#and this is not to say at all that romance is the only way to have 'real' love or anything

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how it should be. 

your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years. 

most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.

getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour — or lack thereof, you suppose. he can’t taste much, anymore; one too many curses digested. or so he says.

this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone — a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.

(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)

”would you like me to make us some tea?”

when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.

but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”

a low hum. he’s still looking at you. ”coffee?”

”the sweets are more than enough.”

this time, a smile, one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. geto gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table — studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen. 

”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch, exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”

you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.

being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense, to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.

and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse. 

(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)

so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before — beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance; if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by. 

you wonder if that’s why he says it.

”say, do you hate me?”

you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking the illusion of peace before you can find any solace in it. 

you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated. 

”do you really want to have this conversation now?”

”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”

you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”

a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”

you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry. 

”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”

”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?” 

another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread; any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.

and, as always, getō beats you to the punch. 

”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes, a flutter of his lashes, and inhales a breath. ”— because i’ll keep waiting.”

for a second, you consider not taking the bait. 

… then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, just resting his eyes.

”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.

”for you to love me again.”

…

getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired. 

(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)

when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.

(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)

quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.

you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.

but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.

”… as if i ever stopped.”

silence.

you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby. 

getō says your name.

it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.

”will you look at me?”

it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way. 

and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;

”.. no.”

”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue, lightly amused. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”

you bite down on your lip.

a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — because it’s already set in stone.

”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”

…

for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly. 

but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading. 

this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.

and it’s over. 

you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.

because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.

you never bothered to get rid of it.

(that’s your sin.)

getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down.

everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.

he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter. 

(he’s yours, again, and you’re his.

you can’t stop crying.)

”… i’m sorry.”

in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.

it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him. 

you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.

you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.

he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game. 

(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.) 

#geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto angst #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x you #getou suguru x y/n

[emjayewrites]

All For Us (Lewis Hamilton SMAU)

SUMMARY: Lewis Hamilton secretly dates an older woman with a daughter and the public slowly starts connecting the dots. [smau w/narrative]

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x influencer!OC Bree King (faceclaim is Sasha Exeter)

WARNINGS: verbal/emotional abuse from an ex, drama, age gap romance (Bree is 2 years older than Lewis), formula one b.s., pre-established relationship, step-daddy Lewis. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!

TAGLIST: @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @jasmindaughteroftheworld @motheroffae @hrlzy @xoscar03

A/N: Read the warnings!! This oneshot may be triggering!! Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

Lewis grinned as Bree's face appeared on his FaceTime screen. "There she is! My favorite lady."

"I should hope that's still the case," Bree teased with a wink before turning her head. "Sloane, baby, come say hi to Lewis!"

A moment later, Bree's eight-year-old daughter popped into view, her face lighting up with excitement. "Lewis! Hi!!"

"Hey there, Sloane!" Lewis' smile widened. "Having fun at camp?"

The little girl nodded vigorously. "It's so cool! We went canoeing yesterday and I caught the biggest frog ever!"

"No way, that's amazing!" Lewis played along. "You'll have to show me next time I see you. Which is actually why I FaceTimed..." He glanced at Bree, who gave him an encouraging nod before he proceeded. "I was wondering if you and your mom are still planning to come to my race in Montreal next week?" he asked Sloane. "It'll be my last chance to see you before you go back to school."

"YES!!" Sloane pumped her fist in the air emphatically. "We're definitely coming! I can't wait!"

Bree chuckled fondly and ruffled her daughter's hair. As her eyes met Lewis again over the video call, her expression was full of meaning.

Though keeping their relationship under wraps wasn't easy, moments like this made it worth it to Lewis. Having this slice of domestic bliss, however ephemeral, grounded him in a way he never could have imagined before meeting Bree and her daughter. It was a small price to pay for the unexpected joy of finally finding someone who knew the real him - flaws and all.

Their relationship was still so new, barely six months old, but he felt more at peace with Bree than he could have imagined. Bree understood the punishing demands his career brought in a way no one else could. With her own entrepreneurial spirit and drive, she never asked him to compromise his ambition. If anything, she helped stoke it.

Yes, the secrecy could be tedious at times. But Lewis didn't mind. After a lifetime in the spotlight, he relished having this one thing that was just for him and Bree. At least for now.

Race day arrived and Bree made her way through the hustle and bustle of the Montreal Grand Prix paddock. Despite Sloane's excitement in the lead-up, her father had pulled one of his typical selfish moves at the last minute by insisting on taking her to the zoo that day instead.

Bree felt that familiar pang of disappointment mixed with resignation. Her ex had been more of a sperm donor than an actual parent to their daughter from the day Sloane was born. He only seemed to appear when it was convenient for him, not Sloane.

Pushing those negative thoughts aside, Bree focused on the thrill of being here to support Lewis. As an influencer, she had initially been given paddock access through her partnership with Peroni, but over the last few months, as her relationship with Lewis intensified, racing had become personal.

"You must be Bree!" She spun around at the greeting to see a tall, stocky man striding towards her, hand outstretched. Spinz stood around six-foot-three and was built like a linebacker, with a lightly tanned skin tone. His smile was kind and friendly as he enthusiastically shook her hand. "I'm Daniel, but you can call me Spinz."

"It's so great to finally meet you! Lewis has told me loads about you," Bree mentioned happily.

"Likewise," Spinz replied genuinely. "I've heard so many stories, it's nice to finally put a face to the name."

Lewis and she had been intentionally slow about intermingling friends and family. They didn't want to rush things before they were both exclusive and comfortable, yet now that Sloane had grown so fond of Lewis, it felt right to begin that integration.

"Can't believe my man is finally bringing his girlfriend around the paddock!" Spinz continued, laughing delightedly. "Bout time, if you ask me." This emitted a chuckle from Bree. "Well, since you're finally here, allow me to give you the grand tour," Spinz offered, gesturing for her to follow him. "Lewis is still doing his pre-race routine, but I can show you around until he's free."

Bree nodded eagerly, falling into step beside the towering Spinz as he led them through the controlled chaos of the paddock. He pointed out the various team garages, the hospitality suites, and regaled her with funny behind-the-scenes stories from past races.

Despite the unfamiliar environment, Bree instantly felt at ease with Spinz's warm presence and easy banter. She could understand why he and Lewis had been mates for so long. There was an affable authenticity to him that put her instantly at ease.

"And this...is the sacred ground," Spinz proclaimed dramatically as they walked inside the Mercedes garage. "Though I suppose for you, it's more like hallowed ground at this point, eh?" He elbowed her teasingly.

Bree laughed, shoving him back playfully. "That's one way to put it, I suppose. I have to admit, seeing this side of his life up close is still taking some getting used to."

Before Spinz could respond, a familiar voice spoke out. "Hi, baby."

Bree shifted her gaze to see Lewis walking over to them, clad in his racing suit. His eyes crinkled behind his sunglasses as he pulled her into an embrace. She melted into his arms, inhaling his familiar warm scent.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, gorgeous. Pre-race craziness, you know how it is," Lewis murmured, lowering his voice. "But I'm all yours now."

He leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. Even with the smile on his face, Bree could sense that something seemed a bit off with him.

"How are you?" Bree asked gently.

Lewis let out an exasperated sigh. "Comme ci, comme ça." He made a wavering 'so-so' gesture with his hand to emphasize his point.

Bree's expression was knowing. "Ah, I see." With a slow blink, she decided not to pry further for now.

"Let's not worry about that now, okay?" Lewis gave her a lopsided grin, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Everything good with you? How was the tour with Spinz?"

"Great, Spinz was awesome. Thank you again for the tour," Bree replied, smiling at Lewis' friend.

Spinz waved it off. "No problem at all. I'll leave you two to it. Lew, I'll catch up with you later?"

"Of course, man." Lewis pulled Spinz in for one of their signature dap-up handshake hugs before his friend departed.

"Now that that's out of the way..." Lewis trailed off, snaking his arms around Bree's waist and pulling her close. "I can finally kiss you like I've been wanting to."

"Oh, so it's like that, Sir Hamilton?" Bree teased, removing his sunglasses to gaze into his warm brown eyes. "There, that's better. I can actually see those pretty eyes of yours now."

Lewis batted his lashes exaggeratedly. "You like what you see, huh? I could get used to all this flattery."

With that, he leaned in and captured her lips in a lingering, tender kiss, the troubles of the earlier melting away as he lost himself in her being.

Bree paced near the gate, phone pressed to her ear as she listened to her ex-husband's latest tirade.

"You're really going to let some race car driver try to one-up me as a father figure for Sloane? Come on, Bree. This guy is just a fling - he'll get bored of playing house eventually and leave you high and dry."

She bristled at his condescending tone, upset rising in her chest. Before she could snap back, her gaze landed on Sloane sitting nearby. The little girl was utterly engrossed, flipping through a "Formula One for Kids" book in preparation for their time at Silverstone.

The sight of her daughter's pure, unbridled excitement instantly calmed Bree's anger. She took a steadying breath before responding.

"You know what, you're right - you shouldn't be threatened because unlike you, Lewis actually shows up for Sloane," she stated evenly. "He's been more of a parent to her in six months than you have her whole life."

There was an indignant sputtering on the other end, but Bree kept talking before he could interject.

"Don't project your guilt about being an absentee dad onto my relationship. This isn't about you. It's about giving our daughter some stability and male role model who wants to be present."

The overhead speaker crackled to life, an announcement requesting they begin boarding their flight to Paris. Bree knew she needed to hang up now if they wanted to make it.

"I'm done wasting my time on this. We're boarding now. Maybe next time you can join us instead of just criticizing from the sidelines." She ended the call with a tap before he could respond.

Turning to Sloane, Bree plastered on a brilliant smile, letting the contentment of this new chapter wash over her.

"You ready for our adventure, baby girl?"

Sloane beamed up at her mother, curls bouncing as she nodded enthusiastically. "So ready! This is gonna be the best vacation ever!"

As they joined the line to board, hand-in-hand, Bree felt a swell of gratitude. Her daughter deserved all the happiness in the world - and she'd do whatever it took to provide it, with or without Sloane's father.

-------------------------------------------------

"No, no, you've got the lyrics all wrong!" Sloane collapsed in a fit of giggles as Lewis dramatically belted out his very off-key rendition of "We Don't Talk About Bruno" from Encanto, which was playing on the TV.

"What are you talking about? This is exactly how it goes!" Lewis protested, bopping around their hotel suite and encouraging Sloane to sing and dance along with him.

Bree watched the scene unfold with a content smile, sipping her coffee as her boyfriend and daughter's musical silliness filled the room. It had been a long but utterly joyful day exploring the magic of Paris together.

As the next song from the movie came on, Lewis grabbed Sloane's hands and started twirling her around in an impromptu dance number. Sloane squealed with laughter, trying her best to follow his goofy choreography.

Bree watched the scene unfold with a content smile, sipping her coffee as her boyfriend and daughter's musical silliness filled the room. It had been a long but utterly joyful day exploring the magic of Paris together.

Despite having to attend a couple of fashion shows, Lewis insisted on making the most of their time together. He had kicked things off with a surprise shopping trip that morning to Dior, allowing Bree and Sloane to play dress-up before walking away with an entirely new boutique-worthy wardrobe.

From there, it was on to take in the splendor of Parisian culture and sights. They strolled along the Champs-Élysées, stopping to snack on crispy crepes and macarons. Lewis delighted in teaching Sloane a few French phrases, though she quickly realized he was cheekily mispronouncing things.

As evening fell, Lewis whisked them away to a breathtaking circus show at Cirque Phénix. Sloane's eyes were saucers the entire time as she watched the daring acrobats and exotic animals perform. When it was over, she kept asking "How did they DO that?!" in awed tones.

Finally, they capped the night off with a decadent multi-course dinner at an acclaimed family-owned bistro. Even Sloane was lured into trying cuisine well beyond her usual mac-and-cheese comfort zone.

Now, lounging in their luxury hotel after baths, it was the perfect way to wind down after a memory-making day. Lewis intentionally kept the mood light and fun, perhaps sensing Bree needed a break from any lingering emotional fallout after her ex's cruel words.

Lewis and Sloane collapsed in a giggling heap on the suite's plush rug, exhausted but elated. Pressing kisses to Sloane's flushed cheeks, Lewis grinned contentedly.

"Best day ever, right team?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

As the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend approached, Lewis became adamant that Bree and Sloane finally meet his family. They would all be in attendance on Sunday to cheer him on at his beloved home race.

"It's time," he stated firmly one night as they relaxed together in bed. "You two are the most important people in my life now. I want my family to really know you both."

Bree felt a flutter of nerves, knowing this was a big step. In all his years as a global celebrity, Lewis had only ever brought one other woman home to meet his parents and siblings - his ex-girlfriend from years ago. There hadn't been anyone serious enough since then to warrant those introductions, until Bree came along.

Saturday night arrived, and Bree smoothed her hands down the summer dress she had carefully selected. She caught a glimpse of her anxious expression in the mirror and exhaled slowly.

Get it together, she scolded herself.

So what if she was a few years older than Lewis, and a single mom at that? His family seemed warm and supportive based on what little she knew. Surely they wouldn't judge her too harshly, right?

The sudden image of them dismissing her as some gold-digging cougar flashed through Bree's mind before she could stop it. She shook her head firmly. Those were her own insecurities talking, not reality.

"You ready, gorgeous?" Lewis' voice pulled her from her reverie. He stood in the doorway, Sloane's little hand clasped securely in his own.

Bree managed a tremulous smile and nodded. "As I'll ever be. Let's do this."

They made their way to the private dining room at Dishoon's, where Lewis' family awaited. The moment they entered, multiple pairs of eyes widened almost comically at the picture before them - Lewis holding Sloane's hand while his other arm wrapped protectively around Bree's waist.

Bree felt her cheeks warm as the hushed murmurs started. Lewis simply grinned, surveying the room with an almost smug satisfaction.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet the two leading ladies in my life..." he began by way of introduction. "This is Bree and Sloane."

What followed was a cheerful commotion of hugs, back slaps and well-wishes as Lewis deftly made the rounds. To Bree's relief, his family seemed just as warm and gregarious as he had described.

If anything, they seemed impressed by her vibrant spirit and career accomplishments. Lewis' father in particular was delighted to discover Bree's Caribbean heritage, insisting they were practically "family already."

At one point, Lewis was gently pulled aside by his mother, Carmen. Concern furrowed the older woman's brow as she studied her son intently.

"So...what do you think of her, Mum?" Lewis asked almost shyly.

Carmen's expression softened as she glanced over at where Bree and Nicola were giggling together. "I think...I haven't seen you look this happy and fully yourself in a long time, sweetie."

She reached up to cup Lewis' cheek, her eyes shining with emotion. "That girl clearly adores you. And you've already taken her little one into your heart as well."

Lewis' smile was beatific as he covered his mother's hand with his own. "She's the one, Mum. I'm going to marry her someday."

Carmen arched an eyebrow, though her tone remained gentle. "Are you ready for that? To be a father to that little girl, and take on all those responsibilities?"

Lewis didn't hesitate. "More than ready," he stated with conviction. "Bree and Sloane...they're my world now. I can't imagine my life without them in it."

Pulling his mother into a firm embrace, Lewis felt his heart swell almost to bursting. For so many years, this kind of profound contentment had eluded him despite all his success. But somehow, fate had brought these two incredible ladies into his life. And he would spend every day showing them how indescribably grateful he was.

As they prepared for their upcoming trip to Grenada, articles started appearing in The Sun and The Daily Mail hinting that Lewis was dating Bree. Twitter was going crazy, with Lewis' massive fandom mostly showing support, especially after photos and videos surfaced of him with Sloane at the Silverstone race weekend. Sloane had been put 'in charge' of caring for Lewis' beloved English bulldog, Roscoe, and both she and the dog were practically attached to Lewis' hip the entire time.

Meanwhile, Sloane's father was up in arms once more about the apparent relationship. Bree's phone rang with the sperm donor himself on the other line.

"How dare you let that race car driver get so close to my child!" he yelled. "He thinks he can just swoop in and play dad now?"

"I mean someone has to do it," Bree muttered under her breath.

"I'm going to sue for full custody if you keep letting that man around my daughter!" Sloane's father shouted over the phone. "You're just a useless whore letting any man walk all over you!"

It was at that moment that Lewis came walking into the kitchen, having just finished playing in the backyard with Sloane. He immediately sensed the tension on Bree's face.

"Give me the phone," Lewis said firmly, holding his hand out.

Bree shook her head, not wanting to subject him to her ex's vitriol. But then the man's voice came through again.

Lewis' jaw clenched and he commanded again, "The phone, Bree. Now."

Reluctantly, she passed it over, her eyes apologetic. Lewis gave her a reassuring nod before putting the phone to his ear. "Who the fuck do you think you are, speaking to her like that?" he said sternly.

"Who do YOU think you are?" the man retorted. "You have no right getting cozy with my kid!"

Lewis' expression hardened. "I care deeply about both Bree and Sloane," he stated firmly. "And I'll be damned if I let you disrespect them like this."

"You think you can just insert yourself into my daughter's life?" Sloane's father sneered. "Playing father figure and getting handsy with her mother? Over my dead fuckin' body."

She opened her mouth to let loose a blistering retort, but Lewis squeezed her shoulder lightly.

"Listen here, mate," Lewis' voice was low but resonant with conviction. "I love that little girl as if she were my own flesh and blood. Sloane is everything to me, to us. And I'll be damned if you try to keep us apart with your selfishness and toxic presence."

Bree's breath caught at the fierce protectiveness in Lewis' words. She covered his hand with her own, lending him her strength.

On the other end, Sloane's father sputtered indignantly before finding his voice again. "You arrogant prick! You can't just—"

"That's enough." Lewis's words sliced through the man's tirade like a whip. "Your disrespect ends now. And if you continue speaking to Bree this way, you'll never see Sloane again."

There was a pause on the other end. "Is that a threat?" Sloane's father spat.

"No," Lewis said coldly. "It's a promise." He disconnected the call and turned his full attention to Bree, wrapping his arms around her firmly. "How long has he been talking to you like that, love?"

Bree let out a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace. "Not long...just when we started getting serious."

Lewis scoffed, rolling his eyes at her ex's audacity. The man had been absent for most of Sloane's life, and now that another man was stepping up, he wanted to play father?

"Next time he does that, record it," Lewis instructed. "Take it to your lawyers. I don't want that piece of shit thinking he can verbally abuse you however he pleases. He's going to fuck around and end up in a ditch somewhere if he keeps going down this road."

Bree searched his eyes intently. "You would...kill for me? For us?"

"Yes." Lewis met her gaze unflinchingly. "I'd do anything for you and Sloane. Anything at all."

The fierceness in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word.

-------------------------------------------------

Bree sighed contentedly as she gazed out at the pristine Grenadian beach. So much had happened so quickly - meeting Lewis' friends and family, being accepted into their fold almost instantly alongside Sloane, yet it all felt so natural, like the missing pieces finally clicking into place.

Her eyes shielded from the brilliant sun, she watched as Lewis chased the waves with Sloane, both of them shrieking with laughter. He looked utterly gorgeous with his toned, tattooed physique glistening with saltwater, the picture-perfect image of a doting father. The idea of giving Sloane a sibling, with Lewis as the dad, sounded unexpectedly appealing. Though she had a few eggs frozen, she wondered if pregnancy at her age would be difficult, but as scary as that thought was, she couldn't fathom being with anyone else. Their seven month relationship felt more profound than any bond she'd ever known.

Down the beach, Lewis was helping Sloane construct an elaborate sandcastle, patting the wet sand into turrets.

"Lewis?" Sloane piped up suddenly.

"Yes, princess?"

"Do you love my mom?"

He smiled warmly. "Yes, I do. Very much. And I love you too."

Sloane beamed, delighted by his answer. "Will you marry my mom then? My parents were married but then they got divorced."

Lewis' heart melted at her hopeful expression. "You want me to make an honest woman out of your mum?"

She nodded vigorously. "I just want her to be happy."

"I promise I'll do everything I can to make you both happy," he vowed. "But would it be okay with you, if I married your mum?"

"Duh!" Sloane rolled her eyes dramatically. "I already think of you as my bonus dad."

Lewis felt his throat tighten with emotion at Sloane's words. This amazing little girl and her mother had utterly stolen his heart.

Gently, he pulled Sloane into a hug, resting his chin atop her head. "You know I love you like you're my own daughter, right? You and your mum are everything to me."

Sloane nodded against his chest. "I know. That's why you should marry her." She pulled back to look up at him with those big, innocent eyes. "Will you be my dad for real then?"

"Of course, princess," Lewis murmured, brushing the sandy hair from her face. "If your mum will have me, I'd be honored to be your dad in every way that matters."

Sloane grinned, throwing her little arms around his neck excitedly. Down the beach, Bree watched the tender scene with a wistful smile. She could clearly see the love between Lewis and her daughter - it was undeniable.

As if he could sense her eyes on him, Lewis glanced over and raised a hand in a beckoning wave. Bree rose fluidly to her feet and made her way over, sandals dangling from one hand.

"Everything okay over here?" she asked lightly as she approached.

Lewis stood, pulling Bree flush against his side with his free arm. "More than okay," he replied, dropping a kiss on her salty hair. "We're building a sandcastle estate and could use the extra hands, right Sloane?" Sloane was too busy packing buckets full of wet sand into elaborate castle molds to answer and Lewis shrugged. "Alrighty then, let's get to work."

As they worked together under the warm sun, Bree couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments of simple joy with the little family she created.

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was in full swing, and Lewis was basking in the excitement of being publicly "Instagram official" with Bree. He had Bree by his side, and he was so happy to be able to publicly show off their relationship.

It wasn't that he cared what anyone else thought - Lewis had never been one to seek approval or validation from others. But having Bree by his side made everything feel more real, more solid. She was his rock, his anchor in this wild world of racing. These last few months, although crazy at times, were the best memories to experience with Bree.

And she looked stunning as always. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves and her fitted red dress hugged her curves in all the right places. She was by Lewis' side through all the glitzy festivities and parties surrounding the race weekend, including the launch of his Almave pop-up bar. With Sloane spending the weekend with Bree's mother, it was a kid-free getaway, and he intended to take full advantage.

He knew Bree's ex-husband would be fuming seeing pictures of them together online, but Lewis didn't give two flying fucks about him anymore. He was focused solely on Bree and the profound happiness she brought him. Bree's arm was looped through his as they made their way through the crowded VIP party for the race sponsors. He greeted familiar faces with warmth and charm, introducing her to everyone he knew.

"You're a natural at this," Lewis remarked as they headed towards the bar for some much-needed drinks.

Bree laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "Please, I'm just winging it."

He shook his head in mock disapproval as they approached the bar. "Don't sell yourself short," he said seriously before turning to order their drinks.

_____________________________________

After dinner one evening at their hotel's high-end restaurant, fans swarmed Lewis for autographs as they exited. "You're a lucky man," one told him, eyeing Bree appreciatively. "She's gorgeous."

Lewis' arm tightened around her waist. "I know," he said simply, pride warming his tone.

Back in their suite, they came together in a heated clash of lips and roving hands, shedding clothes as they stumbled towards the bedroom. Bree reveled in the hard planes of Lewis' body, tracing the lines of his tattoos as he worshipped her with his mouth.

He lifted her up effortlessly and carried her to bed, laying her down gently before joining on top of her, settling between her legs. Their bodies fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces as they moved together in a rhythm that felt almost too familiar now.

Every time they made love was like a brand new experience for them both. They never grew tired of exploring each other's bodies or finding new ways to pleasure one another.

In between stolen kisses and whispered declarations of love, they lost themselves completely in each other until they reached that explosive climax. Afterwards, they lay sated and tangled in the plush hotel linens. Bree traced idle patterns across Lewis' chest as he tucked her against his side.

"Have you thought about getting married again?" he asked quietly.

Bree's head whipped up in surprise. "Here? In Vegas?"

Lewis chuckled, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "No, love. No offense to others, but I could never get married here. I meant...in a year or two, maybe. With me."

Her breath caught at the meaningful weight behind his words. "I...actually think about that a lot," she admitted shyly. "I can see us having a future together."

Warmth bloomed in Lewis' eyes. "You can?"

Bree nodded, feeling herself get swept up in the thrilling certainty of what she felt for this man. "Yes. A real future - marriage, forever."

Lewis looked utterly overjoyed as he cupped her face tenderly. "Okay then...future Lady Hamilton."

A startled laugh bubbled up from Bree's lips. "Lady Hamilton? Is that what I'll be since you're Sir Lewis?"

"Precisely." His grin was terribly smug. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"It sounds like some character from Bridgerton!" she giggled, swatting his chest playfully.

Lewis joined in her mirth, nodding wholeheartedly in agreement. "I can see the resemblance."

Bree's laughter slowly faded as she gazed at the man she loved with every fiber of her being.

Her future husband - it had a deliciously appealing ring to it.

The End.....or is it?

#all for us #sir lewis hamilton #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x oc #f1 x reader

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "helloooo! can you write something about reader suspecting paige and azzi’s friendship to be more than a friendship (r and paige are a situationship or sum like that) and just paige reassuring her and saying that she has eyes only for her etc… (paige is literally obsessed with r)? thank you so much 💖💖💖💖💖"

─ word count | 1.3k

─ warnings | hurt to comfort, paige being sassy, reassurance and so much cute fluffy, a singular kiss

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

YOU AND PAIGE had been friends for a while now, but it was just recently you'd been friends... and a little more.

It was something new, something fun and something secret. The only person who knows was KK only because she'd walked in on the two of you kissing, and now she swears she's "traumatized."

The secret relationship (of some sorts) between you and Paige added an exhilarating edge to your friendship. It was a thrill, the stolen glances, the secretive rendezvous, the whispered conversations laden with double meanings. You found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that went beyond friendship, yet you both reveled in the secretive nature of your relationship.

KK's discovery of your secret sent a ripple of panic through both of you at first. But unsurprisingly, she was more supportive than expected, despite her initial shock. After the initial awkwardness wore off, she became your confidante, the one person you could trust with your affair. She teased you both mercilessly, of course, but it was all in good fun.

But beneath the excitement, there was also a hint of panic. Keeping your newfound romance a secret added an element of danger, a thrill that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The fear of being discovered lurked in the background, heightening every stolen moment and making each encounter feel all all the more precious.

Yet despite the risks, the connection between you and Paige only seemed to grow stronger. The shared laughter, the stolen kisses, the quiet moments of intimacy — they all served to deepen the bond between you, creating a private world that was uniquely yours.

But of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing.

──

"What do you mean?" Paige's tone had an annoyed edge to it as she sent you a glance. She pulled off a side of her headphones as she kept her eyes glued on the computer screen.

You sighed exasperatedly, sitting up on her bed as you sent her a glare. "What do you think I mean?"

Paige hated when you spoke like that, so secretive and cryptic, like you wanted her to say the wrong thing. She liked things laid out plain and simple, while you preferred to dance around topics, especially ones that felt too vulnerable.

"I don't know, that's why I asked." Paige's voice didn't soften as she spoke, her eyes glancing at you every once in a while. She just had the most tiring practices and the last thing she wanted to do was argue with you.

You huffed, feeling frustrated. "I feel like Azzi has a crush on you or something. I see the way she looks at you, it's like when I look at you — all heart eyes, and shit."

Paige's lips curved into a smirk. "Aww, are you saying you have heart eyes for me?"

"I'm being serious, P." You were frustrated. You hated when you felt insecure, especially in relationships. While Paige never gave you any reason to doubt her, she was just naturally enticing and that's what pulled you to her in the first place.

But that's also why others were so captivated by her. The looks she gets, the way people spoke about her and now the whole TikTok obsession wasn't helping. You hated it — you wanted everyone to know that she was yours, and vice versa.

"Okay, okay." Paige's expression was still very much amused as she glanced toward you. "You know me and Azzi are just friends, we're just really close. I promise you, I'd know if she had a crush on me."

"I have eyes, Paige." You shot back, frustration bubbling in your voice.

You couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity gnawing at you, no matter how much you trusted Paige. The thought of someone else vying for her attention filled you with a sense of unease that you couldn't shake. You also knew that there was still that boundary, you weren't her girlfriend and had no valid reason for you to be jealous.

Paige's eyes widened at your tone. You never called her just by her name, it was some kind of nickname or pet name. She sighed as she pulled her headset off and set it down, turning to face you.

"Hey," Paige began gently, reaching out to take your hand in hers. "You have to believe me when I say there's nothing going on between me and Azzi. She's just a really good friend and she's not into me, and even if she is,"

She paused as she shook her head in amusement at the mere thought. "I don't want her, I want you."

You sighed, still feeling frustrated. "I want to believe you, P. I really do. But it's hard, you know? Seeing how close you two are, and... and knowing that I don't have any claim over you."

She squeezed your hand reassuringly, offering you a small smile. "I know it's not easy, especially when we haven't defined what we are yet. But that doesn't change how I feel about you."

You looked up, meeting her gaze, searching for any sign of deceit. But all you found was sincerity in her eyes.

"I care about you, more than I can put into words," Paige continued softly. "And I want you to feel secure in what we have, even if it's not official. You mean a lot to me."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at Paige's words. Despite your doubts, her sincerity shone through, washing away some of your insecurities. Her hand in yours felt warm and comforting, grounding you in the present as you allowed yourself to bask in the affection she offered.

"I trust you, Paige," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And I care about you too, a lot."

"Besides," Paige continued, her tone playful as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Who needs Azzi when I've got you? You're the one I can't stop thinking about, the one who drives me crazy in the best possible way."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, feeling a rush of affection for the girl sitting beside you. As you leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, Paige's expression shifted, a teasing glint entering her eyes.

"And uh, speaking of claims," she began, her tone teasing as she traced a finger along your jawline. "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Can't seem to get you out of my head."

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, really? And what exactly have you been thinking about?"

Paige leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, "Just how lucky I am to have you in my life. And how much I want to make you mine, officially."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, warmth spreading through you at the intensity of her gaze. In that moment, any lingering doubts melted away, leaving only the affection you'd felt for Paige.

"But not right now 'cus this isn't as romantic as I want," she continued as you scoffed playfully. You leaned away slightly only to be pulled back by the blonde.

Paige's playful smirk widened as she pulled you back towards her. "Hey, don't pout. I promise when the time comes, it'll be unforgettable."

"So, you're really going to make me wait?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned into her touch.

Paige smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I want it to be perfect, baby. But for now," she added, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, "just know that I'm all yours."

The warmth of her lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire within you. "I'll hold you to that," you murmured against her lips, feeling a surge of affection for the woman in front of you.

Paige smiled against your lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#wcbb x reader #wcbb #ncaaw #uconn huskies #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb

[bth3cowboi]

teenage dirtbag, sv5xreader

masterlist

pairing: sebastian vettel x skater!reader

summary: A teen romance and marriage as seen through Instagram posts and captions.

format: social media au

a/n: shoutout to seb’s actual romantic captions on ig, who else is doing it like him🙏

( twitter )

( instagram )

sebastianvettel

600.564 likes

sebastianvettel I was never the best at capturing all your tricks, I got too distracted by your beauty and talent. And yet you always trusted me with your camera. At least some of our action was pictured. I love you.

. . #sebastianvettel #thereisstillaracetowin

view all comments

sebastianvettel

306.677 likes

sebastianvettel Our first ski trip. The Austrian Alps were cold but you always manage to warm every place with your presence.

. . #sebastianvettel #thereisstillaracetowin

view all comments

sebastianvettel

732.812 likes

sebastianvettel "My wife is my biggest supporter and I am hers, of course. She's more than excited to be here and watch our cars race, she shows it in her funny ways. Now that we're both retired we find happiness in our companionship and hobbies, nothing beats seeing her smile every day. That is everything I seek, I just want to be with her."

.

📷 © orel_communication . . #fos #sebastianvettel #thereisstillaracetowin #racewithouttrace

view all comments

sebastianvettel

664.075 likes

sebastianvettel Not only Giulia can win races...

There was a summer when we both exchanged four wheels for two, sharing anything with you is a win by itself.

. . #sebastianvettel #thereisstillaracetowin

view all comments

sebastianvettel

877.623 likes

sebastianvettel "Now I can finally say I am a Champion like my wife."

The 2010 season was great for both of us, but we still were a little awkward holding the big trophies. Luckily the X Games give you gold medals.

. . #sebastianvettel #thereisstillaracetowin

view all comments

sebastianvettel

933.205 likes

sebastianvettel The 1st of January I asked you to marry me, and on April 23 of 2010, we decided to secretly do it in a Spanish court. It wasn't until winter that we broke the news at our "engagement" party. Let's just say our families didn't find it as funny as we did, but the celebration was as good as expected.

My biggest accomplishment will always be having you as my best friend and partner. I can't believe I found my soulmate and I get to wake up next to her every day. I would live a billion different lives if I knew I could catch a small glimpse of you in at least one of them. The love I have for you is unmeasurable, thank you for everything.

. . #sebastianvettel #thereisstillaracetowin

view all comments

--

a/n: this is short but I couldn't get the idea out of my mind, I might as well just make another (maybe reader's pov) so lemme know if you liked it<3

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sv5 x reader #sv5 fanfic #sv5 #sv5 imagine

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Your Only Option

Yandere Otome Game Character x GN Reader

TW: psychological horror, trapped forever in a time loop, yandere behavior, mind break, and manipulation

It was always spring when your world would reset once more. When the flowers were in full bloom and the scent of spring was heavy enough to make your head spin. You were in this digital world you had somehow ended trapped in, forever forced to repeat the story premise until you inevitably had to start over once more… yet you always ended up with only one of the capture targets. The villainous crown prince, Edwin Fritz.

Edwin was your favorite character in this game prior to you ending trapped in it. He was the hardest character to romance but the creator had stated in a forum that he was a yandere. The kind of character you were a sucker for each time! With his silver hair and crimson red eyes, you always melted into a puddle when he’d appear on your screen… yet it was much different in real life… Edwin was terrifying.

You spent over a hundred hours playing the game to romance him because you adored his twisted love routes, but it was so different now that you were in the game… especially since he’d always greet you at each starting point.

Both of you retained your memories of the countless previous games and he’d always greet you with an extravagant gift of some sort… must be the perk of being the villainous crown prince.

You gulped when Edwin made his way over to you, his crimson gaze didn’t leave your shivering form once. His large form easily towered over you as he held a giant bouquet of ruby roses in his arms. A ghost of a smile on his gorgeous face.

“Hello, darling.” Edwin handed you the roses before his hand brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “You tried to talk to Count Jesse in the last game play through… do you enjoy making me jealous?“

You trembled like a leaf but gave Edwin a bright, reassuring smile. You needed to reassure him before he went ballistic in a fit of rage… and you didn’t want to see other characters die again. “Of course not, Edwin. I only love you after all.”

Edwin pulled you into a hug, the roses in your arms shedded a few petals from the embrace. You gulped when you felt his breath shudder. “You do, don’t you? That’s why you’re the only one who didn’t give up one me…”

Edwin sighed dreamily when you relaxed in his hold. “I don’t know why you keep associating with such lowly characters when you have me. I can offer you such a wonderful life of luxury. You’ll never die or age. We can truly be together just like you’ve always wanted before I brought you here! You said you hated your life prior to me.”

Edwin pressed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. He didn’t care about the gazes from the other nobles at this small party. You were his in this life and his again in the next loop. Forever and ever and ever and ever. No one would be able to take you from him. He would keep repeating this loop until you swore you’d be his spouse!

“So what do you say? Will you be my spouse for all of eternity or do you want to keep playing this game?” Edwin gave you a smile that made a chill run down your spine. “I don’t mind repeating time another four hundred times until you finally relent.”

Edwin moved to cup your cheeks between his hands so his eyes could look into yours. You felt as if you could drown in the sea of obsession that lies behind those ruby red eyes. “I’m your only option, after all.”

#gn reader #yandere #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere headcanons #yandere otome #yandere character #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere concept #yandere content #yandere insert #otome game au #tw.manipulation #tw.yandere #time loop #obsessive yandere #yandere obsession #yandere boy #yandere male #gender neutral insert #yandere video game #yandere idea #yandere oc x y/n #yandere original character #yandere villain

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

when you and jj first get together, he really makes an effort to impress you. the boy doesn’t have much to give, having grown up with the shirt on his back and not much else, but he’s eager to make you feel special. he’s no stranger to women, being a pretty hot commodity for pogue girls and tourists but he never sticks around long enough for anything to be considered serious. he’s a free spirit at heart, and before he took interest in you, that boy couldn’t be tied down. your first date was one to remember, the only warning beforehand being a cryptic text saying: “meet me at the dock at 6?”

you’re ecstatic, even though he didn’t explicitly say it’s a date, you’re hoping it will be. you’re something of a hopeless romantic, and your growing crush on maybank was driving you crazy. you put on a pretty sundress, curl your hair into messy coils and pack one of your crocheted shoulder bag with your wallet and emergency lip gloss.

you get there right on time, the sun just starting to set over the marsh. you shuffle nervously to the end of the dock, where you find jj leaning over the wooden railing.

“jayj?” your voice is soft, trying not to startle him. he turns his head and his body follows, but before he can greet you he’s taken in by your dress, his blue eyes transfixed on it’s short frilly skirt. he’s in his usual garb, a white tee and cargo shorts, which you still find very charming. you blink up at him shyly, not knowing why you’re so nervous, after all it’s just jj.

“uh—hey!” he lifts his baseball cap, running his hand through his hair as he tries to keep his eyes on yours. “whatcha all dressed up for?”

“oh, i dunno. was just excited to get out of the house, i guess.” your cheeks heat up, suddenly concerned that you misread the situation entirely.

he nods. “i’m glad you did. y’look very nice.” he lets his eyes linger on your dress a second longer before he clears his throat and reaches for your hand. “would you.. be interested in an exclusive boat tour of this here marsh on the hms pogue?”

you slip your hand into his, tilting your head curiously. “ooo — i’d be honored.” he starts to lead you down the wooden ramp to where the boat is floating against the dock, and once it comes into view your sweet smile turns into surprise.

he spread out a picnic blanket over the front of the boat, and a big bowl of fruit, two subs from haywards, and an empty beer can stuffed with wildflowers sits in the center. you just feel warm, relieved that clearly your feelings are mutual, and this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you. “oh — jj!” you jump into his arms, hugging him tight. “this is beautiful, you planned all of this?”

as you pull away to admire the boat again, his touch lingers on your waist, still holding you close. “‘course i did, cupcake. you like it?”

you huddle close to his side again, looking up at him with anticipation. “do i like it? i love it! this is amazing.”

“well, i’m glad.” jj smiles down at you before clearing his throat, getting flustered already. “c’mere, we should get out there while the sun’s still setting.” he takes hold of your hand, adjusting his hat again in an attempt to hide his rosy face. he helps you onto the boat, where you sit atop the blanket to admire the flowers he picked while he drives you out into the marsh.

the two of you fill the hot summer air with giggles over the roaring motor, but eventually the boat sputters to a stop at a nice clearing. the yellow and orange clouds paint over the still water beautifully, and singsonging birds chirp in the distance. the scene before you looks like something out of your favorite romance movies. jj makes his way to the bow, making sure the anchor is set.

“dig in, you don’t gotta wait on me.” he laughs and finally settles down next to you, popping a strawberry into his mouth casually. he gestures to the sandwiches, eyebrows creased in slight concern. “said you like italian, right?”

“oh yeah — who doesn’t?” you smile, helping yourself to some of the fruit too. “this is all so sweet, jayj. really.”

he waves a hand in the air, brushing it off. “well shucks, you’re sweet, cupcake.” he can’t keep his eyes off of you, between how your skin is glowing in the low sunlight, your dress, hair, lips — he can barely handle it. “y’deserve it, a girl like you’s once in a lifetime.”

you blink at him, his compliments going right to your burning cheeks. “you really think that?”

“you kidding? of course i do.” he rubs his jaw, shrugging like it’s obvious as he leans forward. “m’just lucky enough to be here with you.”

“jayj.” you lean on your arm, tilting your head as you stare back at him. you lick your glossy lips, and he feels like you can read his mind. your mind is spinning, heart racing as he moves closer, reaching gently to tuck your hair behind your ear. you lean into his palm, letting him guide you into a soft first kiss.

˚❀˚

#my inbox is open! ‧₊˚. #jj maybank #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj #jj x reader #jj maybank headcanon #jj headcanon #jj maybank drabble #jj drabble

[dnd-smash-pass-vs]

Inevitable been thinking about how that one anon viewed Laios as a monsterfucker, and I think it made me realize the source of that confusion:

I think many monsterfuckers, and also many (dare I say most) monster devourers like Laios, both derive their desire from the same source: a latent wish for apoteratosis, the wish to become a monster.

Linguistic side note: apotheosis, becoming a god, breaks down to apo- (towards the end point), theo (god), -osis (turn noun into verb), so I swapped in the root for monster, hence apo- terato -osis. Side note over.

Monster devourers are a rather rare archetype in (mainstream) fiction, but they do exist. Those who seek to mimic or emulate the monster's power, those who find them endlessly fascinating and study them well past the point of obsession, those who wish to show their dominance over the monster by proving that they can kill and eat it... and I think Laios is the first I've seen who takes the title quite so literally, where his obsession goes straight to monsters-as-food.

Monsterfuckers, meanwhile wish to become close to the monster in a non destructive way (or at least a typically less destructive one, usually the only casualties are furniture and few bandages are needed, but I'll acknowledge that exceptions definitely exist). They wish to bond with it, to connect to it through lust or intimacy, to be able to stand at its side. They wish, on some level, to join it. Side note, I'm not saying this is true of all teratophiles, some are just kinky and driven by the thought of positive physical pleasure, or who find the personality of a given monster appealing, but I do think the apoteratotic desire is an underlying driver for many, I'd guess well more than half, it's just a subtle enough thing that I don't think most are consciously aware of it.

There's also a third point to the secret apoteratosis triangle that might surprise you: the monster slayer. Sure many, even most, slayers are driven by something like disgust or xenophobia or even rationality, but a significant minority land in the "if you can't join 'em, beat 'em" a.k.a. "I can't be you, so I'll destroy you" camp.

And these three reactions are, I notice, the three most common reactions that people have to one thing: the unattainable desire. The sentence begins "I cannot have it..." and these three camps end it different ways.

The teratophages say "so I shall dominate it." They seek what power they can grasp so they can have some modicum of control, so they can try to "have" it anyway. The kaiju corpse scavengers in Pacific Rim including refined and suave mob boss types just smacks of this attitude.

The teratophiles say "so I'll get as close as I can." There's a werewolf romance book where they're considering trying to turn the girlfriend, though they have no idea if she'll survive it (boyfriend was turned by accident then abandoned, so he's clueless, and they haven't found any others to teach them), and she says that she's fine remaining human, because she shares the power through him. "I have it, because you have it." The façade eventually breaks and in a vulnerable moment she confesses that she'd be willing to risk even a likely death to try to be turned. When they get in contact with an elder who can turn her safely she doesn't even wait a week.

The teratophobes write that whole sentence as "if I can't have it, then no one can." I'm sure everyone has seen enough examples of this behavior to understand that it's just a kind of love turned corrupt.

I'm not the first to notice the underlying apoteratotic urge: the aforementioned werewolf story, indeed many werewolf and vampire stories romanticize the transformation of a human into a monster. Back to Dungeon Meshi, author Ryōko Kui is fully aware of it with how Laios's underlying desire is eventually brought out of the subtext and explicitly named as his dysphoria with humanity, and his wishing that he could be a monster. For Laios that desire skipped right past the socially unacceptable monsterfucking, explicitly a form of bestiality in that world, to the socially acceptable devouring, though tempered by his respect and admiration of monsters into a desire for symbiosis with them. He cannot become one in truth (or so he thought when younger) but he could become part of their food web. It's as close as he thought he could get. Of course, that's the Watsonian explanation; the Doylist explanation is that Ryōko Kui wanted to subvert expectations, and also wanted to explore this angle of it.

So, all taken together, I think people read Laios as monsterfucker coded simply because teratophiles, teratophages, and teratophobes all share the same root motivation: apoteratosis. Thus, all three branches are coded very similarly.

It's similar to something I've seen in Batman fandom: some fans project romantic love between various members of the Batfamily, which is both wildly against canon and thoroughly hated by some other branches of fandom. But it is understandable, since familial love and romantic love both come from the same root, love of another. If someone doesn't recognize the simultaneous similarities and distinctions, it's all to easy to conflate them. If you don't actually understand the distinction, then the signs of affection between siblings might look the same as the signs of affection between lovers. Likewise, if you don't understand the distinction, the urge of the monster devourers (or ecologists) might look the same as the urge of the monster fucker.

I've sat on this for near a month, partially because of my repeated absences, partially because I wanted to honor it with an equally in-depth response. But 24 days later I've still got nothing, while I can't speak for that particular person I think in general you hit the nail right on the head for the base roots. I got no notes. Even with Laios...like all I can add is how supplemental materials actually confirm he did want to be a monster researcher but found books too dry, the only one who seemed to really *get* monsters was shunned. and how wild he goes when talking with an actual werewolf, "The existence I thought unobtainable is now right in front of me".

#even that last part. like as someone who got married only for us to realize that we may have the wrong kind of love #then broke up but stayed good friends and roommates but throughly not attracted to each other. #yeeeeeeah. #not tournament #answers

[chaosandmarigolds]

Among the Bullets

Chapter 2 Part 2

Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, He just sucks at flirting, but he is trying bear with meee)

Warnings?: jealousy? Body descriptions, nothing really.

 With a defeated huff you set the tablet down, leaning back in the chair was that was worse for wear. The light from the screen being the only real light source of the room, the hours of searching for a file you knew would be under the most secure of networks left you with a file that was more crossed out than not. A file you, of all people, should have access to. Yet perhaps the other people that was on that team thought not, and some part of you agreed with that.

After anothe few hours toying away in the hangar you had told yourself it was high time for an actual break, so you had gone to the mess hall, spending the thirty minutes pulling apart what you thought was a roll and reading over the briefing file for the up coming operation. Seemed easy enough, although there were a few things that were crossed out, so you assumed that was on a need to know basis. Even with all of the black ink covering the words in the upcoming operation, it didn’t hold a light to the scribbled out words of the past- a past you were now trying to uncover for your sake of mind. 

The way that the captain had referenced this, that mission, as if he knew the details you hadn’t been given until you had blood on your hands- he had information you wouldn’t ever be given. And you had been there. You were stay on the slow moving fan above you, mind whirling with questions you had buried deep down, just as you were about to doze off into a light slumber a knock came to the door, heavy set of hands yet a soft knock- enough to startle you

“Hi!” 

 You blink to the change of light and see the kind looking girl in front of you, bit taller, holding a duffle bag like the one they had given you in her clutch. Her blonde hair neatly slicked back into a bun and her eyes giddy if not fatigued. When you see her you give her a little smile, “Can I help you?” Maybe that was a bit rude but she didn’t seem taken back by it. 

  “Um, the- the guy with the mask- like the halloween one?- He said I’ll be sleeping here.”

Oh. A roommate. Lovely. While you try to hide your ghost of a smile from her words while speaking about the lieutantle you look her up and down, clean clothes, ironed even, white blouse tucked into a clean pair of khakis, black riding boots. She…if it was able to say, was the exact opposite of you.  With a few moments you nod and open the door some more, rubbing your eyes. 

“You must be the mechanical engineer for the operation, I’m chemical engineering” She chirps in response and looks around, setting her bag on the sofa, which would be your bed as you would insist she take the actual bunk. Being a scientist would explain a lot of things, such as her apparence. To that you hum, and she noticed your uneasy expression from the doorway, “Louise. My name is Doctor Lousie Johnson.” ‘

“You actually say doctor?” That was what you said, which was most likely not the best thing to say but it was you had. Sure, techimcally you ahd your doctorate degree, but the idea of introducing yourself like that made you cringe. So as the silence crept, you shrugged, introducing yourself with a shake of the hand, “And technically I’m a mechanic for the operation.”

Louise tilted her head, carefully taking out the tablet she had been given, her touch delicate, “Ah. Well in the briefing document they said engineer.” Her eyes lit up as she looks back up to you, “Oh! On that note can I have access to your notes on-” 

  “Eh, Tink-” 

You spin on your heels as you hear the scotts voice interrupting your thoughts and the words Lousise was speaking, looking at him as he was half knocking on the door. He flashes a smile to Lousie, and then looks back to you, “Goin to the bar with Si and Kyle, you’re comin.” 

With a frown you retort, “I try not to drink the night before I have something important to do.” 

“Nows the bes time to drink,” He frowns to that, his eyebrows furrowing, “Si said to drag ya if needed, so gimme y’er arm.” 

  You tilt your head with an exasperated look and turn your head as Louise bites back a little laugh, the woman quieting as you give her a glare, her hand clasped over her mouth and eyes scrunched up in laughter. Without missing a beat you look back to the man, “I’m not going to the bar, Sergeant.” 

 You sit in the booth, sipping the shirley temple as you read over the document for the thousanth time. It wasn’t anything special, the group was mostly sitting at the bar, chatting away with the doctor- who was aptly very quickly nicknamed ‘Doc’ You didn’t quite care for bars, however everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves- at least everyone expect for the Lieutentant, who somewhat mimicked your own posture but at the bar top. It wasn’t as if you were paying attention though, because that would be crazy, why on earth would you be watching- 

  About seventy percent of your attention was on the group you had isolated yourself from, how they laughed, how Lousie just clicked. It was idootic, you would most likely never see these men again in your life, nor her, after this operation, yet here you were feeling some sort of elementary school rejection. You were on a job, you were getting paid a decent chunk of money for this, and not to mention there were about a billion other factors which motivated your actions. With another sip of the drink you look away and to your tablet again, wiping off the oil smudge you had been too lazy to care about till then. 

  “Ya know its not safe for a lady to be out here alone,” a voice snapped you out of your trance, yet ther voice had no real body, you figured out it was coming from the person one booth over. 

  A quick glance back to the group, who were laughing with their backs to you, you bring your lips to your drink, speaking slowly and hushed, “You can say Hi like a normal person, Jack.” 

 A gruff laugh, and while you can’t see his face the rain covered grey hoodie was enough to confirm it was him- after all, you bought him that hoodie a few moments go by and you can hear him take a long swig of what you would guess was rum, “They want an update.” 

A long silence and you take a breath, hands looping around the glass as you think, “Can’t give them one yet, they haven’t told me anything…important, no location, time, nothing, they told me to be ready for anything and to dress warm.” You look around and then clear your throat, “They did ask if I was comfortable with 4320s.” 

“The tracktor?” He almost aughed, and for a spilt second you could almost see his smile before you replied. 

“Urals 4320s, dumbass.” You snipped back playfully, and look down to your glass, getting lost in thought for the millionth of a second, and when you looked up you noticed the luetiant looking at you, eyes narrowed, with a wary gulp you wave. 

Somehow, you had been given the task of dragging the ‘somewhat’ buzzed doctor back to your room, with a arm under her, aggravatingly small, torso you lead her through the hangar. Listening to the ‘buzzed’ words as she spoke, now, you wouldn’t lie- she seemed like a sweet girl, kind, and very smart in her field- if not a bit dense socially, most likely the only thing you both had in common. Yet there was something that rubbed you the wrong way, and perhaps it was your one jealousy. 

   She was what your parents wanted for you, perfect hair, perfect body, clothes, smile, eyes, makeup, all of it, she reeked of perfection. The worst part was that you couldn’t be upset at her for it, she was too kind. “I think- I think they’re nice.” 

   “Mmmhm,” You nod slowly as you kick the door to the room open, and that had been your go to response to anything the woman had to say, a quick mmhm and a nod, or maybe just a little lifeless laugh that would trigger her own chaotic giggles. Now, this was technically a task you had taken upon yourself, the boys had offered and you knew deep down they wouldn’t have done anything- but the ‘girl code’ was ingrained into your blood. So, with a roll of the eyes you took her back to the room, which now left you there.

     “The scary one is-is funny,” She stumbles out as you sit her down on the bunk, a hand on the top of the head to keep her from hitting her head, her eyes going over your emotionless expression, and she hums, “But he was looking at you.” 

   “You’re drunk, shut up.” You snip and then kneel down, taking off the boots with tough pulls which would get you a grumble and a scold, that you couldn’t care enough about. It took about ten minutes of standing by the bed and shoving her back down before she finally relented and stayed down, so you hum once she was out. So you push yourself up to stand, walking over to the desk, grabbing your bag and pulling out the tablet. 

The faint light in the bottom of it catching your eye, so you frown and grab the flip phone, double checking the door was locked as you lean against it, looking over the message. 

   Mission is in Poland- dress warm. Be safe. 

The contact name stung in your mind, Jackson. Unshokcing that they would have him be your contact, nonetheless, made your blood run cold every time you thought of him, much less when you spoke to him less than two hours before. 

     You too, okay?

 You stood outside the office for a solid few moments after you knocked before you heard the voice telling you to come in, and just as you remembered it was dimly lit, and the harsh smell of the smoke hung in the air. With an exaggerated clear of the throat you look to the captain, “Good morning, Sir.” 

     He motions for you to sit down, which you dismiss the offer with a shake of the head, “What do I owe the pleasure?” 

     “I have a few questions.”

The man seemed to almost expect this and he nods, “About the doctor.” 

   “Why a chemical engineer? From my experience-” 

“This isn’t about your experience. You were chosen for this operation, that should tell you everything you need to know, solider.” 

You stare at the captain for a long moment, the words rubbing you the wrong way, they way he was relaxed making your blood boil,  “I am not a solider. I will never be a solider and I will not be treated as such, I am consult and I demand some information on this operation aside from the vests I will be wearing and the truck I am expected to ride on. A chemical engineer and a mechanical one all in one op leads me to the assumption that is like operation that was lead on March 20th 2018 and I will need that information if you expect me to proceed.” 

Price stayed quiet as you spoke, seeming to take your words with a shaker of salt, which he prayed you would be thankful for, “You have all the information you need, as does Doctor Johnson.” 

   With a scoff you go on, “With all due repsect-”

“That will be all.” He interrupted you, his gaze hard and he holds out his arm for the door, “You are dismissed.” 

  “Did you get an’ sleep?” 

The voice snapped you out of your train of thought, zipping up your bag and you look up to the lieutant, giving him a brief laugh. Maybe to ease your own nerves, sure everything you were about to do made your blood run cold but the sight of a man who might as well just be a ghost at that point seemed to do nothing for them. He lived up to the callsign. It was four hours before you would go on the transport, for the operation to actually begin, and you were getting all of the things you thought you would need- however they didn’t tell you what you would need, so you were going in blind. 

   “Enough, sir.” You respond with an equally amount of lackluster. 

He looked you up and down, the uniform they had given you to wear was ironed and clean- unlike what you would normally wear. “You’ll be fine, yeah?” 

    With a quick glance up to him you hum, and you look around, eyes landing on Lousie as she chatted up Johnny and Kyle and you look to the Lieutant, “With all due respect I need to know why we need a chemist. I need to know what I’m walking into.” It wasn’t meant to sound so harsh, but the words spilled out and it was much too late to turn back. “Last time I had a chemist on my op-” 

    “Take it up with the Captain.” 

“I tried. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”

    The lieutenant looked down at you, the mask seeming a bit more intimidating up close, the black paint smuged around his eyes and the thread he used seeming to be tight to the cloth. He seemed to be mentally debating something, ot jdudging you, you couldn’t figure out which, and you didn’t quite want to. So with a grunt he picked up your bag without warning and began to walk to the transport. 

   “Hey???” You yell after him, a bit more confused than anything, catching the attention of the rest of the group from the other side of the hangar, “Thats mine?!”

Annnnyway that’s it! <33 comments and all that jazz mean a lot to me!!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #coco's chaos <3 #cod x you #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #coco’s chaos <3 #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x you #ghost fanfiction #ghost imagine

[furuyalover]

Hey bae! Can I request the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra, with any of the Haikyuu boys for your music event? - 🫧

somethin’ stupid | mars & her music event

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'i love you'"

— ft. iwaizumi hajime

AN: tysm for ur request! this was so much fun to write & ty for joining my event! for any readers int in participating, more info ab it here ! also this is on the longer side so cozy up, & get ready for some iwa fluff

"i know i stand in line, until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me..."

you were at a semi-formal event put on by your school, aoba johsai. despite the amount of people there, the ballroom in which the ball took place had a tranquil atmosphere. seeing your classmates in an elegant manner, looking at some of them and thinking oh wow they clean up nice, it was a rather lovely change of pace. however, only one student in particular really caught your eye. that student, of course, was the one and only, iwaizumi hajime.

he looked radiant. you've really never seen him in anything outside of his school and volleyball uniforms, so he was really a sight for sore eyes. the suit he wore was well-tailored, but you could still make out the defined muscles on his biceps. he was so elegant and well mannered in this setting, and it certainly helped that his best friend sitting next to him was being as obnoxious as usual, making iwaizumi's polished manner even more apparent,

hajime also had his eyes set on someone, you. he only ever sees you at school, in your required uniforms, so he was stricken with adornment when he saw you tonight. he had always admired you, had even a secret crush on you, (which of course was obvious to the whole volleyball team based off how much he mentions you) seeing you dressed so lovely, and looking even more beautiful than usual, how could he not gaze at you like that? but when he saw you being approached by other students, telling you how gorgeous you looked, his insecurities got the best of him. why should i even try? they already have all these other guys romancing them, i wouldn't even stand a chance, he would mumble to himself. oh how little the boy knows..

"i practice everyday to find some clever lines to make the meaning come through. but then i think i'll wait til the evening gets late, and i'm alone with you..."

after talking it over with his best friend who sat beside him, tooru oikawa, he decided to just say screw it and muster up enough courage to talk to you. he & oikawa practiced exactly what he's going to say to you, since tonight will be the night he finally confesses to you. after ensuring that his words will be perfect, he gathers all his confidence to get up, and begin walking to where you're standing & talking to a few classmates.

"the time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue"

he slowly makes his way over to you, being sure that you aren't talking to anyone by the time he approaches you. everything is gonna go perfectly, he'll have the perfect moment to tell what he's been feeling all these months.

after finishing some conversations with friends, out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar face walking towards you. is iwaizumi really coming over here? oh my god this is really happening, shit i hope i look okay. you frantically pat down your hair and clothes, to make sure you hopefully look perfect by the time iwa sees you. when he finally gets to you, you notice something about him is different. he seems more reserved than usual, almost seemingly shy?

"iwaizumi! i didn't know if you were gonna make it today, great to see you!" you say smiling like an idiot. "please, call me hajime. great to see you too, you look stunning." flustered by his affection, you look down smiling to hide your beet red face. hajime is hit with relief because now you hopefully won't see how red he is himself. "hey don't wanna sound weird or anything, but would you wanna step outside with me for a sec? there's something i need to get off my chest." your eyes widened, nervous at what he could possibly have to say. but regardless you nod in agreement as he takes you outside.

the two of you gaze out to the sky, on the balcony just outside the venue of the formal, in partially comfortable partially awkward silence. "so, um, what was it you wanted to say?" you nervously ask to try and break the ever so loud silence. fuck. iwaizumi thought. all his practice with oikawa? yea, that all went out the window because suddenly his mind is going a million miles per minute. he has so many thoughts running through his head, but he just can't seem to find the words, nor the confidence, to voice them. but before you know, the stern and intimidating volleyball player you're used to turns into a rambling mess.

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, 'i love you'..."

"i don't really know how to say this, but fuck it i'll just try" he starts. you take a step back to look at him, a little confused, but waiting to hear the rest. "y/n, i really like, maybe even love you. i don't know, i'm bad with feelings, but i do know that you're all i think about. i never shut up about you, and i think you're the most perfect person put on this earth. i know i'm not oikawa, and that you probably have tons of other guys who want you and i probably sound stupid but i jus-" he stops suddenly when realized that you've wrapped your arms around him and engulfed him in a hug. after hesitantly wrapping his muscular arms around you, he relaxes a bit more, and eases into your touch.

with the side of your face resting on his chest, you look up at him beaming. both of you blushing profusely, but neither of you pay any attention to that. after a moment of just staring at each other, you finally say with a smile "you are kinda stupid hajime, i like you too, maybe even love also. i don't know how you haven't picked up on that yet" this just makes iwaizumi pull you in tighter, it feels like all his dreams had just came true.

"oh my god he finally did it" "god it's about time" oikawa and hanamaki groan to each other. yes they watched this whole thing go down for a comfortable distance, partially to make fun of him but also just to support their close friend from afar

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

#holy moly i am so in love w iwa #him & this song? yes. #mars & her music! #game time! #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu x you #hq x you #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hcs #hajime iwaizumi x reader #hajime iwaizumi fluff #hajime iwaizumi headcanons #haikyuu event #haikyuu #team manager 🫧!

[autistichalsin]

I tried to have this conversation a few weeks ago and it didn't go well, so after giving it time to calm down I am bringing it up now on my own page, about the importance of allowing fans who can't afford the game, or who otherwise can't play for themself due to disabilities, etc, a space in the fandom. And in particular, this involves deconstructing the idea that Let's Plays aren't a valid way to experience this media, and that people who didn't purchase the game don't belong here, both of which are harmful, classist, ableist ideas.

(Tone: genuine. Not angry or aggressive, but passionate.)

I want to say that as much as I enjoy playing BG3 and am glad I bought it, there really isn't anything that I have gained, in terms of understanding of the plot, lore, characters, relationships, etc, that I didn't already have when I was watching Let's Plays and using the datamined dialogues exclusively. Nor has my emotional experience been significantly different in any measurable way. I mean, I WAS very happy to recruit and romance Halsin in a way that I didn't feel when I watched a Let's Play, but that's it. It didn't change my understanding of, or feelings towards, him at all. I knew Halsin's entire story before, and I knew his entire story after, too. My feelings on each and every one of Halsin's scenes has remained exactly the same.

There wasn't any character I thought was a bad guy who I saw something new in when I played for myself, or vice-versa. I didn't have any paradigm shifts in my understanding of the plot. The bad guy was still a Nether Brain controlled by the Chosen of the Dead Three in each playthrough. The good guys were still a group of traumatized weirdos (/affectionate). Astarion was still a victim of rape and slavery, Shadowheart was still a cult escapee, and Halsin still struggled with the burdens of leadership. There were still choices that could make the companions bar Jaheira and Minsc fall in love with you, and choices that could make them despise you. There were still choices that could push some of the characters to be better or worse versions of themselves. There were still a lot of notes and books to pick up, some of which were important to the lore, some of which provided random factoids about bit characters you may find interesting or may find useless, and many of which were completely useless and a waste of inventory space. I didn't learn anything new in the informational sense, about the plot, the characters, the flow of the game, nothing.

(Well, there was ONE different thing, which was that I ended up being an edge case where I accidentally shot Lae'zel with my arrow when trying to free her and got yelled at by her for it. Does that actually count as a unique-to-playing revelation though? Everyone who watched me stream that day would have learned about it too.)

I didn't experience some overwhelming emotional shift in response to the events onscreen that wasn't there when I watched Let's Play, either, which is also an argument that has been made. There's been a case presented that it's not so much that the events themselves change but that playing somehow alters your emotional response which affects how you view the plot and characters. But that didn't happen for me, either. I didn't go from "I do not care one single solitary fuck about Barcus Wroot" to "oh my god I will give this poor liddol guy the world." I still do not care about him. I didn't go from "yay, the moon lesbians are free!" to some sort of more intense emotion like "omg I'm going to cry now!" I still love them and am happy they're free, but hardly moved to tears. I didn't go from "fuck Orin" to "MEGA fuck Orin." Making the choices and fighting the battles myself didn't change anything for me in that sense. There was no emotion I hadn't already felt before that came to me in my own playthrough. Every emotion I had when watching a Let's Play was almost exactly the same when I played the game for myself.

If anything, the only real change was that I started to have annoyance as a sort of background radiation for about 90% of the companions because I kept accidentally talking to them when trying to click on items and things, and I got really fucking tired of hearing their greetings? "Shut up, Astarion, I wanted to loot the corpse, not talk to you, please back the fuck up. Why is my party always halfway up my ass? Personal space, guys?" Otherwise nope.

My understanding of canon, my understanding of the characters, my emotional resonance to the events that happened, those were all exactly the same. I literally don't know what people are referring to when they say that there was some magical new dimension of feeling that can only be unlocked when you are the one playing. Whatever that magic was certainly wasn't there for me, and that disproves the idea it's "impossible" to fully experience the game through LPs, because having played the game, I can say that I DID get the full experience through LPs. Maybe some people can't get the full feel of things by watching, which is 100% valid, but some people very much can. I did both, and I can tell you that they conferred 98% similar intellectual and emotional experiences.

In fact, I'd argue that there's more of a difference between playing as a Tav or an Origin vs playing as a Dark Urge than there is between playing yourself vs watching an LP, but I don't often see the case made that people who haven't completed a Durge playthrough don't understand the game properly and therefore can't/shouldn't contribute their analyses/interpretations of canon to the fandom. And I mean, there is some HEAVY lore you only get in a Durge playthrough. You would have a FAR better case that completing/watching a Durge playthrough is the event that marks you as understanding/having a complete knowledge of canon than you would that playing the game yourself instead of watching someone else do it is, though I still wouldn't ultimately agree that it's a prequisite.

People who watch LPs are valid, your way of experiencing the game is valid, and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise because honestly, people who gatekeep are never worth listening to in the first place. The idea that your understanding becomes more complete when playing yourself isn't true for everyone. You can say they weren't the same experience for you, and that is PERFECTLY valid and understandable, but that's only you. You can't say what others are and aren't able to feel when playing vs watching Let's Plays. The only correct statement here is "some people are able to fully comprehend the plot through Let's Plays, and some aren't, and the mode of consuming the game ultimately doesn't determine whether a person belongs here. Both groups still belong in the fandom and have just as valid opinions to contribute as the others."

Further, I have seen absolutely brilliant, on-point analyses from people who only watched Let's Plays, and absolutely horrible, nuclear hot takes from people who spend all day playing the game. Just the other day, for example, I legitimately witnessed a Redditor VEHEMENTLY argue that 1. There was a scene in the game where Halsin called Thaniel "beautiful", 2. This nonexistent scene was ABSOLUTE proof that Halsin was a pedophile, and 3. Halsin's time as a sex slave had clearly caused him to become a pedophile. People who had seen only the intro of the game on an LP would STILL have a better understanding of canon than this person who claimed to have played dozens of times. If we're going to judge people's understanding of the game, it should be based on the understanding their posts convey directly, not based on assumptions about who can absorb what amount of information through what mode of consuming the game.

So I repeat: LP watchers, you're fine. Enjoy fandom in a way you can experience. You shouldn't be locked out of discussion of the game just because you can't afford hundreds of dollars for a game system. To suggest otherwise would be appallingly cruel and exclusionary behavior, on the level of saying bootleg watchers can't be part of discussions about Broadway shows. You all belong. You don't have to buy your way into a fandom space.

And bringing it to that issue: yes, Let's Plays ARE an absolute necessity for both poor people and for people with certain disabilities (blindness, since the game doesn't have a narrative-only mode, and severe disabilities affecting the hands being the two that jump to mind right away). Gatekeeping fandom from poor people based on whether they've bought an expensive game and gaming setup, much like being an anti-bootleg Broadway fan, serves the sole purpose of shaming and punishing poor fans for not properly engaging in the capitalist system. I know the intention isn't to gatekeep the poor and people with certain disabilities from the fandom, but that ends up being the effect when this particular argument gets made.

[blingblong55]

Gold Rush- Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request: heyy! I love your writing style and am I big simper for makarov!<3 Ignore this if you don't want to do it but what about reader being apart of makarov's crew and him falling in love with them during a mission. Thank you sooo much if ur going to do this!<333 ---- F!Reader, fluff/romance? ----

Being part of Konni was always a risk, especially when the rest of the world is against you and your teammates. Makarov, the man who started everyone just so happened to be by your side in this mission. He was rough, cold and serious, rarely making jokes unless you were a part of his inner circle. Tonight, he leads the team through yet another dangerous mission. 

You were walking towards another part of the enemy base when he stopped you. He shakes his head, "Too risky, take left," he commands but you know this place best. "If I take left the guards will notice me, this way is their blind spot, trust me," you voice above a whisper. "If you get us caught-"

"I won't," you cut him off. 

For nearly three hours, the team and you sneaked around, gathering as much intel as possible before sunrise. 

By the time the helo had arrived, he allowed you to go first, weird for a man like him to care about such things. On the way back to base, he sits beside you, "Smart move back there, Y/n," he says in a much softer voice. What he hadn't expected was for him to develop a soft spot for a person in his team, much less you. 

It didn't start tonight, no, this took time to develop. 

About two years ago, that is when he first noticed you. The team and you were just hanging around, it was an odd day, with no work or worries. He watches how his men laugh, how you sit by the corner, listening but not engaging and he takes note of that. With time, he notices how blunt you were, how you didn't glorify anything, especially not him. All others did, well those who were allies to his so-called 'cause'. 

You didn't mean to be mean when you were honest, you just said things like how you saw them, even with him. Another thing he noticed was how shy you were, but when asked your words spoke differently to how you are. 

With time, he found himself smiling at what you did, the dumb jokes only you and the person telling them understood. Secretly, he began to memorise you. It would be a fear to others if he did this but in this light, it was romantic. He began to notice the smile you had when you'd read a book and it got to an interesting part. 

One night, he sat down on some stairs, looking up at the starry night as smoke ran in his lungs. He did this only when he knew you'd be jogging around base, sleepless nights were your excuse but he knew the real reason. 

Others noticed how kind he was to you, how he never laughed when you were the butt of the joke. It became clear when he would only beeline to you when books were in his hand. All in Russian but as he said, "The author made it in Russian because the emotions are better written."

He always had a book he needed you to read. In some cryptic way, the words between pages and titles were his way of being a poet to the girl in the jogging shoes. 

Tonight, as the team arrives back on base, he asks you to stay back. 

Why be feared if you, yourself fear something?

The walk to his office was calm, screw whoever said comfortable silence was overrated. This silence with him was nice, it was...beautiful in some way. 

"I wanted to...say something I think is idiotic to say, especially for a man like me," he starts. Your gaze on his soft eyes, those heterochromatic eyes. 

He takes a deep breath and continues, "I like you. I like all about you and I think I would be a fool if I never said this. You can act as shy as you want, and pretend I annoy you, but I want a lot of things with you. I've read poems that remind me of you. I like our night routines, I like how you know the real me. I like how everyone here adores you...at least I do. I didn't like how you have become the only person I get nervous around but...now, I do. But I do hate that you make me feel excited, happy and hopeful and that you know me better than anyone. I hate worrying about you so if you must, reject me now so I can have a real reason to hate myself too."

His eyes desperately looking at yours and when a smile appears on that beautiful face of yours, he smiles too. 

For three months, he and you get close. Milena, the woman everyone, even the enemies, thinks is his lover only stays close so she can finally see a long-time friend happy. 

Everywhere he goes, those sweet eyes you've come to love steal glances at you. Small, secret smiles capture no one but the eyes of each other. He becomes the constant in your life as you do to his. 

In this world, he shouldn't show anyone his shiny toy. He mustn't since he knows others will break the one fragile thing he allows himself to have. So, like the flower-covered coat pockets in his home, he keeps you tucked away for when his hands can be fragile again.

Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @rvivienner @frazie99 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @viomast @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @strangepuppynightmare @strawberrychita @Llelannie @anonymuslydumb @nobodys-coffee @rowrowrowyourboat13 @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @marshiely @baruque-ya @tuihiatus @iruzias @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo

#cod mw2 #cod #cod x reader #mwii #call of duty #cod fluff #cod imagine #cod x you #makarov cod #vladimir makarov #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #makarov x reader #call of duty mw3 #vladimir makarov x you #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare #vladimir makarov x reader #vladimir makarov cod #vladimir makarov fluff

[callisto-corner]

Cooking at 3am | Geto Suguru

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn reader

You remember those words from Virginia Woolf: 'One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.' She had a point, didn't she? Food, it's like the engine oil for your body. Without it, you're just grinding gears. And right now? Well, let's just say you're feeling the effects. Since two in the morning, it's been a battle on all fronts. Physically, emotionally, mentally—you're feeling the strain, the emptiness gnawing away at you .

A solitary tear escapes, trailing down your cheek as you clutch your rumbling stomach, wondering why Geto hasn't stirred yet. Seriously, does he sleep through earthquakes? you roll over to the small table, the moon's feeble light filtering through the curtains, barely illuminating your quest for sustenance. It's a scene straight out of a tragic romance novel, only instead of longing gazes, there's just you and your grumbling belly, desperately searching for snacks in the dark and there was none. A tragic ending in truth but one you refused to accept.

You unplugged your phone and it blinked. The clock struck 2:30 and it was time to deploy. Guided by the soft illumination of the moonlight seeping through the curtains, you navigated towards the door with deliberate steps, each footfall measured and precise. You spared a brief glance at Geto, cocooned in the warmth of the duvet, his peaceful slumber undisturbed by the nocturnal activities unfolding around him.

With practiced precision, you reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly to minimize any noise. The hinges yielded with a soft murmur, barely audible in the stillness of the night. Casting one final glance at Geto's peaceful slumber, you slipped out into the hallway, leaving behind the cold of the room for the cool embrace of the night.

The darkness enveloped you as you ventured into the living room, the moonlight filtering through the windows providing little assistance. With a quick flick, you activated the flashlight on your phone's camera, its beam cutting through the shadows and revealing the path ahead.

Navigating through the familiar terrain, you made your way towards the kitchen, each step cautious and deliberate. After a few moments of searching, your efforts were rewarded as you located the switch for the kitchen's light. With a click, the room was bathed in illumination, casting a warm glow over the countertops and cabinets.

Relieved to have finally made it to the kitchen, you wasted no time in getting to work. With your stomach rumbling impatiently, you eagerly scoured the pantry and refrigerator, hoping for a quick fix to satisfy your midnight cravings. But as you peered inside, your heart sank.

As you scoured the pantry and refrigerator, your hopes dwindled with each empty shelf. No chips to crunch on, no crackers to nibble. Not even a solitary cookie to salvage the situation. Instead, all you found were ingredients that required cooking—nothing suitable for instant gratification. Not a juice box or an apple in sight.

And then, like a slap in the face, it hit you: today was grocery day. The realization hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of your oversight. With a sigh of resignation, you accepted your fate and prepared to face the challenge of cooking up a meal from scratch, determined to make the best of the situation despite the inconvenience.

With a sense of determination, you propped your phone up against the knife holder, relying on the video's guidance to cobble together a meal. But frustration mounted as you realized that key ingredients were missing, throwing a wrench into your culinary plans. With a heavy sigh, you cracked your brain, considering alternative options to salvage the situation.

As if on cue, Geto's voice pierced the silence of the dark hallway, catching you off guard. "What do you think you are doing?" 

You couldn't help but let out an involuntary gasp, your hand flying to cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to hold back your outburst. The sound of your own heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out any hope of a coherent response as you watched Geto's calm face from across the kitchen.

And then, with a pointed gesture, he directed your attention to the sign above the stove—a sign you had failed to notice until now. The bold letters spelled out your ban from the kitchen, accompanied by a flurry of exclamation marks that left no room for ambiguity.

"Really?" you exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and amusement coloring your tone as you turned back to face him. His upper body rested casually on the island's marble surface, his expression calm yet resolute. With a slight shrug of his shoulders, he met your amazed gaze. "I still want a house to live in," he stated matter-of-factly, reaffirming the rules he had set in place.

"Come on Sugu" you placed the pot on the stove. "It was an honest accident"

"And I honestly," he began, his voice gentle as he met your gaze, "would still like to live in this house and not its ashes." your small smile dropped as you watched him. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Can you teach me then?” you threw your hand in the air.

He gestured a hum to your request, as he washed the vegetables. “You’d like to learn?” he turned to you

You have never cooked anything out of a small childhood mac and cheese. It was simple and it was tasty. Only required boiling water and after simply separating the liquid from the macaroni then you added cheese.

Your admission hung in the air, a stark contrast to the warmth of the kitchen. It was a confession that spoke volumes, revealing a vulnerability you rarely showed. Geto's expression softened, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy.

"Never cooked anything beyond a childhood mac and cheese?" he echoed, his voice gentle yet tinged with curiosity.

You nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. It was a humbling admission, but one you knew you needed to make if you were ever going to learn.

Without missing a beat, Geto turned off the water and dried his hands, his movements deliberate yet comforting. "Well, then," he said, a spark of determination lighting up his eyes. "It's time we change that."

"I'll leave the vegetables duty to you," he added, gesturing towards the colander of vegetables that he had placed in a bowl to catch the dripping water.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Geto set to work, his focus unwavering as he began to prepare the shrimp with practiced ease.

Throughout the cooking process, Geto patiently taught you how to julienne carrots and peel various ground provisions efficiently. His guidance was clear and encouraging, and you absorbed his instructions eagerly, eager to learn and improve your cooking skills.

As you watched Geto work his magic in the kitchen, a surge of excitement and anticipation bubbled up inside you. This wasn't just about cooking; it felt like the beginning of a whole new culinary adventure, and you couldn't wait to dive in.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Geto, you are soaked in the sights and sounds of the kitchen—the sizzle of the shrimp hitting the pan, the aroma of spices mingling in the air. His movements were confident and sure, a testament to his expertise in the kitchen.

As Geto poured the shrimp into the pan, the sizzle of the seafood hitting the hot surface filled the air with an enticing aroma. With a deft hand, he sprinkled the perfect blend of seasoning over the shrimp, each movement deliberate and precise. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you watched him work, eager to play your part in this culinary symphony.

Instinctively, you reached for the dishes, your fingers dancing across the smooth surface as you prepared to assist in any way you could. As Geto stirred the sauce, you moved seamlessly beside him, your actions perfectly synchronized as if you'd been cooking together for years. It was a fluid collaboration, each of you anticipating the other's movements with a natural ease.

And then, as the aroma of the simmering sauce filled the kitchen, it was time to taste. Geto reached for a fork and a small plate, his movements deliberate as he carefully selected a plump shrimp from the pan. With a gentle touch, he dipped the fork into the sauce, ensuring that each bite would be infused with flavor.

You'd like to believe that no other man could have held a candle to a man like Geto. He, a man whose essence radiated warmth like a cozy hearth on a winter's night. His patience wasn't just a virtue; it was a cloak he wore with effortless grace, never once allowing the chaos of the world to ruffle its serene folds. And his kindness? It flowed from him like a gentle stream, soothing the weary souls he encountered along life's winding path. Geto was the embodiment of tranquility, a steady anchor in a sea of uncertainty, his presence a balm to those fortunate enough to know him.

As he held out the fork to you, offering you the first taste, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. Taking the morsel of shrimp into your mouth, you closed your eyes, savoring the explosion of flavors that danced across your tongue. You hummed as the food melted in your mouth, the spiciness and sweetness of the sauce mixed the spiciness erupting a tiny cough from you. .

“Is it any good?” he asked

You couldn't help but chuckle at his question, even after countless meals he'd prepared for you, his humility never faltered. “Now you're just fishing for compliments,” you teased, giving him a gentle poke in the chest.

“But if you must know, I think you know the fastest way to my heart”

His smile widened, a mixture of pride and satisfaction evident in his expression.

“Then I'll just have to keep cooking for you, won't I?”

#jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #geto suguru headcanons #geto #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu geto

[sadhornydemons]

Rapid-Spoiler-Season-Speculation: Full Moon Edition

Following the lead, but hopefully not completely on the coattails of many great theories, I'll throw my ideas into the wind and hopefully only end up half wrong.

Stolas's bed curtains can be seen, this appears to be his magic displaying the day's info.

Stolas still has his bandaged arm. Cue panic, then duet song.

Afterwards, IMP returns from a mission, Loona has the book.

Time is 10 minutes until 6pm, clock out time! At least for Blitz who has removed his jacket.

Get in bitch, we're going shopping at the Asmodues private reserve safe, emphasis on privates.

(Fizz, unless Stolas is in full demon mode, the thing will murder his cloaca and not in a good way)

Meanwhile, waiting, worrying.

(Blitz, isn't not gonna fit!)

"Stolas, you don't have to turn on that red light." ♪

And as everyone and their second cousin predicted, Blitz freaks out. As to how long the talk went, or what exactly was stated, we'll have to wait and see. But we get a taste of Blitz cursing Stolas out.

Stolas is roughly still in the same place, as the earlier scene, as he gives what seems to be a closing goodbye. Although dialogue can easily be mixed in a trailer.

And at some point we get this moment of Blitz, with a sad expression(?), seemingly reaching for Stolas in what appears to be inside.

Then being teleported outside (by magic)?

Also referenced in a fantasy sequence here:

Did Blitz say some very terrible things to Stolas before the full details of the Asmodean crystal and Stola's intentions for their relationship were made clear to him? And then regretfully try to make amends? That's full speculation on my part, but considering what we get in what appears to be a follow up scene between these two:

The most common theory I've seen and can still believe myself is that this scene will take place in the Apology Tour, but I think it's actually taking place in Full Moon. This entire episode will probably be focused on these two and the preceded scenes (even with missing parts) aren't enough to fill a full (and heavily anticipated) one.

On a commentary note, and not to pick sides, but Blitzø Buckzo, what DID you do?! That bird didn't balk when you were torching his beloved Loo Loo Land to the ground and now he looks like he's 2 seconds away from releasing the hellhounds on your ass.

But on a positive note, he's at least outside, drinking wine and reading a romance novel. Not knocking down absinthe with the houseplants or burning all of Blitz's horse drawings in effigy. It's more of the 'My lovelife is in the shitter, Gabriella' vs 'He'll never love me and I'll die alone next the ice cubes' mood of earlier. But either way, dude looks PISSED.

A mocking angry bow. Blitz has a smile, but maybe it's just because they're talking instead of Stolas ignoring him.

(book is still in hand) "Do you have any kind of remorse for what you do?" matches the mouth movements. Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is directed at Blitz. Unless Stella happened to drop by at a bad time to pick up her mail (what happened?!!)

Judging by the sky, it now appears to be morning.

(note the roof and curtains behind Stolas, they're now under/inside a fancy canopied tent) Owl is still angry.

Blitz has kicked back his feet, making himself at home. Stolas's pose is familiar but possibly still mocking, based on his earlier expression. Does Blitz want to solve their problem the usual way and Stolas may not bite this time?

End of my speculated/confirmed sceencaps from this episode, save maybe for this:

Granted, this could be a scene from any of the Blitzø-Conga-Line-Trauma-Storyarc of this season, but I'm thinking it may end this particular one. Leaving Stoltiz in a not great, but possibly getting things out into the open place.

Leading into the Apology Tour!

#helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss full moon #stolitz #stolas #blitzø #blitzo

[lovemyromance]

Eluciens’ new argument is that we only pretend to care about Elain because we want to read Azriel smut 💀 Personally I would have an entire Elriel book with only tension and fluff and I wouldn’t need the smut at all. Also dare I say that the only side that truly cares about Elain is the Elriel side…?

Honestly, ACOSF made me realize a purely physical, smut filled book is not something I want. Like, did I read ACOSF and enjoy it?

Yes.

Do I want to read that again? Not particularly.

We're going to get smut regardless of whether the male LI is Azriel or Lucien or god forbid, Tamlin 🥴 because SJM writes adult Romantasy, which means smut is inevitable.

The thing about Elriel, though, is they are both such quiet, calm, soft characters that I don't think their book will be focused on the smut. I think they'll have more of a charged glances, soft touches, running their fingers through each others hair - type relationship. They'll be so different from Feysand and Nessian, even if there is smut. Elriels always have wanted Elain with someone who suits her and will care for her and who she loves the most. Their romance will be bittersweet, just like them.

And while I think there are some Eluciens who care about Elain, I think most care about Lucien more.

But I believe all Elriels put Elain first. I don't think there are many people who'd pick Azriel's happiness over Elain when it comes to this side of the ship war.

And I think most of us would agree, and would 100% read a book with zero smut, just to see the Elriel relationship blossom on the page. I think a lot of us might even prefer it that way 🤷🏻‍♀️

#elriel #elain archeron #elain x azriel #acotar #azriel #pro elain #elain

[radley-writes]

Hi! I was wondering if you could give me some advice... I keep seeing writing advice telling us to write something new and fresh and original and such to be able to get an agent and stuff, and it's getting in my head. I feel unmotivated to write the story I feel in my heart because I don't think it's super new or original and I'm worried I'll always "fail" at being a writer because of it

Gideon the Ninth is, at its heart, a locked house murder mystery. The only difference is that, rather than Poirrot or Marple, the main characters are a buff lesbian sword-girl jock and her Horrid Little Necromancer (pos), and that it's set in a decaying space-dynasty.

That's an extreme example. But, take another hugely popular book - Six of Crows. It's a bank heist crossbred with a prison escape. Again, what sells it is the characters (and, to some degree, the setting, though I would argue if it had been set in our world, the characters would've still shone enough to make it a best seller).

You've probably heard that there's nothing new under the sun. That's true. It's also true that almost everything that's created is, in its own way, unique.

You don't have to create something completely fresh in order to be successful in tradpub. You just have to (and sorry if this sounds cynical) write a story that will sell. I would argue that, in all honesty, writing something completely whacky off-the-wall avant garde and never-before-seen is a possible, but risky way to enter tradpub, because there's no precedent for a sales team to use in marketing. Just looking at, say, the romance genre - where every book has the same basic plot! - should show you that originality isn't always a selling point.

Find your strengths as a writer - worldbuilding? Characters? Dialogue? Intricate Rube Goldberg-machine plots? Then focus on making those strengths shine in your story (and, of course, on improving the rest of your writerly skillset). Uniqueness will follow.

#writing advice #writing tips #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writeblr

[nalyra-dreaming]

I've been thinking for a long time that Eric Bogosian won't play Daniel for many years if the show really gets the desired 8 seasons, and how to get out of this situation. And I had a crazy theory. What if we get the Devil's Minion in season 2, but not to the full extent. Perhaps they won't tell us until the last episode that there was something more than a chase between Daniel and Armand, and in the finale it will be a tub of ice water for ignorant fans in a compartment with everything else that will happen and for those who know it will also be an emotional meat grinder. And if we are talking about the parallel of Louis and Daniel's story, then if Louis tries to commit suicide, then something will threaten Daniel's life so much that it will bring the moment of his death as close as possible. A worsening of the disease or anything else. And in season 3, we will be shown how Armand is trying to find a way to save him without turning him into a vampire, or he already knows this way and we will be shown how he came to this method, and in parallel with modern Armand who is trying to save Daniel's life, we will be shown past moments of the Devil's Minion with all the details of love/ romance/sex and all sorts of other dirty things, and these memories will somehow enhance the effect of Armand's struggle for his boy's life in the present. And at the end of the third season, Daniel will somehow be given a new/prepared/cloned body. And after that, we'll say goodbye to Eric and Daniel will only be played by Luke as in the past (if flashbacks from the 80s are still needed after season 3) so it is in the present.

How crazy does that sound?

... actually not that crazy given the chronicles!!

I mean... it's probably no coincidence that Sam, Jacob and Rolin want to do "The tale of the Body Thief" (and that rumor re Raglan James?!), which... could fit in very nicely, couldn't it.

I mean... I have always said (and stand by that) that I would love old!Daniel to be turned, but... I can see the narrative hooks they probably would prefer to employ wrt Daniel.

However they will do it will need to be set up very ... carefully though, because the general audience probably won't know what hit them if / when that happens *laughs*

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #the devil's minion #armand #daniel molloy #devil's minion