#i'm here to enjoy myself and connect with other people who enjoy the story in a similar way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kvtie444 · 2 months

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˚｡⋆ SAY IT

a/n: this song and luv r on Chris's private playlist and im not over it.

warnings: NSFW, sex, oral, fingering, degrading, dom! chris, drinking, drugs

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I glance down at my drink, the ripples dancing to the beat of the heavy bass coming from the speakers near the back doors. My friends dragged me to this LA party, and as we stand by the pool, I spot a few influencers mingling around. Shifting my attention back to my friends, I smooth out my mini dress, just catching up and enjoying the conversation.

"He's such a fuckboy, I can bet you money he's gotten with at least half the girls here," my friend remarks, chuckling. I smile to myself before glancing over at the commotion. Drunk guys were playfully shoving each other into the pool, eliciting squeals from some girls who got splashed. The scene was chaotic, and I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activity and the lack of people I actually knew here. I needed space.

"Yeah, he lied about a bunch of other shit too," one of my friends mentions, pulling me back from my thoughts. I zone out again, returning to people-watching until a familiar face catches my eye. Christopher Sturniolo. Obviously I knew who he was, even though he didn't follow me back on socials. Instead, he followed my friend, always liking her stories whenever I appeared in them.

As if feeling my gaze, he pivots away from his brothers, his icy blue eyes locking onto mine. My heart drops to my stomach as his gaze trails over my body. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, as if he's just now realizing who I am. He runs his hand over his mouth briefly before lifting his red solo cup to his lips, all the while keeping his eyes locked with mine. I bite my lip nervously, feeling the tension thickening between us, before finally tearing my gaze away, breaking the connection first.

I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks, accompanied by the pounding of my heart against my ribs. With shaky hands, I take a final swig of my drink, the lingering taste of Hennessy and Coke swirling on my tongue. I try to calm myself down, reminding myself to relax. Why was I letting everything get to me like this? I needed to chill and just enjoy the party.

"I'm gonna go get another drink," I smile at my friends, excusing myself from the conversation. As I navigate through the tightly packed crowd, squeezing past bodies, I can't shake the feeling of eyes on me. Finally, I reach the doors, the music now blasting so loud in my ears that the lyrics are inaudible, and I can feel the bass vibrating through my bones. Pushing through more people, I finally make it to the kitchen.

I brought my own drink, not trusting any of the beverages here, so my stash was kept safely in my bag upstairs in one of the bedrooms. The only thing missing was a mixer. I grab a bottle of Diet Coke and pour it halfway into my cup, screwing the cap back on. As I do, I feel a chest brush up against my back, assuming it's just some random person due to the crowded space.

Turning around with my cup in hand, I freeze as I come face to face with Chris, towering above me. His eyes seem impossibly bluer up close, and I'm momentarily speechless.

I look up at him through my lashes, feeling the cool marble counter pressing against the small of my back. "Where have I seen you before?" he finally says, his voice smooth as honey. "I came with Mads," I reply, smiling up at him, my head tilting slightly to the side. He nods, a realization dawning on his face. "Y/N?" he asks, his voice turning my name into something sweet and melodic. He knew who I was. I nod in confirmation, offering him a shy smile.

"You look better in person, ma," he leans down closer to be heard over the loud music. The combination of his hot breath fanning over my neck and the endearing nickname sends a shiver down my spine. I feel myself clenching around nothing, my body reacting to his proximity in ways I can't control.

He pulls away, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in my dumbfounded reaction. The tension between us is so palpable, you could cut it with a knife. Our eye contact is intense, locking us in a silent conversation that speaks volumes. The music that was once too loud to bear now fades into the background, practically inaudible as I lose myself in the depths of his piercing blue eyes.

His eyes break our intense gaze for a moment, flickering down to the drink I was holding, catching a glimpse of my cleavage before returning to meet my eyes. "Vodka coke?" he asks, making an assumption based on the empty bottles of Coke, Absolut and Ciroc scattered around the kitchen. I shake my head, correcting him, "Henny." He raises his eyebrows, clearly intrigued. "Didn't know there was Henny here," he remarks with a smile, leaning in again. My nose brushes against his collar, and I catch a whiff of his cologne - Dior Sauvage. Fuck me.

"I brought my own, it's in my bag upstairs," I murmur into his ear, feeling a surge of confidence fueled by his energy. He shoots me another smirk, flashing his perfect teeth. In the dim lighting, I swear I catch a glimpse of a tooth gem on his canine, his big toothy smile making him look like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"You can have some if you want," I bat my lashes at him, now smiling myself. His broad chest rises and falls with a breath before he licks his lips. "I'd love that, mamas," he replies. What a fiend, but I don't mind. He's fine. Call me delusional, but right now, I seriously think I have a chance.

I move my hand to his bicep, feeling it slightly flex at the contact, before running my nails down his arm, eliciting a shiver from him. Reaching his elbow, I pull him gently, and he follows behind me as I navigate through the crowded room and out of the kitchen. His arm hairs raise against my warm touch as I lead him through the mass of people and towards the stairs.

When we reach the stairs, I slide my hand down his arm to his hand, which he eagerly intertwines with mine, locking our fingers together. I start to ascend the stairs, feeling his gaze on me as we climb. I catch him staring at my ass, my dress riding up slightly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. As I turn back to him, his grin matches mine, and I continue up the final step.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I let go of his hand and lead him to the guest bedroom door. I push it open, flicking on the light as I step inside, followed by Chris who shuts the door behind him, the muffled sound of music now fading into the background.

I crouch down and retrieve my handbag from under the bed, pulling out the Hennessy bottle. Placing the cup down on the nightstand, I hear Chris walk beside me. He places one of his large, veiny hands on the small of my back, sending butterflies erupting through my body at the contact. He slides his hand to grip around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder as he watches me fill the remaining half of my drink with the cognac.

I take a sip from my cup as Chris leans over, his body craning over mine as he reaches for the bottle. I turn my head to look up at him, our eyes meeting as he takes a couple swigs before setting the bottle back down. With his hand still on my waist, he turns me around to face him, his touch now lingering just above my ass. I take another sip, holding his intense gaze before leaning back slightly to place the cup down, then stepping closer again.

Our chests are practically touching as he looks down at me with a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if I was his prey.

He licks his plump, pink lips before moving his hand up, his thumb grazing my lip. "Had my eye on you for a while," he mumbles, his voice now coarse with lust. I swallow nervously, eliciting a small, "Yeah?"

He hums in response, a low "mm" before tugging my bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it bounce back into place. His eyes shift up to meet mine for a brief moment before he leans in closer.

Like a magnet, I'm drawn to his movements, leaning in eagerly as our lips meet in a passionate kiss. I taste the Henny on his lips as our lips crash against eachother, his hand moving down to grab my ass, eliciting a gasp from me. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue in, asserting his dominance without hesitation. His other hand stays on my jaw, his thumb caressing it gently before squeezing a bit tighter. Fuck, he was a good kisser.

As he pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connects our now bruised and swollen lips. The intensity of the moment leaves me breathless, my heart racing as I meet his gaze, the desire burning between us palpable.

He leans down, kissing my neck with a fervor that sends shivers down my spine. I feel him suck and slightly bite, causing my breath to hitch in anticipation. As he pulls away with a pop, I hear him admiring the mark before going back in to make it darker. His tongue soothes over the skin before he moves to another spot, eager to leave his mark.

My jaw goes slack as my left hand rests on his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, while my other hand finds its way into his hair, gripping it tightly. He nibbles against my collarbone, causing me to gasp and instinctively tug at his hair, eliciting a groan against my skin that sends vibrations coursing through my body.

He peppers kisses up my neck to just below my ear, across my jawline, before crashing his lips to mine again. This time, the kiss is messier, full of teeth clashing and the sounds of our puckered lips smacking against each other, igniting a fiery passion that consumes us both.

His large hands reach below my thighs, giving them a firm squeeze as he effortlessly lifts me up as if I weighed nothing. I wrap my legs around his torso, maintaining the kiss as he carries me over to the bed. With a gentle drop, he lays me down on the mattress before crawling over my body, his chain dangling over me enticingly.

His lips trail down the exposed skin of my dress, his fists gripping the fabric against my hips as he sits back up on his knees, looming over my body for a moment. His eyes are dark and hooded as he grabs my left ankle, hooking it over his shoulder. He gives it a kiss before leaving a trail of kisses up my leg, sending shivers down my spine as he moves closer to where I need him the most.

My other leg instinctively goes over his left shoulder, causing him to smirk at my eagerness. "My girl's so needy," he teases, one hand rubbing up and down my thigh while his eyes roam hungrily over my body. His other hand pushes the bottom of my dress up, exposing my lower half, and my face flushes with heat.

He presses a kiss against my clit over my lace panties, eliciting a whine from me as my hips buck up, desperate for more. The sensation sends waves of pleasure coursing through me, and I arch my back, craving his touch.

He licks his lips before pulling my panties to the side, instantly in awe of the pooling mess between my legs. I feel his breath fanning over my heat, causing me to writhe, craving his touch. As if reading my mind, he finally reaches up, dragging his fingers up and down my folds, collecting my arousal on his fingers.

I whine against him as he pulls his fingers away and sucks them clean. "So sweet," he mumbles, looking up and holding eye contact with me as I bite my lip, desperate to relieve the tension building inside me.

Finally, he drags his thumb up to circle my clit, and my head instantly throws back, my mouth agape. The tension is finally cut, and it feels so fucking good.

He slaps my thigh, eliciting a moan from my swollen lips. "Look at me," he orders, his voice commanding. I squeeze my eyes shut as he speeds up his movements, the pleasure overwhelming me. With a shaky breath, I crane my head down to look at him.

As I do, he moves behind me, circling around my center with his pointer finger teasingly. His once blue eyes are now blown out with desire, sending a shiver down my spine. I grip the sheets beneath me tightly, my knuckles turning white as I succumb to the intense pleasure coursing through my body.

Suddenly, he dips his finger into me, curling it towards and thrusting instantly. "Fuck, Chris," I whine out, the words slipping from my lips like a porn star. He smirks to himself before adding another finger and speeding up his movements.

My jaw falls slack as I watch the concentration in his eyes, the sound of my wetness music to his ears. The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coursing through me as he expertly works his fingers inside me. Every thrust sends waves of ecstasy crashing over me, and I can't help but moan louder, lost in the bliss of the moment.

I whine in protest as he pulls his hand away, but he uses his grip on my thighs to pull my heat closer to his face. Without hesitation, he dives his face between my folds, shaking his head from side to side. A loud, almost scream escapes my lips as his tongue flicks against my clit at an intense speed, causing me to squirm.

Chris doesn't like my attempt to wriggle away. He lets out an almost animalistic growl, vibrations echoing against me as he grips my hips and pins them down against the bed with a bruising, tight grip. My hands claw at his scalp, tugging at the roots as I'm lost in the overwhelming pleasure.

He moves his tongue down, sloppily making out with my pussy before dipping his tongue into my hole. "Chris," I whine out again, the sensations driving me wild. He repeats the motion, this time going deeper, and I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the knot in my stomach tightening with each delicious lick.

"Say my name, sounds so good coming out of your pretty mouth. Say it louder, baby," he smirks against me, his voice husky with desire. He moves his thumb up to my clit and starts to press against it, circling it with precision while simultaneously tongue-fucking me.

My grip on his hair tightens in response, causing him to groan against me, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through my body. "Chris! Fuck, I'm gonna cum," I cry out, tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming sensation of pleasure coursing through me.

"Cum on my face, baby," he mumbles against me, his eyes flicking up to meet mine, eager to watch me come undone. As soon as the words leave his lips, the tension in my belly snaps.

I let out a high-pitched, pornographic moan as I cum around his face, waves of ecstasy crashing over me. The sensitivity becomes too much to bear as he continues to lick me clean, driving me to the brink of insanity with pleasure.

Finally, he pulls away, leaving me breathless and utterly satisfied, my body still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure. His chin and lips glisten with my arousal as my chest rapidly rises up and down, trying to catch my breath. Sweat causes my baby hairs to stick to my forehead, a testament to the intensity of our encounter.

He slightly smacks my thigh, bringing me back to the present moment. "You taste so fucking sweet, ma,"

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a/n: this was LOOONNGG but i was so close to using seeet sweet by travis scott for this omg. but lmk if u want a pt 2 u nasty freaks 😏

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tag list !!

@iloveneilperry @bernardenjoyer @daddyslilchickenfingers @mbbsgf @sturnvilmed @s1urnioloslvr @mattsbratt @mangoposts @christinarowie332 @recklesssturniolo @bluesturniolo333 @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @pepsiskiess @poopydroopt @byechristopher @solarsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @lustfulslxt @stardustmf444 @thankyounextt @glossyfx @bellasturniolo @justurniolos @cl0esblogg @strumbolisworld @strniolosworld @chrisloyalgf @aliyahsbody @spideylovin @justangelheree @sturnioloenthusiast @nickmillersn1gf @soursturniolo@bernardenjoyer@stuniolobbg @luv4kozume@luvmxtt@urmommysbathroom@lexisecretaccx

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #angst #fluff #smut #imagine

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luna-lovegreat · 6 months

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Wait...

It's November. It's November first. Yesterday was October 31st, so October is over. ...it's over. Is it over?

Inktober, artober, whumptober, flufftober, linktober, every tag ending with -tober that's been circulating for the past month... is it over? I don't know why it's just hit me but...

This matters. So I will try to get the message across, even though I'm not the best at it sometimes

Fanartists, fan writers, artists, fic writers, people making comics, every single one of you that has created art for the past month...

Thank you

This is my first October on tumblr. When I started seeing the "tober" tags, seeing the posts from artists with wips, saying they were going to make something every day to a prompt, making masterposts to update with each day, I thought "cool"

But every day this month, I have gotten on here and smiled.

And I don't mean smiled. I mean I smiled at least 20 times every time I got on the app because I saw all the art and fics. I got to see artists/writers connect stories through different day prompts. I saw people having the most brilliant ideas and creativity, flowing from their hands into their posts. I saw artists responding to continuous asks, telling them how amazing they are. I saw artists getting behind, and keeping going.

I saw Free. Beautiful. Emotional. Amazing. Original. Creative. Art.

Every day

I haven't committed to anything of this before, so I can't directly relate to what you guys were thinking and feeling. But I'm willing to guess; I think you probably enjoyed it, because most won't do such a huge project unless they enjoy it. I think you probably saw it as a challenge you were willing to fulfill, and an opportunity to grow and develop your skills.

... but I'm also willing to bet you did it for us. For people like me, who love art, but don't do this specific type, who are in fandoms, who love tracking and watching you art and sending you compliments, who take joy in your work. For the other artists (and writers!) who admire each others styles and love to learn from each other.

If anyone ever tries to tell me that humans are inherently evil again, I will strap them to a chair, pull up these posts and say look. Look at what these people did. Look me in the eyes and tell me these sorts of actions don't come from the most loving hearts. Tell me these people don't want to make others happy, that they aren't inherently good. And I will tell you you're wrong.

I have so much going on, yet somehow it slipped into my life that I was constantly looking at your art for the joy of it without me even noticing.

And how is it possible. That we have such a beautiful community of people here that we will share. And communicate. And exchange compliments. And literally do things and send asks solely for the purpose of making someone smile.

I'm almost crying by now. God I can't express it well enough! But I am so. So. Grateful

You guys brought me a month of joy! You gave headcanons, and art, and stories!

Even yesterday, Halloween, I was blown away. Because I had expected... I didn't expect anything. And then I log on and see people sending happy halloween asks, exchanging doodles of candy, and headcanons and gifs.

And some are still catching up to the schedule or whatever, and that's ok! But at the beginning of this post, when I was simply realizing it was November, I asked myself "is it over?"

Is it over?

... I don't think so. I've seen artists say they're going to continue and expand on a piece they made and especially liked this month. Some people are still continuing, catching up to a voluntary deadline. All those masterposts with your whump/fluff/link/ink tober art? I know many as well as myself will be going through, looking over your posts with smiles, catching up on some things they missed this month... it will continue in the people and artists I didn't know existed before, but now follow. In the skills and growth in creativity! In the community we've grown, and art you've made, and the art to come, at a normal rate like every other month, even if it's not October anymore!

But my artists, writers... thank you so much. I don't know if you guys know how valuable and amazing you are. How incredible it is that you exist! People say it's amazing we exist under a sky of such stars, but how incredible is it that you made a stranger on the internet smile every day! Your life is so. So. Valuable. I can't even express how grateful I am that you exist, that you somehow are selfless enough to share the most beautiful parts of yourself simply to create, and to create joy. Thank you so so much.

(And this applies to all artists, in any fandoms, not just mine. And I'm just as grateful to people who couldn't do something every day, or only one day! You still share your art, you're just as... incredible. You are incredible.)

Okay.

So I'm gonna do this, and if others want to do it in the reblogs that's great! I do not care at all about reblogging or likes, but I want to make the people that have brought me such joy some appreciation- I hope I can bring you even a smidgen of the light you have brought into my life. So I'm gonna tag all the artists/writers I know of/can think of that have done any sort of October challenge, all of you creators that have made me smile. If people wanna want to tag others in the reblogs or replies to spread love that's cool.

(Basically I don't know social customs or anything at all, so if you don't want me to tag or if I was supposed to do something different or something let me know I have no idea what I'm supposed to do)(if I like accidentally tagged someone who isn't an artist/writer or forgot someone I follow... sorry)

@skyward-floored @kikker-oma @adrift-in-thyme @blueskittlesart @zeldaseyebrows @smilesrobotlover @bahbahhh @soso-dedeck @lennsart @arecaceae175 @illcamp @breannasfluff @solarfire-art @26kabeuchi @cathianemelian @truffeart @scribbly-z-raid @uniquevoidflowers

To all the artists and writers out there: thank you so much!!! You are amazing and I'm glad you exist. Your life is precious, and you matter. Thank you so much for sharing your beauty with us, we love you too!!!!!

... yeah. Just want yall to feel loved... because you are. Again, thank you. Thank you so so much to my beautiful creators who create joy as well as art, who keep storytelling alive. Just... thank you.

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variousqueerthings · 4 months

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something very aromantic coded in s2 of good omens is that crowley and aziraphale canonically take their cues of what a certain kind of relationship ought to look like from books and films. firstly, very relatable, I did much the same thing throughout my teens (and in some ways still do although I'm not trying to make myself "fit" by taking cues that I've been studying to be the correct way to do a relationship, I just enjoy performing them in the same way all life is performance when you're not-doing-body-and-relationship-to-other-bodies correctly inherently)

secondly, how it plays out in them messing unintentionally with nina and maggie. they don't understand the structure of nina's and maggie's whole thing as it applies to the reality of relationship structures in the world they're in; that nina is initially in a romantic relationship and wouldn't just jump from it -- no matter how bad -- straight into another one that was presented as "more" correct. because of course standing under an awning or dancing at a ball makes people "fall in love" (whatever that is) because... well, that's how it happens in the stories all the time, that's what these sorts of relationships are all about, "one fabulous kiss and we're good" -- it's a shock to crowley that he misread all the cues "you were crying and she was..." isn't that what this romance thing is that humans are always talking about????

thirdly it of course eventually circles around to be about what in the world their relationship is, but when they're trying to figure out what's going on between the two of them, there aren't any words that can neatly sum it up beyond "us" -- whatever it is, it's "us" against "them" (although aziraphale isn't quite ready for that) -- the them being heaven and hell of course, but to be honest, from an aro perspective, the "them" takes on certain human connotations to me as well, because it's all about how these two don't fit into structures and are punished for this not-fitting-in, and while they're not punished by the humans around them, they also aren't... human. they still operate somewhat from the outside of everyone else, even though aziraphale manages throughout history to create a fair few connections from the sounds of things

similarly to how they do it to nina and maggie, they try on these tropes with one another: aziraphale invites crowley to dance, crowley kisses aziraphale, and it doesn't fit quite right (the first because crowley is concerned with all the demons outside and so isn't paying as much attention to the dancing part of the whole thing, and the second because [insert another bunch of analysis here that's its own post]), but they've already been us the whole time. their attempts at explaining using alloromantic shorthand fall short, because they're hampered by needing to define themselves and their relationship with terminology that's suitably correct for whatever dominant structures they're in

fourthly, the fact that their cues for what their relationship needs to be shouldn't even really be coming from movies/books and humanity in the first place, it should be coming from gabriel and beelzebub. gabriel and beelzebub don't even try all of that "this is what romance is," they don't call one another romantic or kiss or even say words like partner, they're not interested in doing human-based customs or "fitting in." their language for one another is based around that song, and that's as much defining as it needs. whatever aziraphale and crowley are to one another is equally all their own thing, but aziraphale and crowley struggle with definitions constantly. they don't fit into heaven, they don't fit into hell, and humanity -- while more the place they've adopted for all its wild wonders -- isn't quite right either, because they're still being put in a box

it was fun to look out for as I was rewatching, because the way they interacted with alloromanticism really did read like two people who have exactly zero idea of how this applies irl, but that's okay, the fiction's got it handled, all they have to do is copy-paste = result, but then the stuff that actually is the romance in those texts becomes a series of contextless tropes, kind of like how amatonormativity often has those exact same tropes recycled in story after story that can't figure out why it worked the first time but not the next hundred times, except in this story it's on purpose. one fabulous kiss did not in fact solve things at all (nor was it fabulous)

#good omens #anthony jemima crowley #crowley #aziraphale #a/c #aziracrow #been going forwards and backwards on whether to tag but i think that's just the struggle we as aros always go through #yes they're ineffable and yes that means they're too big to be described #but a slash will do the trick for now #good omens meta

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thechekhov · 5 months

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Hello! Just wanted to say I love all your content but I wanted to ask if you had any advice/tips for running curse of strahd? I'm working on getting ready to run it with some friends/my partner and while I've run a fair amount of homebrew stuff this is my real first attempt at a legit module so I was curious if you could share anything since I believe you also are running/had run that module as well?

Thanks for asking! This is a very fun question!

I have indeed run Curse of Strahd. It was my first foray into long-term DMing and my team and I finished that campaign a little under a year ago. It was awesome, and I'm always excited to talk about it. Curse of Strahd had be a great game if everyone is on the same page!

First of all, I'm gonna say

Having Experience with Homebrew will be a huge boon

When I ran CoS, I followed the actual module about... 60% of the time. It was good... as a baseline/blueprint. But the reality is that I changed up a lot of the details. Either because I didn't like the vibes of the story, or because the plot points were antithetical to my team's goals. I changed up an entire floor of Ravenloft. I threw away a whole storyline for a major NPC because I felt it was too boring.

I think most people who run Curse of Strahd do this, actually. I've heard countless tales of how others Homebrewed their own meat onto the skeleton, and still came out of the campaign with an awesome, Strahd flavored experience. So don't worry about that part.

Here's my advice:

1. Everyone should vibe with what Strahd IS as a game.

Strahd can be a lot of things - you can Homebrew your own motivations into him, or make him a her, or change the history of his castle if need be. But if there's one thing Curse of Strahd is... it is DARK.

The Venn Diagram of Parties Who Understand That Suffering Can Be Fun To Roleplay and Parties Who Had A Good Time Doing CoS is probably a circle. You cannot do this adventure with a group of people who just want to hit monsters a whole bunch. It's an inherently 'oh my god this SUCKS' adventure. That's the main theme. Your players need to be able to enjoy that sort of game, otherwise they will just be miserable.

One of my players, upon arriving in Barovia, immediately said 'I hate it here' and then continued to say it for the rest of the campaign. That is kind of the catchphrase of CoS. Your players need to be comfortable with that sort of bleak horror and overall misery. It makes the end and the potential to finally end Strahd worth it.

That being said, Strahd can also just be... a lot. It has death and torture and psychological horror in there. KIDS DIE. Please discuss this stuff with your table, and remove elements if they guarantee a bad experience for everyone!

(Yes, you can trim down some of the viscera if you need to, that's fine. But keep in mind it will still be tragic. It SHOULD still be tragic. I set some boundaries for myself, but I also killed a whole town in an avalanche. It happened to be the only town my players had grown to like. It was a dick move. It was exactly what you would expect to happen.)

2. Read ahead - A LOT AHEAD.

For a self-contained world, Barovia isn't actually that big. It's a very small map, compared to some that span continents. That means you have the ability to flesh it out, as it were.

To add to that... some areas are... severely underdeveloped plot-wise. Sometimes there are places your players will go where it FEELS like it should link up to another point in the game but it just... doesn't. There is room to expand there. Use your Homebrew skills to connect the dots that the module doesn't!

I greatly recommend taking the time to either read through the whole adventure OR listen through some video-essays. There IS some cool stuff that comes in in the later game that you can grab and put down breadcrumbs for from day one. Or add to your own story twists.

My recommended resource for this is the Curse of Strahd DM's Guide video series.

...and to that end...

3. Start living in Ravenloft Castle WAY before your players get there.

Listen..........listen. look.

Look at this, and suffer as all GMs have suffered.

Castle Ravenloft is unarguably the biggest, stupidest, most architecturally ludicrous hurdle when it comes to GMing CoS. And I am here to tell you - IT IS DOABLE.

You can understand the castle, you can grow comfortable with it. But you need to start early. Hell, I think I began to set up Ravenloft maps before my players even knew it existed. Then I stopped, because I was scared.. but then I went back, and I.... roleplayed SOLO on my off-days! I set up little scenes between Strahd and others and imagined him setting traps, and doing other things. It helped me understand which staircase led to where, and what floors were accessible from which angles.

A part of me actually thinks that there should be a mini GMs-only class where a more experienced Strahd GM takes some time with other GMs to guide them through a map of the castle. A CoS Learning Oneshot, if you will.

There's also a LOT of talented mapmakers that create beautiful, digital CoS maps! Here's one:

Even if you are playing analogue, at a physical table, I greatly encourage you to check it out for reference. The official CoS maps are bleak and a little bit more... rustic? Than they are gothic.

Anyway, in order to avoid talking your ear off, I will end it here.

My last bit of advice is... to have fun!

Yes I know I just said that Strahd is an inherently bad-vibes game. But it's actually GOOD to let your players goof off now and then. Don't be afraid to let them do shenanigans. It builds character, and allows them to regain the energy they need to role-play properly heavy elements later.

My group did a whole bunch of funny stuff. They felt so bad about losing Ireena that when they saw Ismark, instead of explaining themselves to him they cast Darkness and tried to scramble away. There was a running joke that the cleric was too good to know about sex, so they used the euphemism 'play cards' around her, much to everyone's amusement. They got kicked by a walking house once and never forgot nor forgave. And finally, they defeated some Flame Skulls by putting them into a bag of holding.

Anyway, the point is... have fun! I wish you and your party the best of luck. :)

#chekhov answers #curse of strahd #cos #ttrpg #dnd #5e #d&d #cos 5e

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goodluckclove · 16 days

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I've been meaning to say something. (100 follower hot take)

Hey! Thanks for stopping by. I hope you've had a nice day. Why don't you rest with me for a while? I made some chocolate chip cookies - with shortening instead of butter, so they're very soft and very chocolatey. I made way too many and they aren't my wife's favorite, so I could use some help in eating them.

You're probably a writer, right? Or maybe you think about how you could be. Browse the tags here, or on other social media platforms. Maybe you used to write stories as a kid. I bet those were fun. Teachers might've thought they were impressive, or they dissected them line by line until the words didn't make sense in your head anymore. Either way, if you're here you're probably here for a reason.

(rant alert)

I dipped a toe in online writing communities on and off. My last attempt was forty-five minutes scrolling through the writing hashtag on Youtube Shorts (so TikTok, I guess? I don't know). I didn't like it. I really didn't. The thing that sticks out the strongest in my mind is one particular video where a woman claims that every story needs a second act plot twist.

Huh? Every story? All of them? Why? Since when? Who are you? What qualifications do you have to make a statement like that?

That's the common thread that makes a lot of writing spaces very uncomfortable for me. Successful writers are really only successful in their genre and for the given moment, so they don't have that much objective authority in the craft. And yet I see a lot of people deciding the things that you can't do in writing. Or the things you have to do, and how you have to do them. It was so much of Writeblr at first glance that I almost dipped out once again. I didn't, though, and I'm glad I didn't because now I get to watch some of the next great storytellers from across the world grow and examine and forge their way forward.

No one can teach you how to write. No, that's not true. Teachers teach literacy. Handwriting. Typing maybe - do schools still teach typing? Let me try saying it in a different way - no one, not one single person on this goddamned planet, has the right to tell you how to make a story.

I was supposed to get my MFA in creative writing before my first breakdown. My uncle stayed in the program I was meant to be in, and a few years after I dropped out he graduated. Recently I had the thought to look up his thesis novella, and as I searched I found myself regretting my decision to leave school. If I stayed and got to develop my writing in an actual class, with other writers and a knowledgeable professor, how much further along would I be than where I am right now?

It was bad. His novella was terrible. It was so bad I had a small existential crisis for, like, three days. He spent so much money on years and years of professional education and came out with a truly soulless story that read as if you prompted an AI to write the next Great American Novel. So if you think you need a writing degree to be a legitimate author, it could help connections-wise, but it ultimately won't be the thing that does the work for you.

Not all advice I see online on writing is bad. I find the people who are able to capture the "I" statements of therapy and phrase advice as things that have worked for them, or things that they personally enjoy, to be fine. Some writing advice can spark inspiration.

But if someone is the type of person to boil every story down to troupes and cliches, and then immediately say that every story that uses the trait they don't like is automatically bad for everyone? I'm dropping the kindness for a second - that's trash. That's a trash take and I see far too many writers use it as a reason to stop before they begin.

I don't like whump. I say my reasons in previous posts if you go back through my blog. But you will never hear me say that any story with whump in it is bad, because I don't know that. You might prove me wrong. I am an adult human being and I have the humility to admit that I can like something I didn't expect to. I genuinely enjoy the direction of The Human Centipede (only the first one) and if you cringed just now that probably means you haven't seen it.

There are so many types of books and movies and plays and comics out there. To enjoy a specific genre is fine, to ignore the existence of everything else is a really, really, really odd thing to do. Maybe someone will hate your story because they think everything should be Neil Gaiman, and therefore have no way to understand your epistolary high-Western. You are not the wrong end of that situation just for existing.

And at there is a definite threshold on how many writing tips you can gather before they stop being useful. If you find them interesting, that's one thing. That's fine. But if the culture of creativity online has made you feel like you need to educate yourself on every possible angle before you can write a story, you are actively harming yourself.

Imagine taking the level of structure you put on yourself in that way and putting it on children playing pretend in the backyard. Oh, Susie, don't you know that it's overdone for your Kitsune have dead parents? Xyler, shouldn't you ask someone else before you decide how Spiderman would react to this? It would make no sense and they do not need it. Kids will make a whole world out of nothing and it's the most fucked thing in my heart that at some point they get access to Reddit and dipshits start insisting that's wrong.

They aren't wrong and you aren't either. Your favorite creative influencer can't tell you your story, strangers on the internet can't tell you your story, your teachers and loved ones can't tell you your story. They can influence it, but they can't write it honestly the way you can.

You do that. That's the thing you do.

Man that makes me upset. I can't tell you how to make a story, either. If anyone sends me asks for writing advice the most I'll do is say what I've done before hopping into your DMs and starting a direct conversation. it's so personal to each individual artist, and I'd like to think that the people selling these classes and software and promoting these platforms haven't thought about that before. Otherwise it does feel manipulative. If you have a willingness to practice and imagine and really experiment with the possibilities, you are ready to write your story.

And if it doesn't work? Try again. That's what you do.

Stephen King has written roughly a thousand books and maybe five of them have decent endings. He is unimaginably successful.

I'm rambling now. I think I got that out of my system. I was really worried to say this out of fear of being too weird or somehow reverse-gatekeeping so hard that it circles back into also being a bad thing. I've just spoken to a lot of people who I still think of throughout my day, and I truly ache for them to get past the fear of creation. Because it's worth it. It's worth it and it's fun, even when it's messy and you're tired.

Let it Be just came on. Beatles. I haven't listened to The Beatles in a long time. Feels a little apropos.

I love you, reader. Reader, Writer, Colleague. Take care of yourself. Especially the little you, still sitting there in the backyard of your soul, bathing in the sun with their bare feet in the damp earth.

Consider joining them, maybe.

#writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #queer writers #authors of tumblr #on writing #writing #actually writing #writing resources #writing tips #writing help #writing advice #how to write #writing tips and tricks #writers supporting writers

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americaswritings · 1 year

Text

When we fall | Part 1

Warnings (for all parts): Fluff, angst!!, description of injuries, blood, violence, use of guns, mentions of death, probably unaccurate policing/medicine

Summary: You moved to Chicago to start a new life. Working as a doctor alongside your brother Connor you make new friends and although you swore to yourself not to let any man in your life at least for a while, your promises fail when you lock eyes with a handsome stranger in a bar.

Words: 6k

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Doctor!Rhodes!reader

A/N: I just started watching Chicago PD (I'm on season 3 now) after I've been watching Fire and Med for years now. I just can't stand Voight so I only began watching for Jay and Burzek! And I am so in love with Jay. Please, this man is perfect. Just look at that handsome face!!

This is going to be a 3 part series I wrote on a whim. Originally I only planned on writing one scene, but then I figured it needed a backstory so this happened...

I have to say I am really proud how it turned out. I was just in such a flow when I wrote it that the story basically wrote itsself. I hope you enjoy and that the characters feel true to themselves :)

You had only began working at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center a few months ago, hesitant to work alongside your brother but knowing it was an opportunity, which would be stupid not to take.

Having moved to Chicago recently to be close with your brother after a messy break-up, you were still adjusting to your new life.

It was why you were more than relieved when you got along well with your co-workers, especially Natalie and her boyfriend Will.

They were understanding of your situation, were never bothered to show you where to find something at the hospital and made you feel welcome from the beginning as they invited you in on their group plans and joked like you were old friends.

Although you still felt a little uncertain at times to work with your brother, who had made himself a name as a brilliant trauma and cardiothoracic surgeon, he had been supportive since your decision to leave your old town behind and start a new life in Chicago.

Maybe, you thought, coming here had been exactly what you needed. A fresh start, a new beginning with new friends and no men to mess with your heart. At least for now.

“I told you I have sworn off men”, you sighed, shaking your head in amusement at Natalie’s try to play matchmaker. “They’re trouble. I don’t need that in my life right now.”

“Hey!” Will send you a look, though you knew he wasn’t mad. “She’s not wrong though”, April stated and Ethan next to her grinned. “I mean it though”, you said directed at Natalie. “I just want to focus on myself right now. My job. No dating for now.”

Everyone at the table nodded and you relaxed, glad you had found these people, who respected and supported you. “Cheers to that!” April raised her glass and you did the same when you noticed yours was empty.

With a groan you pushed yourself out of your seat and up, gesturing towards the bar. “I’m going to get another drink. Anyone want something?” They all shook their heads, already moving onto another topic.

As you made your way over to the counter you studied the people around you, trying to determine who was a cop, a firefighter and who a regular. Right in the beginning the others had introduced you to Mollys, claiming it was Chicago’s bar where first responders spend their time after shift.

Figuring it might come in handy to memorize some faces you let your gaze drift over the sea of people, recognizing a few men that Connor had once told you worked at the CFD. They were laughing loudly, beers in hand as they seemed to be talking enthusiastically about something.

At the table next to theirs your gaze came to a hold, your eyes caught by a man you had never seen before but looked slightly familiar. Your brows furrowed as you rummaged in your head for something that connected you to him, but you couldn’t find anything.

The people who sat with him didn’t look familiar either, consisting of men and one woman with chestnut hair. Your eyes drifted back to the man, who had caught your attention, his brown hair styled neatly and his hands wrapped around a bottle of beer that he just raised to his lips.

You didn’t meant to stare, but you were mesmerized, torn between trying to determine why he looked so familiar and captured by his effortless handsomeness.

He wore a green shirt, making you think his eyes were the same shade, although it was hard to know with the distance between you.

He seemed relaxed, leant back in his seat but listening to the others conversation attentively. Having sensed someone’s eyes on him he suddenly looked up, his eyes searching the room for a split second before they fell onto you.

Your face heat up as a blush crept up your cheeks, knowing you had missed your chance to turn away. The man raised his brows slightly, in confusion just as much as amusement it seemed, before he lightly lifted his bottle, as if he was saying cheers.

You clutched your glass a little tighter, glad that it had been refilled in the time you had spent gawking at him, and copied the movement, an unstable smile on your lips. Then you turned away, meeting Stella’s gaze from the other side of the bar.

The two of you had met when she had been at the hospital for smoke inhaling a while ago and you had clicked almost instantly, connected by your determination to hold your own in a field still dominated by men. And by your past with toxic relationships as you found out later.

“What was that?”, she asked, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of her lips as her eyes flickered between you and the man behind you. A part of you wanted to ask if he was still watching you, the other longed to forget it had ever happened.

“I don’t know.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Can we just forget it ever happened?”

Stella’s face lit up, her curls dancing around her face as she shook her head. “Yeah, you wish. But that was definitely something.”

You exhaled, pinching your nose. “Thank you for the drink.” You saw Stella open her mouth in protest at your ignoration of her words, but before she could say anything else you send her an apologetical smile and hurried off.

No one seemed to have noticed your encounter and you slipped into the booth with ease, trying hard not to steal another glance at the unknown man a few tables away.

No men, you reminded yourself. Right now you needed to focus on getting your life together, not getting your heart broken by a handsome stranger.

“Dr. (Y/l/n)?” “Yeah?”, your head shot up from where you had filled out paper work. Because Connor and you were only half-sibling, you didn’t share the same last name, something you had been more than glad over when stepping foot in this hospital for the first time.

No one knew where you came from and that you shared genes with the successful Dr. Rhodes and you had left it at that at first, wanting to make your own impression first before dropping the information.

You could still remember their shocked faces, the questions, but most of all the excitement as they asked what Connor had been like growing up. If you had any embarrassing stories to tell or photos to show.

You didn’t, keeping them to yourself for now, because you hadn’t come here to make fun of your brother. He had been your rock through your breakup and your move here, something you were so grateful for you feared you would never be able to show him just how much.

“We have someone hit bit a bullet waiting in the three.” Your eyes widened. “Why didn’t they come with an ambulance?”, you asked, grabbing your iPad along the way.

Maggie waved off your comment, chuckling. “Cops. You know how they are.”

Actually, you didn’t. Coming from a small town you had no experience with shootings and gangs and many of the other trauma causes that were common here in Chicago. It was why you had been so excited about your job offer at the hospital.

Although you were still adjusting to the changes of living in a city and there were downsides you hadn’t considered before, you liked it. It felt so different, giving you the sense that in this city everything could be possible.

So many options and so many possibilities, as if you could completely reinvent yourself. It was thrilling, making you wonder how you had ever lived without the adrenaline rush of stepping into a busy ER.

Quickly scanning the information on your tablet you pulled open the curtain, clamping the iPad under your arm as you disinfected your hands.

“Hi, I’m doctor (y/l/n) and you are?” You glanced up, startled as you met the eyes of a familiar stranger. The man in front of you grinned, seemingly better at covering up his surprise. “Shouldn’t it say my name on your tablet?”

He didn’t sound rude, only a little sarcastic and perhaps even teasing. You gulped, trying to recompose yourself. “Right. I just prefer getting to know my patients myself than just relying on numbers and letters.”

You didn’t see his reaction when you grabbed your iPad again, glancing down at it. “So your name is Jay Hal-” “Halstead”, he finished for you and you looked up at him again.

It made sense now, why he had seemed so familiar to you nights ago at Mollys. “You’re Will’s brother.” The man in front of you, Jay, as you knew now, raised a brow. “Have you considered becoming a detective?”

He was mocking you, again, and you were tempted to smack him with your iPad. “So-”, he paused, letting his eyes drift over you. You felt your body tense under his gaze, cop’s eyes, and stood a little straighter.

“You were watching me at Mollys.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, biting your tongue. You could only hope the embarrassment that began to sink in didn’t show.

“I was not watching you”, you stated and he raised a brow, daring you to explain yourself. “I just thought you looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. Now it makes sense.”

You turned halfway towards the door, gesturing to the halls where somewhere his brother was treating another patient.

“I don’t think that’s the whole truth.”

You almost gasped at the confidence in his voice, instead blowing out a breath. “It definitely was.”

He shook his head, smiling. “I don’t buy it.”

There were many things you wanted to say to him, but you swallowed them, knowing it was no use. He clearly enjoyed teasing you, so you wouldn’t give him more fuel.

Instead you let out a sigh, shifting into professionality. “So, Mr. Halstead”, you began. “Jay is fine.” You tried not to let his interruption let you lose your string again and nodded. “Jay, you’re here for a bullet wound on your left upper arm?”

Jay nodded, his eyes- they really were green- bright. Pulling on your gloves you decided it was time to reclaim your own position a little. “And you decided to just walk in here instead of coming with an ambulance? Seems a little reckless, don’t you think?”

He raised one brow at your question. “It’s just a graze. I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for my boss.” He rolled his eyes, making you wonder what his boss was like.

“Seems like your boss is a lot smarter than you”, you muttered, but to your surprise Jay grinned. “You’re new here, right? At least I’ve never seen you here before. Do you always talk to patients like that?”

You shrugged, unbothered by his words as you stepped close to him to take a look at his arm. You didn’t know what had gotten into you to talk to him like that, but you had the feeling with him it was fine. That he could take it, perhaps even enjoyed it over your dry professionalism.

“Only to the ones I like best”, you said with sarcasm in your voice, too focused on inspecting his wound to check his expression.

Jay didn’t move under your touch, allowing you to move his arm before you let it go again. He had done this before, probably multiple times. It was why he was so unbothered, perhaps even annoyed to waste his time here on something that seemed unsignificant to him.

For a moment you were tempted to ask him how he could choose a job that demanded such sacrifice, but you didn’t know him and you doubted he would give you an honest answer. Not that you could blame him. You were practically strangers.

And was your job much different? Although you had never been hurt and doubted it would ever happen, you were still making countless of sacrifices for it. Taking on extra shifts, working through the nights, staying longer to take more time for your patients and putting their health over your own sometimes.

“It’s just a graze shot”, you said when you were done inspecting the wound, ignoring his look that seemed to say “told you”.

“But you still need to be careful with it. Give it rest, avoid any rapid movements, don’t lift too heavy with it…I think you know.”

Jay nodded, watching you remove your gloves. “Does that happen often?” He tilted his head in question and you bit your lip. “I mean, you- getting shot on the job.”

“Are you asking if I come here often?” His lips were curled into a lopsided grin, looking way too handsome on his features. You rolled your eyes at his teasing, ignoring the way your heart beat a little faster in your chest. “Forget it”, you stated, throwing your gloves into the bin.

“I am going to tell one of the residents to come and bandage the wound. Then you’re free to go.”

But before you could move the curtain again and leave the room you heard Jay’s voice behind you. “Wait.”

You paused, turning back to him slowly. For the first time he wore a serious expression, his jaw twitching.

“I’m with the Intelligence”, he stated, in a way that told you the name should ring a bell. It didn’t. You were too new to know much about it.

Jay seemed to sense it by your lack of a reaction to his words. “We’re…very involved in the City.”

Whatever that meant. You tilted your head in question. “You mean with the gangs?”

Jay shifted. “Voight, my boss, he can be very- intense.”

You nodded slowly, taking in his guarded expression. It was a topic you wouldn’t pry at. “And you’re okay with it? I mean- you’re just so…casual about this.”

You bit your lip, hesitant to ask him but curious as well. The cops in your home town had barely ever used their weapon to the point you sometimes even doubted they were able to.

Jay shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I worked for the CPD I was in the army. I’ve been through a lot worse than a graze. Getting shot at is just another part of my job.”

A veteran.

In such a short amount of time Jay had revealed so much to you. Suddenly you had a lot more respect for the man in front of you and you wondered if that was his way of coping, covering up his battle wounds and scars with sarcasm and wit.

You swallowed, trying to find words. But none seemed fitting. “Sounds like I will be seeing you here often then.” You kept your voice emotionless, although the thought of seeing Jay regularly made your heart speed up a little. Of course you would prefer different circumstances.

Damn his handsome face and wit.

He grinned slightly, shifting the atmosphere back to something lighter. “Don’t get too excited. I prefer staying bullet free.” “As you should.”

Typing something into your iPad you gave Jay a final nod. “Stay safe out there.” Then you turned to the door, already halfway out when you heard his voice again.

“I don’t even know your name.”

You froze, smiling to yourself when you tried not to put too much weight into the fact that he had called you back a second time. It seemed almost as if he didn’t want you to leave just yet.

But you pushed the thought aside, knowing it was pointless. You couldn’t let yourself get distracted so easily.

Turning back to him you put on a polite smile.

“You’re a detective, figure it out.”

You were surprised by your own confidence, but with Jay you didn’t feel shy or insecure. He made you feel like you could say anything and he wouldn’t mind. The type of man that didn’t get upset easily, so comfortable with who he was that it took a lot to get him to lose his temper.

“I could just ask my brother, you know.”

You shrugged, unimpressed. “If that lets you sleep at night, sure.”

You left the room smiling to yourself and it took you another few minutes to calm your rapid heart and collect yourself.

“You didn’t tell me you have a brother!” “What?” Will looked up from the computer, startled by the way you had barged into the break room.

Your shift was over and you couldn’t wait to get home and relax on the couch, but before that you needed to talk to Will. Because after encountering the other Halstead your mind hadn’t been able to let go of what had happened between the two of you. The way he had looked at you, teased you. How he had made you feel nervous and confident in just a matter of moments.

“Why didn’t you tell me you have a brother?” You leaned on the desk, sure that you had Will’s full attention now. “You didn’t tell us you had a brother the first few weeks either.”

“That’s different.” You shook your head. “And I did tell you. So…?”

Will leaned back in his chair, stretching his back. “I didn’t think it mattered. I would have introduced you eventually but- wait, is Jay here?”

You bit your tongue, feeling a little caught. You hadn’t thought that maybe Jay didn’t want his brother to know what had happened. But it was too late now, and anyway, how should you have known?“

"He was. He is fine though.” You kept your words vague, aware that you weren’t allowed to share personal information with Will. Even if they were brothers.

Will let out a sigh. “That idiot. Probably got himself in trouble again.” He reached for his phone across the desk and you quickly got up, straightening.

“You didn’t get it from me”, you threw in before Will could drag you into it and he looked up at you with curiosity in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to mention you.”

“Oh.” You nodded, feeling relieved yet a little flustered. Will studied you with attentive eyes, reminding you of his brother for a second before his expression shifted into suspicion.

“So you met Jay.” He said it in a way that proposed something meaningful behind his words, but you couldn’t figure out why. “I did.” You shifted your weight to the balls of your feet before swaying forward again. A nervous habit. “I bet he’s the younger one.”

“He is, yeah.”

You suppressed a grin. It made so much sense. “So I should probably head home now. I got the early shift tomorrow.”

“Right.” Will nodded, the phone in his hands seemingly forgotten as his eyes were still fixed on you. “Did something happen between you and my brother?”

Your heart sank a little. Were you really so obvious? “I told you I’ve sworn off men. And your brother is- annoying.”

You wished the last part didn’t sound like it came straight from a five year old’s mouth, but it was too late to take back.

“Trust me, I know that.” Will let out a sigh, but you could see the fondness in his eyes. The gesture alone told you they had a close relationship.

A cop and a doctor. What a pair.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Weeks had passed since you had last seen Jay. He hadn’t shown up in the hospital again, which you were both glad for and disappointed at, and since you had been taking on extra shifts for a sick co-worker, you had spent almost all your time at the hospital or passed out in your bed.

“You haven’t gone out with us in weeks!” Sylvie was currently trying to convince you to come to Mollys. You had gotten to know her through Stella and the two of you had gotten along well, her sweet and kind nature something that made you feel comfortable around her instantly.

Although you had quickly learned not to underestimate the girl. She was working with a bunch of guys after all and had learned to stand her ground with them.

Sylvie could be very persistent, you realized again when she had called you to invite you to a girl’s night out. “Stella won’t be working today, so it’s our chance to spend the night as just us girls.”

You gnawed your lip, thinking. You were tired, craving your couch and tv more than going out again, but Sylvie wasn’t wrong, you had been mostly on your own the past days. Being a little social and getting out of your own apartment would probably be good.

“Urgh, fine”, you groaned. “But you’re paying my first drink.” You knew Sylvie was smiling triumphantly on the other end of the line. “Deal.” “Now get your ass over here!” It was Stella’s voice in the background and you chuckled. “You are the worst!”

“And you love us anyway”, she chirped and you hung up, shaking your head with a smile on your face.

You hadn’t thought about impressing anyone when getting ready, but you were more than glad you had put a little effort into your outfit and make-up when you stepped into Molly’s that night, your getup like a wall build around you.

“You came!” Stella crossed the room, her voice loud enough for a couple of heads to turn towards you. You could kill her for drawing attention to you, but you forced a smile onto your lips instead, trying not to look at anyone except her.

“Hey”, you muttered, shrugging out of your coat and hugging her. “Wow, girl you look stunning!” Stella’s eyes flashed up and down your body as she let go, a smirk on her face.

“A little quieter, please?”, you almost whispered, aware that you still had the attention of the people around you. Stella seemed either completely oblivious to it all or unbothered, because she grinned at you. “Looking like that you will draw attention to you whether you like it or not!”

You felt your cheeks heat up a little, glad when you spied Sylvie making her way over. “I told her not to make a scene, but she wouldn’t listen. You know how she is!”

You hugged her too, smiling as Stella let out a breath. “I did not make a scene. And I’m standing right here, you know?”

Laughing, the three of you made your way to the back, where you slipped into a booth, your drink already waiting for you. “You know me so well”, you told Stella as you took your first sip, relaxing a little now that the attention had mostly vanished.

“I got you, girl!” Stella winked at you, before launching into a story about their newest rescue. Soon you were enveloped in laughter and smiles, the stress of the last days forgotten for the night.

Only when Stella declared it was time for another round of drinks you felt the exhaustion return to your body. “I think I’m going to head home”, you told them, stretching a little in your seat. “Early shift tomorrow?”, Sylvie asked and you nodded.

“You’re way too selfless, taking on all these extra shifts”, Stella pointed out, but you waved her off. “I’m the new one, so it’s fine. Helps me get to know everyone and everything better and it’s not like I have much to do in this city yet. I only got my gym membership, but I didn’t really have time to look for anything else.”

“See? That’s exactly why you need time off! You should be out exploring the city!” You smiled at Stella’s enthusiasm. “It’s not like it won’t be here tomorrow. I’m planning on staying here, so there’s plenty of time to get to know it all.”

Sylvie offered you a smile. “I’m glad you do. I know it can be quite an adjustment to move to a big city like Chicago, but it will feel like your home in no time.”

You felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest as you thought back to the past months, which had been filled with nothing but heartbreak, loss and a turmoil of emotions. Even as you had decided to start a new life in Chicago, you had been filled with fear and uncertainty, scared to make the wrong call yet again.

Never could you have imagined to find a job, that was so challenging, but gave you a sense of purpose and a group of friends, that felt like you had met them long ago.

“It already kind of does”, you admitted, your eyes fixed on the empty glass in front of you before you looked up at them again. They both looked at you with big smiles on their faces and you almost felt tears fill your eyes. It had been a long day.

“We should do this more often”, you told them as you got up and grabbed your coat. “That’s what I said!” Stella nodded.

“And I still need to show you that spinning class. You would love it!” Sylvie sounded so excited that you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I am sure. Just text me and we’ll find something.”

“And you’re sure you can’t stay longer?”

Your eyes drifted to the counter as you considered staying for another drink, but your body felt heavy and almost sore from the day’s work. “Next time. But you two have fun and don’t drink too much”, you winked at them.

As you excited the bar you waved towards a few familiar faces before pulling your coat closer around your body to prepare yourself for Chicago’s cold.

Still you shivered as you stepped outside, pulling out your phone to order an Uber. Something you had only done once before, on your way here, but was an easy and quick way of getting around the city.

It would take a few minutes for your driver to arrive and you realized it would have been a lot smarter to wait inside, but you hadn’t thought of it then and you felt too proud to step inside again.

Pressing your hands together you rubbed them against each other a few times to create heat, before slinging your arms around your torso. Chicago’s harsh winters wasn’t something you hadn’t gotten used to yet, but the promise of snow lingering in the air made it almost worth it.

You heard the faint sound of the door opening and closing behind you so you took a step to the side of the building, not wanting to stand in the way of whoever had just left the bar.

To your surprise the person came to stand beside you, his presence alarming you until you glanced up to find none other than Jay Halstead standing next to you.

Immediately your body relaxed again, as if it knew by instinct his presence meant safety. “That was quite an entrance”, he greeted you, referring to the moment you had stepped into Molly’s.

You felt your cheeks flush at the memory, hoping he couldn’t see it in the dim light of the streetlamp. “I didn’t know you were here.” You kept your eyes trained at the empty street in front of you, willing and dreading the moment your driver came to pick you up.

“I was with the unit”, he said and you turned your head towards him. “Are you here often?” He shrugged, his eyes darting to the building. “I guess so, yeah. It’s the place where everyone comes.”

You nodded silently, contemplating his words. “But if I want to be alone, I go to the bar at the corner North Milwaukee Avenue.” You met his eyes curiously. Was he making recommendations, because you were new in the city or did he have another intention?

“So bars and hospitals. Everywhere else I can expect to run into Jay Halstead?” You didn’t know why you asked, but a part of you wanted to know. Wanted to know more about him, what his life was like, what made him who he was.

Jay grinned faintly. “You make it sound like I’ve got issues.” “Do you? Have issues?” You were teasing and he smirked. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t think I have.” Even as you said it you knew your words couldn’t be farer from the truth. Hadn’t your issues been what had led you here?

Jay watched you for a moment, seemingly picking up on your change of mood, but sensing you weren’t ready to talk about it. You appreciated it, welcoming the silence to sort your thoughts again.

“So what led you here to Chicago?” His question was innocent and something you had been asked countless of times since your move here, but for some reason you felt the urge to be open with him. No lies or excuses.

And even if Jay barely knew you, you thought he would be able to pick up on it. He must be an excellent detective.

“There were some…things I needed to leave behind.” It was vague, but more than you had told most who had asked. Only the girls knew about your breakup, but even with them you hadn’t shared many details.

Jay didn’t ask further, his grave expression suggesting he understood you better than you might have thought. “Why Chicago?” You glanced away from him, taking in the empty road, the skyline with its lights in the background. “I needed a fresh start, somewhere where no one knew who I am. And I got family here, so it made sense.”

You could feel his eyes on you and you swallowed before facing him again. For a moment your eyes locked, none of you saying anything as you started at each other. Jay was the first one to break the heavy atmosphere, a smile dancing at his lips.

“But you’re not a criminal on the run, are you? Because I would have to arrest you, if you were.” The tension that had risen in your body at the mention of your past vanished and you grinned, relieved about his ability to lighten the atmosphere. “What gave it away?”

Jay leaned a little closer, his eyes glistening. “Maybe the way you always look over your shoulder-” You inhaled. Was that really something you did? “-or that you’re nervous around me, a cop.”

The air you had held escaped you in a surprised sound and you hugged your torso a little tighter. “I’m not nervous around you”, you huffed, shaking your head. Jay grinned.

“How is your arm by the way?” You weren’t interested in talking about yourself any longer, shifting the topic onto him. Your gazes travelled down his arm where his jacket was covering the wound you had inspected. It seemed like forever ago and like yesterday at once.

“It’s good. Voight’s keeping me at a leash, make sure I’m 100% before I get into the field again.” He said it like it wasn’t a big deal, but you could hear the strain in his voice. He missed it, being out there on the streets.

“Sounds reasonable to me.” “Yeah.” Jay nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. It seemed like you weren’t the only one with secrets.

You looked up at the sound of a car nearing, a black car approaching the two of you. Checking your phone you held it up. “That’s my ride.”

But you only managed one step towards it before Jay pulled you back, his hand wrapped around your lower arm. You gazed at it, confused and startled by his reaction and he loosened his grip, his hand falling to his side after a moment.

“You know the guy?”, he asked, pointing to the man that was sitting behind the wheel, an impatient expression on his face.

Slowly you shook your head, your eyes flickering between the car and Jay. “But he’s my ride. See-” you held up your phone to him, but Jay paid it little attention.

“Yeah, no, you’re not climbing into that car”, he stated, his voice firm but not unfriendly. “Wait, what?”

Surprised you watched Jay walk towards the car, waiting for the driver to pull down the window before leaning in. You couldn’t hear what was said, only watched the two speak for a minute.

Their conversation ended with Jay handing the man money, before walking back towards you as the car sped away in the darkness.

“What the hell was that?”, you asked as Jay came to stand beside you again, his body just as relaxed as before. “You’re new in Chicago, right?” You didn’t say anything, knowing it was a question he didn’t expect an answer to.

“You should not be climbing into a car with a stranger. And not in the dark.”

Your head spun as you tried to process what he was implying. “It was just an uber! Everyone does that around here.”

You sounded clueless and defensive, shocked about the sudden change of events. Jay eyed you. “Well, then take it from me to never do that again. At least not alone. Chicago’s not a good place, especially for women, trust me on that one.”

You didn’t know what to say, blinking at him as the impact of it sank in. What if Jay hadn’t stepped outside? You doubted anything would have happened, but what if he was right and you had been reckless? Naive?

“So how am I supposed to get around the city then? Because driving in this traffic is madness.”

For the first time since your interruption Jay smiled again. “You can just ask me. I am much cheaper anyway. And on top you will get to see my face.”

You rolled your eyes over his confidence. “Now that’s a deal I can’t decline”, you muttered, fighting the grin that threatened to spread over your face and failing. Damn it.

“But for real, what am I supposed to do? I can’t just call you all the time I want to go somewhere.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem if we went together.”

Your eyes widened as you almost choked on the air. “You mean a date?”

Jay shrugged, his eyes not meeting yours for only a second. “You can pay me back for saving your ass twice.”

“Twice?”

“Getting into that car for one and saving you from freezing here on the street by driving you home.”

Smooth. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “Does that work with every woman you’re trying to impress?”

Jay shrugged, fiddling for something in his pocket before pulling out his car keys. You watched a car light up at the other side of the street, following Jay towards it.

“I wouldn’t know. And who says I’m trying to impress you?”

“Maybe because of this whole I’m-a-cop-and-I’m-so-tough-thing.”

Now it was Jay’s turn to chuckle. “That’s not just a thing. So, what are you saying?”

Oh. You bit your lip, considering the thought of going on a date with Jay. Hadn’t you just recently decided not to date and focus on yourself for a while?

But you couldn’t deny you wanted to say yes. To spend more time around him and enjoy the feeling of ease he gave you.

“Maybe.”

You said it with a teasing smile, scared Jay might take your answer in a bad way, but he sent you a confident grin. “I can work with that.”

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raspberryfingers · 1 year

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A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 30)

WARNING: NSFW/Mentions of sex

A/N: AHH alright, so I'm kind of losing it. It's genuinely hard to believe that A Lion in the Garden is over, or at least plot wise anyways. Because yes, I am going to go back and edit, along with adding new chapters into the main plotline to help with pacing and all that, but this is the end of Lady Tyrell and Tywin’s story and it is honestly making me emotional. I started this story in late November, and in the last six months I’ve written about 170,000 words about these two, which is around 300 pages the way that I have it formatted in google docs. So, needless to say, this has been quite the journey for me and also for all of you who have been reading as I publish. And a giant thank you to everyone who’s shown support for my story, because even when I was busy or lacking motivation, knowing that there were at least a few people desperate for the next chapter made me keep working, and now I’m here. Anyways, with all that said, please enjoy the last chapter and know that I am so grateful for all my readers <3

—————

To finally be in the tower of the hand was a blessing. I had spent no less than three hours in the great hall, and if I’d been stuck there any longer I might’ve gone mad. Thankfully, Tywin knew me well enough to know that my patience was wearing thin, and had distracted a few lords so I could slip away.

It was about 10:00 when I made it back to our chambers, and instantly I collapsed on one of the sofas in Tywin’s bedroom, removing my shoes with a sigh. I massaged my feet and ankles, tired after quite literally standing still for hours on end. If I had been walking the whole time it would’ve been fine, but it was like I had been stuck.

“King Tywin Lannister…” I muttered to myself, getting up from the sofa and going over to the mirror. I could’ve rang for Cerella, but it was late, and the last thing I wanted was to be rude. In all honesty, I wasn’t sure I could tolerate a conversation right now. All I wanted was to let my hair down, remove my gown, and fall asleep.

No, that wasn’t all I wanted. I wanted Tywin beside me too.

But he probably wouldn’t have the chance to join me until much later, and I couldn’t wait for him. Sighing, I grabbed at the pins in my hair, taking them out and running my fingers through it afterwards. It had not relieved my headache as much as I had hoped.

I reached backward then, watching myself in the mirror as I undid my dress. I suddenly wished that Tywin had dressed me in red this morning, for at least I could’ve felt connected to him that way. The entire day—though not purposefully, of course—he had been so distant, and now all I wanted was to feel like he was with me.

My dress fell to the floor, and I undid the rest of my unnecessary undergarments with a sigh of relief. I turned to go towards the dresser and find a nightgown, but I noticed that one had already been laid out on a chair. I was unable to hold back a smile, grabbing my gown and other undergarments from the floor and folding them as neatly as I could. Cerella had known me well enough to understand that I wouldn’t want to speak to anybody at this hour, and so she had set out my nightgown in advance. Gods, I loved her.

I set my clothes down on the chair, taking the nightgown in my hands once I had and slipping into it. I found that I dearly missed the warm nights that Tywin and I had spent nude, lazily sprawled out under the thin silk sheets. The nights had become colder, and soon the days would too. After that, it would only be a matter of time before the ravens came from the citadel. Then the blankets and furs on our bed would pile, and I would press myself closer against him. Perhaps that was not so unfortunate.

I slipped into bed, pulling the blanket up to the bottom of my neck and finding a comfortable position. I settled into the mattress with a sigh, my head sinking into the pillow with a sort of relief. It was odd, however, to be falling asleep without Tywin by my side. The bed felt too light without him, and I wondered if I would be able to sleep without the sound of his breathing beside me.

King Tywin Lannister.

Everytime I found myself drifting off, that came back to me. It was still such a shocking concept, and I wanted it to feel normal more than anything. For some reason, though, I simply couldn’t make it sound correct. Queen (Y/N) Tyrell.

A small shiver went up my back, and I had to turn onto my other side in bed. I kept hoping for the sound of Tywin’s boots outside the door, but they would not come. It was almost funny to me, how much comfort was derived from a man that plenty of people considered an insufferable cunt. Myself included, let it be known.

And yet still, I felt restless without him. I had a million questions to ask, and a million reassurances I wished to receive. Although, I guessed he was worse off than I was, probably surrounded by far too many noblemen… and noblewomen.

Now I was lying on my back, a sort of jealousy sparking in me and making my body go hot. Never before had I ever felt that somebody would try and disrupt my relationship with Tywin, but if he was to be king, surely the title of queen looked appealing to many ladies. Just as I was certain the concept of birthing little princes and princesses did.

Would Tywin want children now? His relationship with Tyrion had improved, yes, but would he go so far as to put him on the throne? I wondered if that was better or worse than Casterly Rock. But that was only for a moment, because the idea of heirs was most important. I knew for certain that the titles of prince and princess had not changed my feelings, but sometimes Tywin was hard to predict. Although, if I hadn’t been so tired and my head not so clouded, I would’ve known instantly that his opinion upon the subject had not changed.

Eventually, this train of thought became so tiring that it no longer made sense, and the words in my head were not coherent any longer, especially as I had turned back onto my side and closed my eyes once more. My breathing had begun to slow as well, and slowly but surely I drifted off.

In my dreams, I was on the battlefield. I somehow knew that Tywin was there, but I did not see him. The other odd thing was that it had been snowing, and it was somewhat reminiscent of Winterfell. It was unlike any battle I'd ever been in.

—————

Tywin was utterly exhausted. He had been in constant discussion ever since you’d left the hall, and it was now approaching 2:00 in the morning. He was making his way up the tower of the hand, already grasping at the top of his coat and undoing the clips. It was unlike him to undress anywhere besides his chambers, but gods he couldn’t help it.

All he wanted was to slip into bed beside your warm body and hold you close, because just as you needed his support, he needed yours. He was not an overly emotional person, but he could admit that to feel you in his arms would relieve the unbearable amount of stress he had accumulated in the last 24 hours. He had single handedly made House Lannister the most powerful and placed them on the throne; it was truly a wonder.

Tywin did not bother looking at the guards outside his door when he entered his office, he only pushed the door open with a slight sigh and carefully shut it behind him. It wouldn’t have been enough to wake you up regardless, but it was so quiet that he did not want to disturb the silence.

He fully shrugged off his coat now, draping it over his arm as he went towards the bedroom door. That one was handled carefully too, opened and closed as softly as was possible. There were a few dim candles lit, but overall the room was quite dark. He could see you, though, lying in bed with your face turned toward the door.

The candles were behind you for the most part, and it gave your figure a pleasant outline. Although, your face was partly buried in the pillow, and an odd feeling of guilt ran through Tywin. Had you been crying?

He took light steps across the room, placing his coat down on the same chair that you had left your gown. He sat down in another, reaching down to pull off his boots with a soft groan. Once he had done that, he untucked his shirt from his pants and then continued to strip. Tywin found his black robe in the dresser and promptly slipped it over his head, periodically looking over to make sure you were still asleep.

Entirely ready to sleep now, he approached your side of the bed. He lifted his hand to your face, the back of his fingers brushing against your cheek. It did not feel as though you had been crying, but it was impossible to tell. He felt the pillowcase too, and was reassured by the dryness there. No, you had not been crying.

Quietly, Tywin made his way around the bed until he reached his side, carefully lifting the blankets and getting in with as little disruption as was possible. You seemed relatively undisturbed by the shifting of the mattress, and he knew he had not woken you. Tywin laid on his back with a quiet sigh, feeling utterly relieved to finally be in bed and alone. It felt like being alone, at least, for your company was never disruptive to him.

He had been drifting to sleep, but was suddenly startled by a jolting beside him. When Tywin opened his eyes, he saw you shake beside him. He moved to reach over and hold you, but you had shot straight up with a gasp, and he could see a sort of fear in your eyes.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” He asked, having to clear his throat as he sat up and placed his hands on your arms. You looked over at him—as if processing that he was there—and then nodded. Something had clearly started you. “A bad dream?” he questioned, gently cupping your cheek and bringing your forehead to his lips.

“Yes, y-yes. It was just a bad dream,” you whispered in reply, swallowing. The way you said it gave the odd impression that you were trying to remind yourself of it, not that you were telling Tywin. He gave you a sympathetic look, though you did not notice.

“Come, sweet girl. Let us sleep,” Tywin whispered, slowly coaxing you back down to the mattress. He sighed out airily when you moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He could feel your stress and uncertainty being relieved as you held him, and he could not keep himself from holding you with the same ferocity.

Tywin clutched at you, wrapping his arms entirely around you and pressing you to his body as much as was physically possible. He knew he wouldn’t, but there was an odd desire in him to sob. He did not want to be the king, all he wanted was to remain here with you.

“Oh Tywin…” you muttered, inhaling his scent with an overwhelming sense of comfort. Your own scent was simultaneously giving him the same feeling. You had begun to nuzzle into him, too, much as a lion would. In response, his hand had come to your hair, cupping your head as one does for an infant. It had come from some sort of protective instinct, and even knowing that there was nothing to fear, Tywin would not let go.

His queen.

With both of you feeling utterly at peace in each other's arms, it did not take long to fall asleep. You had drifted off first, and the sound of your tired breathing had sent Tywin to sleep right after you. He had been so glad to hold you, and perhaps even a bit happy that you were tired and disoriented, for you had asked no questions. Those would come in the morning, he knew.

Tywin would happily answer them then, but for now, all he wanted was sleep. And with you wrapped up in his arms, that was no strenuous task at all.

—————

Tywin had woken up before me, though he had not left our bed. When I opened my eyes, I understood that I was cuddled against his chest. However, when I looked up at his face, he was already smiling down at me.

“Goodmorning, my dear,” he said, his voice a bit deeper and harsher than usual. He must’ve not been up for long. I smiled, adjusting myself and sitting up slightly before reaching over to kiss him. Tywin gave a soft hum against my lips, hand coming to my hair as he kissed me back. The mornings that he got to stay in bed with me were always the best ones.

“Goodmorning, Tywin. What time did you come to bed last night?” I questioned, laying back down and resting my head on his shoulder. I felt his hand lifting my nightgown, and then suddenly his warm palm against my hip. He loved to feel the skin there, for some odd reason. Though, I would never complain, for I loved it too.

“Far too late. I only managed to escape the great hall at 2:00. Your nightmare woke up just after I came to bed,” he said, resting his chin on my head. I furrowed my eyebrows, as I did not remember waking from my dreams. I had experienced a nightmare, yes, but waking up because of it? I certainly could not recall that. Well, it was of no importance.

“I see. If you’d really wanted to, you would’ve left much earlier,” I said, knowing him better than that. Tywin Lannister would never do something he didn’t want to. At least not something like that.

“It would have been inappropriate.”

“Oh yes, I’m certain.”

I laughed, shaking my head at how ridiculous my husband managed to be. I suspected not a man like him had ever lived, nor ever would again. It was almost comical, for Tywin Lannister was rarer than a dragon.

“We have much to discuss,” Tywin said after a moment, instantly making my smile fade. I could hear in his voice that he similarly did not want to, but felt it necessary. He was right, of course.

“Yes, we certainly do.”

“What’s most important to me, (Y/N), is that you’re alright. You shook during the ceremony yesterday. It’s all been somewhat overwhelming and sudden, hasn’t it?” He asked softly, one of his hands reaching for mine and holding it. I nodded, sighing out and glancing around the room.

“I suppose I- well, I hadn’t even considered that you had a claim. For some reason, the only two I had suspected were Jaime and Tyrion, and when I heard men in the hall discussing that it ought to be you, it did shock me. But it’s not you being king which frightens me, it’s the idea of me being queen. I’m nothing like my sister in that regard,” I admitted, suddenly finding one of the tapestries on the wall to be the most interesting thing I’d ever seen. Tywin had it put up after our wedding, and I hadn’t really taken any appropriate amount of time to consider it. There was something so beautiful and erotic about the nude figures, and it was a perfect distraction from my embarrassment.

Tywin suddenly moved beside me, and I realized he wanted to get up from bed. I moved off him, sitting up and watching him quizzically as he went over to a drawer and rummaged around. When he seemingly did not find what he was looking for there, he left the room. I simply waited, absolutely puzzled as to what he was doing. I assumed that like always, he was trying to prove a point.

He came back in with a rather large, rolled up parchment in his hands. He set it down on the table, undoing it and then using books that were already on the table to keep it open. Tywin then turned around and motioned for me to come over. I did so, scooting off the edge of the bed and adjusting my nightgown as I walked over to him.

He had laid out a map on the table, and after a minute it clicked in my head. It was a map of King’s Landing. I raised both eyebrows at him as a signal to explain, knowing he was going to come to a point eventually.

“As you are aware, the smallfolk of King’s Landing are not entirely fond of me. If I’m to be their king, my reforms must actually have a directly positive impact on their lives. Tell me, how do I improve a city ripe with crime, disease, overcrowding, and homelessness?” Tywin questioned, gesturing to the map he had laid out. I let out a breath that was almost a laugh, feeling that the question was impossible. Staring at the map was not helping me any.

“You cannot improve all of those things single handedly, Tywin. Therefore, I cannot possibly have any ideas that would do such a thing,” I said, knowing that we needed to be realistic in this instance. He still hadn’t come to his point yet, and it was irking me.

“It’s not single handedly, I have you. But even if I didn’t, that’s not what I mean. Give me a solution to just one of those problems, please,” he said, gazing down at me with a sort of twinkle in his eye. Where was he going with this? I looked at him hesitantly for a moment, but when all I received was an expectant look I knew he was serious.

With a sigh, I turned my eyes to the map once more. Gods, the layout of Kings Landing was absolutely horrendous. It was no wonder that overcrowding was a problem just based on the way that everything was structured. And of course, overcrowding led to disease, so I supposed a solution to the overcrowding would perhaps help that as well. The idea came to me then.

“Tywin, where was Tommen’s carriage destroyed?” I asked, turning to my husband for a moment. His expression was blank, but he pointed down to a certain street on the map.

“Right around here.”

“Well surely that much wildfire must’ve destroyed some of the street and the buildings around it, right?” I questioned, feeling that it must’ve been a completely logical assumption.

“Correct. I was told that these complexes here are practically ruins now, and several of the common folk in them were either seriously injured or killed,” Tywin informed, making my heart sink a bit. To think a religious order had caused such suffering.

“I see. We ought to make sure their families are provided for at the very least, and given reassurances that the sparrows will be held responsible,” I muttered, hearing Tywin give a hum of approval beside me.

“I’ll have Varys see to that.”

“Perhaps I ought to go with him. It will appear more genuine that way. Plus, then I can inspect the site myself. The problem with Kings Landing is that it wasn't built with any particular layout, but if we can slowly rebuild with a more thought out design, then it would be able to more adequately house the smallfolk, and if there’s less overcrowding, that also means less ability for disease to spread. Sickness is bound to spread in large cities, but if we could limit the amount of families living in one house, that ought to help,” I reasoned, continually looking down at the sheet before me and trying to formulate some kind of design in my head based off of what I knew about Highgarden’s layout. Though, King’s Landing was admittedly a much different space.

“And how do you propose we go about building such a thing? To redesign and rebuild the entire city is quite a hefty task. It would displace many,” Tywin pointed out, though I shook my head in disagreement.

“Not if we do it slowly. We could also use the sept to house people, there aren’t any more nobles in need of a marriage that grand so far as I’m concerned. And as we carry it out, we could also hire the smallfolk to help build. It would improve our economy significantly and reduce the amount of unemployed and homeless, especially because the new layout would ideally use the space available most efficiently. I’m no architect or city planner, but I’m certain we could find somebody from the citadel who would be more than helpful with that matter. We ought to focus on agriculture as well, especially with the upcoming winter. It will remain relatively warm enough to plant certain crops, and it would certainly relieve a burden off of Highgarden. Plus, the more jobs available the better,” I rambled, thinking of the endless benefits that redesigning and rebuilding King’s Landing would have. If we could execute it correctly, which I was certain we could, it would be infinitely useful.

When Tywin said nothing, I looked over my shoulder at him. I had leaned over the table subconsciously, both hands spread on the map like I was planning for battle. My husband was smiling rather fondly, and I raised a curious eyebrow. What on earth was making him grin like such a fool?

“A few years ago, (Y/N), when I saw you for the first time since you were 14, I had not a clue what to expect. For a moment, I thought you had remained as immature as you were as a young girl, but you quickly proved me wrong. You had leaned over my table then, just as you are now, and told me that we would be stupid to go through that ravine, because if Stannis sent men in another direction and they realized we were coming, we would’ve been easy to repel. You were admittedly correct, and I understood that you were no longer an inexperienced child. Now you stand here, telling me exactly how we ought to earn the respect of the smallfolk and more than that, how it will be beneficial for all involved. You underestimate yourself, (Y/N), and of all my concerns, you being a good queen is not one of them. You have always been a leader, that won’t change just because the title sounds more intimidating,” Tywin explained, stepping toward me and cupping my face in his hands. My lips parted as I stared up at him, my heart somehow pounding in my chest at the sentiment he was expressing. There was something so indescribable about the way that Tywin managed to reassure me, and I often wondered how it was possible.

I reached for the fabric of his robe, pulling him closer to me and lifting my head up to show him I wished for a kiss. He chuckled softly, moving his hands from my face and grabbing my hips instead. Tywin bent down, pressing his lips to mine with a noise of satisfaction.

“You’re far too good at that,” I whispered when he pulled away, making his eyebrow raise.

“What, kissing you?”

“No. Well, yes, that too. But I meant that you’re far too good at reassuring me. I’m always in my head and you always know how to pull me out,” I said with a smile, unable to look away from my husband for even a moment. Even after all this time I was still so smitten with him.

“It’s because you often do the same for me, even if you don’t realize it,” he remarked with a kiss to my forehead.

“And speaking of, well, reassurances… the subject of succession, your succession, I mean… do you- are you still firm on the subject of children?” I asked, knowing that was one of the other things I needed to discuss with him.

“Yes, I am. Why? Has the prospect of them being a prince or princess changed your opinion on it?” He questioned in reply, a certain hesitation in his voice as he asked it, almost as if hoping that mentioning he hadn’t changed his mind wasn’t the wrong thing to say.

“No! Gods, no. I just- I wasn’t sure if… well I don’t know. Your relationship with Tyrion has certainly improved, but I didn’t have a clue if it had improved enough to make you give him the throne. You were already unsure about giving him Casterly Rock,” I pointed out, watching him nod as he listened to what I was saying. He was contemplative.

“Casterly Rock must have prestige associated with it. Jaime is no ruler, but he would not make the Lannister name an embarrassment. To have Tyrion there, whoring and drinking constantly, would be a problem. The throne has no obligations, it is expected for kings to drink and whore. Tyrion will get the throne once I am gone, and I feel quite certain he will rule far better than most,” Tywin explained, one of his hands holding mine and the other on the table, gently tapping against the wood. He quite frequently fidgeted with his fingers, I realized. I wondered if somehow it helped him process his thoughts.

“I see. That’s easily settled then,” I remarked, somewhat glad it had been resolved so easily. I had expected a much longer conversation, but I was quite satisfied. Tyrion would be a good king.

“Yes, it is.”

I thought for a moment more, and then an insecurity from the previous night came back to me. I found myself looking down, not wanting to see Tywin’s reaction as I said what was on my mind.

“You’re correct, Tywin. Kings certainly are expected to whore, drink, and hunt,” I mumbled, feeling insanely uncomfortable with the jealousy I was experiencing. Surely every woman in the seven kingdoms would be throwing herself at him now.

“(Y/N), a crown is not suddenly going to transform me. Just like any other man, I have been with whores, and I have enjoyed them, but you are my wife. I had no need to marry you, House Tyrell was already firmly tied to House Lannister. I married you because I love you, and that means I have no intentions of being unfaithful. I would hang any woman who tried to flirt with me, because I will not see our marriage insulted that way. Rest assured that you are the only woman I want, and that is not going to change just because they decided to put me on the throne,” Tywin assured me, hand coming under my chin and forcing me to look at him. He was entirely genuine, I could see it in his eyes. In all honesty, I knew everything he said was true before he had even bothered to open his mouth, but somehow hearing it outloud brought such relief.

“I merely hate the thought of women looking at you with desire.”

“And now you understand how I feel. Perhaps you’ll stop teasing so much when I get possessive.”

I laughed then, shaking my head and embracing Tywin. There was always something so lovely about knowing I was the only person with whom he acted this way. His hands were on my hips again, and when he gave them a slight squeeze I knew exactly what he was about to say.

“And believe me, none of those whores are anything like you. It left me rather unsatisfied,” he whispered, which had initially been what I expected. Then I was given quite the surprise.

“Unsatisfied?” I questioned, wondering if he was insinuating what I thought he was. He observed me for a second, as though he were debating whether or not he ought to admit something.

“About two years ago, when you left to go make negotiations with Robb Stark, I sent a description to the brothel. At that point, I was unaware that you returned my feelings. We hadn’t even kissed yet, but you were driving me mad. It was impulsive of me to do, and I felt incredibly guilty afterwards… but I- well, I couldn’t even finish with her. From behind, she certainly looked similar. Your same height, hair color, skin tone… but she wasn’t anything like you. She did not hold herself with any confidence, the sound of her voice was wrong. She did not moan how you would’ve, and when I leaned down her scent was nothing like yours. That’s when I had to stop. I paid her and asked her to leave. She wasn’t you…” he said, revealing what was probably the most shocking thing I had ever heard him say. I was trying to process my feelings, but in all honesty I had no idea what to feel. How are you supposed to feel about learning that a man fucked a whore with you in mind? More than anything, I was just surprised. I hadn’t even considered that Tywin desired me at that point in time.

“Tywin…” I whispered, not sure what else to say. It was the only thing that would escape my throat. Should I be offended that he had done it? Should I be flattered? There certainly was something erotic about the idea that I had driven him so mad with lust he had gone so far as to find a whore that looked like me. But at the same time, I hated the idea of him fucking another woman. He was mine. Although, as he had said, that was exactly why he’d stopped. She wasn’t me.

“You had been in my room in the last day or two. We had discussed something, I don’t remember what, but you had sat on my bed. You’d been fidgeting with the lace on one of the pillows, I remember that much. You left your scent on it, and that night… when I realized…” he trailed off, and it seemed that just the memory of it had sparked lust in him. I swallowed, instantly understanding. Yes, I was decided. That was utterly erotic.

Suddenly I was picturing Tywin naked, laying in bed that night with a sort of disappointment that the whore had not fulfilled his desire for me. I imagined him turning over and suddenly inhaling a familiar scent. He would flare his nostrils a few times, discovering that something smelled just like me. He would check the pillows around him, and then he would find the one that I had left my perfume on. Tywin would proceed to inhale deeply, and the lust would spark in him again. He’d reach down, touching himself as the scent consumed him entirely and he shut his eyes.

I came back to the present after picturing that, and I felt the heat in my cheeks. To think of Tywin in such a context was entirely new, but I found that I liked it.

“Until that night, I hadn’t been with a whore since weeks before the Battle of Blackwater. Once I had spoken to you again, (Y/N), you became my only desire. You called me an insufferable cunt, fine, I would prove you otherwise. Nobody had ever dared to say such a thing, and what had piqued my interest was that I knew you did not mean it just to be insulting, it was genuinely what you thought of me. When I wasn’t working, I was thinking of you. And when those thoughts became different in their nature, I did what I thought would satisfy the urge. No. No, it most certainly did not. I couldn’t have anything less than you, I discovered. Nothing ever has and nothing ever will compare to you, (Y/N).”

I felt my heart pounding with his words, so overwhelming was the love inside of me. Suddenly I could not keep myself off of my husband. I instantly kissed him, grabbing at his hair and moaning into his mouth. He did the same in response, and every touch was so raw and genuine. He lifted me from the ground then, letting me wrap my legs around his waist as he took me over to the bed.

He sat me on the edge of the mattress, standing between my legs as his lips grasped at mine. Gods, it wasn’t even 9:00 yet and we were already like this. His hands had come to my thighs, and he had to pull away for a moment, absolutely breathless.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N)…” he muttered, pressing his forehead to mine. I cupped his cheeks, swallowing and catching my own breath.

“I love you, Tywin… I love you so much,” I whispered, smiling slightly and looking into his eyes. He also smiled softly, removing his hands from my thighs and embracing me instead. It seemed that we were both equally emotional and lust-filled.

“I love you far more than I ought to, (Y/N). My queen… my Nightshade of the Garden… my wife,” he said softly, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. He kissed me again, softer this time. I responded the exact same way.

It was an interesting thought, that I truly had no idea what would come next for us. I found that I did not care, for it did not matter. Tywin and I would continue on, just as we always did.

—————

“You look very handsome, your grace. The sash fits well.”

“It’s not your grace just yet, Cerella. And he does look handsome, even if perhaps a bit gloomy.”

I was fixing up Tywin’s outfit for the coronation, and he had decided on his black coat with the lions on the shoulders. On top of that, I had fixed a golden sash around his torso, as I was trying to prevent him from looking too plain.

“I do not appreciate your jokes,” Tywin mumbled, which only made me smile even more as I adjusted his belt. He was simply so easy to tease.

“Have you ever considered taking the black, husband? I feel confident they would allow you to keep your wardrobe,” I jested further, finally stepping away from him and feeling satisfied with his appearance. Cerella had brought in my own dress and was presently waiting for me to strip out of my nightgown.

“Ha! If I did, it would leave you begging,” he replied snarkily, only continuing to grin when I smacked his arm.

“Do you hear him, Cerella? My husband is surely the most insufferable cunt in all seven kingdoms,” I scoffed, undoing some of the lace on my nightgown and pulling it over my head. My undergarments had followed, of course, and Tywin had pretended not to notice my nudity as he ran a hand over his hair in the mirror.

“Here, my lady,” Cerella replied, handing me a fresh set to put on. She had not addressed my claim, but was smiling in a way that told me she appreciated the joke. I supposed that after serving the two of us for so long, she’d been forced to become accustomed to our constant teasing and yapping.

I pulled on the clean undergarments, and I held still as she assisted me with the lacing of my stay. After that came my gown, of course, which was a deep scarlet red. The top had minimal gold and white detail, for on top of my dress I was wearing a beautiful porcelain corset. It had absolute gorgeous ornamentation, with perfected gold detailing along the edges and roses painted on it. It had been a gift for my 24th name day, and I hadn’t found an occasion for it until now.

“You look absolutely stunning, my lady,” Cerella said as she helped me put it on. I smiled at her for a moment, and then I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. It certainly was quite the sight. Cerella had done my hair beforehand too, wanting to make sure that everything would stay in place.

“Yes, she does. You’re breathtaking, wife,” Tywin noted, coming up behind me and placing his hands on my hips, just below the corset. I hadn’t even realized he was watching, in all honesty.

“Well, my husband is being made into the king of all seven kingdoms today. If that isn’t a good occasion to be wearing this, I don’t know what is,” I remarked, watching Cerella step back and take my dirty nightclothes out. Tywin and I were left alone after a moment.

“I have something to give you, (Y/N). I’m not certain what jewelry you were planning to wear, but I think you ought to consider this.”

I watched him retrieve a flat, square box from his dresser with a small smirk on his face. I was suspicious of him, just as I always was. Tywin brought it over to me, and I turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. Carefully, he opened the case and revealed an absolutely stunning necklace. It made me gape, and I quite honestly had no clue what to say in reply.

“What do you think?” he questioned, lifting his gaze from the jewelry up to me. I managed to avert my eyes too, though with quite some difficulty.

“It’s gorgeous, Tywin. Would you- would you help me put it on?” I asked softly, watching the satisfaction settle in his eyes. He said nothing, but nodded and motioned for me to turn around. I did so, watching him move around in the mirror and remove the necklace from its case. I adjusted my hair as he came up behind me, and I could feel his breath against my ear as he hung the thing from my neck. I felt the gentle clasp of it, and he carefully removed his hands. For such a gorgeous, detailed necklace, it was not nearly as heavy as I had suspected. I put my hair back in place with a sort of entrancement.

“It looks beautiful on you,” Tywin said after a moment, still standing right behind me and admiring my reflection. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around my waist and let his head lean against mine.

“I think this would look beautiful on anyone, Tywin. Maybe even on you,” I jested, though there was no humor in my voice. Something about seeing myself this way was shocking, and I could not tear my eyes away. I looked like a queen.

“No, I doubt that. I had it specifically made for you, the measurements are specific. You are the only woman who’s ever been meant to wear it,” he said, his voice low and clear. I placed my hands on top of his, swallowing and then letting my lips part with a sort of overwhelmed feeling.

“I wonder, Tywin, if you will ever stop spoiling me like a child,” I remarked, finally looking at him. As well as I could, anyways, for our faces were rather close.

“I have never spoiled you like a child. I have spoiled you like a wife—as you deserve,” he replied, placing a chaste kiss against my neck. I leaned into him, a sort of warmth filling me. To think this man had been my worst enemy a few years ago was incredibly odd, for now he was the most important person in my life. To think that a cut, a sword, and a set of armor might’ve changed my life forever.

There was a knock at our door which I recognized as Cerella’s, and I knew it must be time for us to leave. I moved myself from Tywin’s grasp, though I took his arm once I had. From there, we made our way out of the tower of the hand and down to the throne room. The walk was quiet, but the entire time Tywin kept me close. Occasionally, he would look over at me and hold my gaze for a few moments before looking away. I wondered if perhaps he was trying to make sure I was still there, as stupid as that sounded.

When we reached the double doors, I felt him take a deep breath and noticed his gaze set firmly on the wood in front of us. I pressed my lips together, blinking a few times as I debated whether or not I should ask him how he was doing. I decided it would do little harm.

“Are you alright, Tywin?”

“Of course.”

It was kurt, and perhaps a bit sharper than he had intended. He was stressed, I understood. He was not easily made this way, either, and I felt awful. The man standing beside me was not only Tywin, he was the king. In this moment, the second identity had to be worn.

“I did not mean to use such a tone,” he said after a minute or so, finally looking at me. There was the husband again.

“It’s alright, Tywin. You don’t need to apologize. Not today,” I whispered, giving him a sympathetic look. A sort of relief settled in his face, as though he was at least glad I was not upset by what he had said. I had learned Tywin well enough to know it was not truly him.

Slowly, the double doors were pulled open and the two of us were shown to the entire court. My heart skipped a beat, as if I was suddenly processing that we both were on public display. With a swallow, I stepped forward in sync with Tywin, looking straight ahead in spite of my nerves and desire to observe every face. Margaery would inform me of looks afterwards, I was certain.

There was a silence in the room as Tywin and I walked through the isle, heading straight up to the throne. It was almost like a moment of peace, a moment of time that nobody else existed in. I found that I could not resist the urge to look at Tywin, and even despite his appearance as king today, he looked back at me. Oh, and those eyes. Those blue, blue eyes with their green flecks. I loved this man so much.

We reached the platform then, and together we ascended up the steps. I made eye contact with Kevan, who Tywin had chosen as Hand of the King, for he never wanted politics to cause strife in our marriage. Although, both of us were aware that I would continue to be his most trusted source of guidance and advice. And, it was a good thing Kevan was hand too, for I did not want to relinquish our chambers in the tower and he had no problem whatsoever taking the kings instead. The bed was bigger in there, but Tywin and I had no problem sleeping close together.

It was Kevan who I had expected to stand beside at the ceremony, too, but Tywin did not drop his arm. With an open mouth, I found myself standing in front of the throne with him, and there was a smug look on his face.

“Let them see that the queen has every bit of power that the king does. Your title is owed a crown,” he whispered before we turned around to look upon the crowd. I was still somewhat shocked, but I did not let it show as we faced everyone.

Tywin’s arm detached from mine then, but he then opted to grab my hand instead. He was certainly full of surprises today, and I could not keep myself from giving a subtle smile when his hand squeezed mine.

The high septon was behind us, and once Tywin and I had settled in, he began with the ceremonials. I—in all honesty—was not listening to what he was saying whatsoever. Tywin had been running his thumb up and down the side of my hand for the last several minutes, and that was all I could focus on. That and the two crowns I had noticed in the corner of my eye. One was much larger, and had the face of a lion upon it. The other was about the size of my head, and was covered in thorns and roses.

The high septon had been going on about the seven blessing and guiding Tywin for at least 10 minutes now, and I hadn’t really processed what was being said until I was mentioned. It was not something that had ever been said in a coronation before, at least as far as I was concerned, and Tywin had given me the most fulfilled of looks when he’d heard it.

“And may his lady wife support him in all his endeavors and be a pillar of strength in the crown. May she show love, compassion, and kindness to all in the kingdoms, and lead just as bravely as the man beside her. The Queen (Y/N) Tyrell, long may she reign,” he said, placing the golden crown of roses atop my head. Its weight was pleasant, and the echo of ‘long may she reign’ from everyone in the hall sent a slight shiver up my spine. Tywin squeezed my hand once more.

After that, the High Septon moved on to Tywin, and I was unable to remove my eyes from my husband. He looked every bit the king, standing tall with his perfect posture and elegant coat. The High Septon held the crown above his head, and with a shout of ‘long may he reign,’ it was placed upon his head.

“Long may he reign,” I repeated with the rest of the crowd, smiling at the sight of the golden lion upon Tywin’s white hair. It matched the blonde strands that remained on the edges of his head and his cheeks.

Loud applause filled the room for King Tywin, first of his name, and I experienced the sort of feeling that one gets before battle. The feeling of rallying your men, of hearing them cheer as they prepare to die for you. Would these men fight for my husband? Would they die for him? I would.

Tywin looked over at me then, and when our eyes met I knew everything would be alright, somehow. There were trials to come, I knew, but it was impossible to feel frightened when the man beside me was looking at me the way he was. Tywin and I had faced everything together for the last few years, and I had no doubt in my mind that we would continue to do so now.

“My Queen,” Tywin muttered, lifting our hands and kissing the back of mine. It was as if he had forgotten everyone in the hall was there, even as their applause continued to ring in our ears. I smiled even more now, looking up at my husband with utter adoration. Every choice I’d made in my life had been the right one, for I could not imagine living without this man. The Great Lion of the Rock and the Nightshade of the Garden.

Tywin Lannister, I could say confidently, was the most important thing in my life. The man I trusted, guided, received guidance from. But most importantly he was the man I loved. They said that Westeros had not seen a match such as ours in centuries, if ever. And standing beside Tywin in front of the throne, his hand in mine and our eyes stuck on each other, I had the odd sensation that they never would again. For how could they?

I could not imagine another tale such as ours, with the hatred of him in my youth turning to eventual friendship in my adulthood, and then that friendship eventually turning to love. Tywin and I had fought wars together, settled conflict together, and kept all seven kingdoms intact together. What other couple could boast that? None. None could. There were no couples like us. There were no people like us. There was only us.

My thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Tywin’s hand at my waist, and I realized that he was pulling me towards him. Before all present in the hall, he kissed me. Tywin was passionate, and yet simultaneously loving. I could not resist the urge to smile as I kissed back, the sensation of his familiar lips causing a wave of utter contentment to wash over me. A sense of peace. When Tywin pulled away, he smiled at me. It wasn’t even a small smile, it was genuine and raw. And I could see in his eyes, it was not the crown atop his head that had made him smile. It had been me, standing right beside him as the High Septon had placed it atop his head. I kissed him once more, with not a single care as I did so.

For they would never see our like again.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394 @aimsro

#tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #house lannister #charles dance #tywin x reader #asoiaf #a lion in the garden

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shannankle · 4 months

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My Top Shows 2023

Doing this at the last minute but here goes--the top 10 shows I watched in 2023!

*Note: I rate my shows on a letter scale cause I don't like narrowing it down to a specific number. (S-standout As-Strong Bs-Fine Cs-There's some problems Ds-ooof)

1. Oh No! Here Comes Trouble

This one instantly became an all time favorite. It covers themes about grief and loss in a deeply empathetic and humanizing way along side the supernatural elements. I don't know if it's because I've experienced loss myself or because it's a universal experience, but I love shows like this that help you understand what it means to grieve and heal in a familiar yet new light. It reminded me a lot of Natsume Yuujinchou (another favorite) in that respect.

Aside from the larger themes, you have a distinct directing style, quirky sense of humor, well-rounded cast of characters, and excellent acting (the lead actor was also in Your Name Engraved Herein and he's just as standout here). In addition to all that, the show gives us a main trio of characters whose strengths are deliberately not their wits. This is used for humor but also to make more meaningful points about connection, empathy, and different ways of thinking (yes, I headcanon the main trio as neurodivergent).

Rating: S+

2. The Eighth Sense

This show! Another piece that is deeply rooted in exploring trauma and loss. This time within the framework of a romance. I'm usually pretty hesitant with stories that bring disability into romance, especially mental illness. There's a tendency to lean into the idea that love cures all and other not so great tropes. The Eighth Sense does a great job balancing that line, giving us romantic beats without wading into them uncritically. In the end, healing and love are things we choose not something guaranteed, but there's still an immense hope in that. I'm an giant sucker for shows that tackle both queer and crip experiences with nuance and grace, and the Eighth Sense hit that mark for me (so much so it even had me writing a little meta). On top of that it has beautiful cinematography and visual choices.

Rating: S

3. Moonlight Chicken

A beautiful show all around! P'Aof constantly knocks it out of the park with every show he directs, but I felt particularly strong about Moonlight Chicken. I adore the way it centers on themes of home and community. It even inspired some meta and a bit of personal reflection for me on what it means to choose home as someone who is queer and disabled. The show gives us the messiness that comes with navigating new and old relationships and somehow also the simplicity of it all. And of course, the show includes a Deaf character and handles his story with nuance and clear care.

Rating: S

4. Shadow

Singto, Fluke, and Fiat in a queer horror show--sign me up! It wasn't as scary as I expected, more psychological (which is good because I am so picky about what types of horror are too much for me vs what I enjoy). I loved the way the show played with time and reality and drew upon various religious practices to create a unique atmosphere. I also adored the attention to small details that make the piece ripe for analysis. I will probably be eyeing clocks and tech in many shows to come. It's also a show that is bringing up themes about queerness, mental illness, domestic violence, and historical trauma. I'm continually drawn to pieces that are queer and crip, so I suppose it's no surprise that this one drew me in too.

I know this show was divisive, about as many people thought it stuck the landing as didn't. I happen to land in the former category. I adore media that makes me stop and think, and given the amount of meta the show had/has me writing, I'd say it well and truly tickled my brain. The show didn't always go where I most wanted or expected but I think that challenged me even more to really think about what the show might be trying to do (my thoughts on that here, spoilers though).

Rating: S

5. Our Dining Table

Japan does a lot of things well, but I'm particularly fond of their slice-of-life. Our Dining Table fits right in there with food and found family at the center. It's warm and cute, but has a depth beyond it's soft exterior, delving into loss, loneliness, and what it means to be fully seen by those around us. All of this tied up in a queer bow. It was easily the show I was most excited to watch each week when it was airing.

Rating: S

6. Mysterious Lotus Casebook

Another one I fell in love with this year! While it has plenty of tropes, cutting through the core of all of this is the growing friendship between the main trio, especially between Li Lian Hua and Fang Duo Bing. Their relationship and personal growth as characters was really beautiful to watch, on top of it just being a fun show with a great balance of humor and drama. Plus Fang Duo Bing's mom 😍

Rating: S

7. One Room Angel

Another solid entry out of Japan. As much as I love Japan's bright slice-of-life offerings like Our Dining Table, they also excel at stories that don't shy away from heavy or complex emotional themes. And I'm noticing as I tackle this post that I really resonate with heavy themes. One Room Angel has it's lighter moments and own quirky humor. But it also tackles depression and suicide as it explores the journey of finding enough connection and meaning in life to keep moving forward.

Rating: S

8. I Feel You Linger in the Air

I Feel You Linger in the Air was such a beautiful show! I'm so happy we got a historical thai bl this year and that it was so so lovely. I really liked last year's To Sir With Love but it does have it's Lakorn/soap style that is a bit more of an obstacle for me. IFYLITA certainly has it's drama, but it feels more tightly drawn. Throw in a little time travel and beautiful love scenes and it was a delight to watch.

Rating: S

9. My Beautiful Man S2, Eternal

When I watched the first season of My Beautiful Man I liked it but wasn't exactly sold. I read a bit of meta from the community which changed my tune a bit. But it wasn't until watching season 2 and Eternal that something really clicked. I immediately went back and watched season 1 after finishing the film and oh boy did I fall in love. Not only do S2 and Eternal give us great character growth and forward motion to Hira and Kiyoi's relationship, and they feel like a natural expansion of the first season in the best way possible. What can I say, I love the whole series!

Rating: A+

10. Kiseki: Dear to Me

Kiseki: Dear to Me feels like an outlier to me. It's hard for me to put my finger on just what made it click for me, but I was so into it when it was airing. I recognize that plot wise this show is a bit of a mess, but at the same time it hit something just right in my brain. Perhaps it was the emotional intimacy the actors portrayed? They did a fantastic job drawing me in. Apart from that I couldn't take my eyes off of Ai Di's impeccable fashion choices, and the many many cameos were quite fun.

Rating: A+ YMMV

A few close contenders:

My School President (S) *split airing 22' and 23'

Tokyo in April Is... (A+)

Laws of Attraction (A)

Bed Friend (A)

The End of the World with You (A)

Me, My Husband, and My Husband's Boyfriend (A)

If it's with You (A)

Our Dating Sim (A)

Love Tractor (A)

The Warp Effect (A) *split airing 22' and 23'

The New Employee (A) *split airing 22' and 23'

La Pluie (A-)

Midnight Museum (A-)

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fireflysummers · 9 months

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Final Thoughts on GO S2

I'm probably gonna pull back on discussing S2, at least publicly, after this. I did actually like a lot of the season, but it's triggering some of my religious trauma and also the fandom is already stressing me out. So here, let's have some final thoughts.

First and foremost: I am not a Gaiman simp. I've read a decent amount of his work: comics, short stories, essays, and novels. Aside from Good Omens, I've liked Coraline and The Graveyard Book the best by far, whereas American Gods just. Did Not Connect with me, even though it's should have, given the stuff I tend to enjoy.

However. Regardless of whether I like a given work (or even like how he adapted it, a la parts of The Sandman TV series), he is a veteran writer who has proven that he does, actually, know how to write a story with consistent characters.

Beyond that, I do actually believe that he's trying to do right by Pratchett, and loves and respects the story and characters they created together. He's generally shown up as an ally to a variety of social causes, and directly and respectfully responds to fans on Tumblr. While no saint, I feel that there is cause to give the benefit of the doubt that things will resolve satisfyingly in S3, and that there is Intention about some of the things in S2.

This, of course, does not absolve it of being "bad," but even here I think we need to articulate better the different types of "bad" that people are reacting to. There seems to roughly be three camps here: 1) People who thought it was "bad" because of how it ended, with the breakup and a lot of unresolved plot threads; 2) People who thought it was "bad" because it struggled on a technical level with its set, lighting, directorial choices, editing, etc; 3) People who thought it was "bad" because they felt the characterization was significantly off and that the internal logic of the series had been violated.

With regards to Point One, the only solution is to Wait and See. Judgement should be reserved until the story is properly finished--easier said than done, especially considering the current media landscape, and the number of series or franchises that fail to live up to their promises.

Point Two isn't something I understand well enough to contribute meaningfully, except that I suspect the pandemic affected this aspect the most and am willing to give it a bit more mercy. That aside, I for the most part I don't find it bad so much as not as good as S1. Except for the parts with epilepsy warnings, surely there could've been a better way to do that.

Point Three... that's the stumbling block for me, and I find it interesting that most of the folks who struggle with this point in particular are long time fans of the book.

I trust that instinct.

There are two different directions to go from here. The first is the assumption that these problems are a result of ego, carelessness, or lack of skill from the showrunners/writers/director. It's cynical but not unjustified. The second is the belief that the breaks in lore or characterization were intentional, building towards a much grander conspiracy. Of course, even in this case I don't think it forgives the lack of signposting that would indicate that this is a choice rather than an accident. It just makes it feel clumsy and poorly constructed, a major risk on a show that hasn't had its third season confirmed.*

However, regardless, it still feels salvageable. I've enjoyed reading a lot of meta on all this, and I've pulled some things from others (particularly That Theory by @ariaste), but I don't really want to put forth a single, defined theory myself. Instead, here's some questions I've got, why those questions are important (to me, at least). Actual theorizing comes after, and anybody who snidely mentions Sherlock in the comments or tags is going to get auto-blocked. Like seriously, I'm aware that some stuff is a stretch, but it's fun??? To theorize????? And I'm here for me and my peace of mind rather than trying to argue a point.

*I have some suspicions here, particularly with Gaiman stating that the decision from Amazon would come much faster than The Sandman's second season (which was four months). I don't know enough though to say if that's actually significant.

Questions

Who the fuck is telling this story?

This is the most important piece, in my opinion. There's this assumption when reading books (or research papers, newspapers, etc...) that the narrator who is writing the words is a non-presence, Neutral and objective. That's not the case, and an important part of literature critique is figuring out who the narrator is, and what their goals are. Oftentimes, the narrator and the author are the same person, but with Pratchett's work, particularly on Good Omens and Discworld, the Narrator was its own unique character.

This is why people struggle adapting Discworld to live action--that medium requires a Reason for having a Narrator, and especially in the age of method acting that's often considered immersion-breaking. Good Omens worked so well because they not only kept the Narrator, but they made Her God.

This added some really interesting new dimensions, such as the scene where Crowley speaks to God about his fall and the destruction of humanity. He doesn't receive an answer, but we're watching from God's perspective, so we as the audience know that She's listening.

Another advantage of making God the Narrator is that it justifies all the goofy little asides we get into the lives of minor characters (i.e. Leslie the Mailman), without losing focus. It helps the world feel like it’s full of people, rather than characters and plot contrivances, and the theme that individual people and their choices are important. The Narrator is such a central character of Good Omens that without it, the story struggles to stay focused.

It also highlights a key difference in the writing styles of the two authors. Pratchett’s work tends to introduce four or five totally unique plot threads that feel completely disjointed until the last act (if not even later), when it turns into a Chekhov’s Firing Squad. Plot twists around secret identities and backstabbing and schemes are relatively rare, as the omniscient Narrator doesn’t lie about the intentions of people or their actions.

Gaiman’s writing is typically not like that, to my knowledge. He buries characters in misdirection and hints, and you never know the true identity or motives until all the chips are down. It’s a perfectly valid way to approach storytelling, but it makes it jarring to see it in S2. The lack of a Narrator is a huge reason why S2 doesn’t feel like Good Omens to some folks.

My gut feeling is that the decision to shift from the original Narrator was highly intentional. It helps to obscure the thoughts and intentions of people, and it also muddles the insights that we’re supposed to take away. (I would have loved hearing God monologue about what’s going on in Jim’s head. I think it’d do a lot to make him seem less.... obnoxiously stupid.)

More than that, it brings up a reasonable potential plot point of: Where did God go? Why isn’t She present in the story? Even in her early appearance in the Job flashback, she doesn’t sound like the narrator for last season. After the first part of her speech (which Gabriel later quotes), her tone turns casual and condescending, which might line up with her being a bit of an asshole, it doesn’t line up with the whole “dealer of a mysterious card game who is always smiling”).

Also, I don’t think it’s safe to assume that nobody is telling the story either. Just because they’re not making their presence known doesn’t mean they aren’t there, and in a story like Good Omens, that’s concerning.

Wait, where's Satan?

Another person I saw while scrolling the tags pointed out that Satan is nowhere to be seen this season. He's really only mentioned in reference to a bet God made in Job, but then Crowley is the one on the ground causing mischief. There's no Hail Satan among demons (like Hastur and Ligur did at the start of S1).

That's might be because the writers didn't want us to think it was important (a la Hastur), but that feels off. Given that Satan speaks directly through the radio to Crowley in S1, complimenting him on his work, it's safe to say that he was at least aware of and involved in the goings-on in Hell. The fact that he wasn't even an worry for Beelzebub in abandoning their post? Feels weird.

(Also if you know where that post is, I'll happy credit + link)

What is Maggie?

Look, I love cute lesbians in love as much as the next queer, but I don't like Maggie. I don’t think she’s a person. Contextually, she’s a plot device, but I agree with That Essay that she might be an actual Plot Device.

Her characterization is simple and relatively shallow—a bit of an airhead, ray of sunshine that’s supposed to remind you of Aziraphale. When she describes her past to Nina, it’s almost robotic (also, her story implies it was Mr. Fell who first rented to her ancestor, not Mr. Fell’s great-grandfather like Nina implied). Her emotions are over-dramatic and seem to be turned on and off at random (scenes with her crying to Aziraphale about her woes had my “manipulator” senses going off for some reason).

When asked about a song, she not only IDs the song, its singer, and its year, but how and on what it was distributed. (Honestly thought this would’ve been something interesting, because she’s been pretty ditzy so far, it’d be interesting if she had like... an insane memory for music history.) And then she’s the one that sets Aziraphale on his little investigation by giving him the transformed records, while also planting the seed about her love troubles with Nina. Later, her advice to Crowley is... not awful, but feels insincere and a bit too forward, given her own self-proclaimed lack of relationship experience.

I don’t know what she is (a demon, hastur with amnesia in disguise, a literal plot device inserted by the current storyteller, etc...), but there’s something not right with her.

(Also the joke of “who listens to records anymore, it’s so old fashioned” just doesn’t land, lots of people buy records, and I’m saying this as somebody who has worked at a record store before.)

What's going on with Aziraphale?

There’s something Off about Aziraphale, and it’s not his choices at the end of the season. That makes total sense if you read him as somebody with severe religious trauma getting dragged back into the abusive system because other people need him and he’s been promised the ability to change things.

But I do think something is happening to his memory. Nearly all the flashbacks are from Aziraphale’s point of view and retelling, which means that they’re less reliable than God’s version of events in the previous season. Many of them don’t make logistical sense (post-church scene in 1941), depict Crowley as meaner or more sinister than we know he is, or frame events... weirdly. The scene with him trying food for the first time feels Really Bad, especially when the series has previously established that he’s a) prim and proper and b) his interest in food is one of the beautiful things that connect him to humanity, not some kind of gluttonous sin. Also he turns down alcohol.

Their meet-cute at the start of the universe also doesn’t line up with their reactions to each other in Eden, or the fact that knowing each other Before has never come up or been hinted at anywhere ever. I don’t know what’s causing this to happen, only that Aziraphale repeatedly looks pensive when coming out of flashbacks, and Crowley is never there afterwards to corroborate said memories.

His actions also seem pretty inconsistent with what we know of him—i.e. I refuse to believe he would ever mistreat his books, even if they’re just old encyclopedias. Also, he feels a bit too...forceful in trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love? I mean, he didn’t exert that much direct influence on even Warlock, when he was actively hoping that the boy would turn out angelic rather than neutral.

I don’t think this removes his agency in that last decision, so much as explains how he was in such a vulnerable place at all. He still needs to apologize and fix things, because he messed up, and even if he hadn’t he still seriously hurt Crowley.

What's going on with Crowley?

There’s something Off about Crowley. The most obvious thing, of course, is his memories. At multiple points in the present day, characters state that they remember him or have met him before, only to be met with confusion. This is especially concerning given that he has a nigh photographic memory for faces (something mentioned in the book when he immediately IDs Mary Loquacious, 11 years after a 30 second conversation).

Overall, he seems to be better known by other supernatural entities this season, in ways that often tie him back to his angelic identity (i.e. saying they fought together in the war, Aziraphale stating he knew the angel he used to be, etc...). This doesn’t feel right, because S1 we see that Hell is largely apathetic towards his schemes, and definitely does not defer to him at any point in any capacity.

Then there’s the issue of his power level. It’s always been speculated that Crowley was a powerful angel prior to falling, when he mentions in S1 his involvement with star making, his seemingly unique ability to freeze time, and creating a pocket universe for Adam before the confrontation with Satan. He also has a tendency of breathing life into inanimate objects, like his plants or car. He also has the regular demonic skillset: miracles that can adjust physical appearance; the ability to change inanimate objects (like paintball guns into real guns); the ability to manifest clothing and similar items; and summon hellfire to his fingertips. This, plus the way he monologues to God with a degree of familiarity rather than reverence seems to indicate that he was Somebody Powerful and Important Before.

But in S2, his skills are significantly expanded upon. The miracle he and Aziraphale summon sets off alarms in heaven and hell, and it’s powerful enough to mask Gabriel from the Archangels. He summons a miniature sun to rain fire on Job, which is way bigger and flashier than anything we’ve seen him summon in S1. (If he needs fire, he alters the course of a dropping bomb, without creating one himself.)

Yet he’s able to cloak his presence so well he goes wholly unnoticed in heaven, or in front of heavenly agents on earth (i.e. the Job flashback). Muriel can’t clock him as a demon, or even as another supernatural being, despite their auras usually being pretty significant, such Aziraphale immediately sensing the archangels when they arrive. He’s able to interfere with files that Muriel claimed required clearance (although I feel like that might just be a snark about Obeying Without Thinking? I would really need a Narrator to know.)

I might be misremembering, but I don’t think we’ve seen angels or demons transmogrify living beings before either. In the book, Crowley brings Aziraphale’s dove back to life after the failed magic show, and occasionally sinks ducks, but he doesn’t alter them? Not even Adam demonstrates that skill in S1. But he has no trouble turning Job’s children into lizards, however temporarily. Boy that would’ve been convenient during the flood. Or when the guard stopped then from getting to the air strip.

I don’t have any real issues with his characterization in the present day parts of S2, but there’s something weird happening with Crowley.

Where's all the people?

I really like a lot of the new characters, but how were there only like, 2.5 new humans named in the present day? Flashbacks don’t count bc the humans are all dead and can’t affect the story.

As much as I like Nina, she and Maggie don’t drive the story beyond being an occasional and awkwardly inserted plot contrivance? Both are actively robbed of their agency at several points, forced into situations that they could not have avoided or escaped. I’m not really sure what growth they’re expected to experience other than deciding not to date each other after everything. I literally can’t tell you anything about Nina other than that she remembers her regular’s orders, runs a coffee shop, and has a textbook abusive partner we never see. The only meaningful interactions they have are between those two, or in conversation with Aziraphale and Crowley.

Compare that to S1, where Anathema gets hit by Aziraphale and Crowley, but her primary relationships are with Newt, Adam, and Agnes Nutter (I think that counts as a relationship). We know that she’s got a wealthy family back in Puerto Rico, and that she was literally raised to save the world, and that she isn’t happy under all that pressure. Newt on the other hand is connected to not just Anathema, but Shadwell and Madame Tracy. He never even directly interacts with Aziraphale and Crowley. We know about his hobbies, his struggle to hold down a job, and his almost supernatural ability to destroy any electronics he touches. I don’t necessarily like how their relationship came together, but they were both very, very well fleshed out characters with unique backstories and goals. They weren’t just... waiting around to give Aziraphale and Crowley a new questline.

And while there’s no requirement to include a large cast of human characters that are exerting influence over the story, the lack of it is another aspect that makes this season feel not like Good Omens.

Also, it's just. Really weird to me that the events of S1 aren't really referenced at all? Like, Adam isn't mentioned, nor is Warlock. I don't expect them to keep track of the humans they met on the airfield for 20 minutes, but none of it is ever specifically referenced as far as I can tell, beyond Crowley threatening Gabriel. Like, I get that it's been a few years, but the pair caused a big enough disturbance that you'd expect some kind of ripples in their supernatural communities.

Promised by the Narrative (Obvious Chekhov's guns that I will be legitimately upset over if they do not go off)

A sincere apology from Aziraphale to Crowley that doesn't come with the expectation that Crowley will come back to him, but because he deserves an apology, even if the choices Aziraphale made were done with good intentions. Aziraphale does not expect forgiveness, and is shocked when Crowley grants it without hesitation.

A clear declaration of love from Aziraphale, which can't be rationalized away by either of them.

An "I'm Sorry" dance between Aziraphale and Crowley, but with greater sincerity and gravity. The most important piece is that they end up dancing together, which signifies a mutual apology and dedication to come together.

Since kissing is on the table, I expect an actual joyful, mutual kiss between these two assholes.

A shared cottage in South Downs.

Predictions/Theories (just some fun thoughts I've had)

When Adam declared that Satan was not his father, he didn't make himself not the antichrist, but accidentally crowned his human dad the King of Hell. Nobody knows this, because Adam doesn't have a good measure for "normal" supernatural situations, and Mr. Young because he's so "normal" that he explains away all the magical bullshit that's started going down.

When Adam declared that Satan was not his father, he erased Satan altogether. However, this left a vacuum in both power and reality. The defection of both Gabriel and Beelzebub only widens that crack. In an attempt to Fix things, reality is warping the story. Crowley has become leagues more powerful between S1 and S2, as the narrative is trying to force him into the role of his previous boss. Aziraphale is unknowingly being pulled into a similar version on the Other Side, perhaps to replace Gabriel or perhaps to replace God herself, who has been fairly absent in all this. The alterations to their memories or past have come about to keep the narrative running smoothly.

When the Metatron asks Nina whether anybody has ever asked for death, he was actually referring to Death, the sole remaining rider of the apocalypse.

If Maggie is indeed a Plot Device, it would be a fascinating exploration of Free Will to see her become aware of this (cue existential crisis), and then fall in love with Nina on her own terms, rather than because she was written that way.

Hastur will be back. Somehow.

The reason why S2 focuses so much on the supernatural characters is because S3 will be about how the events in S1 have changed the political landscape of heaven and hell. Angels are questioning their roles, demons are yearning for something more. It's scaring upper administration, and then the two most reliable folks in employment run away to alpha centauri. Recruiting Aziraphale and getting him back in line prevents him from becoming a martyr, control the range of his influence. The series reasserts its theme of choice and agency by highlighting that Aziraphale and Crowley aren't that special, they've just had the chance to live and grow, and that the others have free will too, if they want it.

The reason why they wanted to separate Aziraphale and Crowley, is not to get Aziraphale on his own, but to get Crowley on his own. He literally stopped time and made a pocket universe in front of Satan last season. He's powerful and dangerous and somebody wants to see that reigned in.

Wishlist (stuff I desperately want to see)

Crowley getting an audience with God and an opportunity to ask his questions, only to refuse to do so because he's found his own Answers and he no longer needs hers

Aziraphale and Crowley growing more into their book incarnations. Aziraphale becomes confident in his sense of morality, which he developed the hard way through millennia on earth besides humanity. He slowly learns what it means to be loved, unconditionally, but also is better at asserting and maintaining his boundaries. Crowley, still anxious and unwinding, works through his fear of abandonment, providing him opportunities to be kind and gentle and nurturing--all traits that he's aggressively hid since being a demon.

Hand holding. I know that Gaiman was referring to Ineffable Bureaucracy, but I still feel like we'd benefit from meaningful hand holding, especially since that got cut from the adaptation of the book.

Shifted focus away from the supernatural shenanigans, and back onto the humans that actually drive the story.

Cameos from S1 characters (if not a more substantial appearance).

The Four Other Riders of the Apocalypse.

Cursed Thoughts (why I shouldn't be allowed a social platform)

Ineffable Bureaucracy turns up in season 3 because Beelzebub got Gabriel pregnant somehow.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens 2 theory #good omens 2 analysis #long post #text

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iheartchv · 7 months

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Sunny Day Jack x Reader:

I Never Forgot 2

What if you were one of the few people who remembered vividly about Sunny Day Jack... even after the whole show seemed to have been forgotten?

☀️Rating: Fluffy

🌈 Part 1 | 🌈 Part 3

❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤

Rousing from the (fainting?) episode, you groggily recalled what happened. Lets see... You went to a threft store, came home with a VCR tape, and then... the next thing you knew, you woke up laying on the couch. And sitting on the floor next to you was Jack (you remembered him, though) with a worried look on his face. How did he even get here...?

"Hey, are you okay, y/n? You had me worried there for a minute." He gave you a relieved smile.

You blinked in confusion. "You're... still here... It wasn't a dream? Ha, so it wasn't no fever dream!" You then sat up as you exclaimed. "I knew it!"

"What? What is it?" He was still looking concerned about you as he wondered what you were talking about.

"You... The SunnyTime Crew Show... it was all real. I knew I wasn't crazy."

He blinked in confusion, but didn't say anything to upset you. That was the last thing he wanted to do. "Who said you were crazy?"

"People on the internet, those I come in contact with. They kept telling me there was no such thing.. but I knew I couldn't have made all of that part of my childhood up."

"Hm? What's an internet?"

Oh, right. The internet wasn't widely used till the late 90s. You explained what the internet was and how much everything has changed since then. You then started talking to him, catching him up on things. For the entire moment, you felt like you were catching up with a best friend. Your eyes softened as you looked away from him, feelings and memories of Ian coming to mind.

Jack noticed the change in you. "Hey, is everything okay? You look so sad."

You turned to look back at him. "Oh, I'm just... thinking about someone."

"And do they always make you feel that way?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you... want to talk about it?" His dark yet soft eyes looked at you with such care. Your heart sped up with a pleasant feeling as the look he gave you was one you had seen multiple times in the show, one of kindness and caring. "I'm here for you, Sunshine. You know that, right? I care about you, and I only want you to be happy."

"Sunshine? You've never used to say that."

"Well, uhm, it's... a special nickname. And... you're a very special friend to me." A tint of pink colored his cheeks. Then he placed his hand on your shoulder. "If that's alright by you, I mean..."

You didn't mind that nickname. If anyone else called you that, or any other name related to the cute kind, you would've been like a grumpy bear. But because it was Jack, you didn't mind at all. "That's fine by me."

"Great." He smiled brightly, a huge grin on his face. The way he acted would remind you of a puppy. "Oh, by the way... I've got a question that I wanted to ask you."

"Ask away."

"How... how do you know who I am? I didn't introduce myself to you. Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered that you know who I am." He gave a chuckle. "I'm just curious." He folded his arms on the edge of the couch near you and rested his chin on them, seeming to watch you.

"I... just knew." You shrugged. "You've always caught my attention... and, maybe, because I felt kinda connected to you." How could you give a definitive answer when you were just as confused as he was?

"Hm, okay. I'll take your word for it, Sunshine." He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but to smile back. His whole being was infectious, just being around him would make you feel happy and warm inside. "So, what do you wanna do?"

Question was... Where to start?

I think I'll write one more part to this and end this story. Maybe when the full game is released, and with more research on the lore, I will rewrite this story. Enjoy SDJ fandom~☁️🌈☀️

#sdj #swwsdj #somethings wrong with sunny day jack #sdj x reader #xreader #sunny day jack #sdj fandom #sunny day jack fandom #swwsdj fandom #sunny day jack x reader #somethings wrong with sunny day jack fandom #iheartchv

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lugarn · 4 months

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Sex Worker Camp & Groundbreaking in Playboyy

You might say that sex worker camp is a genre that doesn't exist.

You'd be wrong! For as long as there has been camp, there has been sex worker camp. Buckle up for a long meta!

I think the easiest, most well-known example of camp that touches on SW camp is Rocky Horror! Rocky is literally a gay sex bot in a narrative that's about exploring your sexual desires against the backdrop of what society has told you those desires are. He got to figure out what his desires were, even though he was created for a particular purpose!

Sex work camp also engages with the fears of sex workers, since camp often engages (in ways that sometimes seem absurd) with the fears of the characters. I don't mean specifically a character's personal fears as much as I mean their fears for the role society has determined they have. We in theory have no caste systems in most countries today, but sex workers are still somehow usually at the bottom of the social hierarchy despite that.

That's a thing I love about sex work camp: the juxtaposition of desire and knowing that whatever desire you have has little place because you have a job or are performing a role. Ownership and roles are themes that are visited and revisited in Playboyy. In every single episode, there are questions about who owns who, and what the person being owned feels about the fact that they lack freedom, and exploring the ways in which every single one of the workers chooses or doesn't choose to be owned.

The longer the show goes on, the deeper and more extreme we have gotten with roles and the limitations of roles, from the question of Zouey and his desires in episode one to the fact that Porsche and Prom are both sugaring for the same daddy and the things that means for both of them. There's been a satisfying (campy) heightening and recommitment to the theme in every episode with the roles and ownership becoming more and more complex and interconnected.

Another theme of sex work camp that is visited and re-visited is "characters doing sex work enjoy sex/sex work". Why? Because the dominant (heteropatriarchal) narrative is that sex workers are doing that job because we've been forced/"Circumstances".

I know this is really putting myself out there, but I know people must be wondering, so let's go there: here's my connections to sex work! I grew up in a family where consensual, by-choice sex work was normalized and I spent a lot of time passively absorbing information about sex work and the people who do it. My family is incredibly sex-positive; a member of my family was a madam pre-covid; former and current sex workers are the celebrated decades-long partners of multiple members of my family. That's just my background, though.

Most of my own personal experience is survival sex work--exchanging sex for things that meet your immediate needs, most often done by people living on or adjacent to the streets, often those with gaps in education. I was homeless at the time I was doing it; I didn't graduate high school. My story has been told a hundred times by a hundred different people. This is part of why I am so passionate on the subject of other narratives about sex workers and other types of sex work getting a chance to feature in media; my story is not just represented but over-represented. But the stories of people I know and love who engaged with the sex work industry far longer than me are still nowhere to be found.

Playboyy showcases sex workers as full people, no different than the rich boys they are dating/'dating', using their full agency to decide what are the best options in their own situations. It treats these decisions as correct and meaningful and doesn't treat the act of choosing sex work as pitiable or an inherently negative choice. The narrative also doesn't punish the characters for doing sex work.

(I'm aware it seems very much that Nant got hurt during sex work. They are going to great pains to humanize that pain, but there are other people whose narratives aren't about them being hurt by sex work: Teena, Soong, Jump. That's how you show a well-rounded story.)

This is the most obvious aspect of the subversive way Playboyy showcases sex work, but Playboyy's also gotten into so many other important things that people who aren't aware of sex worker priorities don't realize might be important.

If you've read opinions from sex workers or spoken to us it's very likely you've heard what problems we have with past portrayals of sex work and sex workers in TV/movies, but if you haven't, people much more qualified to write essays than me have written much better, journalist-quality pieces. Chaospikachu produced some pretty good sources on this post; they are good jumping off points that will give you ideas about what things to google further if that's your jam. (And you should google further--people have been talking about these things since usenet.)

In my experience, many former and current sex workers watch media with us in it because we love us even if society doesn't. I approach media featuring sex work skeptically and expect to be disappointed, but in spite of that approach I have found myself pleasantly surprised so far with Playboyy. The show does have problems, of course--no piece of media is without fault--but there's not much comparison for what they're doing because they've committed so fully to the ideal of 'sex worker camp' that in six (of fourteen) episodes they've already gone leaps and bounds past the places other media stopped.

Here's a little list of other things I've seen in Playboyy that I either haven't seen elsewhere or have seen so rarely that it's still groundbreaking:

SW and clients navigating starting/maintaining a relationship! This is sometimes taboo to talk about, but it happens. It happens a damn lot. Humans are humans, we just fall in love sometimes but this isn't an experience that gets to typically be seen in a complete, unflinching way. There are good parts and bad! I've known people who made it work and I've known people who crashed and burned; there are a lot of really predictable hurdles to pass and Teena/Zouey, Nuth/Phop, and Soong/First are showcasing these in a way no other media I've seen even tries to when depicting this type of relationship.

So many different types of sex work, and sex workers not sticking to one type of work either! This is much more realistic and reflective of my experiences; making money at sex work is often a matter of a lot more weaving of separate hustles together than people who aren't used to poverty seem to have the ability to understand. I can only think of a few very specific and specialized types of sex work that I haven't seen in the show yet and that's weird and wild (positive)! Normally there's one, maybe two or three types of sex work in evidence in a show about sex work so having lots of different types all co-existing is beautiful to me.

Sex workers fucking sex workers for fun and experience! It's so common in my experience but it's not something I've ever seen done before, and the way that they are showing many different types of ways of this happening makes me even happier. (So far we've gotten us having sex with us in these circumstances: for clients, as a means of protection, as a way to 'prove' yourself, and for tutelage.) There can be a real feeling of camaraderie and competition with fellow workers sometimes and Playboyy captures this like nothing I've seen before.

Sex workers having boundaries! Even mid-sex. And the boundaries aren't treated as a joke or a comedic moment that the client then disregards. They're moments of real communication where the boundary gets respected or the encounter ends, for better or worse.

Sex workers having nuanced, complex feelings! Not just about the sex work, but also the events in their lives and each other. Their relationships are complex and give glimpses of how much more there is to be uncovered! Partying, laughing, being angry, being verklempt, finding enemies and finding family with each other. Crying, too, yeah. But there's a whole spectrum of feelings on display beyond the normal tragic ones that are 'allowed', including the desire for sex inside and outside of sex work.

Everyone communicates to the best of their ability! This isn't just a sex worker thing--it applies to First and Zouey as well--but it's normal for media about sex workers to actually involve a lot of misunderstandings that don't get fully discussed. The misunderstandings between characters Playboyy get treated as serious and discussed in a way I haven't seen other BLs show before. Misunderstandings aren't a chance for Plot to fester, but rather a chance for reconciliation. It's just plain great modeling of healthy communication.

All of this and more adds up to Playboyy being a show that knows who their intended audience is and commits to that audience over and over week after week. Not by painting our experiences as flat or singular, but by fully committing to showing a very wide swath of our experiences and humanizing every single choice. You don't have to understand or like the show for these things to still be huge and important for SW representation.

Playboyy is just casually doing what it's doing regardless of the larger opinion, which is the most sex worker camp part of it all. The show knows what it is about even if fandom hasn't figured things out yet.

#playboyy the series #playboyy #playboyy meta #if you can't see this directly because i have you blocked i don't care if you dodge the block #my blocklist isn't personal #it's there to make navigating the site less stressful for me

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catwalkvivi · 1 month

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well hey, since hardly anyone's looking at this corner of the website anyway I might as well take the opportunity to vent (it's annoying to do it on twitter with the character cap)

Man, social media is hard.

I see so many people posting regular content consistently for years and years without even seemingly breaking a sweat, while it's always been so difficult for me... Calculating engagement, deciding the best times to post, or, hell, even just sharing what they think/feel/made/fucking ate that day just seems, like, so easy and second nature for pretty much everyone around me. It's genuinely incredible to me that somebody can share what they've learned about idk shitty impractical tanks made in WW1 on this website and make it such an interesting read that hundreds of people engage with it!

But I've tried keeping social media accounts for art and stuff so many times now, on here, on Instagram, on Artstation, on Xitter, and eventually it just- kinda- fades away, it just feels so exhausting to keep track of all the things necessary to Chase the Algorhythm™ if you wanna have any relevancy. Is it a charisma thing??? Where do I grind to get a stat boost on my Cha???

I'd love to say it doesn't matter to me, since I've been drawing shit for myself for years now, but unfortunately artists do need social media presence if they wanna get work. Not to mention, well, I wanna reach people with the stuff I do! I want people to react to what I made, to say what they liked about it, or how it made them feel, and then when I post something I worked on for hours only to get, like, almost zero visibility? idk, man, it just kinda hurts. It's probably selfish and immature for me to say it, I know that it takes time and effort to build an audience and all that, but damn I get happy when people show me that something I've made has affected them positively. I like the connection, I like the conversations, I like meeting people who enjoy the same nerdy trash that I do!

(I was very fortunate to have an art post of mine reach a lot of notes here years ago, which was amazing, but it's such a rare thing)

God, and, like, there's all these weird unspoken rules about interacting on social media too.

The other day a friend of mine came up to our friend group and was like "oh my god this girl liked my stories on instagram it means something does she like me" and I was SO confused and then they were like "well, when somebody not on your friends list likes your stories, it means they're interested in you"

Then some time later another friend was telling me that somebody stopped liking her posts and unfriended her and how that is a horrible offense and my fucking brain hurt, like- okay I get the unfriend part kinda but there could be a hundred reasons for it??? it's not like you have a deep personal connection to all 300 friends you have on your account???

Then I see so many people out there simply sharing something they think or did only to have some rando twist what they said and come at them like they're the shittiest person on the planet that deserves everything bad in life actually (except the ones that are willingly spouting/promoting hateful shit to begin with. Those can rot in hell and I shall not mourn their demise)

Like??? It might be the Power of Autism™ in me but it always feels like I'm one step away from either making a fool of myself or offending twenty different people or both. It's both the fear of having hundreds of thousands of eyes on me and the fear of having none at all. And that makes it really difficult to share anything on the internet for me. I already have to deal with my entire existence as a trans woman making some cunts around the world mad, it sucks that I have to risk it in places where I just wanna post dumb drawings and talk about dumb things that make me happy with others.

I dunno. Word vomit I guess. Social media is hard. Interacting with humans is hard. Sharing stuff is hard. I prefer Pokémon

#venting

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kyndaris · 3 months

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Preaching to the Chorus

About three years ago, Troy Baker pitched the idea of a video game musical called Chorus. What struck me, beyond the fact it was asking for donations as it was a crowdfunded project, were the high profile voice actors taking part, the art style, the bringing on of composer Austin Wintory and that it was being developed by an Australian developer! Years later, there was almost no word or hint of the game and I feared the worst. For a good long while, I wondered if I had just imagined the game being announced. Until, of course, Summerfall Studios announced the upcoming release of Stray Gods in August 2023! Suddenly, we had a release date and songs to enjoy after years of what had felt like absolute silence.

Yes, Chorus had changed its name but it was still the same premise I was promised: an urban fantasy Greek-mythology inspired musical where I got to make decisions on where the songs went. Needless to say, I was excited!

Despite it releasing in August, I didn't get to play the game until much later in 2023 when I finally got a bit of a breather between all my lengthy video games sucking up most of my time (and the fact I work full-time and commit to writing my stories and watching endless TV shows to be up-to-date on whatever is popular). Well, no. That's a lie. I've put a few games on the back burner like Octopath Traveler II and Like a Dragon: Ishin! (they are totally going to be played soon, I promise!)

In any case, I purchased the game while it was on sale (a measly 20% or so) and then stepped into the shoes of Grace. And almost immediately connected with her feelings of being cast adrift. Like so many people who have graduated university, and who didn't immediately apply for graduate programs, she's a little lost and unsure of her direction in life. Enter Calliope.

After the two share a duet together, Grace returns to the apartment she shares with longtime best friend: Freddie. As she rests, there's a knock on the door and lo! Calliope staggers through clutching a ghastly wound. With her last breath, she passes on her eidolon (the soul? and memories of an Idol) before dying in poor traumatised Grace's arms.

As Grace, understandably, panics, at the sudden turn of events, Hermes steps through the front door and tells Grace she needs to meet the Chorus. Within moments, Grace is taken to an upscale office room where she is greeted by Apollo, Persephone, Aphrodite and Athena. Before Grace can get a word in edgewise, these Idols (as the Gods now call themselves - although it makes me wonder if other pantheons exist in this world created by Summerfall), decide to execute Grace for the crime of maybe-possibly killing Calliope. That is until Apollo protests.

And protest he must consider later plot points. Such as him divulging the prophecy leading to Calliope's murder!

Honestly, so much of the story could have been resolved if Apollo stopped being a sad boy and actually used some brains to more cleverly resolve Grace's predicament. Instead, we have Grace run around the city for a week in a bid to prove her innocence and figure out the truth behind Calliope's death.

But what a wonderful week it was as several Idols help out, from the fast-talking Pan to the scary Medusa (with a very cute monster voice from Anjali Bhimani). But who can forget, and forgive me as a I fan myself and swoon over, the dommy mummy: Persephone. The design! The voice! The attitude? Gosh, I just wanted Persephone to step all over me. And considering the height difference she had over Grace?

Just...

I'm just going to die in a corner over here now.

Anyways, diversion aside, the plot was serviceable. It wasn't the most mindblowing story to be told but I liked how it introduced us to many of the Greek Gods and mythological creatures hiding in America, whilst weaving it in the murder mystery plot at its core. While the game threw out new leads often, I didn't ever feel an urgency to solve the crime or fear I'd not be able to figure out the murderer. Sherlock Holmes, this is not.

Rather, no matter which scenes you may wish to complete first (and I always went back to the Underworld to chat up Persephone), I feel like the end-point is almost always the same with our villain being unmasked as the smiling cookie-giver!

From a gameplay perspective, Stray Gods doesn't offer much. It's pretty much a visual novel where the player selects dialogue options or the next part of the song they wish to sing. There's no walking around or exploring the wondrous set pieces you find yourself in. Nor is there any random clicking on background objects for some light commentary or to pocket away clues to be presented at some other time.

In fact, there's no real animation to the game either. Most of the characters are stills, changing their posture as the dialogue or songs demand. Like flipping through a comic book or going from pane to pane.

But what does make Stray Gods stand out are the songs. Yes, there are some where I felt like it faltered: Asterion and Hecate's song (with the volume turned way too low) and some of the weaker blue options in Challenging a Queen. To me, it just wasn't as melodic as they could be and sounded a little jarring. Still, these were glossed over by several other standout songs like The Throne and the Ritual.

Speaking of The Ritual, while I did feel for Aphrodite, I didn't much like her selfish actions of dying and passing her trauma onto another poor soul. Like, either go to therapy and work on your issues or just die permanently and stop inflicting someone else with your trauma! Forgetting is not the path forward. And maintaining the cycle of the next Aphrodite reawakening to your traumatic memories of the Second World War whilst your son, Eros, deals with the fallout is NOT healthy.

On a side note, I liked how the melody of Adrift was used in the background of the game and was also revisited during The Trial.

As for the actual singing, I'm still impressed by the singing of so many of the voice actors. I mean, I wasn't surprised by Troy Baker considering he was a musician before he was a voice actor. And Felicia Day...well, considering I'd stumbled upon her back in her The Guild days, knew she could sing because of the songs she released. And the fact she appeared in Dr Horrible's Sing-Along Blog alongside Neil Patrick Harris and Nathan Fillion.

While I did like Laura Bailey, there were moments when I felt her vocals were just a little too raw and weren't able to hit the notes as well as could be. No shade on Laura, though. I love Laura Bailey! And she had a tough task with so many variations to sing!

Still, I did like her rapping. MORE LAURA BAILEY RAPPING PLEASE! Especially in the Challenging a Queen song.

But I do wonder what Stray Gods might have been like if we had actual Broadway actors brought in for the singing with stronger vocals and/ or melodies.

But I must say, my absolute favourite singer was Mary Elizabeth McGlynn. How could I not? She voiced Persephone! And I so wanted to romance her!

In the end, though, I foiled my chances because I was trying to play in-character by asking myself 'What would Grace do?' in most situations, especially when she was down in the Underworld and was especially traumatised by her best friend's death.

So, yes. I obviously brought Freddie back and the two ended up getting together in one of the more wholesome relationships there is in the game. Because, if you ask me, Pan? He just shows up out of the blue and is all sneaky-sneaky. A girl with her head on her shoulders wouldn't immediately fall for him, even if his intentions were good.

And Apollo? I know my friend @mrsarmageddon likes a 'I-can-fix-him-sad-boy' but he was too set in his ways and a little too unwilling to be of any proper assistance until all his secrets had been unveiled.

As for Persephone, she's a very angry woman and also wouldn't have been a healthy choice considering her romance with CALLIOPE in the past. Still, I couldn't help but want her step on me.

I don't know what that says about me. I'm probably secretly a sub/ omega who just wants someone to take care of me.

But let's not dwell on what this revelation could be and instead talk about how Stray Gods pushed the gaming genre to try and be more inclusive in ways no-one had thought of before. Beyond that, I loved the characters. The narrative, while simplistic, was entertaining enough to pull me through my initial playthrough of six and a bit hours. So, it's not even all that long. Which is perfect when you're gainfully employed and have a ton of time-consuming hobbies.

The one major downside to me was the fact it didn't have a chapter select after the first playthrough. If it did have it, allowing me to skip ahead to say 'Act 3' to redo my conversation with Persephone so I could romance her, or skip to certain songs so I could try out different combinations or variations, it would have heightened the gaming experience for me. Instead, Stray Gods forced me to play through the entire game again just for the occasional tweaks I wanted to do in my playthrough.

And now, during The Game Awards 2023, there's been an announcement for ANOTHER musical game called Harmonium. And it features sign language! So, it's definitely something I want to keep an eye on!

YES! TO MORE VIDEO GAME MUSICALS!

But also, don't let it become too overly saturated. During the Game Awards, I couldn't help but notice more Souls-like battle systems, using Japan as a setting (for Western developers) and more mechs/ robots.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and admire the Queen of the Underworld a little bit more. For perfectly REASONABLE purposes.

#video games #stray gods #grace x persephone #grace x freddie #musical #why are there so many musicals about the Greek Gods?#charon just wants to play a game

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