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merakiui · 1 month

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risky rascality (tsum sex).

azutsum x (female) reader x azul ashengrotto cw: nsfw, non-con, tsum sex, tsum has a dick, ntr, shameless smut, loss of virginity, cumflation, characters written as 18+ note - don't underestimate the importance of body language. (or: azul's tsum misreads your intentions and fucks you.)

You’ve found yourself in Azul’s VIP room plenty of times in the past, so it’s impossible to explain the anxiety that washes over you. Sudden like a devastating tidal wave, it rocks you to your core the moment Azul offers you a casual smile. He’s so charming. You almost forget you’re here for your usual tutoring session and not a study date. One can dream.

“Before we begin, I’ll have to step out for a moment. There’s something that requires my immediate attention. I shouldn’t be too long. In the meantime, would you mind getting your notes out and turning to the chapter we last left off at?”

Having been so caught up in admiring the way he stands in the doorway, you startle at the sound of his smooth voice. “Next chapter… R-Right! Yes, of course! I’ll do that. You do your thing. I’m not going anywhere.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, he shuts the door behind him. The stiffness in your shoulders ebbs away then, and you slouch back against the sofa. With an embarrassed groan, you drag your hands down your face.

Be normal for one minute, (Name). This isn’t anything special.

Something nudges your thigh and you lower your arms to find Azul’s tsum pushing your textbook towards you. He struggles more than he makes any apparent success, and it’s a cute sight that has a smile sprouting on your lips.

“Thanks, little guy.” You lift the book up to spare him of the burden and set it on the table. A cup of tea rests inches away, steam curling from the liquid in fragrant tendrils. The tsum blinks up at you, wordless like always. “You don’t have to stay for this, you know. I’m sure you’d much rather explore campus.”

The tsum stares and then, as if your words have somehow offended him, he rears forward to knock his head into your thigh again. His fedora falls off in the process, but he pays it no mind and continues to bump into your leg.

“Okay, okay! You can stay.” You laugh and hold your hands up in surrender. “I never said you had to leave.”

Lifting the tiny fedora from the sofa, you place it atop the tsum’s head. It’s uncanny how much of Azul you see in him. Even the beauty mark is in the right place… How peculiar.

Seeming pleased with this, the tsum scrambles to get into your lap. You place your hand under him and help him up. Even though he doesn’t have a mouth, he looks very happy here, bouncing up and down with what you think is a show of enthusiasm.

“You’re adorable, Azutsum. I wish I could say that to your counterpart. He’s great, you know? The most amazing guy I’ve ever met.” You squish Azutsum between your hands and sigh dreamily. “I’m actually not that bad at magic history. I just pretended so I could spend more time with Azul outside of class.”

Azutsum narrows his eyes at you.

“You disapprove?”

He squirms out of your grasp and jumps up towards your chest. You catch him before he can fall back onto your lap. It doesn’t look like open disapproval. Maybe the tsum just doesn’t understand your feelings. You don’t expect him to. If he’s anything like Azul, he’s probably more focused on the lounge or money. Azul did mention he spent a good half of the morning testing the tsum’s affinity for business.

You glance at your textbook. One day you’ll confess. It won’t be today, though. With a sigh, you resign yourself to your reality and place the tsum on the table. You manage to open the book and flick through a few pages before Azutsum pounces on top. He glowers at you, demanding attention. In a way, when he isn’t being expressive like this, he reminds you of a turtle. That thought prompts a chuckle from you and you nudge him away gently.

“I’d love to play more, but I’ve gotta start reviewing. It’ll look odd if Azul walks in and I haven’t made any progress.”

Despite this, Azutsum persists. He prods at your hand, squeaking at you in what sounds like annoyance. A needy thing, this tsum. You’ve never known Azul to be so shamelessly direct, so it takes you by surprise when his tsum rolls around to wrinkle the pages. You gasp just as it tears.

“Don’t be so careless!” You grab hold of the tsum before he can cause further damage to your precious book. Pinching his cheek in light admonishment, you hold him close to your face. “All right, you have my attention. Please don’t destroy my books.”

The tsum beams.

“Aren’t you proud? Seriously… I’m only forgiving you because you look like my crush,” you mutter, your cheeks warming.

If only Azul was this hungry for my attention…

Azutsum wriggles happily in your hands. It’s a challenge to stay angry at such a cute plush. A prisoner to his charms, you pet him affectionately. He seems to bask in your touch, turning over on his back so that you can give his belly the same amount of love.

“Maybe not a turtle. You’re more like a puppy.”

Smiling to yourself, you rub the tsum’s belly. He seems to appreciate the gesture, for he squeaks in excitement. If he wasn’t sentient, you’d probably mistake him for a pillow. He’s soft like one, squishy like a plush. You knead him every now and then, pressing your fingers into his abdomen. You’re sure there’s nothing but stuffing inside, but a morbidly curious part of you wonders if he has organs and blood. Unlikely. But it’s still fun to fantasize over the wildly impossible.

“Do you like that?” You watch gleefully as the tsum squeezes his eyes shut and squirms. His squeaks are loud. “Seems like it. After this, though, I need to get back to work.”

You’re so swept up in toying with the tsum that it shocks you out of your skin when he jumps out of your arms abruptly. You assume he’s gotten tired of the teasing, but then he’s launching himself at you to tackle you onto the sofa. The force knocks you down, and you gasp as the leather cushions cradle you in the aftermath of your fall.

“Hey! What was that for?” You lift your head up to look at him. A familiar weight settles on top of you. “You’re stronger than you look…”

You gaze at Azutsum and the laughter sticks in your throat. There’s a distinctly human cock curving up along the length of your stomach, grotesquely thick and leaking pre-cum, maddeningly disproportionate. Your eyes widen, and a shard of horror lodges itself in your heart.

“W-Wait… Hold on!” You scramble to get away, but the tsum shifts so that the head of his cock presses against your skirt. You yelp when he moves again to prod at your clothed pussy. “Don’t touch there—you can’t!”

He presses inwards, blocked only by your panties, and squeaks sadly. You claw at the sofa, desperate to escape. Azutsum isn’t listening. He continues to rut uselessly between your thighs. Much to your disbelief, the pressure of his cock straining to find its home inside your tight hole leaves you soaking through your panties. If you aren’t thinking about it—about the fact that this insane cock belongs to this little tsum—you almost trick yourself into picturing Azul leaning over you on the sofa. He’d grab your hips, yank you to meet him halfway, slot himself inside slowly… He’d praise you for taking him so well, whisper the sweetest of filth, kiss you dizzy!

That sugar-encrusted delusion shatters the moment his fleshy head catches on your panties. Somehow they’re pushed aside as he bullies his way closer to your cunt. Your eyes snap open just as he pushes inside.

“No, no, no! A-Azutsum, don’t do—ooh!”

Your pleas taper off into a low groan just as he slides in. It feels strange, a foreign fit. Is this really going to be your first time? With withering resolve, you reach for the tsum in hopes of tugging him away from your pussy. He draws back, searching for the right rhythm, and sinks further into wet walls. The breath is punched out of your lungs once he’s managed to fit half of his absurd length inside you.

Tears gather in your eyes. “Take it out… Please… It feels weird and—” he bucks forwards and you suck in a breath through your teeth— “h-hurts!”

Azutsum squeaks softly at you. Consolation? Maybe. Or perhaps it’s a parody of a sweet nothing. How is this possible? He shouldn’t be this big. He shouldn’t even have this anatomy to begin with! Where was he even hiding such a monstrous size?

Your arm falls over your face. Despite everything, the fit is snug. You’re not sure you can take another inch. Azutsum disagrees with this unvoiced sentiment, instead choosing to fuck in and out of you until you’re properly slick. It leaves you shuddering with a strange desire—whether that’s to get away or stay, you can’t determine.

Submitting to your fate—though your hips flinch with every thrust—you allow your mind to wander. You envision Azul and wish he was here in place of this devious tsum. Maybe then you’d be more receptive. Maybe then you wouldn’t be crying. Maybe then the drag of his cock along your walls would actually feel satisfying.

Azutsum’s squeaks join the obscene squelch of skin on skin. It’s noisy and gross. You smell yourself on the air—the unmistakable odor of salt and sin. He fucks like he’s running late, driving his cock as deep as it can possibly go. Your back arches up towards the invisible body that ought to be hovering over you right now. If it was Azul, you’d loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to taste him.

It’s not Azul. It will never be Azul.

All you can do is lie there and take it. At some point, the stretch is less of a pain and more of a unique fullness. It’s not unpleasant, weirdly. Rather, you find yourself grinding down to meet each of his sporadic thrusts, chasing a high that’s so conflicting.

What am I doing? This is so wrong! you think, writhing like a fish out of water. And yet you can’t stop.

“Azutsum, please—” You gasp sharply when he hits a particular spot deep within you, your eyes rolling back into your skull. That’s…not your cervix, is it? There’s no way… Surely he didn’t do that. But then the tip of his cock prods at it again, this time with more insistence, and you throw your head back and howl. “Wait, slow down! Hurts—that hurts!”

Tears trail down your cheeks. You wipe them away to no avail. They just keep pouring, made plentiful by the cock ramming against a place that’s never been reached before. You cry out again when he eases out partially and slams back in with forceful determination. His motions are sloppy now, a stuttering, jerky movement that fills you with more cock than you’ve ever taken in your life before. Your fingers and dildo can’t compare to this—nothing can.

In just a few more riotous strokes, the tsum burrows his cock all the way to the hilt and releases inside with a strangled squeak. Thick, warm cum floods your womb at once, so copious it leaves your stomach with a slight bloat. Dazed, just managing to collect yourself, you press down against your belly to feel the bulge of his cock.

“Please…” you whisper, panting, “pull out already…”

Azutsum starts to do that, only to thrust back in. His cock keeps all of his cum effectively plugged.

“No more… I can’t take anymore. Please…”

But he’s already moving, intent on going at it until his balls are drained and you’re properly filled. In the meantime, you shut your eyes and welcome the chimera of an absentee Azul.

You’re not sure how long it’s been or how many rounds you’ve gone, but by the end of it you’re stuffed. Azutsum finally eases out after so much time spent thrust up inside. Shivering, you peer over the deceptive dome that is your stomach. If anyone were to see you, they’d certainly think you were pregnant and not just packed full of cum. You don’t want to know where such a little tsum gets so much virility. Best not to question it, otherwise you’ll drive yourself mad trying to figure it out.

Azutsum climbs up onto your rounded belly, gazing down at you with newfound fondness in his blue eyes. You’re not sure where his cock’s retreated to now. At least it’s over. Defeated, you reach up and pat his head.

The door to the VIP room creaks open then. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, (Name). Some nuisances—ah, I mean customers—don’t know when to—” Azul chokes on the rest of his sentence, his wide-eyed gaze drawn to you splayed out on the leather sofa. Cum dribbles from your abused cunt, pooling below on the cushion.

You can’t bear to look at him, so you bury your face in your hands. “S-Sorry. I’m sorry! I’ll clean it. Just please… Please don’t look.” Shyly, you squeeze your legs shut in hopes of preserving what’s left of your dignity. You’ve never felt humiliation as hot and heavy as this before.

Azutsum squeaks a joyful greeting.

You can’t see him, but his face has exploded with a fiery embarrassment. He’s doing everything he can to avoid staring at you. No matter how hard he tries, his eyes are drawn to your stomach, to your pussy clenched around nothing and leaking cum, to the devilishly proud tsum perched on top… Most importantly, you miss the way his slacks tighten in the crotch and the way he swallows thickly.

Clearing his throat, his words awkward, Azul says, “P-Perhaps we ought to postpone today’s session…”

It’s for the best. He’s not sure he’d be able to explain his reaction if you were to catch it.

#meraki mumbles #n/sfw #tw: noncon #FOOD IS SERVED!!!!!! :D

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viperdove-if · 1 year

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They will sing songs of our legacy, weave tales of the blood we spilled and the hearts we stole. We have carved our names in history, my dove, using the lives of the guilty. And once you are appointed, you too will be marked in legend.

DEMO TBA | CHARACTER POSTS

Genre: dark, crime, romance, gangs

Setting: fictional world of Hera, ancient times

You are the Dove, the heir to one of the most powerful crime families in your country. The grip your family--your father--has on their side of the land is tight, and now that you've reached adulthood it's time for you to be fully absorbed into the machinations of gang warfare. That means opium, mercenaries, assassinations. In this ancient world, blood moves people just as much as money does.

But your family is not the only family with a steel-like grip on Hera. The Dimas family have been your rivals for centuries, a blood feud fueling the anger on both sides. You both fight for territories, for money, terrorize innocent civilians and throw them in a fight they never asked to be part of. Eventually it must end...and eventually it will come down to you and the Viper, the rival heir.

But when murders and kidnappings crop up on both sides of families, the blood feud grows larger. Because there is an even bigger threat coming, and a blood war may be the only way to get out of it.

Viper & Dove is a dark romantic interactive fiction that follows two crime families in a blood feud taking place in ancient times. It is rated 18+ for violence, explicit themes, possible sexual content, and gore.

Customize your heir from name, appearance, gender identity, pronouns, demeanor and more. Customize their approach to their position and how they feel about their family and their responsibilities.

Choose a weapon of choice like a sword, throwing knives, and more.

Choose what kind of heir you want to be, and how far you're willing to go to protect your title from your endless siblings...who are various shades of bloodthirsty.

Indulge in romances that go from a doomed Romeo & Juliet narrative to a bully arranged-marriage romance to a bodyguard romance.

more features to come.

Talon/Thea 'The Viper' Dimas (m/f) : the eldest and heir to your rival family, neither of you can live while the other one breathes. Everyone is waiting with baited breath for the day you two come face to face for a fight to the death to finally bring an end to a century long rivalry...in blood. The day seems to be inching closer, and you wonder if you're prepared.

You are forbidden to see them. Forbidden to speak to them. Romancing them grants a punishment in blood.

Romance: enemies to lovers, forbidden lovers, heirs to rival families, Romeo & Juliet-esque

Alastair (m): your father's advisor, his second-hand man. He is serious, distant, and treats you with neutrality, mostly because of who you are. He oversees everything your father does and your father trusts him with his life. Romancing you would mean certain death for him.

Romance: forbidden romance

Shadow (real name unknown) (m/f): the family's head assassin and lapdog for your father, indebted to him like a prisoner. They have killed many, and their deaths pile up in a way that keeps them quiet and isolated. They do not speak, least of all to you, and you rarely see them underneath their assassins garb.

Romance: forbidden romance

Kalis Dimas (f): the twin of your rival. Even though she is a Dimas, you feel she has no interest in the blood feud. She is too kind, too pure. If anyone were to find you speaking to her--especially her very protective twin--the results could be detrimental to you both.

Romance: forbidden romance

Oren/Odessa (m/f): your betrothed. They are mean, rude, and a bully, and yet you are expected to wed them. After all these years of them bullying you, tormenting you, how could it possibly change?

Romance: bully romance, arranged marriage

Kai/ Kara: (m/f): your childhood best friend. Your guard. The one meant to protect you. They were once an orphan, then found and employed by your father to keep you safe. They take their duty seriously, lest they get thrown out again.

Romance: bodyguard romance, forbidden

Raven/Rome: (m/f) your personal maid/butler, hailing from the servant family that has served yours for generations. They don't look you in the eye and don't dare speak. Some might find their overt politeness endearing.

This is my first interactive-fiction story and I hope you like it. Reblogs are always appreciated, thank you! :)

#interactive fiction #interact-if #interactive novel #choice script #cog #choice script game #interactive fiction wip #cog wip #interactive game #choice of games #choice of games wip #work in progress #writing #interactive story

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fragileheartbeats · 1 month

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Do a male Rhaenyra x sis reader x male version of your oc Selaehra

THE THREE HEAD DRAGON

꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑅ℎ𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑥 𝑆𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑆𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑛 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 ☆ 𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒓 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏

Rhaynar is proud and fiery, embodies the spirit of House Targaryen with his unmatched valor and stubbornness. His skills in combat are only matched by his fierce protectiveness over those he loves. Yet, beneath this warrior's exterior lies a heart that yearns for the affection and approval of the only family he has known. His jealousy over his sister's attention towards Selarion is not merely a reflection of sibling rivalry but a fear of losing one of the few constants in his life: her companionship and support.

Rhaynar, with his long, straight silver-gray hair that falls like a curtain of moonlight down his back, stands tall and proud among the crowd. His eyes, a deep and mesmerizing purple, scan the room with an intensity that speaks of power and a fierce protectiveness. Clad in a doublet of dark red that complements his noble stature, he moves with a grace that belies his warrior's strength, each step a testament to his claim to the throne and to the heart of the one he loves.

He wears his heart like a badge of honor, fierce and unguarded. His affection is as intense as his spirit, expressed in grand gestures and bold declarations. His hugs are enveloping, a sanctuary of strength and warmth, often lifting Y/n off her feet in moments of spontaneous joy or comfort. He is not one to shy away from public displays of affection, seeing them as a declaration of his claim and devotion. Rhaynar's kisses are fiery, mirroring his passionate nature, often sought in the heat of the moment, leaving her breathless and wanting. Yet, beneath this stormy exterior lies a sensitivity; he cherishes the softness of kisses on his forehead, seeing them as acts of pure love and acceptance. His jealousy, a fierce flame, can lead to impulsive actions, driven by the fear of losing his love to his brother. However, his anger, though quick to ignite, is equally quick to dissipate, especially in the face of his sister gentle reassurances.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 ☆ 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏

Selarion on the other hand, arrives at the Red Keep carrying the weight of his mother's death and the burden of his unique heritage. His red eyes, a rarity among humans, mark him as an outsider from the beginning. Yet, it is this very difference that captures Y/n's fascination and sympathy. Over time, as he teaches her Valyrian, a language not just of words but of their shared history and blood, Selarion begins to see in his half sister a kindred spirit, someone who looks beyond the surface to the person he is inside.

Selarion, is the embodiment of the sun's last light, his short but lustrous silver-golden hair catching the candlelight and setting him aglow. His shining ruby eyes sparkle with mischief and intelligence, a striking reminder of the dragon's fire that courses through his veins. Dressed in a simple yet elegant tunic of soft gray, edged with silver, he stands slightly apart from the throng, his gaze fixed on his sister, the object of his affections and the catalyst for his rivalry with Rhaynar.

in contrast, is the whisper to Rhaynar's roar, his affections conveyed through subtle glances and the soft brush of fingertips against skin. His hugs are rare but meaningful, a tight embrace that speaks volumes of his deep feelings, often shared in private moments where he allows his guard to drop. Selarion's approach to love is thoughtful, every gesture and word carefully chosen to convey his affection without overwhelming. His kisses are tender, a delicate touch that promises more, often placed on his sister's palms or wrists as a sign of reverence and deep affection. Selarion prefers kisses that linger on his neck, seeing them as an intimate exchange of trust and desire. His jealousy is a silent storm, manifesting in a cool distance and sharp words, yet he never lets it cloud his judgment or actions for long. Selarion treasures every detail about his sister, from her laughter to the way her eyes light up at the sight of the night sky, storing these memories like precious jewels.

Y/n, younger than both and thrust into their world, finds herself drawn to each brother for different reasons. In Rhaynar, she sees the strength and passion of her house, a mirror to her own fiery spirit. In Selarion, she finds a depth and complexity, a shared sense of being different in a world that values conformity. Her heart is torn between the two, each holding a piece of her soul in their hands.

As the years pass, the rivalry between Rhaynar and Selarion intensifies, both in their quest for the Iron Throne and their affection for their sister. Their battles, once confined to the training yards, spill over into the court, a dangerous game of power and persuasion. Rhaynar, ever the warrior, tries to win his sister's heart through acts of valor and demonstrations of his prowess, hoping to show her that he can protect and provide for her in a chaotic world.

Selarion, meanwhile, employs a subtler strategy. His gifts are not swords or shields but whispered words and shared secrets. He listens to her, understands her dreams and fears, and in doing so, offers her a partnership of equals. His charm and intelligence serve him well, presenting a vision of a future where they might rule side by side, not just as king and queen but as true companions.

Their expressions of love, though differing in intensity and manner, are equally profound, each brother seeking to carve a place in the Y/n's heart. Rhaynar's love is a tempest, demanding and all-consuming, while Selarion's affection is a river, deep and enduring. Their first kisses with their sister are emblematic of their approaches to love: Rhaynar's, a spontaneous act of passion, and Selarion's, a gentle confession in the quiet of the night.

The rivalry between them is as much a part of their love as their shared history. It drives them to greater heights of affection and acts of devotion, each brother striving to be the one who holds the Y/n's heart. Yet, it is also this rivalry that sharpens the fear of loss, the dread that one might be chosen over the other.

As the music begins, a soft, haunting melody that fills the air with a sense of longing and possibility, Selarion sees his opportunity. With a confident stride, he approaches his sister, his gaze never wavering from hers. "May I have this dance, my beautiful lady?" he asks, his voice low and inviting, a smile playing on his lips that promises secrets and adventures untold.

Before she can respond, Rhaynar steps forward, his hand extended, his expression a mixture of challenge and desire. "I believe my sister was about to accept my invitation," he says, turning his gaze sharply towards Selarion, the tension between them palpable.

Selarion's smile widens, but his eyes harden, the ruby depths gleaming with an inner fire. "Ah, dear brother, always so quick to assume," he retorts, his tone light but edged with steel. "But it seems you've forgotten that it is her choice to make, not ours."

Y/n, caught between them, feels the weight of their stares, the air charged with the intensity of their rivalry. Yet, in this moment, she finds her voice, her strength. "I choose to dance with both of you," she declares, her voice steady and clear. "One after the other. That is my decision."

Rhaynar's expression softens, a grudging respect in his gaze as he nods, stepping back to allow Selarion the first dance. Selarion, triumphant yet gracious, offers his hand to his sister, leading her onto the dance floor with a flourish.

As they dance, Selarion's movements are smooth and calculated, each step a whisper of his affections, his body close yet respectful. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his breath warm against her ear. "As if the gods created you to be worshipped by mortals."

Her heart flutters at his words, at the feel of him so near. Yet, as the music swells and their time together draws to a close, she knows that this is but the beginning of their dance, a dance that will require all her strength and wisdom to navigate.

When the music ends, and Selarion steps back with a bow, Rhaynar takes his place, his dance a contrast of passion and power, a promise of his undying affection and his determination to win her heart.

As the night unfolds, with each brother vying for her favor, she realizes that her heart is not a prize to be won but a gift to be given. And in the end, it will be her choice, a choice made not in the shadow of rivalry but in the light of love.

𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦:

In the heart of a forest as ancient as the realm itself, where the whispers of the old gods still lingered among the rustling leaves, the hunting party moved with a grace that belied their noble birth. Rhaynar and Selarion, scions of House Targaryen, rode side by side, their rivalry momentarily forgotten in the shared thrill of the hunt. The morning mist clung to the earth, weaving a silvery veil that shrouded the woods in mystery and magic.

Rhaynar, with the sun's first rays glinting off his silver hair, seemed as much a creature of the dawn as the woodland around them. His eyes, a striking violet, scanned the forest with an intensity that spoke of a fierce desire to prove himself, not just as a hunter but as a man worthy of respect and, perhaps, love.

Selarion, ever the enigma, rode with an elegance that was almost otherworldly. His ruby-red eyes, so often regarded with suspicion and fear, were alight with a different flame today—a competitive spark that matched his brother's. Their horses, magnificent beasts of pure Targaryen stock, moved with a silent understanding, as if they too sensed the importance of this day.

As the forest awakened, a white stag, majestic and ethereal, appeared before them. It stood in a clearing, bathed in a shaft of sunlight that seemed to crown it in a halo of gold. The sight of it took their breath away, for it was said that to encounter such a creature was a portent of momentous change.

Rhaynar's hand went to his bow, a reflex born of countless hunts, but something stilled his movement. The stag, with eyes as deep and knowing as the oldest tales, held his gaze, and in that moment, Rhaynar felt a connection to the world around him that was as profound as it was inexplicable. With a silent nod, as if acknowledging the stag's sovereignty over this realm, Rhaynar lowered his weapon.

Selarion, watching from a slight distance, observed his brother's action with a complexity of emotions swirling in his eyes. For a heartbeat, he too was caught in the stag's mystical presence. Yet, where Rhaynar saw a connection, Selarion saw opportunity. With a swift, fluid motion, he notched an arrow to his bow, drew, and released.

The arrow flew true, a perfect arc through the misty air, striking the stag with a silent, deadly grace. As the creature fell, the spell of the morning was broken, and the forest seemed to sigh with a sorrow as ancient as time itself. And then Selarion moved and cut it's head to make it's death less painful.

Rhaynar turned to Selarion, his eyes ablaze not just with the fire of anger, but with the hurt of betrayal. "Why did you kill it???" His voice, thick with emotion, echoed through the trees. "I was the first to find it, and I spared it! You had no right to kill it After I, the future king of seven kingdoms let it go!!!"

Selarion, wiping a splatter of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, met his brother's gaze with a calm that belied the tumult within. "Exactly, dear brother," he said, his voice low and steady, yet carrying a sharpness that cut deeper than any blade. "You had the opportunity, but you didn't use it. The world is like that. Either you get what you want, or someone else gets it instead of you. And you may forget it but you're no king in my eyes, not now and not ever."

As the words hung in the air, heavy with implication, the brothers stood on the brink of an understanding profound and unsettling. The hunting party, silent witnesses to this moment of raw truth, looked on as the future of House Targaryen, and perhaps the realm itself, teetered on the edge of a knife.

In the heart of the forest, amidst the ancient trees and whispered secrets, Rhaynar and Selarion faced not just each other, but the realization that the hunt was for more than game—it was for power, for love, and for the destiny that awaited them beyond the woods.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

@emily2003alzaga @nash-dara @altaircc @heavenly1927 @omgsuperstarg @asoiafhyperfixation

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graceshouldwrite · 6 months

Text

How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)

POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?

For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.

It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)

...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)

...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).

Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:

1. Read + Research

Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.

History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:

Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.

48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!

The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families

Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.

The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.

Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.

Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.

Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...

A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.

2. Plan. Like, meticulously

First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.

Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.

Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.

A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.

However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.

3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue

The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).

But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.

4. Explore through a narrow lens

Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.

You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.

However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)

I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.

Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.

Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)

Happy writing, and have a great day!

- grace <3

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xxanaduwrites · 21 days

Text

much ado about nothing, major

i. bubbles & battle scars

gif creds @sakuragifs !

pairing: john “bucky” egan x (ofc) maude “blue” bluell

warnings: this story will contain mature themes, descriptions of injury, blood, sexual content, swearing, as well as, physical and mental illness. proceed with caution.

— i: mentions of injury, death, & puking. (pretty much just maude, bubbles, & croz being a dynamic trio, total bestie vibes — & then there’s john. he’s just there haha)

word count: 3.4k

there must be something or nothing at all

July 24, 1943 was the date — a date marked in the history books as the start of the Hamburg attacks, and in the journal of Nurse Maude Bluell, an inclusion of her very first introduction to one Major John Egan.

It was just past 0900 hours when the doors swung open to the infirmary rather unexpectedly. Bluell was organizing a new shipment of supplies, placing gauze, bandages, and wraps alike in their respective places, Lottie wa re-evaluating the health passes for the men who were flying today — confirming that they has passed inspection so to speak, and Q — well Q was reading newspaper cutouts of her favorite gossip columns, courtesy of her girlfriends back home. A red cherry sucker laid limply in her mouth as she took in the recent excepades of the Hollywood starlets she fawned over.

For Q, it was better for her to dive her nose into the latest gossip than worry about a certain Lieutenant she had tethered a liking too. A certain Lieutenant Curtis Biddick — "Curt" for short — who was scheduled to fly today. Q would deny the prospect of liking the New Yorker with the heavy accent, but it wasn't deniable to Lottie and Maude who had seen the Lieutenant saunter in every morning just to talk to her at the nurse's station. He used the need for a sucker to subside his "apparent" drops in blood sugar as his excuse of choice.

Lottie reprimanded her every time, claiming that they were only for the patients, not for the healthy airmen — hiding the sugary sweet lollipops from her colleague.

But, Lottie's attempts proved to be fruitless as Q would find them at every turn in every single hiding spot, opening a sucker of her own just to push Lottie's buttons.

And, she was doing that just now — not just to bother the blonde, but to also hold some sort of reminder of Biddick, that he was here with her as much as she was there with him — the cherry red sucker that mirrored the very same shade of her hair — tucked safely in the pocket of his flight uniform for a victory treat.

Alas — in other words — there wasn't much to do until their men came flooding back in waves.

Until there was.

The sound of a door swinging open broke the dead silence that pervaded the medical unit. The three women immediately dropped everything they were doing once they saw the sight of Colonel Harding sauntering in with Lieutenant Payne following suit — under the haven of a thick blanket, accompanied by the the arm of one of his fellow airmen.

Or well — Maude and Lottie did.

Susan was trying to consume the last line of the article in front of her as fast as she could. She didn't want to be left wondering what Bettie Davis was doing nowadays in the middle of assessing what was to come.

Lottie, being under the wing of Doctor Stover longer than the two nurses beside her, did not hesitate to meet Harding half way. "Good morning, Colonel'' she greeted, pressing her clip board of names close to her chest as a means of suppressing the shock of it all. It was rather unusual to see any of the airmen, let alone the Colonel until the conclusion of a mission, especially when every health pass had been confirmed and processed.

"Morning. Ladies," Harding replied to the three nurses present respectfully as he always did, curt, and to the point. "Lieutenant Payne is coming down with something and will no longer be navigating today's mission," he explained. "You ladies mind checking up on him?"

"Oh not at all, sir!" Lottie chirped, setting her clipboard down and immediately swinging into action. She nodded over at her colleagues, urging them to take the clearly pale and ill Lieutenant from the hold of the corporal present.

It didn't take long for Bluell and Q to get the Lieutenant situated and comfortable in a bed with brand new sheets — pressed and floral scented. Maude felt lucky and rather grateful that they had completed that task in time for such a situation to occur. Q was still quite busy with her cherry sucker while simultaneously taking the man's blood pressure, so Bluell decided to do the evaluating — not that she minded anyways. It was refreshing to see a man in front of her who wasn't bleeding out and barely coherent. She could already tell without really knowing that Payne would be just fine. That she wouldn't be losing another one of their men just yet, and that made the weight in her chest subside with the sweetest relief.

"Lieutenant Payne," Maude enunciated carefully, smiling fondly at the poor man in front of her. It was obvious from the sight in front of her that illness had racked his bones. The color was draining from his skin, a dull gray taking over, a line of sweat was creasing his brow, and his eyes drooped heavily doused with a glossy sheen. "Please, if you could tell me what seems to be going on. How are you feeling?"

"Well, quite shitty," he laughed dryly, yet a smile still managed to grace his features and prove to be rather contagious to Maude's expression in seconds flat. "I was fine. I mean, I thought I was. 'Twas until I was propped up ready to fly, feeling like I could hurl if I even moved a muscle. Major Egan shut that down real quick though. Got me a sub with Croz."

And there it was, a title attached to the name of a man Maude Bluell would have scorched into the back of her mind soon enough. Yet, now – now in that very moment, her unfamiliarity with that very same man would simply fly over her head. Instead, she would find a tying point to her patient in the traces of his explanation, one that made her eyes light up in genuine interest. "Lieutenant Crosby?" She asked while dropping the back of her hand to Payne's forehead, inspecting the extent of his temperature."

"Yuh-huh," he nodded

At the same time as Q announced "one-nineteen over seventy," but it really sounded like, "nun-eye-dee ova even-yee," with that sucker still tucked dedicatedly in her mouth.

Maude's hand dropped from Payne's forehead then, seeming pleased to know that he wasn't burning up as bad as she expected – definitely warm but more mildly speaking – and his blood pressure was relatively normal. The wheels were already turning in her head, coming to the conclusion that he merely had some sort of bug. But, she couldn't really come to one until Doctor Stover came to access the man himself.

"Lemme guess," Payne began, getting Maude's attention after she instructed Q to get the Lieutenant a glass of water. If she got his prognosis right, he would need to remain hydrated to subside the urge to vomit. "He's here quite often ain't –" Payne's words seemed to lodge in his throat then, his features twisting just the same.

The clear indication of his illness brought Nurse Bluell to flight mode and she picked up the bucket adjacent to his bed in mere seconds. "Let it out, Lieutenant," she urged as she situated it on his lap just in time for him to spill out the contents into the bin instead of his bed. He did just that, and Bluell did not hesitate to keep the bucket steady and rub his back in a soothing motion, hoping to ease the strain in his back from achy muscles.

Once he was done, he slumped back against the headboard – his eyes appearing glossier than they had before. He was spent, but that did not stop him from mumbling out his appreciation. "Thank you Nurse – Nurse?" He trailed off, a crease forming on his sweaty forehead with a curious sort of confusion.

"Bluell. Nurse Bluell," she introduced herself, moving the bucket off the bed, tying up the old one, and replacing it with a brand new one. "But you can just call me Maude."

"Maude. The powerful battler," a droopy smile spanned across his face, recalling the meaning behind the name of the nurse in front of him.

"Yes, but –" her cheeks dusted pink, and she looked away from him as she got rid of the previous trash close by. "Not me. All you – All you boys."

"Doubt that." Q brought over the water then and he thanked her kindly before taking a gentle sip. "Call me Bubbles."

"Pardon, Lieutenant?" Bluell stood straight then, completely taken aback by his sudden admission. She took a deep breath and sucked back the urge to laugh.

It wasn't uncommon by any means for nicknames to be a staple pass of courtesy and comradely around base. It served as an attempt to distinguish the tension of a deeply set reality and also comouflague identity to foreign forces. Like Charolette and Susan who replied to Lottie and Susie Q or just plain old Q. It was common knowledge. And she had found herself giving into such knowledge as she adjusted to the shortened form of her surname — replying to Blue more often than not. But, Bubbles. Bubbles? She hadn't heard something quite like that before.

"Bubbles. That's what they call me. Ain't heroic by any means. You can ask Croz the next time he's here, 'M sure he'll tell yuh," he elaborated.

A chuckle escaped her then, a genuine smile enveloping in her cheeks in a way that almost felt foreign. She couldn't remember the last time she smiled – really smiled since she'd arrived on base. "Quite heroic to me,." She flattened her hands across the edges of the mattress, making sure he was tucked into the sheets comfortably and then she fluffed up the back of his pillow for me good measure. "Should rest up now, Lieutenant. I'll be here if you need anything. Please don't hesitate to call us over," She affirmed, and in a sudden newfound sense of confidence or maybe it was simply just the comradery, she found herself adding, "that's an order, Bubbles."

Bubbles – still poorly, shivering, and pale as a ghost – managed a light laugh from his strained throat as Maude left the man be. "You got it, Maude"

Maude's spirits appeared to be more pleasant than usual as she busied herself in the next coming hours. Her conversation with Lieutenant Payne – or Bubbles if you will – subsided the nerves that usually rattled her in deep anticipation of what was to come. However, knowing that Lieutenant Crosby was navigating today still kept her worried.

Would his stomach be okay?

Would the natural herbs she recommended to brew in his tea ease him?

Those thoughts did not fail to plague her mind throughout the day, but she was grateful to have some distraction in the task of caring for Bubbles. She made sure to keep an eye on him as much as she could, so much so, that it started to concern Nurse Charlotte Reign and Susan Quinn who felt as if previous patterns from the young nurse were resurfacing. Patterns that were brought into light the very same day an airmen died in her arms for the very first time.

Yet, Maude felt fine – well, as fine as one could be in the circumstances placed upon her. She felt like she could breathe again the moment the boys returned from the Trondheim mission in the later afternoon. It had proved to be successful – and even more so in the hands of one Lieutenant Crosby who was currently at Bubble's bedside. With a chair situated over, he not only came to check on his best friend, but also report on the mission.

Maude was finishing up wrapping a flier's burn wounds adjacent to Lieutenant Payne when she unintentionally overheard the conversation at hand. "I mean the flak, it came in so hot. I didn't even think about it when I put it on. It – It must of froze, but then these chunks, they start rolling down my forehead, I think 'holy mackerel crosby, holy mackerel, you've been hit!"

"Of course you would narrate your own death." Bubbles laughed lightly at his friend's retelling.

She secured the wrap tightly and comfortably and practically repeated the earlier lines she had said to Bubbles. She was starting to become more and more accustomed to her script, finding it more and more natural as she annunciated each word within passing days.

"Well, I mean I could make overthinking into an Olympic sport." Lieutenant Crosby joked just as Maude appeared at Bubbles bedside. She smiled at the two men, acknowledging them as she refilled Payne's water cup without interrupting their conversation.

"I've been puking so much today, I'm starting to catch up to you. Ask Maude." He nodded to the nurse next to them.

"Evening Maude." Crosby greeted the nurse. "Hope Bubbles here ain't giving you too much flak.”

"No more than you have." She just about pulled the man's chain with that one, making Bubbles erupt in laughter.

"Hey, 'snot my fault, Nurse." Crosby held a hand to his chest as if she had wounded him with his words, but the knowing smirk on his face proved otherwise.

"Did you try the tea?" She asked Croz, handing the cup of water over to Bubbles. His color was starting to come back. He looked better than this morning but he still needed to stay hydrated if he was gonna get back in the skies anytime soon.

"Nah. Next time when I actually know I'm flying I will," he sent a look over to Bubbles, only pushing his friend's buttons for fun. "Thanks Bubbles."

"Anytime." He said laughing against the rim of his cup. He took one last sip before Maude placed it back on the side table for him.

It seemed like Croz wasn't gonna let that one slide so easily. "You know I washed my hair twice, I still can't get the smell out." He leaned over his friend, practically shoving his hair in the fellow Lieutenant's face."You wanna smell? Yeah, jump in."

"No. No!" Bubbles tensed up then.

"Yeah, Come on." Croz pushed on.

Maude couldn't help but laugh at the playful side of these men. Men who still managed to let their inner kid shine through all the horror and terror they had ensued in the skies.

"Get – get away. I will puke on you! Yuh gonna have to wash it out." Bubbles threatened, trying to push Croz away.

And then like a burst of unexpected flax, everything shifted.

For not only Croz who immediately stiffened back in his seat – putting on a serious and professional front, but for Maude who – for lack of her own sense of understanding – found herself freezing just the same, but for a whole other reason.

"There he is," a deep, firm, yet some-what carefree voice broke the ice within her. And there he was, one Major Egan looking and sounding like one of those Hollywood starlets in Q's paper clipping — just stepping out of a film in the cinema. And if he hadn't had a small cut just under his right eye, he could have passed as a man who hadn't just returned from an intense mission across the skies. Clean cut, pressed in his uniform, curls styled and gelled back to perfection, with his flight jacket wrapped around his arms. Arms that held a strong hand planted against the edge of the foot of Bubbles bed. "How you doing Bubbles?" He asked.

Maude hadn't realized she was staring at the six foot two bulk of a man in front of her until Bubbles spoke up. "Never better, sir."

"That's good." And then his eyes landed on her, so intense, she suddenly wondered if he had become even taller than he was a minute ago. Feeling caught, she looked away and busied herself with the water cup on Bubbles nightstand to give herself something to do. Would the Major report back to Doctor Stover that she was incompetent and unfit to take care of his men? Lucky for Maude, his gaze broke away from hers the moment she turned around. "And I was looking for you," He said to Croz.

The chair beneath Croz creaked in protest as he stood up to be at the Major's level. "I'm sorry, Major."

"What for?" Major Egan inquired loosely.

"I – I didn't give PRs the whole flight back, I messed up the rendezvous – "

"I know. I know. The radio silence really threw off those Jerries. It's that and hitting the deck." Egan affirmed. With the conversation becoming more detailed, Maude felt out of place and rather rude for overhearing. Yet, the next words that came out of the Major's mouth not only took Croz and Bubbles by surprise, but Maude too. Any previous contemplations seemed to dissipate the moment Egan said, “Now, Harding, he couldn't be more impressed by you so, I'm transferring you to Blakely's crew full time," and then, " Bubbles, you get better, we'll find you a new fort. And Croz, we gotta give you an actual nickname."

"They call him Bing back home." Bubbles added into the conversation just as Maude urged him to take another sip. "More?" He asked, and she simply nodded as she turned back into her previous position– her view of all three men near her resurfacing.

"Bing Crosby? That's just lazy, unless you can sing." Major Egan put in his two cents, and his eyes gleamed when he asked, "Can you sing?"

"I–I ca –" Croz tethered.

"Like a donkey." Bubbles confirmed with zero ounces of hesitation, truly on a roll at deflating Croz's ego today without letting an ounce of illness ruin the fun.

"No, no – not a note, sir."

"Ah, I'm no good either, but I'm loud and hell if you can commit with enough enthusiasm, it really don't matter." And this was when Maude would come to learn of the singing shenanigans that came with one Major Egan. If only she knew then that those shenanigans would very well start up something alright.

The shorter Lieutenant and the taller Major clapped hands then in parting – a shake of sealed establishments and confirmations, proving that they were on the same page. "I'll see you at the Club Croz. I'm buying," the one with height told him, referring to the same exact club Lottie and Q would be dragging Bluell against her will in just a few short hours. "Goodnight Bubbles."

"Sir."He croaked between sips and finally handed the cup back to Maude for good.

"Goodnight, sir." Croz bid farewell. When the Major was out of earshot could Maude breathe, and Croz seemed to be too because he was back to bantering as he commented, "He thinks my nickname is lazy."

Another patient called her over then, stealing her away from the two men she had found herself laughing along with, yet a part of her felt grateful for the sudden diversion – especially now, after the Major's interruption. She couldn't explain it – couldn't even compartmentalize it exactly, but something had shifted inside her the moment he had stepped foot into the infirmary. An instinctive feeling of sorts — awfully hard to pinpoint. It hurt her head too much trying to think about it, so much so, she momentarily wondered if she was coming down with the same exact virus as Bubbles.

She wasn't.

But, she knew it was something, but what was it?

That — she didn't know.

Yet, something deep inside her – against her better judgment – told her that she needed to know. So as Croz passed by and bid her a farewell of his own, she knew what she had to do. And when the girls pitched going out to the Club again tonight, practically begging her in their shared quarters — Lottie using Q's obvious need for a distraction with Curt's lack of a return — did she give into their demise.

Was there really much ado about one night on the town?

Lottie and Q wouldn't think so, and Major Egan – well he wouldn't think so either.

the way in which she is already whipped without "knowing" is so real.

+ Q — curt and susie got me giggling & kicking my feeties !!!

also, for important context purposes, the gifs in the beginning is how i imagine bucky diverting his gaze from eyeing miss. maude ;) sir, we all know you were LOOKING — respectfully!

p.s.: i love bubbles & croz so bad, ugh my HEART <3

ANYWAYS.....

more to come sooner than you think. lemme know what ya think so far? feedback is much appreciated as this is BRAND NEW. this is also my very FIRST historical-esce fic so my apologies if there is any inaccuracies, but it do be my own fiction twist anyways haha.

love ya'll a mil, smoochies!

— xanadu

tag list:

@rubberpsyche

@precious-little-scoundrel

@major-mads

@luminouslywriting

@justheretoreadthxxs

@karmasloverrr

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astoundingbeyondbelief · 2 months

Text

Deleted/altered Monsterverse scenes in Godzilla & Kong: The Cinematic Storyboard Art of Richard Bennett

Kong: Skull Island

There's a longer opening sequence, with Marlowe discovering Gunpei's camp instead of them both crashing at around the same time.

Conrad stows away on the expedition instead of being hired as a tracker

Weaver and Conrad meet at a Philadelphia train station (no clue what the context was).

Kong swings around a helicopter while the gunner is still firing and the bullets hit another helicopter, which I think is the closest he's ever come to using a gun.

Packard's group watches Kong fight the Mire Squid instead of Chapman.

Very different take on the Iwi village, with smaller lost ships/planes incorporated into the architecture.

The big one: Conrad flashes back to an encounter with King Ghidorah in Vietnam. The three-headed monster's silhouette is basically just the Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah version, but he has at least five prehensile tails he uses to snatch up soldiers.

Conrad and Weaver are tied to a tree during the napalm plot against Kong. Another character sets them free and they go wild on a few soldiers, with Weaver hitting one on the head with a rock. The Skull Devil emerges in a separate scene.

Kong uses a plane wing as a weapon in the final fight.

The Skull Devil has a grappling tail similar to that of Otachi in Pacific Rim.

The Iwi fight Conrad's group (I think) as the Gray Fox is lowered down a waterfall with a pulley system and something ambushes Kong in the background. This one was especially hard to make any sense of without dialogue.

Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Jonah spies on Emma and Madison as they drive to Mothra's temple.

The video montage in the Senate hearing is done via hologram. A mushroom cloud is displayed while Serizawa argues with a senator.

Mark bows to a wolf that approaches him in a nice bit of foreshadowing.

Mothra arrives in Boston alongside Godzilla instead of turning up later.

Godzilla vs. Kong

In an alternate opening, the Iwi retell the history between Godzilla and Kong's species using highly-elaborate puppets. There's a horned character loaded with weapons who briefly traps Godzilla in a cage and transforms into a Rodan-like figure. An ancient mecha?

Text mentions that "the Pensacola/Florida Godzilla attack scene was going to be much longer, involving a mall stampede.

A massive explosion takes place on Skull Island (I believe coming from the Vile Vortex there).

Jia is first shown signing with Kong just before the fleet engages Godzilla.

In true kaiju kid fashion, Jia messes with the controls of the ship to set Kong loose.

Nathan discovers his brother's crash site in the Hollow Earth and gets into a fight with several guards. This scene was definitely filmed.

Bernie was at one point a woman (drawn with ultra-short hair, although in general the human characters in these storyboards bear little resemblance to their screen counterparts).

Kong finds a skeleton of another member of his species sitting on the throne. He breaks off the skull, stares at it, and throws it aside.

Group troops engage Godzilla and Kong during their Hong Kong fight; neither even notices.

Mechagodzilla coils into a semi-sphere to deflect Godzilla's atomic breath.

Echoing his fight with Kong, Godzilla tries to outrun Mechagodzilla's Proton Scream through the streets of Hong Kong.

#godzilla king of the monsters 2019 #kong skull island #godzilla vs. kong #godzilla #king kong #skullcrawler #mothra #king ghidorah #mechagodzilla #kaiju #behind the scenes

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blouisparadise · 3 months

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Upon request, today we have a Valentine's Day fic rec list! All of these fics involve Valentine's Day in some way or have a Valentine's Day vibe. We had a very short version of this rec list that we posted many years ago, but as you can see, there have been a ton of amazing Valentine's Day-related fics posted since then. Happy reading!

1) The Valentine's Day Special | Explicit | 1,322 words

Every year on Valentine's Day Harry and Louis spend the whole day participating in whatever kinks they want. This means February 14th is one of their favorite days of the year.

2) Valentine's Day | Explicit | 1,900 words

Louis and Harry are excited for Valentine's Day and can barely make it back to the hotel room.

3) All The Love | Explicit | 2,118 words

Harry smiles warmly when he sees the room with the makeshift dining table, coffee mugs for wine glasses, and a couple lit scented candles scattered across the room. He fills an empty glass and places the flowers in it, setting it on Louis’s bedside table. His smile grows even more fond when he sits across from Louis, seeing the meal his boy has prepared. They’ve only been officially dating for about a month and a half, but things couldn’t be going any better. “What’s this?” Harry asks, nodding in the direction of the dishes in front of him. “Chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in Parma ham with a side of mash,” Louis says full of pride. “My little chef,” the curly haired boy grins, leaning over the table to press a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek before taking a bite. “This is really good baby.”

4) Red Pants | Mature | 2,463 words

One shot in which fem Louis wears his tight little red pants to school on Valentine’s Day, and discovers he has a secret admirer.

5) Love Me Like You Do | Not Rated | 3,964 words

Louis is all in if Harry is, and Paris seems like the perfect place to ask

6) Lagrangian Point | Explicit | 4,055 words

They find each other again the night of Valentine's Day.

7) I've Loved You Three Summers Now Honey, But I Want 'Em All | Mature | 4,216 words

The restaurant was small and bright, soft colors filled the walls and tables and fairy lights hung from everywhere. From what Harry had read, the food wasn’t overly expensive but it was still comparable to what you would get at one of the more expensive places. If Harry could he would take Louis to the biggest most expensive and extravagant restaurants to do what he planned to tonight, but this would do. After being led to their table Harry nervously tapped his jacket pocket, sighing in relief when he felt the small box still there. Tonight was the night. He couldn’t wait till it was time to surprise Louis with all the gifts he got for him. Then finally the big surprise.

8) Reckless Serenade | Explicit | 4,446 words

Note: This fic features Girl Direction.

Harry's Google search history may or may not look like 'my girlfriend doesn't know we're dating.'

9) Dancing In The Moonlight | Explicit | 4,587 words

Louis’ fuck buddy gets a date for Valentine’s day and he discovers that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

10) Keep Your Head Down And Make It To Me | Not Rated | 4,643 words

“You know, if I hadn’t been so stupid 8 years ago, we could’ve been doing this for 8 long years. My sincere apologies,” “Maybe, but now I get to enjoy this moment even more because it’s been 8 years and I’ve never stopped wanting to kiss you ever since,” Louis admits, a light blush surfacing upon his face. “I love you,” Harry repeats. Louis beams at him. Literally beams. “I love you, Harry.”

11) Cherries In The Snow | Mature | 5,151 words

It’s Valentine’s Day, and Harry is not in the mood. So naturally, Louis lets Harry paint his body with kiss marks to make him feel better.

12) Be Mine, Little Valentine | Explicit | 7,435 words

All Louis wants is to find someone who’ll love all of him. There’s just one tiny complication.

13) Indecent Proposal | Explicit | 8,445 words

The one where Louis and Harry reminisce the ups and downs of a relationship that once was, imagining themselves as the happy couple celebrating in front of them, and decide that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too bad to relive their relationship one more time.

14) Let Me Be Your Good Night | Explicit | 10,517 words

Cupping one hand over his fist and holding them to his chest, Harry’s nose scrunches hopefully, “Would you want to get a drink before calling it a night?” Louis stares at him. “I know you’re probably tired, it’s just—” Harry sighs, wiggling his hands around nervously. “We’re both going to be alone after this and I really enjoyed talking to you, so maybe this is a little pathetic, but I could use the company?” “I, uh,” he stalls, weighing his options: either go home, have a wank, then bathe the night off, or talk more with the affable sweetheart while sharing a drink or two. Easy. “I’d like that. Sure.”

15) Better Than Words | Explicit | 11,321 words

Note: This fic is the second part of a series.

Harry and Louis have an argument while at the doctors to check on their baby. Then they celebrate Harry’s birthday and Valentine’s Day in their own way.

16) Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice | Mature | 13,487 words

You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.” Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing. “You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

17) Lead Me To Paradise | Explicit | 14,615 words

No one told Harry that a paramedic could be this pretty.

18) James The Pimp | Mature | 28,255 words

Everybody, please welcome my other good mate and Harry Styles’ Valentine Date, Louis Tomlinson!” 'Kill My Mind' played as the dusty-haired singer walked onto stage from the opposite side that Harry entered. “Thanks for having me, James.” Louis’ light voice carried well as he hugged James. With the grin still plastered to his cheeks, he looked around the bulkier man at Harry politely. “But, uh, I’m a tad bit confused. As lovely as Harry here is, you should probably both know I’m, er, into women.” There was a hint of awkward hesitation in his words. He likely thought Harry wasn’t straight and didn’t want to offend him, which Harry appreciated, even if he knew he had to say his next line despite it being utterly untrue. “The same goes to you, Louis, but I am as well.” James waved a hand flippantly. “Pish posh. Who really cares about that anyhow? Come along, boys. This is my show, so if I say you are each other’s Valentines, then you are each other’s Valentines. Now act like it!”

19) Cupid’s Chokehold | Explicit | 35,326 words

Louis is a Cupid who tries to match up Niall and Harry. It doesn’t work out as planned.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp fic recs #blp #valentine's day

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shmaptainwrites · 3 months

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𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐘]

PAIRINGS — Mark Darcy x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Mark and Reader meet on a dock in Greece and the rest is history

WARNINGS — difficulty conceiving, pregnancy, allusions to sex

NOTE — Okay the beginning and end of this are definietly Mamma Mia-esque but TRUST ME it fits the vibessss- anyways I hope you guys like it :3 Also a big thanks to @/mystic-writings for beta-ing!

Mark wondered what had brought him here that day. There he was sitting on a dock in Greece, reevaluating all of the decisions he had made in recent days. He found it very hard to stay hopeful when that very much could have been the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with on that boat, sailing towards an island he didn’t know the name of with a ferry that wouldn’t allow him to chase after her until two days later.

He was about to get up and turn around, find the nearest airport that would get him out of the sunny Mediterranean country, when he felt someone tap on his shoulder.

He squinted against the sun, trying to get a better look at who it was, but it wasn’t clear until you stepped in front of him.

“You miss the ferry?” you asked him and he nodded his head. “Shame,” you sighed and took a seat next to him. You introduced yourself and offered a hand for him to shake. He took it and introduced himself in return.

“I don’t suppose your travels have also been…” he chose his words carefully, “subpar?”

“Actually, they have,” you leaned back. “This was supposed to be some sort of girls trip.”

“And?”

“Well, you don’t see any girls around me do you,” you motioned to the empty dock.

“No I don’t suppose I do.”

You sat in silence for a moment, the sun beating down on both of your backs before you chose to speak again.

“Have you done much sight-seeing yet?”

“None. I just got here, and I think I’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow,” he admitted.

“Leave Greece without seeing even one sight? You’re an interesting man, Mark.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he sighed and pushed himself up off of the bench.

“You know,” you started, “If you change your mind and want to see some of the sights before heading back to wherever you’re from, come find me. My hotel’s that one over there,” you pointed to one of the buildings overlooking the water.

Mark nodded his head and wished you a good day before grabbing his bag and heading towards the main street, he’d call for a taxi and maybe his choice would be more clear to him the next morning. It was hard to think in the midday heat, because right now, for some peculiar reason, your offer seemed awfully enticing.

—

The next morning you awoke to a knock on your door. You checked the time, it was half past seven which was far too early for housekeeping.

With a confused look on your face, and a just-in-case large vase in hand and ready for whatever was on the other side, you approached the door. In a quick motion you unlocked the door and swung it open, the vase held as threateningly as you could until you realized that you recognized those eyes and that tall frame.

“Mark?”

“You said if I wanted to get in some sightseeing before I go I should come to your hotel. You didn’t tell me what room though. I made a few awkward mistakes before landing on your door.”

“What compelled you to do this at half past seven on a weekend?” you chuckled.

“I could ask the same about your vase. Not normally something you greet someone with at the door,” he commented.

“Just playing it safe,” you said, now lowering the vase and returning it to its place on the table. “Why don’t you give me two minutes to get dressed then I’ll properly invite you inside.”

Mark nodded his head and you quickly shut the door, rummaging through your suitcases until you found what you wanted to wear, changing into it and reopening the door and allowing Mark to come inside.

“So, what changed your mind?” you asked. “You seemed awfully set on leaving.”

“I thought maybe it was time I took a break. I can’t remember the last time I took a vacation,” he admitted. “And it crossed my mind that perhaps you were right.”

“About what?”

“It would be a shame to leave Greece without seeing at least one sight.”

You grabbed your bag and shoved a few things in it, looking back up at Mark.

“Then let’s find a sight, shall we?” you offered your arm to him and he took it as you exited the room together.

After you sorted out where you wanted to go you found yourselves on a hot overcrowded bus, trying to understand what the stops were and continuously looking at the map and your surroundings to determine where to get off.

“So Mark, where do you hail from? I’m guessing England, but whereabouts?” you asked, over the loud engine.

“London, currently,” he said. “And yourself?”

“Currently? Also London,” you said.

“But-,”

“I don’t sound British?” you looked over at him and he chuckled.

“Exactly,” he nodded.

“I’m there for work. I’m an art curator,” you explained. “Brits bring pretty good business.”

“That I can believe, and I think this is our stop,” he pointed.

“Oh goodness, HEY! HEY! Stop the bus!” you called and stood up, waving down the driver with your hat. He slammed on the brakes and you jerked forward, almost falling into the seats in front of you if it weren’t for Mark quickly grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back down into your seat. “Man, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Mark couldn’t help but give you a little smile as he helped you up from your seat and you exited the crowded bus as quickly as you could.

“Good grief,” you sighed. “I would have gone flying if it weren’t for you. Thanks, Mark.”

“Don’t mention it, all part of the Greek charm I suppose,” he shrugged as you began to walk down the quiet countryside street, looking for the entrance to the beach.

“What about yourself, what do you do for work?” you asked.

“I’m a lawyer,” he said. “Human rights type stuff mostly.”

“Oh so a true London hotshot then,” you chuckled. “Come on, I think it’s right down here,” you motioned to a small trail opening.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say hotshot,” he said.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m just teasing,” you said as you slipped on some loose gravel only to have Mark catch you again.

“You’re quite clumsy.”

“It’s a part of my charm,” you grinned.

From there you both silently decided maybe it would be best if you held on to Mark so as to not fall again, and you walked a short distance in comfortable silence until you came to the opening of the beach.

“Wow. Mark, this is really a sight,” you grabbed his arm and dragged him further so he could see the full view.

The cove was secluded and the pristine water gently lapped against the shore along the white sand.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I’m glad I stayed,” he said with a smile.

Still hand in hand, you found a comfortable spot in the sand and laid out a blanket you had packed to sit on for the time being.

“Do you have anyone waiting back home for you, Mark?”

“Not aside from my parents,” he shook his head. “And yourself?”

“Unattached currently,” you said while grabbing a water bottle from your bag. “My girlfriends would say this seems to have the making of a summer romance.”

Mark found himself curious to see if you thought so too. Certainly he thought that seeing Bridget go off into the sunset with someone else would be the end of his romantic life, but perhaps he was mistaken.

“Well, we’ll have to see if they’re right,” Mark said simply and you chuckled.

Spending time with Mark was easy. It was as if your friends hadn’t all bailed on you and this was your plan all along. The days quickly melted into one, then two, then three and it was an easy routine for Mark to join you at your hotel in the morning.

You were both too caught up in a whirlwind of tourism filled with adventures and flirting that you barely even noticed your departure date approaching.

“Has it already been ten days?” you sighed, leaning into Mark’s side as you sat along the beach just outside of your hotel.

“Went by a lot faster than I expected,” he admitted. “Feels like just yesterday I was so forwardly introduced to you.”

“Shut up, Mark. You’ve had a good time,” you laughed. “Now let’s do one more fun thing before we go back to the doom and gloom of London.”

“What do you have in mind?” he asked as you stood up and walked with him towards the water.

“Hmm, have you ever tried the opposite of skinny dipping?”

“Which is?” he frowned.

“This!” you exclaimed while pushing him into the water, fully clothed, but not before he grabbed onto your waist, pulling you down with him.

You squealed in surprise, falling on top of him in the shallow water.

“Did you really think you could get away with that?” Mark asked and you shook your head with a laugh.

“It was either this or you’d get up and chase me and throw me into the water.”

“We could do that too if you wanted,” he moved one of the wet strings of your top off of your cheek which it was currently stuck to.

“No, I think I kind of like it here,” you said with a whisper.

“Good, because then I can do this,” his thumb moved from your cheek to your chin, pinching it between that and his index finger and bringing your face closer to his before finally pressing his lips to yours.

You brought yourself as close as you could to him, your hands holding on to both sides of his face. You could feel the water’s crests and falls and tasted its salt on Mark’s lips.

When he gently moved away, giving you both a moment to breathe, he said, “I had to make sure I gave you a proper kiss goodbye.”

“Could I perhaps entice you to make that a regular occasion?” you asked.

Mark kissed you again, this time shorter before giving you a thinking face and then nodding his head.

You chuckled and grabbed his hand, standing up yourself first before pulling him up with you. He trailed behind you as you walked towards your things, pressing a kiss to your temple from behind, then your neck until neither of you could help it and turned around to kiss properly again.

“Why don’t you stay in my room tonight,” you murmured. “And maybe if we’re lucky the vacation will continue when we’re back in London. Any objections?”

“No, sustained,” he kissed you again and you giggled at his joke.

“Save something for the room, Mark,” you teased as you pulled away, “If we stay out here much longer we’ll be putting on a show for the tourists.”

“And?” he raised a mischievous brow.

“Mark!” you exclaimed with a surprised laugh, quickly grabbing your bag while he grabbed the blanket, shaking out the sand before grabbing your hand and heading back to the hotel, prepared for whatever this summer romance would bring.

—

A few months later…

“Mark! I’m here, are you home yet?” you called into the townhome as you stepped across the threshold, throwing your keys on the table and slipping off your coat.

There wasn’t an answer so you assumed he hadn’t arrived yet, but when you climbed up the stairs you saw him lying down on the couch with a pillow over his face.

You chuckled a little and quietly bent down and removed the pillow only to be met by a soft,

“Hey.”

“Last I remember, you asked me to come over after work,” you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his nose. “How was your day?”

“Exhausting, can’t you tell?”

“Yes, quite clearly,” you nodded as you sat on the edge of the couch. “So, did you miss me?”

“Dreadfully,” he nodded and beckoned you to come lay down with him. “How was work?”

“It was alright,” you sighed. “I think I’m getting tired of working for snooty rich folk. Maybe I need a change of scenery.”

Mark kissed your temple and you hummed,

“Or maybe I should stay like this all day.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” he teased.

“But alas, there’s work to be done. Come on, we have to make dinner,” you pushed yourself up and took Mark’s hand, helping him up and dragging him to the kitchen.

You had agreed earlier on what to make for dinner so you easily fell into a rhythm of preparing things together.

Even though the clouds were grey and it was perpetually raining in London, when you were with Mark, everywhere felt like Greece.

“Mark, how am I supposed to get any bloody work done when you keep distracting me?” you asked just as he finished pressing yet another kiss to your neck.

“We could forget about work,” he suggested.

“As much as that sounds enticing, I’m starving,” you sighed. “And I think we both know what happens when I haven’t had enough to eat.”

“Yes, I believe we’d like to avoid that,” he nodded his head and went back to chopping up some vegetables.

“Mark, can you pass me the pepper and paprika please?” you asked, pointed over to his spice cabinet as you walked away from the stove for a minute to go grab something to drink.

As you bent down to check what was in the fridge, something caught your eye on the counter and you quietly closed the fridge to inspect it.

“Mark, what’s this?’ you asked, picking up the small box and opening it as he protested only to stare blankly at what was in front of you.

“Ideally,” he started, “this would not have happened.”

“I-I just…” your voice trailed off.

Mark sighed, “You see I was worried this would happen, you’d see this and get scared and run away, and I’ve ruined it, haven’t I.”

“You mean this is meant for me?” you pointed to the ring, then to yourself.

He nodded his head.

“When did you get it?” you asked.

“The day we left Greece,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “See I told you, you would think I was insane-.”

“I never thought that,” you were grinning, looking up at him.

“You-You don’t?” he confirmed.

“Since I’ve ruined the surprise, why don’t you ask me the question and see what my answer is.” you suggested. “Go on.”

“I-Darling, are you sure you want to do it like this? I could plan something more romantic than being in my kitchen in the middle of making dinner.”

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s perfect.”

Mark took a deep breath and walked up to you, taking your hands in his, saying your name in the way he did that made you feel like it was his magic spell that would fix all his problems.

“Will you-,”

“Yes,” you interrupted him, unable to even contain your own excitement.

“You didn’t even let me get the question out,” he chuckled.

“Sorry, sorry,” you shook your head. “Say it again.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Mark Darcy, I would love to marry you,” you grinned and he quickly pulled you in for a searing kiss.

When you pulled apart, Mark took the ring from the box and slipped it onto your finger.

“Your parents are going to think we’re insane,” you laughed.

“And yours won’t?” he poked.

“Oh I’m sure they will, but-wait, what’s that smell?” you frowned.

Mark turned around and you looked past him seeing the smoke coming from the pan.

“Shit!” you exclaimed and quickly went to turn the stove off and move the pan off the hot element.

You both examined the burnt food and then looked at each other.

“Take out?” you suggested and he nodded.

“Thai?”

“Nah, what about Mexican?” you asked and he shook his head.

“Indian?” Mark landed on and you nodded.

“That’s the one.”

Mark easily reached out his hand and took it in yours before grabbing your coats and heading out the door.

As you walked down the lit streets, Mark lifted your hands so you could both see the ring glimmering under the streetlamps.

“I think it looks complete with a ring,” you said. “Don’t you?”

“I surely do,” he nodded and pressed a kiss to your hand. “I love you, my darling.”

You smiled fondly at him, “I love you too.”

—

Several years later…

Mark never got tired of going to sleep and waking up next to you every single day. If anything, his heart longed for you to be next to him when he was away on trips for work.

Tonight was no different, except it was a little sweeter on this occasion, it always was when he was coming back from being away.

He quietly got changed and slipped into bed next to you and you jolted awake, turning around excitedly.

“Jesus, Mark! When did you get here?” you asked.

“Moments ago,” he chuckled.

“I tried to stay awake,” you yawned. “I really did.”

“Well, you’re up now,” he kissed you. “And I suppose that means we can fall back asleep together.”

“Yes, but before we do that, I have something I wanted to ask you,” you started. “I’ve been thinking about this when you were away and I was wondering what you think of maybe having a little one join us?”

“You mean like Lucy?” he looked over at the corgi sleeping at the foot of the bed. “I suppose we could get another puppy-,”

“Mark, not a puppy,” you laughed. “A baby.”

“A baby,” he hummed thoughtfully. It was something he always assumed he would have, it seemed like the next logical progression of things, and when Mark thought of having a miniature version of you running through the hallways of your home, he was sold. “I think, if you’re ready of course, maybe we should start trying.”

“Really?” you grinned.

“It’s an easy decision,” he kissed your nose. “I would take any chance to bring more of your light to the world.”

You gently reached out for Mark’s cheek and looked at him lovingly.

“Funny, I was thinking the same about you.”

You both shared a sweet kiss, and Mark let his lips stray away from your lips, kissing along your jaw then your neck.

“You know, we could start trying now,” he murmured. “No harm in getting a head start.”

“Well, I am awake,” you raised your brows and squealed playfully while he pulled you on top of him.

After a little bit more discussion in the following days, you and Mark had gotten yourselves as prepared as you could for life as a family of three. Mark was determined to make sure your finances were in line and what both of your work lives would look like once a baby came into the picture. With that sorted you began trying, and weeks turned into months, which turned into a year, and then another, still with nothing.

Mark could see how difficult it was getting, each time you went in with a little light of hope in your eyes, but it continuously became dimmer and dimmer with each negative result.

At this point, you both wanted it so badly, but nothing you were doing seemed to do the trick so to speak.

Mark waited patiently outside the washroom while you went in there with another test, by now you had both lost count. When you came out he could see that the test still wasn’t done, so you both waited in silence by the kitchen counters for the three agonizing minutes to pass.

When your watch beeped, you hesitated before lifting the test up to your face to see what the results were. Mark was standing across from you and he watched as all hope and energy drained from face and how quickly your shoulders began to shake while you covered your face with your hand and began to sob.

Mark quickly came to your side and wrapped you up in his arms, taking the test away from you and placing it on the counter, allowing you to feel the weight on your chest, but also lean on him.

“I-I’m so sorry, Mark,” you shook your head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he shook his head. “It’s just a hurdle, we’ll jump over it like we always do.”

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” you cried softly into his shoulder. “It’s been two years since we started trying, Mark.”

“Then let’s press pause,” he whispered and kissed your temple, he could feel a few tears welling in his own eyes, not only was his heart crushed by the state you were in, but regardless of how much he let on, he wanted this too.

After a few more moments in silence together you told Mark you were going to call in sick at the museum and just take the day.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asked.

“No, you have important things to do at work, you should go,” you said as you walked back into your room.

Mark watched from the doorway as you walked to your side of the bed and slipped back under the covers.

“Are you sure?” he checked again.

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

He came in and kissed your temple once more, whispering a soft I love you which you returned.

Mark gathered his things and headed out the door, calling a taxi to come and pick him up. As he sat in the car and an overwhelming feeling came over him, he was about halfway to work when he couldn’t sit with it any longer.

“Can we please turn the car around,” he asked. “Just take me back to where you picked me up,” he told the driver while dialing a number on his phone.

“Hello?” a man’s voice on the other line responded.

“Paul, it’s Mark, I’m not going to be able to come to work today, something came up at home and I have to be with my wife.”

“I’m sure the world won’t burn down without you for one day,” Paul assured him. “Go be with your wife. You both barely took any time off for your honeymoon anyways.”

“Thank you, Paul. Call me if you need anything that I can do from home.”

“I won’t. Like I said, go be with your wife.”

Mark chuckled and they hung up the phone. He’d always had a hard time letting go of work, but sometimes it was a little easier when it came to you, and you both agreed there were a few things in your relationship that not even an urgent case could pull Mark away from. In his opinion, this was one of them.

When he entered the house again, he tossed his keys on the front table and slipped off his shoes while loosening his tie.

Coming back into the room again, he could see you were still curled up in the bed and Mark came carefully placing himself behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You came back?” you asked.

“This is more important than work,” he said. “Someone else can save the world today.”

You turned around and pressed your face into his chest, holding him so tightly.

“Thank you for coming,” you mumbled. “It hurts a little less when you’re around.”

“I feel the same,” he kissed your hairline. “And regardless of how things turn out, whether you get pregnant, or we adopt, or decide not to have a baby after all, we’ll still have each other.”

You looked up at him with a small smile,

“No regrets?” you asked, but he could tell you were teasing.

“Never,” he leaned down and kissed you and you knew he meant it.

—

A few more years later…

Mark stood outside the front door to his home, looking down at what was in his hands in contemplation. What would be the best way to break the news to you? He could just come in and show you, but perhaps it would be best to tell you slowly, he could manage that, he just had to use his skills as a lawyer and it would be easy as pie, you wouldn’t even know what had hit you.

With one last deep breath, Mark swung the door open and stepped inside.

“Darling, I’m home!” he called.

“Oh good!” you called, “I have something I want to tell you.”

Mark frowned curiously, and thought to himself what could it be that you had to tell him?

He hid his one hand behind his back and climbed up the stairs, meeting you in the living room.

“What was it you wanted to tell me?” you asked when you stepped into the room from the hallway.

“What did you want to tell me?” he asked in return.

“Maybe we should go on three?” you suggested and Mark nodded.

“1…”

“2…”

“3.”

“I bought another dog.” “I’m pregnant.”

Mark’s jaw dropped as he now held the baby dachshund puppy in front of him.

“You’re-You’re what?!” he repeated.

“You bought another dog?!” you looked with surprise at the puppy in front of you.

“I just thought Lucy was getting lonely, and we could use the extra energy in the house, but wait,” he paused, placing the small puppy on a soft spot of the carpet. “You said you’re…”

“Pregnant,” you smiled.

“But I thought-,”

“We couldn’t have kids?” you filled in for him and he nodded. “Turns out impossible sometimes means: very, very, very, very unlikely.”

“We’re going to have a baby,” Mark said softly to himself. “My God, we’re going to have a baby!”

He scooped you up in his arms and pressed a smacking kiss to your lips and you joked,

“Took us long enough.”

To which Mark laughed and said,

“I know right.”

“Now, I think someone on the carpet wants our attention,” you moved over to pick up the small puppy who was wagging its tail excitedly. “What’s your name, little one?”

“Maisie. She’s a rescue,” Mark said, wrapping his arms around you again from behind.

“A baby, and a puppy,” you shook your head. “It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

Lucy barked and you both laughed.

“Someone certainly thinks so,” Mark commented before bending down to pick Lucy up so she could meet her new sister.

“It will be a full house, that’s for sure,” you kissed Mark’s cheek, “but something tells me that’s what will make it fun.”

—

Nine months passed like a whirlwind and before you knew it, your beautiful baby Ana was here with minimal complications, leaving you with a very healthy baby.

The first time Mark held her in his arms you knew it was love at first sight, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen him smile that big.

“How am I supposed to go back to work when she’s growing every second,” Mark sighed and whispered as you held the napping baby in your arms, sitting up in your bed.

“You could try it out and see what it’s like,” you suggested. “Or maybe you could do consulting from home for a bit, until she’s a little older. Do you think they would let you do that?”

“They might,” he nodded. “They’ll probably call the police to report a missing person first.”

“Come on Mark, you’re not that bad,” you chuckled. “Okay, maybe you are, but you’ve always made time for what’s important. Trust me, especially if you talk to Paul, he’d be surprised if you didn’t quit.”

“I’ll call tomorrow and speak with the firm to see what they’ll allow,” he said.

“Are you sure you won’t miss working cases too much, and you won’t be too cooped up in the house with us?”

“I’m sure, and like you said, if it works out I can always reevaluate when she’s older.”

He looked back down at his daughter and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Don’t you think she’s just the most beautiful baby you’ve ever laid eyes on,” you sighed, leaning into your husband’s shoulder.

“The most beautiful indeed,” he turned his head and kissed your temple. “Just like her mother.”

“Mark, I’m literally a week postpartum after a geriatric pregnancy, no one looks good after that,” you laughed.

“You have the glow of motherhood,” he insisted. “And your smile still hasn’t changed,” the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“Sweat and delirium, my love,” you responded. “But either way,” you looked down at Ana once more. “I still can’t believe she’s really here.”

“Neither can I,” Mark spoke softly, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “Our daughter.”

“Have you thought about what you want her to call you?” you asked.

“I was thinking Papa, but I’m not sure it suits me, but she’s far too young to be training her.”

“Speak for yourself, I’ve already started to teach her how to say mum,” you teased which made Mark chuckle.

Ana started to move and shift in your arms and you could sense she was waking up to be fed.

“Unfortunately, I can’t be much help for this,” Mark said. “But I can go into the kitchen and warm up one of those lasagnes your mother made when she visited so that we can have something to eat.”

“Sounds splendid,” you kissed your husband’s cheek and exchanged quick "I love yous" before moving on with your respective tasks.

No matter how tired you got over the next couple of months, you both would never forget that feeling, the one of gratitude that by some chance of life, you were able to create the little human being in your arms.

—

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re okay to do today alone?” you asked.

“I’m sure,” Mark insisted, “look at us,” he pointed to the baby carrier fitted with a recently one year old Ana. “I’ve got phone consultations lined up for the day and some simple casework. You should go before you’re late.”

“Goodness, you’re right,” you looked down at your watch. “They really don’t tell you how hard it is to leave.”

Mark quickly kissed you goodbye and you kissed Ana, lingering a little longer, not knowing how you’d last a full day without your little girl.

“Alright, goodbye my loves, I’ll miss you,” you blew them both kisses and Ana giggled which made you smile as you headed down the stairs and quickly ran out the door to get into your taxi.

Back inside Mark slowly began to get into the groove of things.

“Today is Papa and Ana banana’s day,” he smiled and kissed the top of her head, listening to her babble. She’d do that whenever he called her Ana banana and sometimes he’d do it just to hear her little attempt at speech and communication. “Alright, shall we get to work?”

Ana bounced in her carrier, smiling brightly.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Mark grinned.

Having already felt with breakfast, Mark put on an earpiece and began making his necessary phone calls, walking around his home office consulting on matters pertaining to different cases he was consulting on.

After about an hour or so Ana began to get a little fussy and Mark assumed she wanted to move around a bit, so he took her out of her carrier and placed her inside an enclosed play area in his office while he did some paperwork.

He loved any time he would get to spend with Ana, even if it meant working from home.

The rest of the day went by in a flash and by the time you got home both Mark and Ana were taking a nap on the couch. Ana was lying on top of Mark’s chest drooling on his shirt and Mark still had his bluetooth in his ear.

It was a sight to see and you quickly snapped a picture before either of them awoke.

Carefully you took Ana off of Mark and went to place her in her cot and woke up Mark, knowing if he stayed asleep any longer he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night.

“Where’s Ana?” he asked immediately and you chuckled.

“I put her in the cot. Your father-daughter day go as planned?”

“Exactly,” he nodded and you kissed his cheek.

“Come on, I brought home dinner. You can tell me all about it.”

You took Mark by the hand and dragged him to the kitchen, making sure to turn the baby monitor on in case Ana woke up.

You grabbed your takeout and sat on the counter, eating your food, watching Mark and listening to him recount all of the cute things Ana did throughout the day.

Even though more of your meals had become store bought and you were running around in every direction, it was always all worth it when at the end of the day you could sit together and visit, especially with Ana at your side.

—

“I think we should go, don’t you?” you placed the invitation back on the table. “It’s a good excuse to go on vacation again and it’s around the area where we met. It could be romantic.”

Mark looked skeptical.

“I’m not sure it’s the best idea, perhaps we could go another time.”

“Isn’t this your friend getting married?” you asked. “Come on Mark, please? Right Ana darling? Don’t you wanna go too?”

“Yes Papa,” she stood up in her chair and clasped her small hands together. “Please!”

Mark looked over at his wife and daughter and shook his head.

“Alright, I’ll look into the tickets,” he said and you grinned and Ana clapped.

“Your first real vacation Miss Ana, what do you think?” you kissed her cheek.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’ve never been on vacation.”

Mark chuckled and picked up his now six-year-old daughter,

“Well, your mum and I met on vacation,” Mark told her. “She was very clumsy.”

“And your papa was very-”

“Handsome,” Mark tickled Ana and she squealed. “Now before your mum can correct me, why don’t we go look for flights, Ana banana.”

“Alright, Papa,” Ana agreed.

“Ah ah ah,” you scooped Ana out of Mark’s hands. “After she finishes her dinner.”

Ana quickly jumped out of your arms and went to eat her food as fast as she could so she could join her dad.

“Slow down, sweetheart you’re going to choke,” you chuckled as she pushed her plate away from herself, saying,

“Done!” with her mouth half full of food.

In the end you got what you wanted because three short months later you had landed in Greece and were on your way to the location of the wedding being held for Mark’s friend.

“Mark, isn’t this the dock where we met?” you asked, looking around at the benches as scenery that looked very familiar. “Yes, I think it is, look, there’s that hotel I stayed at.”

“Mum, this is where you and Papa met?” Ana asked and you nodded.

“What a lovely coincidence that is,” you smiled and kissed your daughter's cheek.

Mark just gave you a small smile as you awaited the ferry and after you boarded the crowded boat, you squished into a few seats with Ana sitting half on your leg and half on Mark’s.

“I guess you finally have the chance to take this ferry,” you laughed a little to yourself, but you could help but notice that Mark was awfully quiet. You figured you’d ask him about it later, maybe once you’d settled in your hotel room, but first on your list was to mingle with the rest of the wedding guests and the bride and groom in some of the hotel common areas.

All three of you couldn’t have been more happy to get off that boat and Ana was excited to have a little run around before coming back and holding one of your hands and one of Mark’s.

“Did you and Papa come here, Mum?” Ana asked while swinging both her arms.

“No, we didn’t,” you shook your head. “I guess we were just waiting to come with you.”

“Well you waited a long time.”

That made you both chuckle as you finally finished your walk and arrived at the hotel.

“Should we check in or-?”

“Mark!” you all turned when you heard his name only to see a bright smiling blonde woman coming your way. “Mark, it’s so good to see you, I’m so glad you could make it.”

She gave him a big hug before taking a step back and introducing herself to both you and Ana.

“I’m Bridget,” she said. “It’s so nice to meet you all, you must be Mark’s family.”

“Yes,” you grinned. “And you’re the bride!”

“Guilty,” she laughed. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come or not, but I figured I’d throw the invitation out there.”

“Oh, why wouldn’t he come?” you asked curiously, not noticing Mark’s tense reaction.

“It’s just, after Mark and I broke up I came to Greece, oh what was it, around ten fifteen years ago, and I just hoped it wasn’t a sore subject still, but I can see it isn’t,” she pointed at you and Ana. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

You wanted to respond, but your mouth seemed to stop working. You heard Mark do it for you and quickly excused you all so you could check into the hotel.

You could hear your name being said a few times when finally a gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your trance.

“Ana, can you do Papa a favour and go over there and spend time with aunt Jude?” he asked.

“Okay,” she nodded and chased after her father’s friend’s wife leaving just you and Mark.

You turned to him with a hurt look on your face,

“You came to Greece to chase after her didn’t you,” you said quietly. “That’s why I found you on the dock; that’s why you were waiting for the ferry.”

Mark chewed on his lip and nodded.

“And you didn’t think to tell me she was your ex before letting me convince myself it was a good idea to come here?”

“Darling, you were so excited and I didn’t think it mattered-,”

“Mark, please,” you shook your head. “I just-,” you paused and took a breath. “I need some time.”

You took some of your things and went to the front desk to check into the hotel while Mark went to join Jude who had Ana in her arms. He made friendly conversation until you were done and you collected Ana and went upstairs to your room in silence.

“Ana, how are you feeling, my love?” you asked.

“I’m a little sleepy,” she admitted. “Is it bedtime soon?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “We’ll all get ready and tuck in early, how does that sound?”

She yawned, “Good.”

Once you got in the room, you started to help Ana get changed while Mark got out your toiletries and easily took over when it came to teeth brushing. You took the time to get changed and settled, giving Ana a book to flip through while you and Mark both silently got ready for bed and slipped in the bed on either side of Ana.

You slept close to the edge, your back turned away from the centre so Ana naturally decided to curl closer to father.

“Is Mum okay?” Ana asked in a quiet mumble.

“I hope so,” Mark kissed her head. “Why don’t we go to sleep, maybe we’ll all feel a little better in the morning.”

You hoped deep down Mark was right.

—

“Why isn’t Mum coming with us to the beach?” Ana asked while Mark helped her put on some sunscreen.

“She just needs some time to herself,” Mark said simply. “You know how Mum and Papa sometimes like to have alone time.”

“Yeah, but we’re on vacation,” she tilted her head. “Do you think she’ll come later?”

“Maybe Ana banana, I’m not sure. I think Papa might have hurt her feelings by accident,” he admitted.

“Did you say you were sorry?” she asked.

“I did, but sometimes we need to say sorry and give some alone time, too.”

Ana nodded her head thoughtfully, “Okay, then let’s go to the beach so she can have her alone time.”

Mark nodded his head and took his daughter’s hand in one of his and grabbed a bag in the other and they headed out to the beach together.

Ana was adamant on starting off with a sandcastle, but both her and Mark found out quickly it was a little harder than it looked in all the movies, so they quickly abandoned that task to go for a swim. Ana had always enjoyed being in the water and Mark loved seeing how much she was enjoying herself. He just wished you were there to see it with him.

He tried to keep his focus on Ana for the time being, knowing he would hopefully have a moment later to talk to you, but the day passed so quickly and before he knew it you were back in bed resting to prepare for the rehearsal dinner the next day.

The next morning, Mark made a point to speak with you before you went down for breakfast, knowing if he left it he may not catch you until dinner.

“I spoke with Jude,” he started, “she can look after Ana this afternoon so we can talk.”

“Alright,” you nodded. “We can meet on the terrace.”

Mark agreed and before you left, quickly reached for your hand to give it a squeeze.

You chewed on your lip before squeezing it back, he was still your husband and you still loved him regardless of your hurt.

The afternoon couldn’t come fast enough for Mark, he waited anxiously by the terrace after dropping Ana off with Jude, at least she’d have fun playing with her friends.

“Mark,” you waved him down by the stairs. “Come on, let's walk,” you suggested.

He jogged to catch up with you and you walked side by side down the stairs and further along into the streets, busy with traffic and locals, just going about their daily business.

“I figured I should probably tell you the whole story of how I ended up in Greece,” Mark said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You nodded your head and motioned for him to continue.

“After Bridget and I broke up, for the second time mind you, I thought I had to chase after because in my mind I thought she was the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with,” he said truthfully. “So I wound up on that bench on the dock, mourning my losses as she came to the island and I was stuck on the mainland.”

“You wanted to marry her?” you asked.

“I thought I did,” he clarified, “but then I met you.”

“Mark-,”

“You know me, darling. I’m terrible with emotional declarations, which is probably why I never managed to tell you how quickly I fell in love with you,” he admitted. “I was set to pack my bags and go home, but you convinced me, somehow just in your demeanour to stay, and so I did and spent ten of the most wonderful days of my life by your side. It made me realize the reason I came to Greece wasn’t for Bridget, I came because I had to meet you.”

You looked up at Mark and saw him staring down at his shoes.

“It never occurred to me to mention her because of how clear my future looked with you in it. How clear it still looks.”

“And how does it look?” you asked.

“Well,” he sighed. “Ana grows up and becomes a lawyer of course.”

You chuckled at that.

“And as she grows we retire eventually, move into that rundown cottage in the countryside we always talk about buying. They come up with some way to keep dogs alive forever and we grow old, fixing our cottage with Lucy and Maisie and Ana visits us on weekends, eventually with a husband and our grandchildren. It’s quiet and simple, but it’s us.”

You smiled a little to yourself and leaned your head against his arm which he easily wrapped around you.

“How uncomfortable was that for you?” you asked, knowing your husband wasn’t often fond of talking about his feelings.

“Unbearable,” he said, “but worth it.”

“Good,” you turned his head to face you and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I’d love to grow old with you, Mark Darcy. Although I’m already convinced we have a little bit, the hotel bed is really not doing it for my back.”

“That’s funny, I was going to say the pillows for my neck,” Mark teased and you nudged him a little. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you had a very romantic reason for not telling me,” you joked while circling back towards the hotel. Ana caught both of your eyes and she waved at you, rushing down to meet you at the bottom of the stairs, much to Jude’s worry.

“Mum, is your alone time done?” Ana asked.

“Yes it is, my dear,” you laughed and bent down to kiss her forehead.

“Good, cause you need to come see this trick I learned!” she exclaimed, grabbing both yours and Mark’s hands and pulling you up the stairs.

@/iceman-kazansky

#mark darcy #mark darcy x reader #bridget jones diary #colin firth #colin firth x reader #mark darcy fanfiction #mark darcy fanfic #mark darcy fic #colin firth fanfiction #colin firth fanfic

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vettelsvee · 16 days

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I WANNA BE THERE, WITH YOU | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist

summary: seb returns home after finishing the 2008 formula 1 season. everything seems to be going well for him except for his relationship with his girlfriend, hanna, who thinks that, as it is more than obvious, he's hiding something related to a certain toro rosso intern whom seb is so eager for redbull to hire.

word count: 6237

warnings: brief smut (oral, male receiving) and let's say horny moment but not exactly having sex. toxic behavior.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

2023

"Seb, this is the first time you sit alone in front of all these cameras. How does it feel not to have Diana by your side?"

The German didn't find it amusing at all. After spending an incredible day and an even better night with his wife, he felt nothing but helplessness when they called him around six-fifteen in the morning to inform him that Diana couldn't be present in the first part of the recording since it would focus solely on him. Despite finding it very strange, he didn't object. They had a contract to follow, and as much as it hurt, he couldn't do what he wanted.

His anger was such that he didn't greet anyone when he arrived on set. He simply reluctantly dropped his belongings and sat in the chair hastily placed in the middle of the room, hoping the whole affair would end quickly. He didn't even speak to his former colleagues, who remained impassive to Vettel's behavior that morning.

"It's a damn shit, honestly," he answer sincerely and aggressively. "If you didn't want Diana here today, you could have let us know earlier."

"Seb..." Webber began cautiously. "It's not that she's not here because we don't want her, but because from now on, it's going to be like this. At least until this part of the story is over."

Seeing the confusion on the blonde's face, Mark signaled the cameras to turn off for a bit more privacy.

Sebastian wasn't understanding anything, and it overwhelmed him.

"But..."

"We're going to start talking about everything related to your relationship with Hanna," Jenson Button said without hesitation. "We're aware of everything it meant for two or three years in your relationship with Diana, so we don't want you to be influenced when explaining what you experienced with Prater."

"We think that if your wife isn't present when we record part of what concerns your ex, you'll be more honest."

Sebastian nodded. He couldn't argue with them because he'd be lying to himself. Although it was true that Diana had significantly improved her insecurities and had stopped comparing herself to her ex-girlfriend a long time ago, and they even became close friends, Sebastian knew that there were certain things she was better off not finding out, if possible, never. Although that was impossible: Diana was so perfectionistic that she would probably watch the entire documentary as soon as it was released.

"Perfect," the blonde said briefly. "Of course, you're right. Where do you want to start?"

"We already know your whole story: you met in class, then fell in love so much that you started dating the moment you left school," the Australian listed, receiving approvals from his former teammate. "So... how about we start with the end of the 2008 season?"

[...]

2008 November 3rd

The flight back to Germany was becoming exhausting, especially since Sebastian had been answering questions for various media outlets throughout the entire journey that began in Sao Paulo as a proposal established by his new team, Red Bull Racing.

Facing a camera and several spotlights, the German driver, who had completed his first whole Formula 1 season, felt quite intimidated. Despite portraying in press conferences and other types of conferences that he enjoyed the presence of the media and liked the attention focused on him, it was quite the opposite.

"It amuses me that we're talking about the 2008 season as if ten years had passed when it ended just a few hours ago."

Despite being tired of the situation and eagerly wishing to get home to be with his family and girlfriend, his sense of humor was still there. The decision to take the first flight back immediately after the race was not his, but his younger sister Lara's. Lara was eager to hug and play with Sebastian, even go to therapy with him, everything she hadn't done for the past few months. A few pleas and some puppy-dog eyes were more than enough to convince the driver.

"Looking back, it's been an incredible year, no doubt," he commented sincerely. "Toro Rosso has been a great team that has supported me from the very beginning and, above all, has made me feel at home."

The twenty-year-old laughed before continuing, earning approval from his public relations, who at that moment seemed to be a teacher examining him orally.

"Winning a race for the first time, and in Monza, was incredible. And all thanks to Diana..." Oops, he had slipped up. "The team intern, a great friend of mine... well, colleague," he tried to correct himself, stumbling over his own words. "Let's see, not that either. She's just another team member, you know."

If this were a test, he would already be failing with honors. Britta's face in those moments only showed the desire to kill him, something she would gladly do if Sebastian Vettel weren't her main source of income, as well as a very nice guy who became a very important person for her.

"Can you tell us more about this Diana?" the accompanying journalist inquired, wanting to know more about the unknown figure.

"Of course!" he replied cheerfully, ignoring the pleading looks Roeske was throwing at him to avoid continuing the topic. "We're not best of friends, of course, but we have been a significant support for each other during the ups and downs of racing,nd perhaps also for personal reasons," he pointed out, recalling the numerous races he couldn't finish, "Wagner often has incredible ideas, but there are more than a few idiots on the team who only see her as a lapdog to do this or that," he explained. "Even I, myself, have doubted her, but who wouldn't! However, that doesn't mean I don't trust her. I actually trust her a quite a lot," he added.

Britta was looking at him with a very unfriendly face, even starting to wave her hands to get his attention and make him shut up. She knew that a great majority of her client's words were invented and wouldn't serve any purpose other than creating controversy and turning people against him.

"To be honest, there were times when I worried about her antics and the high chances of them sending me into the gravel," the blonde continued, disregarding the gestures from the woman in front of him, "but in Monza nothing happened, thankfully!"

The reporter remained immersed in the conversation, which again focused on Vettel's overall performance in the season. He tried to insert some more personal questions, but either the German was so absorbed in the wonderful professional year he had, or he skillfully avoided them, not panicking when hearing them.

"So, can we assume that the relationship between Diana Wagner and you goes beyond the professional?"

"Excuse me, but I believe we've already talked enough about certain aspects of my client's privacy," Britta intervened, seeing that the conversation might head in an unpleasant direction. "The agreement when this interview was arranged was to talk about Sebastian Vettel's performance at Toro Rosso before his move to Red Bull, not about his appearance on a gossip show, which is what this seems to have turned into," she stated rather abruptly.

Sebastian shrugged, unsure of what to say to the woman's remarks, simultaneously fearing that he might say something foolish and make matters worse.

"But, Sebastian, could you confirm, at least, the rumors about the hotel night you shared during the Italian Grand Prix with that girl?" the man continued, ignoring Britta's previous signals.

"This is going too far," Britta almost shouted. Having lost her patience, she leaned toward the journalist and spoke in a low but firm voice. "Your behavior with my client is unacceptable. You ither leave this area right now, or I'll have to call security and our lawyers. Your choice," she backed away, giving him a very fake smile.

He seemed surprised and somewhat reluctant to the threat. Eventually, he yielded to Roeske's authority, gathering his belongings with his team and immediately withdrawing from the VIP area of the plane while muttering some low protests or insults that the Germans didn't hear.

Britta looked at Sebastian disdainfully, who simply shrugged as if he had done nothing. Britta sighed.

"Seb, you have to be more careful about what you say out there," she explained as calmly as she could. "You can't speak so openly about certain topics if you want your relationship with Hanna to remain private."

"I know, Britta," he sighed, admitting he had made a mistake but, at the same time, not understanding what was wrong with talking about Diana. "Sometimes I don't think before I speak, and I mess up."

"You need to be careful when saying anything related to Diana," Roeske continued, ignoring Vettel's words. "If you don't want to mess up your relationship, of course. I understand that you two get along pretty well, but what you do or say about this girl can be misunderstood. Don't you remember the photos from Monza?" she inquired, making the driver lower his head, embarrassed. "How you called me immediately to say everyone it was me when clearly, it wasn't, and everyone knew it?"

The public relations' anger was increasing, while Sebastian tried to come up with excuses to stop her from lecturing him. He was too tired. He wanted to sleep and get home as soon as possible, eat something, say a few silly things to his younger sister, and go to sleep. Or do something more fun, alone, with his girlfriend.

"Just say she's just a good friend, nothing else," he said downplaying it and curling up in his seat. "You don't have to worry about it. It's nonsense."

Britta frowned and crossed her arms.

"Don't play smart with me, Vettel," she increased the seriousness of her voice. Now she had the boy's full attention. "I know you too well. I'm not telling you not to be friends, but I know there's something more than just a friendship, and you see it as something you'd like to have but, for one reason or another, you can't," Sebastian's face turned marble-colored. Roeske was right, but he was too proud to admit it. "I'm telling you all this for your own good, but if you want your relationship with Hanna to continue as it is, you need to set boundaries. Also," she added, "you know perfectly well that you're playing with Wagner, and I wouldn't want you to hurt her."

"Britta: Diana is an amazing person and very important in my life, but not in the way you're thinking," lie. "I see her as a little sister," another lie, "someone I trust and who, actually, understands me," that was true. "I have no intention of ruining my relationship with Hanna, really."

For now, that's what came to the German's mind, but as soon as he could, he tried to shake off that thought from his subconscious. Sometimes he hated himself to levels he never thought anyone could hate him, not even the guys who had been so envious of him throughout his short life.

The blonde sighed, trying to believe the boy given the conviction his words seemed to have.

"I hope so, Seb. I just want you to make smart decisions and think about the consequences of everything you say, not just for you but for those you care about. They're not to blame for anything you do or say," she commented, trying to reason with him and make sure he remembered the talk they were having.

He nodded sincerely, reclining again in search of a comfortable position to sleep for the remainder of the flight. Britta, mimicking him, leaned back in her seat. She closed her eyes, but she could hear Sebastian calling her again.

"What do you want now, Seb?"

"Thanks for everything," he said sincerely, his voice slightly drowsy from fatigue.

She settled back, and, accompanied by Sebastian's soft snores and the constant hum of the engine, fell asleep, just like her companion.

His sleep was interrupted after what seemed like a few minutes, although the reality was that about two hours had passed. A voice over the loudspeaker announcing that they had arrived in Cologne, their destination, startled Roeske, who opened her eyes abruptly and looked around for a few seconds, a bit confused and experiencing a sudden dizziness. Sebastian was still next to her, sound asleep. Without wasting a second, she approached him and began shaking him to wake him up. For security reasons, they needed to exit the plane before anyone else to avoid encounters with fans.

"Wake up!" Britta shouted in his ear. Seb just purred like a cat, turning around and holding onto the pillow he had in his grasp. "Come on, Sebastian. We've already arrived in Cologne."

Another unintelligible murmur emerged from the lips of the German, who seemed trapped in a dream he was enjoying. The woman realized he had reset his mind in just a few hours and already had it in vacation mode, and that was starting to test her patience again. She took a deep breath and tried to wake him up again.

"Sebastian Vettel, wake up!" she shouted more energetically, earning glances from some of the people present. "We've already landed in Cologne, so don't linger anymore and get up now," she urged, even shaking him to see if it had more effect.

The driver finally opened his eyes, although he was totally disoriented. He uttered some imperceptible words in his native language for Roeske and rubbed his eyes as he stretched, then looked at the woman totally bewildered.

"What's wrong with you?" he murmured sleepily. "Have you had a psychotic episode and need help?"

Britta turned her gaze, impassive to the what the boy said. She was relieved because at least he was awake, even if he was about to surrender to Morpheus again.

"We've landed in Cologne already," she repeated for the third time, now with a more relaxed tone. "We have to pick up what little we have here and get off now," she declared authoritatively. "You know the arrival of a celebrity, fans, and screams are not a good combination."

And she knew it very well. Both Germans began to tidy up the mess they had caused throughout the flight, folding the blankets provided by the airline and throwing away the remnants of food they had been offered. Shortly after, they made sure they didn't leave anything behind and left the cabin they were in.

As they exited the plane and waited for the relevant security members, the PR started explaining Seb's plans for the next few days. They discussed various prearranged interviews, promotional events he had to attend for some brands, and above all, she emphasized the meeting the young man would have with the team later that week to finalize the details of his contract. Even though the holiday period had begun, the schedule was full, and his responsibilities didn't end as soon as Vettel set foot out of the cockpit.

Shortly afterward, the security guards who would accompany them to the exit of the facility appeared. Britta and Sebastian introduced themselves, although they knew the latter perfectly, and received the corresponding professional greetings. One of them, a robust man with an attentive gaze, indicated that they would accompany them, for the time being, to the area for picking up checked baggage.

"I hope you had a good flight, Mr. Vettel, Mrs. Roeske," he announced as they walked quickly through the long corridors of the airport.

"Within the measure of what you can expect from a flight of almost fourteen hours, yes," Britta replied, still smiling.

Sebastian agreed with her, also adding his thanks for caring about his safety and being there with them at that moment to avoid any altercations.

"It's part of our job."

As they began to approach the conveyor belts with hundreds of suitcases from the just-landed international flights, Britta began to notice, in the distance, the presence of several fans who were beginning to gather to see Sebastian. They looked tired, and the blonde wondered how long they had been waiting for his arrival. The security guards also seemed to notice this, as a few more appeared within seconds, surrounding the celebrity in a somewhat alarming way.

Sebastian turned to his PR confused, and gave her a smile.

"Not many usually come," the German commented honestly, "but they never cease to amaze me... How can they always know what time we arrive? Is there someone leaking that information?"

"That's what being a rising star in Formula 1 is like," Britta chuckled softly. "Calm down: you deserve this more than anyone, even if sometimes you want to tell them to go to hell."

The noise of the crowd intensified as they advanced toward the arrivals area of the airport, now with their suitcases with them. The fans' shouts began to resonate loudly, filling the atmosphere with a very positive yet somewhat distressing energy. The security guards kept the more excited ones at bay, who might try to do something crazy; meanwhile, the pilot and PR greeted and smiled enthusiastically.

Sebastian didn't hesitate to drop his suitcase and start approaching the crowd, even though they were telling him otherwise. If the German was there, it was not only because of his effort but also because of the people in front of him at that moment who had decided to put their trust in him.

"Sebastian, I love you!"

"Can you sign my cap?"

"Next year, we want you to come back home with a championship!"

The cheers of excitement and flashes of cameras became increasingly present, all in an attempt to capture the attention of the German sensation. Seb smiled, waved, shook hands, took photos, and signed anything that anyone put in front of him, with gratitude and maintaining professionalism as much as possible, although it was a bit challenging for him.

"Guys, calm down!" the blonde raised his voice, trying to calm the crowd. "I'll be with you as long as they let me, so I'll try to make sure each of you get something from me!"

The young man spent a long time signing caps, shirts, and photographs while briefly chatting with some of those in the front rows. Britta could only smile as she kept an eye on the security guards, who seemed more than accustomed to that kind of massive gathering.

"Sorry, Mr. Vettel, but it's time to go. There are also two people waiting for you in the VIP lounge," commented the security man with whom they had exchanged words, who was already taking him by the elbow and moving him away from the crowd. Sebastian was a bit surprised: who could be waiting for him? "More people are coming, and we can't risk anything serious happening."

"Understood, thank you," the driver answered. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

After turning his back on the man and shaking off his grip, Vettel quickly apologized to the fans and said goodbye as best he could, promising them that the coming season would be much more promising. Roeske remained by his side despite the overwhelm she was starting to feel. The woman's relief was present as the security guards surrounded them and hurriedly led them to what seemed to be the other end of the airport.

"Feeling calmer?" Britta asked her client.

"Not really," Sebastian replied. "I'm a bit nervous because they told me someone was waiting for me," he explained, trying to calm his anxiety. "I don't know who could be in the VIP lounge they're taking us to."

The woman diverted her gaze from the boy and chuckled quietly. She had planned that little surprise for him a few days ago because he deserved it. She knew that fatigue and jet lag, combined with the boredom of the interviews during the long flight, had taken a toll on him. Still, she hoped that when his eyes landed on his father and his girlfriend, who had been waiting for them for quite some time, his spirits would lift.

As the room appeared before them, Sebastian could recognize two slightly blurry figures, which increased his nervousness. Britta just restrained her laughter and, why not, her excitement. After approaching a bit more leisurely, the first thing the blue-eyed pilot noticed was a message written in a font he recognized perfectly: "You're finally back, champion of my heart."

"Seb!"

Hanna, who was a few meters away but right in front of him, couldn't contain her excitement and ran to greet him, not caring who was watching them and letting the sign she had been preparing for days fall instead of studying. Seb, totally moved, opened his arms to receive his girlfriend, whom he lifted slightly when she reached him. Still above him, she kissed him calmly, as if there were only the two of them in the room, while Prater clung to his waist with her legs to avoid falling, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Laughter began to spread between the young lovers after finishing the kiss. Finally, they were living the moment they had longed for so much.

"My God, Hanna... I can't believe I'm finally here, with you."

The German, without taking his eyes off his girlfriend, lowered her to the ground, still hugging her. The blonde could only look at him with emotion, not believing that the love of her life was finally by her side. She took his face in her hands with affection and began to distribute short kisses all over his face.

"I've missed you so much..." Sebastian whispered, putting his forehead against hers and caressing her hair tenderly.

"I've missed you too," she revealed, "and you have no idea how much."

All the couple wanted at that moment was to give each other all the love they hadn't been able to profess for months. Still, the fear of being caught by paparazzi and fans, in addition to the presence of Norbert Vettel, Britta Roeske, and possibly the entire airport security team in Cologne, made them relax a bit.

And thankfully so, because Sebastian knew that, as tired as he was, if Hanna continued to throw him those looks that expressed something more than romance, he was going to end up in the bathrooms with her doing what he had wished to do to her for months.

"Well, well, young man, aren't you going to leave anything for the man who gave you life?"

Norbert interrupted the moment between the lovers, and quickly, they separated their hands, which were still intertwined. Sebastian ran with excitement to hug his father, whom he had missed more than he initially thought.

"For me, my wife comes first," the young man declared, focusing his gaze on the blonde. "That's what you taught me. Or am I wrong?"

His father nodded, crossing his arms.

"Whatever you say," the man said, proud of his son.

He picked up his son's suitcases and headed towards the exit door, where he had parked the family vehicle a bit haphazardly. His wife, Heike, had started calling him. She had been quite insistent in the past few days about their son's return home, so it wouldn't be wise to ignore her call if he wanted to avoid an argument with her.

"Seb, remember that in a week we have the meeting in Berlin with Horner, Marko, and the others," the PR reminded. Vettel began to snort and threw his head back in reproach. "Don't do that!" Britta scolded him, "you know we have to finalize the details of your contract for the next season."

"A meeting? Again? I thought we were on vacation!"

One day, that guy was going to test the woman's patience.

"Darling, calm down," Hanna intervened, taking his hand affectionately and squeezing him. "Don't make Britta angry, you know she's doing this for you. I'd like to know where you would be if it weren't for her!"

Norbert, who was with his son's luggage near the exit, listening to his wife urging him impatiently, let out an exclamation with a tone louder than he would have liked.

Sebastian raised his hands in surrender. He hated that they didn't understand his sarcasm despite boasting that they knew him well. Now he was alone, with the woman who had become his second mother, as his girlfriend had approached Norbert, and they were now engrossed in a suggestive conversation about who knows what.

"All right, all right! I was just joking," the young man directed his gaze directly at Roeske, and for once, she could see seriousness in his eyes. "I thought you knew."

"It's reached a point where I don't know if you're laughing with us or at us, Vettel," Britta replied, emphasizing the latter.

"It's serious, Britta," the blonde insisted, "I'll prepare what you asked for..."

The mentioned woman didn't give Sebastian a chance to finish the sentence. Making sure Hanna was still focused on her father-in-law's words, she looked at the pilot seriously, trying to make him listen carefully and remember her words before committing any madness he might regret in the coming months.

"Seb, I need you to take the decision about Wagner seriously," she articulated firmly. "I don't want you to include her in the team out of pity," she diverted her gaze towards the blonde before continuing, "or due to some personal feeling."

"I think she has what it takes to shine," the boy whispered. "I don't know how many times or to whom else I have to say it."

The older blonde nodded, not very convinced of the boy's words; she couldn't say anything else because Sebastian's family approached to inform him that Heike, the matriarch of the Vettel family, was eager for her son to arrive home, as well as his two younger siblings.

While he heard the farewells between his father and his girlfriend and Roeske, and as they approached the car, got in and headed towards their hometown, Sebastian Vettel thought again, before falling asleep on the way back home, about the last words he had shared with Britta. He promised himself that this person would not cross his mind again during the winter break of 2008, but it was inevitable for him to dream of Diana Wagner giving him orders on the track and celebrating his second victory with him, all while his head rested on his girlfriend's shoulders.

[...]

The first dinner back home with his parents, his girlfriend and his two younger siblings, Fabian and Lara, had gone better than he had imagined. Even Heike, the matriarch of the Vettel family, encouraged Hanna to stay overnight with her son, considering how much they had missed each other. After a somewhat rushed dessert due to the sleep consuming Sebastian, the couple decided to retire early with the intention of going to sleep. They would talk and do everything they wanted the next day.

The room where Sebastian had slept almost all his life was shrouded in darkness, with the only trickle of light coming from the full moon that adorned the sky that night. Hanna, before making sure the room's door was closed, felt Sebastian's lips starting to travel her neck. She sighed softly, feeling excitement starting to fill her, especially between her legs, as Sebastian's lips only left a trail of kisses all over her skin. The intensity of the moment increased when the driver's hands went towards the girl's breasts. Hanna moaned as subtly as she could and fiercely kissed the blonde, pulling him closer to her.

They both wanted more. The voracious hunger they felt for each other was evident. They had been in a sexless state, between Vettel's absences and Prater's studies, since the summer when they had decided to take a short trip to Berlin. No matter how hard they tried to control themselves, they couldn't stop kissing each other. The fabric that clothed them began to disappear, bringing them closer and making them lie on the bed with only their underwear, even rubbing desperately against each other.

However, the girl couldn't continue when she thought she heard, amid one of her boyfriend's moans, what seemed to be the fourth letter of the alphabet.

Hanna lifted herself slightly, looking directly at the blue-eyed man, still lying down, with a somewhat strange mix of passion and confusion.

"What did you just say?"

Sebastian blinked, sitting up as quickly as he could.

"Say?" he paled. "I didn't say anything, Hanna."

His girlfriend wore a displeased expression, still puzzled by the sound she thought she heard. At that moment, doubts began to invade her, and images of Sebastian with the intern, Diana, in Monza, along with rumors about the night they had spent together, flooded her mind. Desire, doubt, and concern were the three emotions that began to overwhelm her; she also felt fear and, above all, insecurity.

While Hanna knew that her boyfriend had a strictly professional relationship with the girl, she couldn't help but think that maybe something more had happened between them.

"Seb, I...," began the blonde, trying to keep her tears in check, "I need you to explain who Diana Wagner is and why everyone associates her with you."

Sebastian sighed, took a breath, and, as he had done several times before, explained who the blonde was:

"Diana is just a girl studying Mechanical Engineering at a university in Barcelona, doing an internship at Toro Rosso," the guy explained. "That's it. There's nothing more to it, Hanna."

The girl didn't seem convinced. Her boyfriend always ended up giving her the same speech, and he had said the same thing so many times that she had memorized those words, pauses included.

"I know you might worry about our relationship," Seb continued, soft but firm, "but there's nothing beyond a professional relationship." He left out the part about their friendship.

"Why did you arrive in the paddock with her, then?" Hanna asked again. "And why do all the journalists now ask you about her? And the hotel room...?"

"I'll repeat it, love: she's part of the team," he explained again, cutting her off and trying not to lose patience. "Everything gets taken out of context just to sell a bit. As for the hotel room," he added, "she was just helping me with some strategies that helped me win in Monza."

Hanna tried to believe him, but she couldn't. She knew it wasn't the German's fault, but hers for having so little trust in herself. Although the hatred she had for Diana Wagner was well deserved... Who did that girl think she was to be with her boyfriend like that?

No, she couldn't think like that. That was being a toxic person.

"She's a temporary worker," the girl suddenly exclaimed angrily, catching Sebastian completely off guard, "not a track engineer as such."

"She helps me, and I like her company. She's very pleasant," the blonde finally admitted. "I don't know why you're making a drama out of all this when I've literally explained a thousand times that she's not someone I care about."

Tension was escalating rapidly, and an uncomfortable silence enveloped the room suddenly. Sebastian knew he shouldn't have said that last part because he did care about his colleague; however, Hanna's incessant words and apparent lack of trust were confusing him.

"Hanna, I feel nothing but pity for Diana, okay? That's why I requested in my contract, and I'll keep insisting at Saturday's meeting, for her to accompany me at Red Bull," he explained desperately. "There's no other reason beyond that, I swear."

"I'm not making a scene or anything," she said, returning to the previous conversation and avoiding her boyfriend's latest revelation. "I'm just trying to vent with you."

Sebastian's patience was wearing thin. He no longer knew what else to do to make the girl beside him believe him.

"I love you, Hanna," Vettel said sincerely. "Why do you think, since those photos came out, that I'm hiding something from you?"

"I don't know, why have I never been to a race?" The girl looked at her boyfriend with sadness and frustration once again present in her mind.

Sebastian sighed, trying to find the right words. He knew she was having one of the many jealous episodes she'd been having since she found out about Wagner.

"You know as much as I do that you don't like races," he reminded her. "Plus, you wouldn't enjoy the paddock life. You even told me to keep this private!"

"Are you saying you want to hide me, don't you?"

"Stop twisting this and listen when I speak. You say whatever comes to your mind. This conversation makes no sense, Hanna," Sebastian imposed, a bit annoyed by the confusion his girlfriend was adding to the situation. "One thing is wanting to hide you, which I don't want to do," he clarified, "and another is wanting to protect our relationship, which is what you've been professing since I was called to be a reserve driver last season."

The room's atmosphere was tense, and neither of the twenty-year-olds knew how to proceed. Sebastian was tired not only of having to repeat the same story to Hanna a thousand times but also of her apparent lack of trust. On the other hand, Hanna had been trapped in a vicious circle of jealousy and envy for months, driven by the need to compete and prove herself better than a certain Diana, whom she didn't even know.

After a brief silence, Hanna finally spoke, trying to hide the idea that had come to her mind:

"I've thought about something..."

"What?" Sebastian looked at her with curiosity, a bit scared of what she might say.

Hanna faked a smile too well. Her eyes, however, betrayed her intentions, although Sebastian was too blinded and distracted to notice:

"Starting next season, I want to accompany you on some weekends, as long as the university allows it, of course," the driver was totally surprised by the girl's statement, who continued speaking. "I've been thinking that it would be nice to stop being so perfectionist in my studies to spend more time with you."

"Of course!" Seb exclaimed happily, giving her a hug, unaware that she was lying, despite knowing her so well. "Don't worry about anything. We can plan everything and find weeks when you don't have exams or any assignments to submit with Britta next week, okay? She already has the schedule for next year, and..."

Hanna nodded slightly, indifferent to the future damage she might cause to her, until then, boyfriend, who continued talking quite excitedly. She knew she wasn't behaving rationally, and envy was driving her actions, but why not? She had too often felt like the banished princess by her relatives, teachers, and people she had no relationship with, and the last thing she wanted was to relive that experience.

She loved Sebastian, and he loved her. Nothing and no one would stand in their way, and if she couldn't face the enemy with peace, she would try to do it with as little chaos as possible.

"I'm looking forward to you meeting Diana," Seb declared, causing a turmoil inside his girlfriend. "You'll get along well, I'm sure. You're more alike than you think."

"I'm also looking forward to meeting her, especially now that you told me she helped you win in Monza."

Hanna forced a smile, hiding her true feelings about the unknown woman. Sometimes, it was okay to be a little toxic to make your partner see reality, right?

Sebastian got closer to his girlfriend, placed his right hand on her face, caressing it gently, and kissed her on the lips. His eyes were fixed on hers, revealing nothing but sincerity.

"Hanna, you're the most important thing in my life, okay? There's nothing I haven't told you, and if something had happened, you'd know for sure," he clarified again. "You are my world and all I want is to be with you for as long as we allow ourselves to be together."

Hanna felt hurt and even guilty at that moment, regretting everything she had said without thinking, but it was too late to go back and repent. She tried, by all means, to set aside that kind of teenage game she had created consumed by wanting to prove to her boyfriend who she was, but she couldn't.

Now she had to try not to let herself be carried away and, above all, think before speaking and acting.

Without thinking, she pushed Sebastian as hard as she could, who raised himself a little above the surface to see what the blonde was going to do. She planted a rather aggressive kiss on her lips, and she lingered on it for a while before beginning to leave a trail of them from her mouth to her inguinal crease. She wanted to show the pilot many things, but in those moments she wanted to make him see that she was his.

Sebastian watched as Hanna began to take off his boxers and masturbate his member with her hand, taking it to her mouth a few seconds later. No matter how much pleasure he was feeling at that moment when he noticed how his girlfriend's tongue wrapped around his bud while she moved her hand incessantly, he couldn't help but feel bad when he wished, and even imagined, that Diana was the one doing that.

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theresattrpgforthat · 9 months

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Hello! I’ve been following you for a bit now, and all of your recommendations have been super cool and interesting! If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any recommendations for really long indie ttrpgs? One that could match the length of dnd or CoD books, I mean. The specifics don’t matter as much, I just really like sinking my teeth into long game books like that.

THEME: Long Indie Games

Hello friend! Fear not, I have a multitude of long indie games to recommend for you!

Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine, by Jenna Moran.

Length: 578 pages.

The Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG is the diceless RPG from Jenna Katerin Moran, author of the well-regarded Nobilis and an important contributor to Eos’ Weapons of the Gods and White Wolf’s Exalted RPG.

Chuubo’s is a special beast. I personally don’t know how one actually plays this game, but the book itself is fascinating to read. It has recognizable parts such as character skills, Health Levels, and XP, but I think I’d want to sit down with a physical copy to be able to properly read it and get a handle on how you play through a story. If you enjoy a challenge, or even just something enchanting and evocative, I’d recommend Chuubo’s.

Part-Time Gods, by Third Eye Games.

Length: 318 pages.

The gods of today are shadows of what the old gods possessed. Their power has been heavily diminished, and many choose to live a regular, mortal life, revealing themselves as gods only when absolutely necessary. The reason for this is twofold. First, fate doesn’t like it when the gods share their secrets with a mortal. Unless they are the god’s worshipper, terrible events and horrific accidents have a way of happening to the people closest to the god. Secondly, divine works attract creatures and monsters called Outsiders, created by the Source (after its capture) to destroy any god they encounter.

This is a game that’s on my TBR shelf - and it might stay there for a while, because this is another pretty lengthy book. I am very grateful for the index at the back of this book, because I think this would be pretty difficult to navigate. Part-Time Gods is set in the modern-day, but the premise behind your god-hood is very unique, so one of the first chapters is dedicated to telling you what exactly it means to be a part-time god, part-time taxpayer. The book also contains small pieces of prose set in the world, meant to give you a flavour of the genre and tone intended by the designer. I’m really interested in the concepts expressed in this game, and I hope I have enough brain space to read it in the future!

We Are All Mad Here, by Shanna Germain.

Length: 226 pages.

Jack climbing the beanstalk. The little mermaid finding her voice. Alice struggling with the madness of a place unruled by the laws of reality. The queen. The child. The woodsman. The knight. When you think about fairy tales, who do you become? Where does your imagination take you?

We Are All Mad Here is a tabletop game about fairytales and mental health, providing you with new options for the Cypher System while also creating a setting about visitors to a magical land called the Heartwood. In the fiction, only those who have had some kind of struggle that affects their mental health are able to travel to this magical land. Germain intends this to be a way to tell a narrative about mental health using allegory and metaphor. The Cypher system itself is pretty complex, and you probably won’t be able to play a game of We Are All Mad Here without the core rulebook, so it might be worth it to take a gander at the Cypher System Rulebook while you’re at it.

Coyote & Crow, by Connor Alexander.

Length: 484 pages.

More than 700 years ago, a massive disaster changed the course of history. The world was plunged into centuries of darkness, but the event also introduced the Adanadi — the Gift — a strange mark that appeared on all life. This mark would have an enduring impact on humanity. Centuries later, the Earth is healing. New, advanced nations have risen. Ancient legends stir.

Coyote & Crow is a pretty extensive and unique game, using pools of d12s pulled from your stats, as well as narrative beats such as character motivation, Gifts and Burdens to help give your character a personality. Because it introduces an alternate history and a drastically different future, the core book as a decent amount of lore to acquaint you with the city of Cahokia and the world that surrounds it.

This game has quite a bit of support out there, with adventures such as Stolen Heart, Laughter Lost & Found, and The Case of the Great Underwater Panther.

Impulse Drive, by Adrian Thoen.

Length: 242 pages.

Play a crew of misfits and scoundrels living a life of danger and adventure as they explore space and try to make their ship a home in a technicolor sea of stars. Fight dangerous organizations, investigate unnerving mysteries, and find trouble in a game that rewards you when your characters face their shortcomings. Grow your characters and ship with new gear and abilities as you discover and create the universe together, as a group.

For a PbtA game, Impulse Drive feels pretty substantial. It provides a quick primer on Powered by the Apocalypse games, and includes advice for the players as well as the GM. This might be because the game includes a lot of details about gear and vehicles, as this is a space game that cares what your party has on hand and what their ship can do. There’s also advice on changing the game, extra moves, and a roll table for mutations! If you’re looking to see how to play out a space adventure in a more narrative-focused system, you might want to check out this game!

The Shrike, by Alice the Candle.

Length: 162 pages.

The Shrike is a game about fantastical voyages aboard a skyship. It's inspired by Avery Alder's The Quiet Year, John Harper's Lady Blackbird, Italo Calvino, Ursula K. Le Guin, and utopian and dystopian fiction. It features four complete adventures (two multiplayer, two for solo play).

This indie game is on the short side of this list, but it’s definitely long by indie standards. The author has provided 4 different adventures that you can read through, which will likely spark your imagination along the way. Interestingly, the voyages are placed in the first half of the book, while the information about Solo, Co-operative. and Guided Play embody the second half of the book. I’m not sure how I feel about this layout choice, but if you’re mostly looking for a book that you can read, flipping through the voyages might be more interesting to you than the rules of play.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Lancer, by Massif Press. 431 pages.

The Wildsea, by Felix Isaacs. 364 pages.

Exceptionals, by Sahoni. 253 pages.

Gubat Banwa, by makpatatag. 399 pages.

Monster Care Squad, by Sandy Pug Games. 176 pages.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #asks #game recommendations #long games

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thenightmarketofdathomir · 18 days

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" I need three full days" had me 👀💦 mountain man take me by the hand! 😂

Oh my gosh and feral, the way you write him with that very natural rizz. I love it so much.

And maul. The way you write him is so deliciously dark and tempting. ❤️❤️❤️

I just hold my phone and swoon every time I read your work.

Compliments aren't necessary to get more work out of me, but occasionally it can be quite effective. Thanks for this.

A couple of scenarios I've thought about maybe a bit too much:

Three Brothers/Three Dates Pairings: Feral x Reader (gn), Savage Opress x Reader (gn), Maul x Reader (f!) Rating: Mature Warnings: Sexually suggestive/nothing explicit

Feral: Tell him something is forbidden and he'll make it his prerogative to investigate. He's not afraid to show you the former Nightsister Lair (boarded over), the broken altar (definitely off-limits), and the ring of tombs belonging to the former Mothers (decidedly not on the tourist brochure.) Says he'll keep you safe from the dark things that dwell beneath the mountain when he spreads out a romantic picnic, the light from the pools of ichor painting everything grey and green. Glow worms cling to the ceiling in the caves. It's quiet. It's private. It's just you two, alone in a place where only the bravest Nightbrothers bring their paramours for a little light necking. You nestle closer, certain he'll protect you, and you never mention a thing when he threads his fingers through yours -- even if they're sweating a little.

Savage: All about reviving Nightbrother culture in the aftermath of Maul's return. Traditionalist. Book of Shadows Thumper. Set on reclaiming everything that was lost "so that younger generations can learn from what we've endured." Knows every inch of Dathomir from the Dreaming River to the Whispering Caverns, up to the highest peaks where Gorgara once nested. Loves a stroll through places most treacherous -- the highest gorges, the steepest canyons -- mostly because he enjoys the feeling of your body pressed to his, breathless and dizzy from the view as you clutch at him. Savage likes holding your hand and helping you across the stones and broken trees that litter the forests, showing you the parts of his people's history that are still thriving despite all odds. It's part of him -- he says its transformative, and there's something magical in the way his firebright gaze catches the Domir's rays, overlooking it all with his arm around your waist. He sees Dathomir's potential. He believes in it with a fervour, and it's catching, because you can almost see his vision when he points out where he'll build your house someday -- right there in the valley of those mountains -- with his own two hands.

Maul: Has never been one for public displays, but like the shadow he is, the glide of his body around yours from engagement to conversation is a dance that leaves you dizzied with yearning for him -- and there's no question to whom you belong: he's never far, circling you like a binary star as the night's revels turn to enticements beyond the dining and the music and conversation. The syndicate presence on Dathomir offers many diversions, and it's not all work as one would have you believe. Evenings are for revelry as much as they are making new business dealings, enjoying the spoils of your efforts across the galaxy in secrecy. And he is the perfect consort: swathed in black fineries that reveal his Nightbrother markings. Long robes and a trim waist, and you are dressed to match him -- a subconscious effort to claim your place at his side, perhaps, but it's his penumbral presence that really stakes a claim. Those small gestures and possessive touches to your elbow, your shoulder, the small of your back as the night falls over the mountains are the most telling -- leaving you firebright with wanting when the graze of fingertips across your palm turn teasing, his breath on the back of your neck, his murmured promises for later when you'll be alone with him once more. No one dares interrupt your private tete a tetes between flutes of champagne, and yet everyone notices the way his gaze smoulders when he watches you take little sips of that sparkling liquid -- as if he knows intimately the feeling of such a tender press of flesh to something so cold and unyielding.

#if Feral's palms are sweating it's because of you.#get it? see what I did there? yup.#feral opress #feral opress x reader #feral orpess x you #feral (star wars)#feral (star wars) x reader #darth maul #savage opress #darth maul x reader #savage opress x reader #darth maul x you #maul x you #maul x reader

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just-your-average-cryptid · 7 months

Text

Hey, tumblr witchy ppl and fellow Cool Rock Enjoyers. I got a PSA for y’all.

Do not trust any place selling raw quartz for a two - and esp not a THREE - digit number.

Here’s why:

Bit of background, I’m a mineral and crystal fan who likes having Shiny Rocks in my crow hoard. I am also a bit cheap. I don’t get something I like if I feel the price is ridiculous, unless under very specific circumstances.

Now, most people know what quartz is. It’s extremely common compared to other crystals and relatively easy to obtain, but doing so is difficult enough that most people will just buy it from someone else. But it’s really easy to find quartz if you know where to look.

Because of that, I have a rule that any shop selling a piece of quartz smaller than my palm for more than $3-5 is not worth my time or cash. Please, do not buy a tiny bit of raw quartz for $10 from a fancy crystal shop, it’s not worth it. And if they’re charging that for quartz, everything else is probably overpriced too.

(Note that this is specifically about raw quartz - if it’s been cut or sculpted into a certain shape, I’m more willing to pay extra for the craftsmanship. That’s different.)

And for fluffs sake don’t spend a thousand dollars on Etsy quartz my god. I don’t care how big it is or what special markings it has it is not worth nearly that much.

Quick guide that I personally follow, set your own limits as you wish:

Can be carried by a few fingers: $1-3

Fits in palm: $3-7 depending on size

One-hand grip: $7-15 depending on size/shape

Two-hand grip or larger: $15+

Again, this is specific to raw quartz, quartz that was picked up off the ground and put up for sale, not anything that’s been cut or sculpted. If it’s more than $30 it better be fluffing massive. No one should fork over $15-20 for quartz that fits in your hand, that’s just not right.

If you want an alternative that’s less likely to overcharge you, the best thing I can think of rn is a natural history museum or something similar. Full disclosure, I’ve only been to a couple, but they usually have a section for small crystals and minerals that are a few bucks each. Affordable, quality, and supporting a valuable public service - I’ll take that over an overpriced shop any day.

#it speaks #crystals #witchblr #minerals #decided to check out a crystal shop in a mall and they wanted me to pay $15 for THAT?!? that little thing? no #don’t waste your money kids it’s not worth it #I’m not a Crystal Person but I’m adjacent enough to those spaces to feel offended for them about this #seriously do not pay that much for a small piece of quartz no matter what #you deserve better than that

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isa-ghost · 27 days

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Could I mayhaps have some hc!philza headcanons? Could be him in his hardcore, or how his time in hardcorr affects him now maybe? :D

OUGH YES.

So these will be operating off the theory that qPhil is hcPhil with his memory fucked up by the Federation. I'm gonna aim for "pre island, this is how qPhil was" but we'll see what happens as I actually write these LOL

What if I call these Pre-Dilf Edition in the masterlist SKFJSKFJSKFHF

10/10 would read the hardcore deity set I did recently to go with these :D

qPhil headcanons masterlist

He either had a flawless sleep schedule (early to bed early to rise ass mf) or no sleep schedule at all (spending 3+ nights hyperfocused on smth). It made for a very loopy Phil sometimes, which his murder of crows very much enjoyed

This man can fit so much joy and whimsy in him. Everything is awesome, everything is a breathtaking work of art and everything is decades of rich history to uncover. He loves life, he loves the passage of time, he loves teaching the murder about what he finds & restores

That's his main hobby besides being a survivalist, restoration and an informal form of archiving. He sketches the builds, takes notes on the deities, adds his own little touches to each place to make it a little prettier

He could fly for hours. Sometimes he'd fly aimlessly into late into the night, too immersed in sight-seeing and chatting with the murder

He had little altars in Flowerfall, Nether Void & Greater Spawn Islands for OO, BE, and Rose respectively. He'd leave little shiny things, trinkets that made him think of them, offerings like cooked fish or blaze rods or flowers in little offering bowls. Just as a nice, more direct way of giving them thanks for creating something so beautiful and allowing him to restore it to its former glory

He fucking loves swimming and fishing and hanging out at Endlantis, he'd just very aggressively avoid the cave that is EK's tomb. It was extremely haunted, he never got good vibes down there

He sometimes considers making his own remarkable build as a sort of "I was here, I too am a mark upon this history" but looks at his house and is like "mmmmbetter not" (he's an idiot, he could 100% build something cool, just probably not on the scale of the builds the gods have created. He'd probably create it for Goddess of Death, not even himself 💀)

Obligatory gapple addiction mention. It didn't start because of the murder, but he definitely used them as an excuse to further indulge once he started devoting eating one to the crows who'd been in the murder for a year. He never really had a reason to quit, or worry about the addiction, so he never experienced negative effects from it. Gapples aren't exactly harmful, just.. tinged with just enough magic to infect the brain. (He never experienced withdrawal misery on QI bc the Feds wiped his memory so his body had no idea it should be having a bitch fit =) )

Semi-related, he loved the days where he and the murder lacked the motivation and focus to do restoration things so they'd just fuck off in a random direction for ages and go on loot sprees. Nothing more exciting than hunting for more god apples :D

He started out liking fishing. The murder got too obsessed and it became the bane of his existence. But he loves the murder, so he does it anyway. Besides, he wouldn't trade chill talks with them for the world. :')

Btw he doesn't know this but it was equal parts the Ender King & the Feds ripping rifts between the universes that got him caught and taken to QI. EK didn't plan for that to happen, he just wanted to escape to a new reality to find a vessel to come back to power. Which is why once Phil was on the island, EK went "Fuck it, I'll use that asshole since he's not only compatible, but from the same plane of existence"

Mobs never scared him much (except Enderman) despite the fact that they were very dangerous and he's a survivalist. He was practically a mob whisperer, it's how he trapped trophy ones, made certain farms and why he was 99% fearless when farming charged creepers. QI has so many mobs he's never seen in his life that his chill instincts are suddenly like AAAWTFWTF

He never felt truly alone despite being the only humanoid. He felt like Rose was always with him, very rarely OO, and the murder ofc. He could understand them and he'd talk to them all day every day. Not only that, he had pets like Pog and Champ and there were quite a few times he'd humanize inanimate objects, which scientifically helps keep you sane in isolation such as survival. He always felt like he had Something to socialize with

That said, he IS still a bit weird socially on the island. Socializing with humans is way different than crows, other animals, gods, and objects.

Btw Ian is God of Chaos (a lesser god like Goddess of Death) and other mods like Birder, D3 & Wolfy are notably larger or perhaps a different species of corvid that hang out among the murder :D

#qsmp #qsmp philza #philza #q!philza #qphil headcanons #hardcore season 4

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teecupangel · 6 months

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I have been thinking what about if Desmond turned into a Pegasus, a Hippogriff or even better a Griffin. I just really like the image of Desmond's ancestors riding into battle or just flat out jumps from Desmond's back mid flight leap of faith style.

To be honest I like Griffin Desmond more. The combination of bird of prey and big feline is just so fitting for the Assassin's Brotherhood. Aerial superiority plus the stealth agility and flexibility of a cat. Plus imagine Altaïr finding cub Desmond during AC1 and thinking he is just a cat sized chubby ball of fluff that can fly and claw at the enemies faces (and also curl up with him at night and purr, Desmond's feathers and fur are very soft). Then fast forward a few years where baby is all grown up, can claw through steel and armor, is bigger than most horses and capable of easily carrying two people comfortably on his back and still have space for a third (that doesn't stop Desmond from sleeping in Altaïr's bed much to Altaïr's delight displeasure).

Also could put some AltMal in there with cub Desmond helping mend their relationship (Kadar is alive because I said so, maybe he saved him at the cave). And bringing those two for a nice flight.

Desmond goes down in Assassin history as a legendary creature whose chosen rider/companion goes on to do great things.

I wrote a pegasus idea but I can’t seemed to find it :(

I think I also wrote Griffin version but I’m soooo unsure so… have this little scene instead? XD

It was the sounds of quick feet hastily walking away that alerted him.

Altaïr raised his head and placed the quill back to the small ink bottle next to the journal he had been writing on, the two pages filled with the ongoing designs for Desmond’s armor with notes all over concerning the materials and possible alternatives.

He stood and waited for Malik to open the door to reach the mentor’s office from the second floor of the main keep. Altaïr kept his face blank, observing Malik’s face.

He was frowning with lips set on a grim line.

But his eyes did not bore any darkness nor blaze.

So… annoyed but not murderous or angry.

Altaïr could work with that.

… he just have to find out what he did wrong this time before Malik’s annoyance boiled into anger.

“Malik…” Altaïr greeted cautiously with a nod.

“Follow me.”

With that said, Malik walked out of the office and Altaïr grabbed the journal, not wishing it to be seen by anyone. He kept it open though because of the ink but followed Malik quietly, ignoring the way the other Assassins and scholars rushed (while walking) out of their way.

Malik led him to their private quarters and Altaïr was trying to remember if he had forgotten something.

Did he leave books haphazardly again?

No.

Altaïr was sure all the books had been organized this morning. He hadn’t even touched any of them, having been woken up by Kadar before dawn because of a new merchant who thought he could pull a fast one on Kadar with the absurd prices he had set for supplies.

Well…

Kadar was the reason why he had woken up but it was Kadar’s assistant, a young Assassin who had to leave the field due to a severe injury, that had woke him up and begged him to intervene before Kadar pushed the merchant off the fortress wall and make it look like an accident.

… not that it ever happened before.

Was it because Altaïr left in a hurry with no time to-

No.

Malik wouldn’t be annoyed by something so small.

They entered the room and Malik led him to…

Ah.

“Care you tell me about your bedwarmer when I’m not here?” Malik asked dryly.

To anyone else, they would probably assume Malik thought Altaïr had been spending the night with another behind his back.

But…

Desmond stared at them, wings twitching slightly as he remained curled on the bed, currently in disarray with feathers all over.

One of the pillows (the blue one that no one really uses anyway) had been eviscerated, its guts flowing out from the telltale talon marks.

“I can explain.” Altaïr started.

It was bound to happen.

Malik didn’t know that Desmond would come into their room and sleep with Altaïr whenever he was away.

Altaïr wasn’t even sure if Desmond did it to comfort Altaïr or if he wanted some comfort but it had been a habit they formed since he found Desmond as a cub, so small he could fit in one of Altaïr’s arms effortlessly.

Malik raised an eyebrow as he said, “Alright, I’m listening.”

Desmond slowly got up and tried to make himself look small (a fruitless effort considering his actual size) while crawling towards the now open door.

“Desmond.”

Desmond froze at the sound of Malik’s voice.

“Stay.”

Desmond stared at Altaïr, his big eyes seemingly becoming bigger, glistening with plea.

Altaïr turned his eyes away.

Desmond made an almost clicking sound before walking towards Altaïr, going on his haunches next to him.

“Well…” Malik glared at Altaïr, “Go ahead, Altaïr.”

Altaïr stared at Malik and wondered.

… what the hell was he supposed to explain?

#desmond is a griffin #desmond is like half a pet and half a brother to altaïr #altaïr always cleaned up after desmond sleeps with him #desmond needs altaïr to open the door for him #otherwise he might just ram it #i just realized that if one doesn’t remember desmond is a griffin in this one #this entire idea feels more soap opera drama lol #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #malik al sayf #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #altmal

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soob1nn · 5 months

Text

MY FILMS - ADULT FAME DR

REMINDER! I haven’t shifted yet, so all these is just my imagination 🤍

masterlist - main masterlist

Films are a powerful medium of storytelling and artistic expression. Combining visual, auditory, and narrative elements, films captivate audiences, transporting them to diverse worlds, evoking emotions, and sparking thought. From silent classics to cutting-edge blockbusters, the world of cinema has evolved, reflecting societal changes and pushing creative boundaries. Whether it's the magic of a well-crafted screenplay, the mesmerizing performances of actors, or the technical brilliance behind the scenes, films continue to be a dynamic and influential form of entertainment and cultural expression.

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN

The "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga is a cinematic adventure like no other, immersing audiences in a world of high-seas exploits, swashbuckling action, and supernatural wonders. This beloved franchise, brought to life by the charismatic Captain Jack Sparrow, has left an indelible mark on the world of cinema.

What sets the "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga apart is its perfect fusion of thrilling action and cleverly woven mythology. From the very first installment, "The Curse of the Black Pearl," to subsequent sequels, the films have taken viewers on a journey filled with cursed treasures, mythical creatures, and, of course, eccentric pirates.

At the heart of the saga is the enigmatic Captain Jack Sparrow, portrayed brilliantly by Johnny Depp. Jack's witty charm, unpredictable antics, and ever-present quest for rum have made him an iconic character in cinematic history.

The franchise's success also lies in its ability to seamlessly blend history and fantasy. The Caribbean settings, the pirate code, and the age of exploration provide a historically rich backdrop for the fantastical elements like cursed Aztec gold, undead sailors, and mermaids.

Each film in the series has introduced new characters and expanded upon the lore, creating a vast and interconnected narrative that keeps fans eagerly awaiting the next installment.

With unforgettable moments, memorable quotes, and a score that resonates long after the credits roll, the "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga has carved its place as a beloved classic. It's a thrilling voyage into the world of pirates, where legends, curses, and epic battles reign, making it a timeless adventure that continues to captivate audiences of all ages.

BEAUTY OF THE BEAST

"Beauty and the Beast," in its live-action adaptation, breathes new life into a timeless tale that has enchanted generations. This magical film takes the beloved animated classic and transforms it into a visually stunning and emotionally captivating experience.

Set in a picturesque French village, the story follows the intelligent and kind-hearted Belle, brilliantly portrayed by Emma Watson, who longs for more than the provincial life she leads. When her father becomes a prisoner in the enchanted castle of the Beast, played by Dan Stevens, Belle courageously takes his place, embarking on a journey of discovery, love, and the power of inner beauty.

With its stunning visual effects, lavish costumes, and memorable musical score, the live-action "Beauty and the Beast" faithfully pays homage to the original while adding depth to its characters and narrative. The film not only celebrates the power of love but also explores themes of tolerance, acceptance, and the beauty that lies within.

This enchanting adaptation is a cinematic masterpiece that captures the hearts of both long-time fans and new audiences, reaffirming the enduring power of this classic tale as old as time. "Beauty and the Beast" in its live-action form invites us to be their guest in a world where magic and love flourish, reminding us that beauty truly comes from within.

LITTLE WOMEN

"Little Women" stands as a cinematic jewel, capturing the timeless essence of Louisa May Alcott's literary masterpiece. This film adaptation, directed by Greta Gerwig, breathes new life into the beloved narrative of the March sisters, presenting a fresh and poignant take on sisterhood, ambition, and the pursuit of one's dreams.

Set against the backdrop of the American Civil War, "Little Women" unfolds the lives of the four March sisters—Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy—each with distinctive personalities and aspirations. The film gracefully weaves between the past and present, allowing audiences to witness the joys and challenges of the sisters as they navigate the trials of womanhood, love, and societal expectations.

With an all-star cast featuring Winter Reed Jackman, Emma Watson, Florence Pugh, and Eliza Scanlen as the March sisters, and an exceptional performance by Timothée Chalamet as Laurie, the film brings these iconic characters to life with depth and authenticity.

Greta Gerwig's directorial prowess shines through as she infuses "Little Women" with a contemporary spirit, resonating with modern audiences while maintaining the timeless charm of the original story. The film is a celebration of the strength, resilience, and individuality of women, urging viewers to embrace their ambitions and forge their paths.

"Little Women" is a poignant and visually captivating cinematic journey that captures the spirit of sisterhood and the pursuit of one's aspirations. It invites audiences to revisit the cherished tale with fresh eyes, offering a profound and emotionally resonant experience for both new and devoted fans of this literary classic.

KNIVES OUT

"Knives Out" is a modern masterpiece in the realm of whodunits, a brilliantly crafted film that masterfully blends mystery, humor, and a star-studded ensemble cast. Directed by Rian Johnson, this murder-mystery film takes audiences on a rollercoaster ride of suspense, twists, and dark humor.

The story centers around the death of wealthy crime novelist Harlan Thrombey, portrayed by Christopher Plummer. When renowned detective Benoit Blanc, played by Daniel Craig, is enlisted to investigate, the Thrombey family becomes the focal point of scrutiny. With each member harboring secrets and motives, the plot thickens, and the suspense escalates.

"Knives Out" boasts a stellar cast including Daniel Craig, Winter Reed Jackman, Chris Evans, Jamie Lee Curtis, and more, each delivering standout performances that contribute to the film's gripping atmosphere. The narrative is cleverly layered, keeping viewers on the edge of their seats as they attempt to unravel the intricate web of deception and motive.

Beyond its gripping storyline, "Knives Out" is a sharp and satirical take on family dynamics, privilege, and the consequences of wealth. Rian Johnson's expert direction and sharp dialogue elevate the film, making it a delightful homage to classic whodunits while infusing it with a contemporary edge.

This cinematic gem not only keeps the audience guessing until the very end but also provides a fresh and entertaining perspective on the murder mystery genre. "Knives Out" is a clever and stylish film that engages the mind, tickles the funny bone, and ultimately leaves a lasting impression, establishing itself as a standout in the pantheon of modern cinema.

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

"Top Gun: Maverick" is a highly anticipated sequel that soars into the iconic world of fighter jets and high-stakes aerial combat. Directed by Joseph Kosinski and starring Tom Cruise reprising his role as Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, this film is a thrilling continuation of the 1986 classic, "Top Gun."

Set decades after the events of the original film, Captain Maverick finds himself adapting to a new era of aerial warfare dominated by drone technology. As he mentors a new generation of Top Gun graduates, the film promises heart-pounding dogfights, cutting-edge aviation sequences, and a nostalgic nod to the beloved elements that made the first film an enduring favorite.

"Top Gun: Maverick" not only reintroduces fans to the adrenaline-fueled world of fighter pilots but also introduces fresh faces played by actors like Miles Teller and Winter Reed Jackman. With its combination of high-octane action and character-driven storytelling, the film aims to capture the spirit of the original while propelling the narrative into uncharted skies.

As Maverick confronts his past and embraces the challenges of the future, the film offers a blend of nostalgia and innovation, promising an exhilarating cinematic experience for both longtime fans and a new generation of moviegoers. "Top Gun: Maverick" is poised to be a blockbuster that reignites the Maverick legend while delivering a visual spectacle that takes the iconic franchise to new heights.

THE SEVEN HUSBANDS OF EVELYN HUGO

"The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" unfolds on the silver screen as a spellbinding cinematic journey through the glitz and glamour of Hollywood's Golden Age. Adapted from Taylor Jenkins Reid's compelling novel, this film invites audiences into the captivating life story of Evelyn Hugo, a legendary film actress portrayed with brilliance and nuance.

In the film, we follow Evelyn's journey through the decades, beautifully capturing the essence of old Hollywood. The glamorous sets, meticulously crafted costumes, and evocative cinematography transport viewers to a bygone era where stars shone brightly on and off the screen.

As the narrative unfolds, the complexities of Evelyn’s seven marriages come to life, each husband portrayed by a stellar cast that adds depth to the character-driven drama. The film navigates the twists and turns of Evelyn’s life, revealing secrets, scandals, and the sacrifices made in the pursuit of fame and love.

The storytelling prowess of Taylor Jenkins Reid is masterfully translated to the screen, with Evelyn's compelling voice narrating her journey. The film seamlessly weaves together themes of identity, love, and the price of success, creating an emotional tapestry that resonates with audiences.

While exploring the intricacies of Evelyn's life, the film introduces Monique Grant, the journalist chosen by Evelyn to tell her story. Monique's personal journey becomes an integral part of the cinematic narrative, adding layers of depth and connection to the overarching tale.

"The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" on the big screen is more than a glamorous expose of Hollywood excess; it's a poignant exploration of the human experience. The film's rich storytelling, combined with outstanding performances and lush visuals, elevates it beyond a mere adaptation, making it a cinematic triumph that lingers in the hearts of viewers long after the final credits roll.

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