publicly admit you were wrong, a lot of those people are never going to see it. They are going to believe the thing and possibly spread it to others.

You've created a runaway freight train and you just have to watch it crash into stuff.

The sad thing is I have learned this lesson a few times in my 10+ years of being a minor public figure. It has caused me to be so paranoid about passing along bad information that I will fact check things to death. Sometimes 5 or 6 sources. I'll look at reputable sources and disreputable sources. And I'll try to corroborate those disreputable sources just as an exercise to give me confidence I have the best information at that time.

But the other night I finished watching John Wick 4 and was high on action juice. I started watching every John Wick video on YouTube. My history shows about 40 videos. And at 2 or 3am I heard the director being hyperbolic in a podcast clip and thought a fun fact was too great not to share.

I thought, "I'm not telling people to eat horse paste for COVID. I'm not pretending I'm a submarine expert who knows exactly how to save people at the bottom of the ocean. It's just a flippy gun maneuver. I'm sure Chad knows what he is talking about."

So I posted the thing on my personal blog with sleep in my eyes and figured it was fine. And after 500 notes no one had really said anything, so I thought it was okay to share on my main blog.

And that was my biggest mistake. I deemed the subject matter to be trivial so I lowered my standards.

I forgot that damn step was there and flew into the seats.

There are dishonest people on the internet. Tons of them. People who will post dangerous misinformation without a care. People who have a pattern of lying. Grifters who thrive on baiting people for clicks. And I think it has caused us to react to bad information with hostility by default. People forget that there are still honest people who just make a mistake or get duped. Yet they can still feel the need to make people feel stupid for believing something that seems so obvious to them.

I have been guilty of this myself. I have called people out forgetting they are a human being behind that social media avatar.

The first person to call me out just said, "This is not true, LMFAO."

That's not helpful.

People made me feel like I was a liar. And I am very sensitive to that. For years doctors, family, and friends were skeptical of my Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. And when someone accuses me of being dishonest, I get very anxious and see red.

But I tried very hard not to dig in. I asked for more information--for evidence. Just point me in a direction so I can figure out what's true. But I got angry when all they said was that I was wrong without elaboration. Which is another form of digging in.

I guess I'm asking people to start with compassion before hostility. Maybe if we don't know the person or they have been a mostly reliable source, we can give people a chance. If the person has a history of deception, that's a different story. Bad faith is usually pretty easy to spot.

I remember for a long time I used to love telling people their blood was blue until it was exposed to oxygen. It was just the funnest fun fact I had ever heard and I *needed* others to know the thing I knew. Giving people knowledge can be intoxicating. But then I told my good friend who just became a medical resident and he was like, "I don't remember that in medical school. I think that might be an urban legend."

I still got that sinking feeling and I still had flashbacks to every person I told... but I was grateful he was so kind when he corrected me.

You can correct someone with kindness.

I'd ask that you imagine yourself in their shoes. Think about how embarrassing it is when you get something wrong. And just be like, "Hey, I think you got some bad information. Here's why."

When someone faceplants into a row of seats, metaphorically or otherwise, maybe ask if they are okay before laughing at them.

#long post

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

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hello readers. AITA for visiting a friend in another country before visiting a different friend in a different (neighboring, but still a good 7-10hr trip) country?

some context: friend 1 and i have been online friends for over a decade. by reasons of circumstance- they're a few years older than me so they could travel easier, their family is more affluent whereas mine couldn't shell out ~1k for an overseas flight until i was able to make that money myself as an adult, they had already graduated college and could travel easier than when i was still in college and could not (summer was technically an option but friend 1 hates hot weather and getting sweaty, so they always wanted to meet up in colder months, which limited my schedule)- the four times we've been able to hang out in person, they came to visit me instead of vice versa. the 4th time was a couple years ago, and they purchased tickets at the start of that year (2022). however, at the same start of that year, i got involved in a new community and met a lot of amazing people, especially friend 2, who quickly became one of my best friends in a short amount of time. it was just one of those instant connections, y'know?

anyway. fast forward about six months. since friend 1 was already coming here towards the end of 2022, and there was no refunding those tickets, friend 2 and i wound up making plans to see each other. but they couldn't easily afford the plane fare, so i decided to go visit them in their home country instead. part of the reason i never had done so with friend 1 before was bc i just wasn't mentally ready to be so far from family, in a different country, by myself - i had a lot of anxiety about such a long trip. i still had some now, but after going through covid and such, i changed a decent amount as a person, and wasn't quite as anxious anymore. i had also moved out, so i was more used to being away from family by then.

the trip with friend 2 wasn't going to happen until 2023. when friend 1 came to visit, however, they found out about the trip (by apparently looking through my likes on twitter, where friend 2 had made a post about it) and completely broke down. i had been trying to figure out a way to tell them, but had a feeling that any method would result in this exact reaction, so i had put it off, until i was unfortunately proven correct.

further context: friend 1 and i have never been great at honest communication. this is a fault of both of ours, but i feel like i am able to admit it more honestly, apologize/own up to it, and try and make changes. we met young and immature, and the majority of our talk over the years has been superficial, solely about fantasy characters. when i got too busy in college, and my time/interest in characters declined, i felt more and more like our relationship wasn't as fulfilling. i was afraid to bring this up because on two separate occasions in the past, when i mentioned hanging out with other friends (and in one if the situations, which was an online game, i invited friend 1 to join us) i was immediately ghosted by friend 1 for a few days. so i stopped feeling able to bring up any plans with friends going forward, for fear they wouldn't take it well. i made up excuses and lies when i DID hang out with other people to explain away my absence (we were used to talking daily, but it felt like an obligation after a time, as they'd always ask why i wasn't online for a day). obvs, none of this is healthy, but it led to how i (mis)handled the current situation.

friend 1 found out, we had a lot of difficult talks on a trip that was supposed to be fun, and throughout the remainder of the trip i basically felt watched for whenever i was on my phone - lots of passive aggressive comments dropped about how "they wouldn't use social media on a trip like this, bc they could just do that at home". i was accused of being in love with friend 2, bc why else would i wanna go visit them so soon into a friendship, of not wanting friend 1 to even be here, of "holding something that happened years ago" over them (the ghosting) when i tried to explain why i didn't tell them. (i don't hold the situations themselves against them anymore, but it's had a profound interaction on how i conduct myself in relationships now). they said that they wanted to be my first international experience, which i get, but in my mind, it's two completely different countries, and they were already coming to visit before these plans were even made. they also made it clear they didn't care about the circumstances, friend 1 just wanted to be "my first" no matter what i said. i felt/still feel like that's too controlling, basically asking me not to go hang out with friend 2 bc i didn't adhere to their timetable for it first.

i had an amazing time with friend 2, and it was just an overall more comfortable experience. i still feel like i owe friend 1 a visit, even though i don't see a long future for our dying friendship (and even, if i'm being very honest with myself, i don't want to go visit them). personally, i'm fine with this - we've just grown into different people imo. but they don't have many friends, and had a couple rough ghostings from previous friends of their own, so i feel guilty about wanting to call it quits on ours, which again i know they won't take well. i just don't think we're compatible anymore, but even so, this whole situation has continued to eat at me even though it's been nearly a year now. i keep wondering if i really am in the wrong here, if i wasn't as considerate as i should have been, if i shouldn't be so blase about ending a decade+ friendship.

so, AITA for visiting friend 2 in their country before friend 1?

#aita #am i the asshole

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reality-detective · 7 months

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How OPERATION SCARIANT 2023 is being used to launch Plandemic 2.0 Plandemic 2.o is an integral piece of the Great Reset implementation plan and New World Order agenda to be executed in earnest this Fall of 2023. OPERATION SCARIANT, which features the extremely ‘scary’ Omincron subvariant known as Eris, is the main show for folks who are still captivated by this ridiculous government-sponsored but extremely serious genocidal enterprise.

Nevertheless, there are numerous reasons why the Khazarian genocidal bioterrorists are hellbent on rolling out Plandemic 2.0 this Fall. The following list presents only some of the most significant NWO goals, WEF objectives and WHO targets. (1) To cover up the massive excess death numbers directly resulting from the ongoing Covid vaccine genocide across America (and global depopulation scheme)

(2) To stealthily kill vaccinated children who are now much more vulnerable to the bacterial infections associated with Eris (aka Omicron [B.1.1.529] a subvariant of SARS-CoV-2

(3) To intensify the slow-motion slaughter of vaccinated 20 to 45 year-olds who are now much more susceptible to myocarditis, pericarditis, blood clots and other fatal heart ailments

(4) To further turbo-charge the numerous medical ailments and health conditions, chronic diseases and autoimmune syndromes, psychological disorders and psychiatric illnesses across the entire population, all of which have seen HUGE upticks post-Covid vaccination

(5) To murder as many retirees as possible in order to reduce the Social Security & Disability, Medicare and Medicaid rolls

(6) To massacre as many individuals, who suffer from multiple comorbidities and/or terminal diseases, who are still living after Plandemic 1.0

(7) To eliminate as many Baby Boomers as possible as well as the Beat Generation elderly, especially the anti-establishment types

(8) To provide maximum distraction from the many Democrat crime sprees being investigated by the House

(9) To divert the attention of the electorate from the multiple crime waves perpetrated by the Biden Crime Family and especially by the POTUS Imposter and Criminal-in-Chief

(10) To create maximum chaos, confusion and conflict throughout the last year of the 2024 election cycle so that the Democrats can steal yet another POTUS election, as well as to set the stage for a long-planned American Bolshevik revolution

(11) To provide a pretext to deploy yet another highly weaponized and lethal Covid ‘vaccine’ by which to rapidly intensify Plandemic 2.0.

(12) To significantly supercharge the previously administered kill-shots, clot-shots and cancer-shots thereby increasing SADS and SIDS as well as excess deaths across the board

(13) To sufficiently scare the American people back into the same space of extreme fear and anxiety about the COVID-19 contagion so they will fully submit to the Covid Super Vaccination Agenda (and demand that everyone they know get vaxxed to the max)

- Benjamin Fulford 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think for yourselves #think about it #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #ask yourself questions #question everything #you decide

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ecopunkbeginner · 1 year

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I really want to learn how to sew, but I'm very overwhelmed. I'm afraid of practicing on most things for fear of messing them up and wasting them. I'm really the kind of person who needs someone teaching me and available to answer my questions, but I don't have anyone for that and there's several reasons I'm apprehensive about finding a class (the most rational of which are my lack of income and COVID, but social anxiety is also a factor).

I know there's guides and videos online, but I always get so overwhelmed and usually don't know where to start because all my ideas are abstract, abstract to me specifically (because I don't know how fabric construction works), or difficult and/or risky enough to scare and/or confuse me out of wanting to do it.

Does anyone have tips for teaching yourself to sew? How do I practice without being wasteful?

#low waste #zero waste #sewing #wasteless crafts #mending #visible mending #i have one thing that im not afraid of practicing on that has a few simple rips in it and i think i might be able to make that happen #(if i even have needles...shit do i have needles?) but after that i only have like vague ideas #solarpunk #diy #fiber art #fiber crafts

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thewayofthemandalorian · 2 years

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supposed to be just friends - oneshot

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You and Dieter Bravo are just friends. That all changes when he brings you along when he travels internationally to film a new movie. This has to be a mistake, right?

Word count: 8,148

Notes: This might be the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever written. The vague outline I had for this fic was Dieter cuddling and then this came out of it. It’s sort of AU-adjacent as Dieter doesn’t do Cliff Beasts in this version of events and instead works on himself. There are many, many references in this, some meta, some not. Our reader is on the struggle bus at the beginning of this fic and is kind of going through it, but our Dieter helps her get through it. The title comes from the song Glitch by Taylor Swift. All my love and appreciation to @ezrasbirdie for beta-reading ❤️

This fic is cross-posted to AO3 under the same name and my taglist can be found linked in my bio as well as my masterlist which is linked below.

Comments/reblogs appreciated.

Warnings: Mentions of COVID-19/anxieties surrounding it, rehab, addictions, references to being high, swearing, food mention, (idiot) best friends to lovers, aimlessness, only one bed, unwanted attention, kissing, non-explicit sexual content (including fingering, female receiving oral), minor miscommunication.

masterlist (main) || masterlist (dieter bravo)

The door opens with a bang — not unusual with Dieter Bravo, your neighbour and best friend of four years — and a second later, he calls out your name. “You home already?” he asks. He knows your schedule in and out, ever since you were called back to your office after a year and a half of working from home (at his apartment, no less).

You look up ruefully from the couch, your eyes glassy and red-rimmed. “I-I’m home early,” you say, trying to diffuse some of your sadness.

“What’s wrong?” For all that he is a shit who doesn’t know anything about personal space or boundaries (not that you would ask him to change. That would be like asking a zebra to change its stripes), Dieter Bravo of apartment 605 is an expert at reading people and reading social cues when it comes down to it. It must come with being an actor. Or maybe he’s just good at reading people.

“I… I was let go,” you admit, wiping your eyes.

Dieter actually laughs. Not at you, but out of incredulity. “What? Why?” he asks.

You roll your eyes. “Something about downsizing? Or budget cuts? They gave a very inane reason that I didn’t really pay attention to.” You had wanted to pay attention, but once the words “I’m afraid to have to inform you that we are letting you go,” were out of your manager’s mouth, your ears started ringing and you didn’t process anything else that was said after that.

“Did they at least give you a warning? Any sort of indication?” Dieter asks, coming over to the couch where you’ve flopped down, still in your work clothes.

You shake your head. “My boss called me into her office this morning. My first thought was that I was getting that promotion that she hinted at six months ago.”

That promotion was the only thing that was keeping you at that job. You hated it. It was a menial, joyless job. What you hate the most about it is that you were good at it. So when Tiffany had called you into her office this morning, you had been hopeful that your performance was going to finally be noticed and rewarded. “Not that it matters that I’m the highest performing employee,” you grumble to yourself.

Before you realize it, Dieter’s arms are wrapped around you. “Fuck them. And fuck Tiffany.”

You snort. “You already did that,” you remark.

Dieter frowns. “Did I? When did I do that?” he asks.

“At the last holiday party before the pandemic. In 2019 I think?”

Your best friend racks his brains. “Oh yeah, I did.” He smirks, then wrinkles his nose at the memory. Apparently she hadn’t been very memorable. For her on the other hand, she’d asked you for weeks after if Dieter was seeing anyone. In the end, you’d told her that he met someone else.

His embrace is warm and you melt into it.

That’s the other thing Dieter is amazing at. Cuddles. You take them at any opportunity you can get. He’s like your own personal weighted blanket sometimes. “It’ll be okay. It’s the company’s loss.”

You close your eyes. He’s wearing lounge clothes as usual. Soft and worn and cozy, making for peak cuddles. “Is it bad that I’m kind of relieved?” you ask.

“No. You hated that job. Still, it’s never fun being let go. Trust me, I know.”

In the four years you’ve known him, he’s made about four times the references of jobs he’s been fired from before breaking into the industry. His first movie, Hunger Strike, had been a fluke, he’s sure of it. A perfect case of right place, right time. Everything he’s done since then has paled in comparison. Sure, Hunger Strike won him his Oscar, which he keeps on display next to the award he’s more proud of, his Golden Raspberry Award, that he had gone in person to to pick it up. It had been for a movie called Deadly Monster From the Deepest Jungle! He’d done it as a joke movie. It was where he’d first met the hack director Darren Eigan, who’d been a script supervisor at the time. A man so far up his own ass, Dieter almost respected him. Almost. He’d gone on and on and on about how Deadly Monster was going to re-invent the horror B-movie genre. He’d then gone on to win some award and had been thrust into the world of Cliff Beasts. Dieter would never forget the phone call he’d had with his agent when they called him to see if he was interested in mid-2020, shortly after the pandemic had started. He’d laughed down the phone and said “Hell no. If I do that movie with that hack it might just kill me.”

He also knew that if he went to film Cliff Beasts 6, his career would never recover and spending time away from his home during a time of great uncertainty would be the last thing he wanted. And to be so far away from you? No, it’s a bad idea all around.

Not to mention, filming a movie that seemed like such a clusterfuck as Cliff Beasts would interfere with his rehab over Zoom. He needed routine. And he’s not sure why, but he got the feeling that if he went to England to film during all of these upheavals, he would fall off the wagon and get so high off his rocker there’s no telling what outlandish things he’d attempt to do.

It had been rough, but he made it through to the other side, with his mentor and his sponsor and you cheering him on. You’d done work from home on one couch with your wireless earbuds (much to his chagrin) while he did his meetings. He couldn’t have done it without you cheering him on.

Your sigh pulls him back to reality. “I know. It sucks being fired. I just wish… I kind of wish that I knew what I wanted to do with my life, y’know?” you ask.

Dieter nods as he twists the friendship bracelet around his wrist, the one that you had gotten for him as an almost gag gift; he hasn’t taken it off since, except when filming. “I get it. I still don’t know if I know what I’m doing. At this point, I just go along for the ride.”

He wants to tell you that he got offered a movie role that looks promising and more in line with what he got into acting for in the first place. He’s tempted to say yes. He knows you would be happy for him – it’s his first role since before the pandemic. Or at least, the first role of consequence. He’s had recurring roles in TV series since 2021 that were filmed in LA, but this is his first starring role since Deadly Monster.

His arms are still around you. “Dieter, you can let go,” you murmur, not wanting him to.

Dieter doesn’t listen. He cuddles into you more. He’s always been a hugger. At least with you. But this is the first time he’s actively cuddled with you.

You remember the first time he hugged you was when you had been discussing the pandemic and what you were going to do. You’d been panicking. “What are we going to do, Dieter? They say that it’s really bad.” You’d been teary-eyed with worry.

Dieter, usually the more chaotic, unhinged of the two of you, had simply placed his hands on your shoulders before wrapping you in a bear-hug. It was the first of many. “We’re going to get through this. Together.”

If you hadn’t been best friends before that evening, you certainly were after that.

- - - -

It’s been an easy friendship with Dieter since he moved in next door. Sure, he gets on your nerves every now and again, but he always makes up for it. He carries himself as an asshole sometimes, which you call him out for, but you think it’s mostly for show.

Dieter cares for you. In a way that he hasn’t cared for any of his friends before. You see him. The real him. The one that he doesn’t want strangers to scrutinize on Twitter or in gossip magazines who only cared about his string of failed relationships (he needs connection) or his struggles with sobriety. It took his therapist six months before she finally cracked him. You cracked him in less than half that.

Dieter orders a pizza once he’s deemed your cuddling session over. You miss your weighted blanket as soon as he’s gotten up to get himself a Sprite from the fridge, grabbing you some water.

You’ve since moved back into your own apartment next door, but you spend a lot of time at each other's places. Despite the fact that you have a boyfriend. It’s a new relationship, still in its infancy, what you have with Ben. But you’ve just agreed to be mutual not too long ago. You’re not sure how long it’ll last, but he’s nice…ish. Dieter hates him. “He’s boring,” he’d said after meeting Ben for the first time. “And I don’t like the way he treats you. You can do so much better than that guy.”

You’d waved it off as friendly concern. Even if you agreed with him. Your other friends had also given similar opinions. But Ben was nice, if a little boring. Sometimes boring is a good thing, you try to tell yourself.

Your spirits are lifted; while you’re still bummed out about losing your job and being strung along for a promotion, it’s for the best. If you were going to be promoted, you would have already. And Tiffany was a toxic boss.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something,” Dieter says as his phone pings with an email including the script for the movie he’s in the process of being booked for. “I think I might be doing a movie soon.”

You hit Dieter on the arm. “Get out! For real?” you squeal with excitement for your best friend. “Tell me everything.”

That’s the thing Dieter likes about you. All of his successes are celebrated by you as if they’re your successes too. You always build him up. He’s not always sure that he deserves it, but he’s glad to have someone like that–someone like you—in his corner after so many people only wanting him for his modicum of fame.

“It’s called Foe, it’s an adaptation of this really insane novel where I would be playing a bit of a double role, and it starts filming next month.”

“That’s so exciting. I’m so fucking happy for you, Dieter. Really. Ugh. I’m so glad that one of us has good news today. Where is it being filmed?”

Dieter has to think for a minute. “I think in France.” He tries to gauge your facial expression. Your excitement doesn’t diminish, though.

“You’re going to love it there. I just know it. Congratulations, Dieter.”

A few days go by. You try not to wallow too much about losing your job. Dieter books the role and is sent the script. It’s the lead role. It’s not quite a mainstream film, but it’s not an obscure indie role, either. But it’s character-driven. It’s something that speaks to Dieter. He doesn’t want to be known as the actor who does movies like Deadly Monster. Only doing movies for the money. Sure, the money doesn’t hurt. But after doing so many franchise movies and bit roles on tv, he’s beginning to wonder why he got into this industry in the first place.

He’s come a long way in the four years that he’s been living here. Sure, he still has his vices, and yeah, he might still be a bit of a fuckup and a magnet for chaos, but he’s trying. He doesn’t want to coast on his good looks and his modicum of luck. He has to work for what he wants.

If rehab and the lockdown taught him anything, it’s that hardly anything good comes easy.

In the interim, you try to spend more time with Ben, trying to get to know him more. He mostly only talks about his job. He’s an accountant.

You haven’t told him that you were fired. You know he’ll only condescend. You’ll tell him when you find a new job, and say that you wanted something different. Something new.

Part of you knows that you want to cut things off with Ben. He’s not clicking with you. The sex isn’t even that good. Most times, you’ll have to finish the job yourself after he’s left.

Still, he’s… someone.

You hang out with Dieter, running lines with him, helping where you can to get him sorted for his flight.

The night before his flight, you have to cut things short, meeting Ben at his apartment for dinner. “I will try and see you before you go before your flight tomorrow morning,” you say at the door. He pulls you in for a hug. He’s always so warm and comforting.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

After typing out a quick text (which he doesn’t respond to, which is odd for Ben), you drive over to Ben’s place. It usually takes longer to get there, but traffic is light tonight. It’s raining, so that probably has people staying home.

Usually you buzz up to his apartment, but there’s someone coming out the locked door as you’re coming in. You grab it just as it’s about to close and make your way up in the elevator.

You knock and Ben opens the door. You greet him with a smile. One that he doesn’t return.

“We need to talk.”

- - - -

“You’re back early,” says Dieter when you come in half an hour later. “Like, a lot earlier than you told me.” You don’t answer, just sit down on the couch next to his half-packed suitcase. He says your name. “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“Fine. Ben broke up with me,” you murmur.

Dieter doesn’t think he heard you correctly. “He what? Why?”

“He said I wasn’t giving him what he was looking for. Which is fucking ironic given that he was the one who wanted things to be exclusive. He also said…” You blink back tears, not knowing why it upsets you so much. “He also said that I’m boring.”

You omit the part where he outright accused you of being in love with Dieter and spending more time with Dieter than with him. You don’t need to put that on Dieter’s plate the night before his flight.

Dieter sees that while you’re relieved to be free from Ben and your incompatibility with him, as well as your earlier relief at being let go, you’ve been struggling the last month.

He sits down on the couch next to you and draws you into him. “I’m sorry. He was a loser and an idiot. You’re not boring. Not at all.”

You offer him a melancholy smile. “Thanks, Dee. But you don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not just saying that. When have I ever said things I didn’t mean? And don’t count when I’ve been high. Those statements are either cosmic truths or complete bullshit with no in between.”

Looking at him, you notice his brown eyes. They’re tender and truthful. You’ve never noticed just how handsome he is. How he…

You push that oncoming thought away. He’s leaving. He’s your best friend and that’s all you’re supposed to be. You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t started to feel more for him recently.

“Thanks, Dieter. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Dieter hates the idea of leaving you like this. He knows that you’ll be fine. Beyond any doubt. You always bounce back. But the past month—hell, the past three years—have been difficult for you. When was the last time you did something for yourself? Allowed someone to do something for you? He admires you. He cares for you. More than he probably should. You’ve made it clear you want this to be nothing more than a friendship.

“Come with me,” he blurts out.

He’s met with a quizzical look. “Come with you where?” you ask.

“To France.” You open your mouth to protest, but he doesn’t let you. “Querida. When was the last time you did something nice for yourself? You deserve this. You’ve been through so much and you need to get your mind off things. I want you to come.”

You can’t explain the emotion this last part unlodges in you. Everything becomes blurry all of a sudden and before you can comprehend what’s going on, your face is buried in Dieter’s warm chest, his arms wrapped around you. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s all right,” he soothes.

You let out a shaky laugh. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle. “I–I just… how am I supposed to pay for it?”

Dieter doesn’t care. “The company is paying for my seat, I can pay for yours.”

“I can’t let you—Is it even okay that I’m coming? What about, like, quarantining and your schedule and all that?”

He shrugs. “I don’t really give a shit. They can’t make this movie without me and I don’t want to leave you behind. Let’s just go. Two best friends doing something nice for themselves. That’s all this is. Okay?”

Dieter levels you with a long, soul-searching gaze. You hold it for a long minute. Probably longer than is necessary, but neither of you can bring yourselves to look away. He’s made several good points. “All right,” you sniffle again, accepting a tissue from Dieter. “Yeah, okay. I just need to find my passport and hope that it hasn’t expired.”

While you’re searching for your passport, Dieter adds another passenger—you—to the flight. He can’t get you directly next to him in first class, but he’s sure that if he sweet-talks one of the desk agents tomorrow, they’ll let you switch seats.

“Is it okay that I don’t speak any French?” you ask, coming back in with your passport, which gratefully doesn’t expire until next year.

“Don’t you? I thought your mom had French Canadian heritage.”

You nod. “She does. It just… never clicked for me.”

“Should be fine,” says Dieter. “I don’t speak French either. We’ll wing it.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “You wing everything, Bravo,” you tease.

Dieter offers a trademark grin that’s graced so many magazine covers. “It’s one of my specialties. Go pack, ma chérie. That means sweetheart,” he adds with a wink.

- - - -

At an entirely ungodly time of morning, your phone’s alarm goes off. You whine and hug your pillow closer, hitting the snooze button blindly. After two more snoozes, you force yourself to get up, stumbling to the shower, only turning on the overhead light in the shower and not the bathroom light itself.

Just as you’re finishing getting dressed, Dieter marches in. He looks bleary-eyed too.

“Why did I say yes to this, Dieter? You didn’t tell me the flight leaves at ass-o’clock.” He knows your complaint isn’t serious.

He mumbles something about airport Starbucks. “Shuttle’s almost here, we should head down.”

The ride to the airport is mostly passed in silence. The sun won’t be up for hours. Last night you’d hastily put together a suitcase and carry-on. Dieter said that the movie would take about a month and a half to film. You didn’t know if you had a month and a half’s worth of clothes, but you were sure that the hotel that the production company was putting him (and you, still unbeknownst to them) up in had a laundry facility. You’d asked if you should maybe return without him and come back sooner, but he’d said no and you didn’t want to come home by yourself if you didn’t have to. You hate air travel at the best of times. After informing your parents, your uncle and some of your friends where you were jetting off to, you headed to bed but only got a few hours of sleep because you were so excited.

The shuttle pulls up at the international gate entry. Even at three forty-five in the morning, LAX is overrun with people. It’s easy to get lost, so Dieter slips his hand into yours, making sure that you’ll stick together.

He can’t sweet-talk the desk agent into switching your seats, but tells him to try his luck with the flight attendants. The plane is boarding in just over two hours, so you have lots of time to kill in the interim. Dieter tracks down the nearest Starbucks. You get a vanilla latte. He gets twelve shots of espresso over ice. It’s his usual order; you often wonder when you go to get coffee with him how he hasn’t died from the adrenaline rush two hundred times over. It’s one of his many Dieterisms as you’ve come to call his more eccentric behaviours.

Before you know it, it’s time to board the plane. You’ve never flown first class before. There’s so much more room, the seats are more comfortable. It doesn’t look like it will be seven hours of pure torture like it usually is in economy. You stop a passing flight attendant. “Is it okay if I sit with my friend?” You sound like a kid.

“Wait until the plane has taken off and the fasten seatbelts light comes off.”

The pilot comes on over the speaker, goes over the safety procedures. The plane takes off smoothly, and before you know it, Dieter’s plopping down in the seat next to you.

“Do you want the window seat? I don’t mind.”

Dieter waves your offer away. “Nah. You can have it if you want.” He leans back in the seat. “I think they’re going to come around with snacks and drinks soon.”

The flight goes smoothly and uneventfully (apart from the dirty look the old lady with the Pomeranian in her lap gives you and Dieter when you’re laughing “too loudly”). Once you’ve eaten, you start to feel drowsy. Dieter is actively fighting sleep. The blankets the airline gave you are soft and cozy. Not as cozy as the man who is sitting next to you. A little rest won’t hurt…

When Dieter wakes up, your head is resting on his shoulder, his head resting on the top of yours. He shakes his head a little, sees how the two of you have been resting. It’s not a new sleeping position for the two of you, but this somehow feels different. There’s an inkling of something new. With a smile, he leans his head back to where it was a minute ago and falls back to sleep.

The flight lands some time later. You wake before Dieter does this time. You’ve been resting against each other. Nothing new, but it makes you feel warm.

It’s a bit of a process, getting through customs and waiting for your bags. The nap on the plane did you good. A lot of good. You know jetlag will sneak up on you sooner or later.

Luggage obtained, you and Dieter make your way through the airport, luggage in hand, knapsacks on your backs. There’s someone waiting for Dieter to drive you and him to the hotel.

You still can’t believe this is real, that you’re in France with Dieter Bravo.

- - - -

The hotel can’t give you your own room, since they are fully booked with the production company and cast of the movie. The best they can do is offer a king room. That’s fine you tell yourself. You’ve shared close sleeping quarters with Dieter before, usually unintentionally, but somehow this seems different.

“I can take the couch,” you offer immediately once you’ve made it to the room.

Dieter shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. I’ve shared beds before. I know you have, too.”

He’s right. You’re just friends. This will be fine.

“Plus, it’s big enough that it’s like we have our own beds anyway.” He tries to ignore the growing feeling of confusion and botherment at this. Has there been a glitch in his brain? There must have been. Or he’s just tired from the flight.

Gratefully, you don’t notice. “You’re right,” you reply. “It’ll be fine. Also, that bed looks super fucking comfortable, like lying on a cloud.”

Dieter grins. “Right? Ugh, I’m just thinking about how nice it’ll be after long shooting days to just collapse into it.”

He flops down on the bed, stretching out with a satisfied groan. He somehow manages to take up half of the bed with his limbs spread out like he’s making a snow angel.

You shove him over, lying down on the bed too. Oh, god. It’s soft.

Dieter’s sunglasses are askew on his face. You lean over and take them off, putting them on you instead. At his exaggerated pout, you give a saccharine sweet smile before pulling the glasses off and putting them on the nightstand. You stretch out your legs. Turning to your side, you see that Dieter is lying on his side facing you, twisting one of his rings around his finger. “Ready for filming?” you ask.

“I think so. Thank fuck it doesn’t start for a few days.” He fights a yawn. “D’you wanna do some sightseeing tomorrow or something?”

“That sounds nice. Apparently this is a very historic part of the country. It dates back really far.”

Dieter frowns. “Isn’t all of Europe dated back really far?” His eyelids are drooping.

The two of you decide to power through and attempt to adjust to France’s time zone. While the meal on the plane was good for plane food, you’re starving. You’re always half-convinced that Dieter is a walking, talking stomach.

Wanting to get into your jammies, you order room service over the room’s iPad, using the English setting. “Maybe I should work on my French while I’m here,” you muse. “Surprise my mom when we get back.”

You have a month and a half at your disposal. a month and a half to unwind and have some time to yourself, to pick yourself back up. Figure things out. Gratefully, you don’t have to do it on your own.

The room service is delivered and you have a small feast on the hotel room floor before attempting to unpack. There is a large wardrobe in addition to a dresser that you share with Dieter. Glaring domesticity aside, it’s a very good setup. While you finish unpacking, Dieter takes a shower.

Getting into your pajamas (stolen from Dieter), you climb into the massive bed and get cozy. You’re mostly passed out by the time Dieter comes out of the bathroom. You vaguely feel the dip of the bed on his side, so far away from your side. The comforter is warm, the pillow plush, the mattress just right. His breathing evens out and lulls you into sleep.

It’s early when you wake up. The sun is just barely making its way over the horizon. You’re wide awake but you’re cozy. Dieter’s shifted in sleep, or maybe you did, because you’ve almost met in the middle. He’s facing you, his hand outstretched. His lips are parted a little bit, enhancing his pout.

Even in sleep, even rumpled like he is now, he’s pretty. You think you can admit that about your friend.

If you listen close enough you think you can hear it drizzling outside. Checking your phone you see that it’s just before seven in the morning. Later than you thought but still early. You are wide awake. Maybe you can just rest. It’s too early to do anything right now. You’ve never done international travel like this before so the time change is going to kick your ass, at least for the first few days. And then you get to relive it all over again when you go home.

Dieter wakes up a half hour or so later and makes the suggestion that you go out for breakfast before doing some sightseeing

- - - -

Three days later, Dieter begins filming. The call time is early; even when he’s trying to be quiet, Dieter doesn’t know how to be anything but loud. It’s as if it’s ingrained into his DNA. You’re used to it from the years of living next door as well as spending a lot of time in his apartment; you just roll back over and go back to sleep.

You were stunned when there was nothing more than a platter of cheese and crackers as a cast social two days after arriving. Thinking that the cast and crew deserved more than just a paltry welcome, you’d asked the director and one of the producers if you could plan the wrap party. It would give you something to do on the days when Dieter was filming. Aimlessness was not a good fit on you, and you’d been wearing it for far too long. They had enthusiastically said yes, and given you the studio’s credit card number. They had the budget for what you had planned.

Dieter shows up at the hair and makeup trailer before shooting, his least favourite part about making a movie. He knows why he has to do it, but he’d prefer not to.

“I’m Kate, your makeup artist-slash-hairstylist for this movie.” Kate is a young woman in her late twenties, maybe a few years younger than him. She’s good-looking, he admits, but he doesn’t feel the need to hit on her as he has done in the past with makeup artists and hair stylists. Her eyes appraise him slowly. She’s checking him out, he realizes.

Dieter doesn’t really respond to her talking. Kate seems shallow and bossy. In a way that he doesn’t like. She takes way too long on his hair, and spends a lot of the time not so subtly flirting with him; he doesn’t respond. He does have to admit, she’s good at making it look appropriate for the movie. Artfully tousled. “Thanks,” he grunts when she lets him go. The old him would have asked her out. Or, more likely, just asked her to sleep with him. He’s not that man anymore, hasn’t been for awhile. It wouldn’t be fair to you, when you’re sharing the room with him. That’s what he tells himself.

Not to mention, he doesn’t gel with her vibe or her personality. No, best to just keep his distance. She’ll get the hint sooner or later.

On his days off filming — or on days where filming starts late or ends early enough — you go on little sightseeing adventures together. They almost, almost, feel like dates. Dieter’s always been a touchy kind of person. You think it might be one of his love languages. You aren’t sure if it’s just Dieter being Dieter, where you are, or something more, but you are starting to feel like more than what you’re supposed to be with him. Especially the past couple of mornings when you had woken up and Dieter, who had started on the other side of the massive king-sized bed, had made his way to your side of the bed in his sleep, apparently needing to be closer to you. You’d woken up these past few mornings with his chest against your back, Dieter sound asleep. One morning when he’d woken up, you’d been facing him on your side. It could have just been your imagination, but you were sure that for a split second, his eyes had flickered down to your lips. And were you dreaming or did he lean in just a fraction for a second before getting up before his call time?

Today, you’re doing a self-guided tour of an old castle from the early Middle Ages, his hand in yours the entire time. At one point, he says something funny. You laugh and he smiles, his eyes crinkling, and he kisses you on the forehead.

“You two make such a cute couple,” says another person on the tour in French. You don’t know enough French to know what she’s saying but understand two, cute and couple and can glean what she’s saying. Not knowing enough to dispute her claim and say that you and Dieter are just friends, despite the glitch in your mind returning and saying that you could be more than that, you just smile and nod politely, if a bit flustered.

Truth of the matter, though, you worry that if you and Dieter do become more than friends, it will be a lopsided love. That you will ultimately end up caring for him more than he would care for you. Or that he would only be with you because it’s easy to, for the sake of convenience. It would never work

You shake your head, trying to clear these intrusive thoughts.

On Dieter’s end, it’s been almost four weeks of filming this movie. Kate still hasn’t picked up the hint that he’s not interested in her. He’s started name-dropping you more and more frequently around her, hoping that she’ll pick up that he’s interested in someone else, interested in you. He’s starting to realize that he maybe doesn’t just want to be friends with you. He once heard that love is friendship on fire. Dieter’s always admired you, your sense of humour, your kindness and empathy for other people. The way you always cheer him on because you’re genuinely happy for his successes and want him to do his best. Never asking for anything in return. It’s everything he admires. He’s never felt this sort of connection to anyone before. Not even Annika, who he had dated for a long time (at least by his standards). He didn’t invite you on this trip to get laid, not at all. Nor had he done it out of pity, like he sometimes worries is what you think. He’d done it because he wanted to do something nice for you. It was never his intention to fall for you, but here he is.

As Dieter is, though, he got a bit stuck in realizing that he’s in love with you. He thinks he’s been in love with you from the beginning, or almost from the beginning. He just got stuck in realizing. It always takes a while for his brain to catch up with what’s happening. But being here, with you, doing all these things, sharing a bed on purpose, has unlodged something in him. He thinks you might feel the same way. At least he hopes that you feel the same way. He knows you’re happy being his friend, maybe that’s all you think this relationship is.

Sooner or later, you’re going to have to deal with this.

- - - -

There’s only one more day of shooting, tomorrow. It’s an early call time. The wrap party is planned and paid for, all ready for tomorrow night. You’ve worked really hard on it. It is not over the top. Just something more than what was originally planned. “Have you ever considered doing event planning?” Dieter had asked when you had put the finishing touches on the plans.

It was something new, but you enjoyed it. It gives a sense of purpose. You’ve always been organized, you like coordinating things like this. “Not until just now,” you’d answered.

You’re sitting on the couch, looking over your plans for the party. Dieter sits next to you and plays with his friendship bracelet. It’s a silly little five-dollar thing, but he loves it. To him it is priceless.

“Why do you still wear that?” you ask, shutting your laptop and placing it on the coffee table.

Dieter looks up from the bracelet. “Because it’s one of my most prized possessions, that’s why. You gave it to me.”

It had been a bit of a gag gift. When you first met, you’d talked about how difficult it was to make friends as an adult. “As a kid,” you’d said, “it’s so easy to make friends. You find someone that you share the same interests in and make friendship bracelets for each other. Boom, bang. Friends. It’s kind of hard to give a friendship bracelet to an adult.”

“Speak for yourself,” Dieter had countered. “If someone gave me a friendship bracelet now, I’d know for sure that we were friends.”

A few months had gone by, you’d forgotten about the conversation until you were out and about and saw them for sale at a vendors’ sale. You’d gotten one for Dieter and given it to him as a belated birthday gift.

That had been four years ago.

“You’re my friend, babe. My best friend,” Dieter says now, licking his lips, bracing himself for something. “But… it’s more than that now, isn’t it?” he asks.

You think you might be going into cardiac arrest. “Um… what?” you ask.

“You know what, honey. I know what, too. I think we both know what’s really happening between us.”

Weakly, not even believing it yourself, you say, “We’re just friends, Dieter.”

Dieter shakes his head, moving closer to you on the sofa. “We’re not just friends and you know it.”

You’re about to say something, but you’re cut off by Dieter’s mouth pressing against yours. You must be dreaming. He swallows the gasp that you let out before you respond to his frankly yearning kiss. Something that you, and evidently he, has wanted for a very long time.

“Dieter,” you whisper when he eventually breaks the kiss for a breath. “Are you–are you saying what I think you are?”

Dieter kisses you again, more sweetly this time around. “I like you,” he murmurs. “And I don’t think friends kiss like that.”

He pulls away from you for a minute, giving you space. You don’t want space. You want him on you. In you. You grasp the collar of his soft, worn-in t-shirt and pull him back, meeting his lips in a kiss that tells him just exactly what you think of his confession.

Dieter pulls you into his lap. You can feel just how much he wants you. The effect you’re having on his body. You would say it’s too soon, but this has been in the making for four years at this point.

Your hands scrabble at his shirt. His hands go up under your shirt, his fingers roaming your back around where your bra should be. His eyes widen when he realizes that you’re not wearing one. “That’s no fair, taking off the bra is one of the best parts about foreplay,” he whines against your neck in between kisses, nibbles, and grazes of his teeth.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you reply, your hand roaming southward. Dieter hisses when your hand makes contact.

There’s no way you can have sex on the couch. You could, but as Dieter says when he takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, “there is a perfectly good, perfectly large bed that we haven’t been putting to proper use.”

Which is how you find yourself spread out on the king-sized bed, Dieter on top of you. His pupils are blown with want for you. He can’t believe this is really happening. Neither can you. His shirt is off. His perpetually rumpled hair is an absolute mess. Your lips are beginning to swell, your soaked underwear a testament to how much you want this man. You almost laugh at yourself for being so incredibly stupid for not seeing or acting on this sooner.

Dieter’s deft fingers pull away your leggings and your panties in one fell swoop, grinning when you’re laid bare for him. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful.” One of his fingers makes his way inside and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head in sheer ecstasy. How is your body going to react when it’s—? You don’t have a chance to finish that thought because he adds another finger. His mouth hovers around your thighs, his lips almost pressing but just barely. You’re already anticipating the beard burn later. And then, after several minutes of teasing, his mouth presses down on you, right where you want it to and you nearly die of pleasure.

Not that you’d ever really given it much thought, but it makes perfect sense that Dieter is a generous lover. He’s been nothing but generous the entire time you’ve known him.

He grunts in satisfaction, his words muffled to the point that you can’t understand them, let alone process what he’s saying. Of course he runs his mouth during sex, even when it can’t be understood.

When he comes up once he’s satisfied with your own satisfaction, he rests his head against your chest. “I feel like this isn’t fair,” you murmur once you find your voice.

He gives a worried frown. “What isn’t fair?”

You gesture to yourself and to him. “I’m naked and you’re still wearing your jammie pants. I feel like there’s an unfairness to this.”

Dieter’s eyes glint. His smile is so bright it’s like he’s being lit from the inside. “All in good time. I’m just letting you catch your breath.”

Sure enough, within a few minutes, even if he doesn’t give you a lot of time, you’re helping him take his pants off, suddenly eternally grateful that there are condoms in the bedside drawers courtesy of the hotel.

Dieter pushes inside of you, biting down gently on your shoulder, and then he starts to move and holy shit, you think you might just die from how good it feels.

“Take what you need,” he gasps between thrusts. “My pretty girl. Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking pretty,” he continues to mutter.

The two of you don’t last long. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of your hips, gasps and grunts and sighs of pleasure, and skin on skin. You suck marks into his neck, not giving a shit at all that his makeup artist is going to have to cover them up tomorrow morning.

“Dieter, I–I–I think I’m close.” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in even more. Hips stutter against each other as Dieter’s movements become less pronounced.

You cry out, burying your face in the crook of his neck, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck as you reach that peak that you created together at the same time as Dieter does.

Sweat-glistened and delightfully sore, you start to laugh.

“What’s so funny, beautiful?” asks Dieter.

“We are such dumbasses for not doing this sooner.” You don’t say anything else, not daring to jinx it. Tonight feels impossible, like a dream you don’t want to wake up from.

Dieter strokes your shoulder, a teasing glint in his eye that you can’t see. “Oh, don’t worry about that, baby. I fully intend on making up for lost time.”

- - - -

The alarm goes off far too soon. You are warm, safe in Dieter’s arms. If it weren’t from the ache between your legs, you’d say that the events of last night — and twice again in the early hours of the morning—were a dream. You moan in protest and bury your face in his chest

“Baby,” Dieter groans. “I gotta get up.”

You tilt your head up, meeting his lips in a sleepy kiss. He sighs into it. “I gotta go, babe. But I’ll see you at the wrap party. There’s something that I gotta talk to you about.”

The old Dieter would have just assumed that you were together after having sex. You deserve more than that. He wants to ask you properly to be his girlfriend, wants to ask you out on a date that’s actually a date. Preferably while you’re still here in France, the most romantic country in the world. Not much can top that for a first official date.

You’re still too sleepy to respond with more than a, “Mmmkay.” Dieter kisses you again and then, very begrudgingly, gets up for the last day of filming.

Kate notices his hickies almost immediately. She narrows her eyes. “Hmmm,” she mutters to herself. Dieter’s still caught up from last night and what happened that he neither notices nor cares, too excited at the prospect of asking you to be his girlfriend properly.

You spend most of the day doing final preparations for the wrap party, smiling every time you think about last night. You hope whatever Dieter wants to talk to you about is good news.

Filming wraps early in the afternoon. You’re out doing errands when Dieter returns to the hotel to take a nap, shower, and change. You left a little note for him on the pillow telling him that you will see him this evening.

The party is in full swing when Dieter arrives. You’ve done such a good job of organizing it, not that he doubted you for a second. He sees you at the buffet table. You excuse yourself from the conversation, heading towards the washroom. Before he can follow you, he’s intercepted.

Kate stands in front of him. She’s wearing a glittering black dress and a look of determination.

“Kate,” he greets politely. “How are you?”

Kate skips the niceties. “Dieter, I’m tired of being subtle, I guess you prefer more upfront than what I’ve been giving.”

Dieter’s insides twist with dread and discomfort. “Kate, I’m sorry if—”

She barrels over his unnecessary apology: “You’re cute, Dieter. I think we would look really great together.” That’s not presumptuous at all, Dieter thinks sarcastically. “So I think we should cut the bullshit. You didn’t need to make me jealous with those tacky hickies this morning. I say we just go for it, get to know each other outside of the makeup trailer.” Kate rests a hand on his arm, in an attempt to be seductive.

Dieter feels absolutely nothing. Removing her hand from his arm gently but firmly, he says, “I’m flattered. But I’m not interested. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, even though I’m pretty sure I’ve been clear from the beginning.”

Kate wasn’t expecting that. She blinks. “I see. So then, who gave you those?”

Dieter smiles and turns around to where you’ve returned. You look confused to see him with Kate. “See that beautiful woman right over there? She’s the one who planned all this. She’s also my best friend and the love of my life. She makes me so fucking happy. Happier than I probably have any right being. But that’s okay. I love her. You’re… a nice-looking girl, I’m sure you’ll make someone very happy. It’s just not me. Sorry,” he says, not sounding or feeling at all apologetic.

He leaves her standing there, gaping at the notion that someone would turn her down.

“Hey, baby,” Dieter greets you, kissing your forehead. “You did such a great job with this party, I’m so proud of you.”

You beam at him. “Thanks, Dee. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Dieter doesn’t think that’s true; you could do anything. “Um. What was that all about?” you ask, pointing over at who you’re pretty sure is the makeup artist, who’s now talking to one of the other cast members, a barely stifled look of incredulity and annoyance on her face. You’d been momentarily insecure when you came back from fixing your dress, that what Dieter wanted to tell you was that last night had been a one-time thing. But then Dieter looked at you like you were the sun and all your insecurities had melted away.

“Oh. That. I was telling her about you and how I’m in love with you.”

You have to blink a few times before a coy grin grows on your lips. “Is that all?” you ask.

Dieter grins, then turns serious, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s all I told her. But there’s more I want to tell you. I, um,” he clears his throat, “I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to make this a real thing. I know I’m not the best at this, but I want to make it work with you. I also want to take you on a date. A proper one where we both know it is one. What do you say?” he asks, heart in his throat.

You gaze at him wonderingly for a moment before you take his hand in yours, lean up and kiss him.

“Is—is that a yes?” Dieter asks nervously.

With a contagious smile, you nod. “Yes, Dieter. Yes.”

You kiss him again, beyond grateful that you were lucky enough to fall in love with your weird, beautiful, wonderful best friend. This isn’t a glitch, this is meant to be; you were always meant to be more than just friends and you couldn’t be more lucky that it’s with him.

The End

--- taglist in reblog.

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #my fic #my writing

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johannestevans · 1 year

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Hey! I have personally really enjoyed all the guides you have written about cruising, Grindr and your other sex guides. Would you be interested (or maybe I have completely missed this) about writing a guide to sex as a disabled person? I am personally very interested in sex but scared to join the party and cruising culture because of my disability, chronic pain and discomfort (and my questioning to how I can keep covid safe in hook up culture).

Hi there!

This was a complicated ask for me to receive, I think, because it made me very happy to be asked and that someone is asking and feels empowered to ask, but also I just don't feel I'm equipped to answer it - I think that in the past year or two I've been unpacking a lot of feelings about disability and particularly the ways in which I mask or just don't openly discuss disability with ableds and randoms, there's a lot of old anxiety and pain there for me that I'm just not done working with.

Basically, I'm not equipped, I don't think, to write more extensively about cruising and casual sex with disability in mind as I'm exploring it, especially as I've become a lot more disabled in recent years.

I will say that like... For me, what's been most positive in my sex life, and indeed my life as a whole, is being in community with other disabled people, and sex with other disabled people, particularly those who either have similar disabilities to my own and/or who have a lot of experience with others who are similarly disabled, means that they're going to be more aware of my potential limitations.

For me, being autistic and also having various issues - arthritis, some old injuries probably as a result of hypermobility or whatever, my asthma - means that I'm often not very cognizant of my limitations until I reach those limitations exactly, and then I'm immediately like, okay, I have to stop RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW.

With other disabled people, autistic or otherwise, I don't have an issue tapping out like that - and with partners who aren't physically disabled or chronically ill, but are still autistic or otherwise neurodivergent, that's grand. But with like, normie hookups on Grindr? That's a lot more complex.

Like, I frequently don't use words like "arthritis" or similar, I might mention that I have an injury, but normally just that I prefer certain positions, until after we've had sex because of the ways in which people treat and desexualise disabled bodies - a while back I had a hook up, mentioned my arthritis after fucking, and he was immediately like, "Oh, there's this crystal healer on YouTube" etc lmao.

So yeah, I would recommend seeking community with other disabled people if you can - a lot of BDSM spaces and broader BDSM communities tend to have a lot of disabled people in them. Obviously a lot of the older veterans in these communities will become more disabled as they grow older, and so elder members (as in actually old and elderly, not Tumblr's definition of "elder" that's like 30+ lmao) of kink and queer communities, but also disabled people for various reasons are often drawn to kink and power play and different forms of sex work, and subsequently our expertise shows up a lot in these communities. You can always enter these spaces for the social benefits even if you're not interested in or able for harder play, etc.

One benefit about these is that there'll frequently be more online spaces or smaller, more limited munches - I obviously can't promise that people in your area will definitely be covid safe or even super covid aware, but you should at the very least be able to check these boundaries online before you approach them in person, or if you approach them at all, you know?

I did an interview with Transpired Media a few weeks ago, and part of mine and Anonsee Maytrix's discussion was about our respective experiences being desexualised as disabled trans people in queer communities, and while I don't have any more extended guides or similar, this video might scratch a bit of an itch?

youtube

But yeah, I just don't feel like I have more valuable advice or useful input, I'm afraid, as I'm still exploring my own feelings and limitations myself other than just... going stealth about being disabled.

I'd definitely encourage people to put their own resources in the replies and reblogs if they do desire!

#musings #anonymous

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