#i'm trying my best but maybe i can do more

[bleuberries-and-video-games]

I can tell you this first hand, even the people who are fighting, they're doing it running ragged. Double that for anyone who's like a marginalized identity targeted explicitly by him, I know trans people who are burning the candle at both ends, myself included, to create support groups, networks of aid, any kind of shit just to keep going and to maintain any sort of equilibrium and even make ends meet. I'm very fortunate to have the job I have, I don't know if I will have it forever, as my job does kind of require or rely upon Federal and local government grants and the state of Missouri is not exactly a very kind place right now to trans people.

Not only that, but also like, I would like to explain to anyone from outside of the United States what the United States is like, because I don't think any of you understand what it's like. I think you see New York and la and maybe Austin Texas and maybe Portland oregon, or God forbid any one of the places where there's like a Disney theme park that some of y'all go to, but like those are really big economically beautiful and thriving places. That means they look picturesque, that means they look like America is fine and thriving, but I can assure you that is not the case for a number of different groups and people and places. Hell even in those places I've listed, there are issues you can see on a day-to-day basis that you wouldn't normally see just touring.

The vast majority of the United States, for the vast part of its history, has been some kind of police state with some kind of hyper regulatory body enforcing some kind of morally tied laws. From cross-dressing laws, to race mixing laws, to laws disparaging and maintaining women's oppression, to the very fact that if you didn't own land for a large part of this country's history, you didn't have any sort of power. At all. This means that you are beholden to a capitalistic class that has grown more and more powerful as time has gone on. America is not a shining City on hill and has never been a shining City on a hill, it has always been this place that has been propped up by capitalism, and always had a bunch of people that are sitting in the periphery and which makes the majority of the capital but doesn't see a dime of it. If you think that this is suddenly abnormal, that we went from voting for Obama to voting for the orange dweeb, you're a fucking idiot. You're not paying attention. You're so wrapped up in economic and social nationalism for your countries, thinking about how much better your Society is in contrast and trying desperately to figure out what went wrong™ in America that you forget fascism starts when you start drawing heavy borders and when you start thinking about us versus them. Everyone in the entire world is beholden and capable of doing fascism. I mean it fucking started in Europe for God's sake, Europe is not this enlightened Center of cultural good, for a long time it was very regressive and stifling, and it is only a recent part of History in which that has not been the case. And didn't even more recent history, you have benefited off of economic booms and trade Partnerships that have basically dissolved orders that once caused decades-long escalating conflicts that almost entirely destroyed the world. This is not an accident, this happens because of the economic powers that be, this is because of capitalism, and this is specifically because we have still not addressed the issues that plague the world.

We are trying our very best to do what we can to fight what we can and protect what we can. But when the majority of the country has been getting increasingly economically disparate, when police get more funding than schools, when the military is all over the world working with allies and toppling Nations or propping up proxy states, when all of our money goes to defense contractors or contracted Federal businesses run or cut to Pieces by private Equity firms, there's not a whole lot many people can do, and the more marginalized you are, the more Afflicted and affected by different issues in the world you are, the harder it is for you to do something. And yet I know some people who do stuff, who do fight, who fucking have to walk with a cane or crutches, who struggle to breathe or struggle to go anywhere, who don't have cars, and they still manage to go to meetings, work with organizations, and they're trying, they're God damn trying.

You see the problem is for the last 40 fucking years, the media apparatus that the United States runs, CNN and fox news, have accelerated the concept of propaganda in America from something that is a lot more decentralized and region specific, into this National Force that basically tells the world what America thinks. The issue is? Neither CNN nor Fox news, nor HLN, the Oprah Winfrey channel, cbs, abc, nbc, or Comedy Central really represent the American people and their opinions. A number of these nationally syndicated television shows and news programs have to water down a lot of perspectives, and they often dehumanize, Rob The Voice of, or just genuinely ignore very necessary issues. This is also because of the fairness doctrine, a standard that guaranteed the news would be a certain way, was abolished around the time that CNN and Fox News started taking off.

So not only were you getting watered down, oftentimes nationalized opinions, there was no alternative perspectives and there was no way to tell who thought what and why. And so pretty much the entire world and anyone who watches CNN and Fox News has just assumed that's what Americans think, when in reality we are very much skeptical and very much frustrated with what either program says, and by extension a lot of other media companies. We have watched and tried very actively to stop the monopolization of our media, but we are pretty much helpless to stop it because there's not a lot of avenues we can take especially the worse and worse things get.

You have to stop thinking of America in terms of the prosperity that is projected on television and by a bunch of places for touristic means, you have to start thinking about it in terms of the places that you don't see, you have to start thinking about it as a sort of oligarchic dictatorship that has traded hands over and over again for the last several decades to financially benefit a bunch of dick heads at the top of the hierarchy. Those same Financial dick heads go and explore the world, prop up and collaborate with different financially powerful individuals, and maintain the conflicts and oppression that run the world. Ever since the fall of the Berlin wall, and even since before that point, America has had pretty much free reign with little opposition to do a bunch of bullshit like that.

All the while a lot of it citizens suffer, a lot of them are compulsory forced to serve in the military in order to get the bare minimum amount of college, medical care, and so on, which creates a massive benefit to the military industrial complex, and by extension ships are troops all over the world to help our allies supposedly defend themselves, when in actuality all it's doing is just legitimizing and continuing the cycle of financial destruction.

What I'm trying to say is you have to stop thinking of America in terms of what you see in the media and start looking at America in terms of what you hear from people around here, and more importantly you have to talk to people who are not kissing the ass of government or posting rampant conspiracism. You have to talk to regular citizens and actually get a gauge on what it's like living in both middle and wider range America. I would love for California and New York to be the emblematic representation of america, I would love for the media and ideas you see and engage with to be true, but it's not and it can't be.

America has never been this prosperous giant, it has been a testing ground for the extent of which capitalism can be abusive and get away with it. It is always been that way. You can ask however it got to this point, and I will point to the Civil War and say it was always this way.

It was always about maintaining indentured servitude, always about maintaining disparity and destruction and oppression, and basically from the beginning America has constantly been founded by and sustained by consistent and perfect PR spins. Liberty and justice for all? Or for a bunch of guys who own land? Yes you can change it, but you don't change it by simple votes. All of the Amendments that have giving us rights and changes that have made the country supposedly better have been paid for in blood, and almost all of them have been subverted by a bunch of movements antithetical to their existence simply because a group of people didn't like being told what to do. We are trying our very goddamn best. Please know that the media lies to you, please know that our government lies to you, please know that everything you hear about us is likely some kind of fabrication meant to maintain some kind of facade to get you to believe bullshit. To make you think that we're complaining with this. To make you think that we wanted this. We didn't. Those of us who did? I guarantee you are in the minority. I know they are in the minority.

For those outside of America going "why don't you fight back" or "don't you guys know what's going on?" let me explain something to you.

We know.

There is nothing a lot of us can do right now.

We are either minorities surrounded by Trump supporters or struggling to make ends meet or (most likely) both.

These first few days are designed to exhaust us. It's the same tactic he used during his first administration. Overwhelm the media and the masses so that the more sinister things he does gets swept under the rug.

And honestly, a lot of us are checked out because we spent the last four years warning people about a second term because our lives were on the line and those we thought cared about us proved they didn't.

And now we're just trying to find some sort of semblance of happiness in this joyless world we're now living in. We fight when we can, we bring attention to what we can, but a lot of us are just fucking exhausted.

So please, cut us some slack. We've been fighting for the last eight years, we still have to fight for the next four.

Right now, survival is the only rebellion we have.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (50/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Reunited.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of fingering and cunnilingus), alcohol consumption, fluff and angst and everything in between

Word Count: 4.7k

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A/N: this is part one of the dream I had over two years ago. I'm so proud of what the story has turned into. I love you so much. feedback is appreciated!

Charles: I can’t wait to have you back in my arms tomorrow evening. 

You smile at your phone, fuzzy blanket tucked underneath your chin and feet resting comfortably in Kikas lap. 

You: Next time you go to training camp, I’ll come with you. Take some professional pictures for your Instagram like my job description says. 

Charles: And here I thought you liked the picture I sent you. It‘s not really professional, but I gave my absolute best. 

He gave his absolute best, indeed. Even though the both of you didn’t text that much in the last few days, he made sure to send you a picture of him in case you miss his face. Even though his face wasn’t visible at all in the photo that showed his abs, boxer briefs and thighs.  

Not that you’d ever complain about that. 

You: I loved the photo. 

Charles: Next time I’ll let you take those pictures of me. But maybe with you in them as well. 

You: Is that an offer to sit in your lap again?

You press the send button and put your phone back next to you on the couch, gaze now fixed on the TV. It’s a re-run from Vampire Daries, the episode where it shows that Damon met Elena first. It’s one of your best friends favorites. 

When your phone lights up again, you take a look at the message that popped up on your lockscreen. 

Charles: As long as you’re naked.

You raise your eyebrows at the blunt text, blood rushing to your ears as you stare at your phone. The last few days consisted of quick good mornings, tired good nights and longing I miss yous but this – this makes you hot and bothered. 

A promise of what he’ll do to you once the both of you are back home. 

Charles: I really can’t wait to start the new year with you by my side. 

How can he go from a text that makes you wet to one that makes your heart skip a beat? You purse your lips and smile at your phone. 

„What are you smiling at?“, the Portugese woman asks, hand in a bowl of popcorn. With one inelegant move she grabs as much popcorn as possible and shoves it into her waiting mouth. 

„I’m not smiling“, you lie, grabbing your wine glass from the coffee table and taking a sip. You’re hit with a few popcorn pieces. „Hey! What –„

„Don’t lie to me, querida“, Kika grins. „I may have already had three glasses of wine, but I’m not stupid.“ She raises her eyebrow, waiting for you to answer, even though she already knows the answer to her question. 

You toss her your phone and, like the best friend she is, she unlocks your phone with your pin. Your chat with Charles pops up immediately. “The last message,” you say, and Kika reads the chat carefully. When you remind her that you only want her to see the last message, she sighs. 

“You two are even worse than Pierre and I when we're apart,” she jokes, slowly scrolling up. "It almost hurts how sappy it is." At one message, she throws her head back and laughs before looking at you with a pout. “'I miss you so much it hurts,'” she reads Charles' message from last night. 

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance. ‘I know what it says.’ You lean forward and try to get your phone back, but Kika is faster than you and turns away. 

“'Just one more sleepless night and then I'll finally have you back again.' My goodness.” Kika breathes out heavily. "I should show your chat to Pierre. He could definitely learn something from your sentimental messages.”

“Kika,’ you warn her, putting your glass back on the table and watching her scroll on.

“'The bed is so empty without you,'“ the brunette continues. ‘’When I'm with you again, I'll keep you in bed and taste your body until –”'”

“Okay, that's enough.” You grab your phone in a flash and sit on it so Kika doesn't get the temptation to take it from you. Blood rushes to your cheeks – and the warmth in your face is definitely not coming from the alcohol. 

“Spicy texts,” she grins, raising her wine glass in a toast to you. "I wouldn't have thought of you as the kind of people who sext each other."

You take the bowl of popcorn and pop a piece into your mouth. ”We don't sext.”

Kika purses her lips into a narrow line and raises her eyebrows. “That didn't sound at all like it. I was scared I was going to come across a nude photo of one of you two.”

You throw a piece of popcorn at her. "There are no nudes, Kika." At least none where either of you is really naked. 

“Phew. Thank God,” she grins and takes a sip of wine. She draws it through her teeth once before swallowing. Her gaze is curious when you look at her. ”I thought you two hadn't had sex yet. At least that was the case a few days ago. Did I miss something?”

You shake your head. “We haven't had sex.”

“But you've already kissed.” When your gaze wanders from her to the TV, she sits up a little straighter. She puts her glass down with a cool expression on her face to place her hands on your ankles. Her eyebrows raised, she looks at you in surprise. “Don't tell me –”

“We haven't kissed yet,” you quietly confirm her thought, as if you didn't dare to say the fact that you both have done a lot together, but haven't kissed yet. 

Somehow the sentence leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

Kika reaches for the remote and pauses the episode before turning back to you. “Why not, if I may ask? I mean...” She pauses to think about how to phrase her sentence without offending you. “Your texts are not exactly G-rated.”

You roll a piece of popcorn between your thumb and index finger. “If I knew, I would tell you,” you reply, examining the snack in your fingers as if it contained all the answers you need to define your relationship – or whatever it is between Charles and you. 

The Portuguese woman purses her lips. “But – you want to kiss him, don't you? Or don't you want tiramisu anymore?”

You shrug. "Nothing has changed." You exhale quietly. "Absolutely nothing.”

Kika tilts her head and looks at you. "That's the problem, isn't it?”

You sit up straight, too, placing the bowl of popcorn between your crossed legs. “It's weird. It is weird, isn't it? We – after the party, when Charles practically dragged me out of the club, he –” You take a deep breath and try to sort out your thoughts so as not to jump from topic to topic. You run your fingers through your hair. “We didn't kiss. He fingered and ate me out, but when I tried to get close to him and touch him, he blocked me. Which is fine in itself – but I –”

Kika, noticing your frustration, grabs your hand and squeezes it gently. “You don't know exactly where you stand,” she finishes your sentence. 

You breathe out and nod slightly. “I mean – isn't it strange that he wants my body but doesn't kiss me? Or doesn't let me touch him? Kissing is actually something you normally do before – before all the other things.”

Your best friend licks her lips. ”Actually, yes.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I didn't sleep with Raphael back then because I didn't feel safe in the relationship – and my gut feeling definitely didn't deceive me.” You shake your head slightly. “And now, with Charles, I feel safe. But he –”

Annoyed by the situation, you close your eyes and lean back against the armrest, putting your forearm over your face. You feel bad that you want to rip Charles' clothes off and kiss him until you can't breathe anymore when he obviously doesn't want it. 

Or rather – wants something else. Unfortunately, you don't know what exactly. 

“Hey.” Kika's voice is gentle as she strokes the back of your hand with her thumb. ”You two have only known each other for – what – two weeks? You were forced to be roommates before you were even friends. It's only natural that your dynamic would change.” She slides a little closer to you on the couch. “From the beginning, you were destined to be more than just people sharing an apartment. I saw that the very first night we met.”

You remember the dinner very clearly. When Charles was so rude to you because he had spoken to Annika, but you two had made up again. When you shared the tiramisu – the tiramisu that became synonymous with the attraction between you and the Monegasque between you and Kika. When you touched for the first time – only through your clothes, but you could still feel the warmth of his skin. 

She purses her lips into a narrow line. “It was obvious from the start that there was more between you. Even if you couldn't admit it to each other back then.” She tilts her head. “Why do you think Charles wasn't so thrilled that you got along so well with Lando right away?”

You mumble through your arm. “When he came back from Maranello, he explained that he was jealous of our friendship and worried that we – Lando and I – might become a couple and we – Charles and I – would no longer be friends.”

“Bullshit.” Kika's voice sounds cutting. 

Confused, you sit up and look at her, your arm falling into your lap. “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit,” the Portuguese woman repeats. “You're right that Charles was jealous, definitely. Even the people on the other side of the table could see that. But not about your friendship with Lando. But because you got along so fabulously within a few hours that Lando knew exactly what you definitely wouldn't eat off the menu.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “We talked about it when we ran into each other at the supermarket and he helped me find the groceries,” you explain to her, as if you had to justify yourself. 

Kika gently pats your hand. “It doesn't matter where or when you talked about it,” she says at some point. “Someone you only knew for a few hours knew something about you that your roommate should have known. And you'd only known Charles for a few days, had argued twice, and then there was someone else who got along with you so well from the start and made you laugh?” She shakes her head slightly. "Charles was never jealous of your relationship with Lando and the possibility that he might lose you as a friend because of it.”

You're at a loss. "Then what?”

Your best friend takes a deep breath. “He was jealous that Lando took his chance before he did. His chance to be closer to you than mere friendship would allow.” She squeezes your hand again. “Charles definitely feels more for you than friendship, querida. And everyone except you can see it.”

You look at her, raising your eyebrow. “Did he tell you that? Or Pierre?”

Kika presses her tongue into her cheek. “No, but –”

“You see?” you reply and pull your hand away from her, propping your elbows on your knees. “I don't know what's going on in his head. And he's not telling me either. Which is perfectly fine. But how am I supposed to feel when he – when he apparently only wants my body but not me?”

She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again. 

“I know that the breakup with Annika really affected him,” you continue. "And that's totally understandable. I mean, who wants to catch their girlfriend in bed with another man?" You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. ”I can understand it, really. But – I don't know – if you're really right, then I don't understand why he only wants my body and not me. He would kiss me otherwise, wouldn't he?”

You have the feeling that your thoughts definitely made more sense in your head. But now they are spilling out of you like a shaken bottle of coke. 

“I – I don't know if I can take this. Raphael – when he didn't get my body, he looked for another one, or rather several others. He didn't want me, just my body. I'm afraid it's the same now.” You look away. "I don't think I can get over something like that again. It was already difficult with Raphael, but Charles – Charles means so much more to me than Raphael ever did. Charles is my home. My one and only.”

“Maybe he's also worried that you don't feel the same way about him,” she interjects. "Have you told him?”

“That I love him? No, I haven't.”

Kika blinks at you silently. ’You — you love him?”

You stare at her as if pink elephants were floating around her head. It's the first time you've said it out loud. And contrary to your expectations, your worries and fears, which you brought with you as a legacy from your relationship with Raphael, it feels right. 

Tears well up in your eyes. “I love him.”

Kika can't stop the smile that spreads across her beautiful face. Like a little girl, she throws herself in your direction and wraps her arms around you, pressing herself against you. “I'm so proud of you, querida.” She kisses your cheeks. “So unbelievably proud.” She pulls away from you and wipes the tears from your cheeks with her thumb. 

You look at her, confused. “Proud?” Your voice trembles with excitement. You actually said it. You can hardly believe it. 

“Incredibly proud. You let your walls come down even though you were hurt so badly.” Now tears are welling up in her eyes as well. ”You let love into your heart. Passion. You're ready to be loved, sweetheart. The greatest adventure in the world. I'm so incredibly proud of you.”

The two of you embrace for another moment before your friend pulls away from you and jumps up from the couch. She grabs her laptop and googles shops that sell dresses suitable for tomorrow's occasion. 

“We'll go shopping tomorrow morning and get you a dress that will take Charles's breath away,” she grins, cuddling up next to you under the covers. "We'll buy you a dress that he can't wait to rip off you." She smiles at you. ”And he'll kiss you. I'd bet money on that, too.” Before she clicks through the internet any further, she grabs the remote and presses play. 

You wipe a tear from your eye before leaning your cheek on her shoulder to watch her browse. In the background, you hear Damon speaking in the series:

“You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure and even a little danger.”

It's as if he's speaking from your soul. 

-

You carefully get out of the cab, trying not to wrinkle your dress. With your purse on your shoulder, you walk up the few steps to the house where Kika's New Year's party is taking place. Your dress is baby blue, with a slit that reaches to the middle of your thigh and a back neckline that definitely doesn't allow for a bra. 

Kika did an amazing job dragging you through the various shops this morning, forcing you to try on countless dresses. 

And indeed, you found the perfect dress. 

“You look fabulous,” she smiles as she opens the door for you. There are already a lot of people in the background and music can be heard outside on the street. She kisses you on both cheeks. ”That dress was definitely the right decision. If Charles doesn't give you at least a New Year's kiss on the lips, I'll be happy to do it for him.”

Your girlfriend is wearing a black, sparkly dress with a cutout at the waist that accentuates her figure beautifully. She grabs your arm and pulls you through the crowd of people, all of whom are also wearing chic evening wear. 

You look her up and down and whistle. “You look hot, Kika,” you compliment her as she stops in the kitchen. “Maybe I'll take you up on that offer. Where's Pierre?”

“I have no idea. He's probably lurking around somewhere.”

While she mixes you a drink, you look around before taking your cell phone out of your handbag to see if Charles has sent you a text. 

But there is nothing. Since this afternoon, when he texted you that he was on his way back to Monaco. 

Kika notices your searching look. “He's not here yet.” She waits until you have put your cell phone back in its case before she hands you the almost full glass. “But don't worry. He'll definitely come. After all, he promised you.” She points to the large clock hanging next to the double-door refrigerator. “And he still has two hours before the new year begins.”

The next hour and a half feels like an eternity – no, two eternities. 

You chat with Kika and her friends, even Elena is there, and you win a round of beer pong with her, which looks pretty funny considering that all the guests are dressed as if they could go to the prom in a minute. 

The music is loudest in the huge living room, and the bass vibrates right through to your bones as the three of you dance and drink and enjoy the evening as if it were the last day. Which, in theory, it is. 

But no matter what you do, your thoughts are always with Charles. Is he already in Monaco? Or even on his way here to you? 

You have to actively stop yourself from checking your phone every five minutes in the hope that he has sent you his location or a message. These last few days you have missed him so much that you would like to call him to ask him where he is. 

And the more minutes pass, the closer midnight and the new year come – the more your stomach becomes queasy. 

With your jaw clenched, you stand in the bathroom and wash your hands, holding your wrists under cool water to get rid of the heat, but somehow it doesn't quite work. Your thoughts revolve around Charles. 

Charles, who you haven't seen in days. Charles, who you miss terribly. Charles, who you love. 

Charles, who apparently isn't going to show up at this party. 

When there's a knock at the door, you turn off the tap. “Occupied!”

The door opens and just as you're about to complain, Kika and Elena poke their heads into the bathroom. Their cheeks are red from alcohol as they join you and close the door again. 

Kika puts her arm around your shoulder while Elena leans against the wall. “He'll be here,” the Portuguese woman tries to cheer you up, as if she can read your mind. Apparently, it's written all over your forehead. 

You look at her, raising your eyebrows. “And what if he doesn't? There are only twenty minutes left until New Year.” You try to sound as neutral as possible, but you can still hear the tension in your voice.

“Who'll be here?” Elena asks, looking at both of you and taking a paper towel to moisten it a little at the sink. 

“Charles,“ Kika answers for you. When you give her a dirty look, she just shrugs. 

“Don't worry,” Elena smiles, stepping in front of you and taking your chin in your hand to wipe away the mascara under your eyes. “He's probably already outside looking for you.”

Kika nods eagerly. “Elena's right,” the model agrees. "Come on. You've been in here for far too long. We're going out there now and celebrating the New Year together," she says, leaving no room for discussion. She grabs your hands and pulls you both outside, where Pierre is leaning against the wall. The music is quieter here, more subdued, so you can even have a proper conversation.

“Where the heck have you been?” Kika pouts at him and puts her arms around his neck. "I haven't seen you in ages." She gently pulls him down to her and kisses him briefly before nestling against his side. "Doesn't she look great in that dress?" she asks, pointing at you and your gown.

Pierre smiles at you and kisses you on the cheek in greeting. “You look beautiful,” he says before kissing his girlfriend on the forehead. “But I still have the hottest date tonight.”

“And I don't think that's true,” you hear someone say behind you. The voice is warm and gentle and oh so familiar. When you turn around, he's standing there in dress pants and a shirt and absolutely perfect. ”Good evening, mon amour.”

You don't even try to hide your joy at seeing him again, which is why you immediately throw yourself at him. His muscular arms wrap around you and he lifts you up, before spinning you around briefly. 

When he sets you down, his warm hands remain on your hips, while yours rest on his cheeks. “Hi,“ you smile at him, trying to blink away the tears of joy gathering in the corners of your eyes. 

“Well, did you miss me?” he grins, his fingers spreading apart and now resting on your lower back, on your bare skin. 

Goosebumps spread out at the place where he touches you. As if it is the first time. As if you can't get enough of him. You smile. “Well,” you try to play down your emotions. “I finally had a whole bed to myself,” you joke. 

The Monegasque rolls his eyes playfully before pressing you closer to him. “In your messages, it sounded like you couldn't wait for me to lie next to you again,” he whispers, his warm breath caressing your face. 

You look up at him. “Maybe I was lying.”

“I doubt that very much,” he smiles at you. "I'm so glad to be with you again." He leans down to you and gently kisses your cheek as your hands slide down to his chest. ”Next time I'll really take you back to camp. I never want to be separated from you for so long again.”

You purse your lips. “It wasn't that bad.” Cheeky lie. 

He raises his hand and places his curved index finger under your chin to lift it up so that you look at him. His eyes sparkle in that beautiful green that you love so much. 

“It was absolute hell.”

“Maybe you two should just get married,” Kika interjects. You both turn your heads in her direction and stare at her in puzzlement. Pierre nudges her in the side. ”What? Sooner or later it'll happen anyway.”

“Okay, my darling. How much have you had to drink?” Pierre asks her, as he throws you an apologetic smile and then wraps his arm around his girlfriend's waist to lead her away from you both. Elena gives you a quick wink and follows the couple. 

Charles leans against the wall, but pulls you with him so that his hands are back on your hips and you are standing between his legs. “You look beautiful in that dress,” he smiles, letting his fingers slowly travel over the fabric on your butt before sliding up over your bare back. “Did you know that it's my favorite color?”

The smile on your face grows wider. “Maybe.” Your arms wrap around his middle. “I missed you so much,” you answer his question from earlier. 

His hand gently caresses your shoulder blades before his fingers carefully find their way to the back of your neck, holding you there. “Never again without each other,” he whispers, as if it were a promise meant only for your ears. 

You nod slightly. “Never again without each other.”

In the background, you can hear the other party guests beginning to count down the minutes to midnight. You both glance towards the door. 

“We should get back to the party,” you say, pushing away from him, just a little, because you can't get any further with his hand on the back of your neck. “So we can start the new year together with the others.”

“I'm not interested in the others,” he says, but follows you back to the party. ”As long as I have you, I don't care about the others.”

His words make your blood rush to your cheeks. 

It’s like his presence makes you see everything more vibrant. The air in the apartment seems to shimmer in golden light, a haze of champagne bubbles and glow of string lights wrapped around the ceiling beams. Things you haven’t noticed before, because you were so focused on Charles‘ absence. The both of you come to a halt next to Kika and Pierre, the first one handing the both of you champagne glasses. 

„You ready?“, she smiles at you, raising one eyebrow. 

Now is the time. The breaking point. The start of it all - or the end before it even really started.

You nod slightly. „I’m ready.“

You stand beside Charles, his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you so close against him that not even a sheet of paper would fit between the both of you. But even though his hand is on your bare skin, he doesn’t seem close enough. You can smell his cologne – something crisp and familiar, laced with memories of late-night drives and inside jokes and pillow talks. You steal a glance at him, your heart stumbling over itself. 

He laughs about something Pierre shouts at him, dimples flashing, his green eyes catching the chandelier light in a way that makes your breath hitch. You’ve known him for two weeks – two fucking weeks – but it seems like you’ve known him since forever. The way his voice sounds all raspy and deep when he wakes up. The way his eyes light up when he talks about something he’s passionate about. The way he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room who truly matters to him. 

And yet, he has no idea. 

All around you, the energy shifted. The crowd tightened, turning towards the big TV screen mounted on the wall, where the countdown was shown. 

Ten. Nine. Eight. 

Your pulse quickens. Your heart beats so fast, that you fear it’ll break through your ribcage. You inch even closer, pressing yourself against his side. You can feel his body heat through your dress, something you missed the last few days. It’s been two weeks of skirting around the truth, of stolen glances and unsaid words and hesitant touches, and you don’t know if you can bear another second o fit. 

Charles shifts beside you. You can feel it – the way his body stiffens, the way his breath falters. 

Seven. Six. Five. 

Then, just as you lift your head, he leans down. It would take nothing to close the space between your lips. Just an inch. Maybe less. You can feel his breath on your face. 

He says your name, whispers it in a room full of people who shout numbers, but all you can hear is him. His voice is raw. A plea. A warning somehow. 

Four. Three. Two. 

He closes his eyes, his forehead brushes against yours and the closeness makes your pulse stutter. Every little detail of him is magnified – the different shades of green, the tension in his jaw, the fingers tightening around your hip, curling into your flesh like he’s afraid of letting you go. Like you’d slip out of his reach if he loosens his grip.  

One.

His eyes snap open, dark and conflicted. 

You push yourself up, not even an inch, and Charles – 

Charles pulls away. 

Happy. Fucking. New Year. 

[crescenthistory]

Barty and Potter!Twin!Reader are rivals because Barty, in his own warped perception of loyalty, thinks he just has to hate the Potters on Regulus' behalf. Reader, in turn, is super protective of James and Sirius, so she always fires right back.

One day they're having a spat and he's using the "you're spoiled" argument, to which you reply with your usual "I'm loved, it's not the same". Barty throws out some taunt about "Effie and Monty" instead of "Mummy and Daddy" when he's taunting her and you're all "how the fuck do you know about my parents?"

"Because they haunt Regulus' dreams."

"Regulus would be welcome to come live with us at any time. The only reason he doesn't know that is because he doesn't let himself."

"And the rest of us?" He's hoping it's a gotcha moment where Potter!Reader is forced to admit that there is never enough love to go around for everyone, that you can be spoiled by it, that some people are just born unlucky.

Instead; "You know what, Junior? The rest of you tossers are welcome as well."

You don't let him win and you throw it out without thinking, knowing in your heart of hearts that if your parents would take in anyone. Barty grins wickedly because he thinks you've made a mistake, thinks that he can take you up on it and prove you wrong once and for all.

Fully intending on antagonising you, on making you eat your words, Barty shows up at the doorstep of Potter Manor for summer break. Except that instead of being thrown out immediately or getting to revel in Effie and Monty trying and failing to play along before then at last kicking him out – he's embraced.

Barty is wholeheartedly taken in. And once he's there, no amount of "woah hey no this is not what I signed up for" is going to save him. He gets accepted, doted on, loved. It becomes the best summer of his life.

Instead of him cackling in your face, you get to hold back a smirk as you chew your dinner, multiple weeks into Barty's siege of Potter Manor, watching him smile without thinking about it.

At the end of the summer, maybe after certain feelings have been revealed and established, he's all but toeing the ground with his shoe, looking up at you uncertainly, going: "Did you mean all of us tossers would be welcome?" Queue you thanking Merlin that Potter Manor is already unnecessarily large as you suddenly have three more Slytherins and a Ravenclaw at your doorstep.

[16wolke11]

Clumsy - Oscar Piastri

A/N My first one-shot here! Still figuring out the tagging and stuff, but I hope you like it.

Summary: Oscar's girlfriend is extremely clumsy, always managing to get a new bruise or a new cut just a few days apart. One day she falls down the stairs and needs surgery, Oscar drops everything to be with her.

Words: 2139

__________

Being a teacher at an elementary school was always my dream job, and after finishing my master's degree, I am finally able to do what I love; teaching the young ones and laying the first stones on their path to knowledge. Even though it is difficult at times, to manage the fidgeting children who tend to get distracted easily, it's still what I love. Seeing success when another one manages to read a full sentence, solve a math problem, or write a rather difficult word with the correct spelling is priceless.

But being a teacher also means I'm not able to accompany Oscar that often. It's just not ideal to travel over the weekend; landing late on Fridays and having to leave exactly after the race, while also trying to prepare the classes for the upcoming week and maybe even needing to correct work from the previous one. I love summer break because it means I can be with Oscar more often, but in the meantime, we make the best out of the situation. We FaceTime frequently, chat while the other is occupied, and just savour the time we can spend together.

This week is another one when Oscar left for a race, and I have to stay behind. Luckily, I have a short day at school today, allowing me to go before lunch and finish some things. Well, if it weren't for my clumsy self. Oscar always jokes that I get at least five new bruises while he's away, and he's probably right, but I can't do anything about the stumbling, the brushing against door frames, or knocking my little toe into anything. But today, my bad luck took it one step too far, and I slipped on the stairs at school, hitting my elbow on them and feeling a sharp pain shoot down my arm.

I've fallen down these stairs before, but I've never been in so much pain. One of my coworkers found me, and after a quick look at my already bruising elbow, we decided to call an ambulance. Now, hours later, I have a diagnosis and finally some time to tell Oscar what happened. I already have a few texts from him, nothing too worried, just some updates about his day and a question about how mine is going. With a sigh, I call his number, bracing myself to tell him everything while not even being able to fidget with my fingers for distraction.

It doesn't take long before Oscar picks up like he's been waiting in front of his phone just anticipating my call or text. "Hey, Oscar," I greet him and hear some shuffling in the background before a door closes and Oscar speaks up.

"Love, everything okay? Shouldn't you be at work?" he asks, his voice already laced with worry. I close my eyes for a moment. Oscar didn't even know I was supposed to be out of work early today and just assumes I should still be at school teaching or supervising the little gremlins.

"Please don't freak out," I start, and I hear a nervous chuckle in response.

"This is not a great starting point for that request, but I'll try."

He's right, but I don't even know how to phrase what happened easily, so I just start with the simplest explanation I can think of. "Well, I kind of fell down the stairs after finishing my last class."

"Again?" Oscar laughs, and I can't help but smile a little too, though I roll my eyes at the same time, even though Oscar can't see me.

"Hey, I can't do anything about being clumsy," I protest, but I only get another laugh in return. Usually, I would laugh with him, but the light throbbing in my elbow, down to my fingers, stops the light mood I'm in.

"Sorry, but I reckon you don't just call to tell me that," Oscar apologizes softly, and then he gets back to the reason for my call. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for all the questions he's going to have.

"No, I might've smashed my elbow pretty badly, and they brought me to the hospital." I tell him the first facts, and immediately the laughing Oscar is replaced with a worried one.

"That bad?" he asks, and I can almost hear the pain in his voice. As much as he likes to joke about my clumsiness, he also hates it when I get injured, even if it's just a little bruise or a cut.

"Unfortunately, I managed to break it and need surgery to fix the broken pieces back into place. It'll be a long recovery because I was pretty successful in splintering the bone into pieces," I tell him what the doctors explained, just in the simpler version. They explained a lot about how they need to make sure there are no little bone fragments left in the joint and the recovery process I'll have to go through.

"Fuck!" Oscar curses, and I can hear him pacing, probably in his driver's room. I can only imagine the distressed look on his face and how he's probably ruffling his hair while a thousand thoughts swirling through his head. Well, at least he's giving me an insight into what's going on in his mind, because he starts rambling.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need anything? I could send Margaret over or someone else if you need anyone by your side right now. Did they say anything about the recovery? Will your arm be able to move normally or will there be any lasting damage?"

"Oscar, stop." I manage to speak up when he takes a deep breath. It's sweet how he's trying to help me from afar, even thinking about sending our elderly neighbour to me, but I need him to calm down.

"Sorry, kind of freaking out right now," he mutters, and I smile just a little bit.

"I could tell." I still remember the first time Oscar rambled that much and how surprised I was by the speed and number of words coming out of his mouth. Usually, he's calm, collected, and limits his words to the necessary ones, but when he's really worried, everything just comes out.

"Don't worry, I don't need anything right now. Just hearing your voice makes everything feel better," I tell him, which is the truth. There's nothing I need right now, except for him, and he just helps me by being here on the phone, even though it's not the same as having him in person.

"That's good," Oscar says, and I can hear that he's stopped pacing, probably calming down a little.

"Is there anything you know about the surgery?" he asks after a short break, now sounding like his calm self again.

"We're currently waiting for a free spot in the OR. It's not urgent, but they'd like to operate before the swelling gets too bad, and luckily, I haven't had lunch yet," I explain what the doctors told me. This isn't an emergency, but waiting too long isn't ideal either, so they're going to squeeze me in as soon as one of the ORs is available.

"I bet you're hungry," Oscar grins, and I can hear it in his voice. I've learned to recognize that tone through the phone—the soft change when his lips are curled upwards.

"Starving," I confirm with a soft laugh. My stomach is already growling, but there's no way to get food until after the surgery. I can wait if it means my elbow will be fixed.

"I promise you your favourite food as soon as I'm with you," Oscar says, and I know he's not lying. He would probably even order food into the hospital for me if that were possible, but they wouldn't bring it to me, so I'll have to wait.

"Looking forward to it. Hopefully, I'll be home by then," I mumble, knowing it will take some days until Oscar will be back home, and who knows, maybe they'll send me home just a few days after the surgery.

"We'll see," are Oscar's last words about my injury before we start talking a bit about his day. I get the feeling he's trying to distract me, and it's working perfectly. At one point, Oscar needs to leave for some duties, and luckily for me, a nice nurse comes in just a few minutes later to inform me that my surgery is starting soon.

The way to the OR and the prepping feels like a blur, and quicker than I thought, I'm with an anaesthesiologist. Drifting into sleep feels like a relief because I know my arm will be fixed. Of course, recovery will take its time, but I'm sure I'll manage it just fine.

Waking up after the surgery almost knocks the air out of my lungs because it feels like my arm is falling off. The nurse helps me take a few sips of water, gives me some painkillers, and then I drift back into sleep, even though I just woke up from a deep slumber.

The night is blurry, waking up from time to time—sometimes from the pain in general, sometimes from the nurses, and sometimes from the pain of a sudden movement. But somehow, I make it through the night and feel slightly better in the morning. Blinking, I try to figure out what time it might be when I spot a familiar figure sitting beside my bed, watching me closely.

"Os?" I ask groggily, not sure if he's really sitting there or if the pain meds are playing tricks on my mind. But just seeing the soft smile on his lips makes me hope that he's really there and not just in my imagination.

"Hi, love," he whispers, fingers reaching for my uninjured hand, softly holding onto it, letting me feel the warmth of his touch.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, slowly realizing that he's indeed here and not with his team for the race weekend.

"Being here for you," he simply states, like it's obvious that it wouldn't even be a question for him if he had to choose where to be right now.

"Your race..." I whisper, knowing how important it is, not only to him but to the fans, the championship, the team, and everyone else involved. I would like to ask him if he's insane, if they made it hard for him to leave, but no words leave my lips.

"You are more important," Oscar states, and my eyes well up. How can he be so perfect?

"Thank you," I try to squeeze his hand a bit, but my grip is pretty weak. Oscar starts letting his thumb brush over the back of my hand, and I relax under his touch. His eyes wander over me before he asks a question.

"How are you feeling? Is the pain manageable?"

My eyes linger on my heavily padded elbow for a moment. Right now, I don't feel anything but a dull pain. But it seems like Oscar's touch makes it disappear with every soft stroke of his finger on my skin.

"You make everything seem better just by being here," I state, my voice laced with tiredness, and Oscar smiles softly.

"So, I guess they gave you some nice painkillers," he grins. I can hear it in his voice, and I can feel my lips pulling into a crooked smile.

"Yes."

We look at each other for a moment, but my eyes are getting heavier and heavier, and I have to fight to keep them open for a few more minutes.

"Can you come in?" I ask Oscar, who looks conflicted at my question.

"I don't know," he says, gesturing to my body, indicating he's scared of hurting me in any way, but I just need him close now for recovery.

"Please."

Oscar sighs softly before standing up. "Okay, anything to make you feel better," he says, gets rid of his shoes, and carefully shuffles into the bed beside me. I need to stay on my back because of my elbow being propped up in some bedding, and he lays on his side beside my good arm, resting his arm over my belly and searching for the contact I need. I rest my head against his chest before a thought comes into my head.

"Did you bring the food?" I ask, remembering what he promised, and even though my mind is hazy, I realize he probably already knew he was coming home early when he promised me the food.

"Yes," Oscar confirms, and I can only hum the following words, close to falling asleep.

"Love you."

"Love you too, my little crash pilot," Oscar whispers, holding me in his arms while I slip into the sleep of recovery.

[studyinglogic]

[Continued from above]

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

Language Apps Suck, Now What?: A Guide to Actually Becoming "Fluent"

The much requested sequel to my DL post that was promised almost a year ago.

I'm going to address all of the techniques that have helped me in my language learning journeys. Since 95% of these came from the fact that in a past language learning mistake, they are titled as my mistakes (and how I would/did things differently going forward). For those that read to the bottom there is a "best universal resources" list.

Disclaimers:

"Fluency" is hard to define and everyone has their own goals. So for the purpose of this post, "fluency" will be defined as "your personal mastery target of the language".

If you just want to pick up a bit of a language to not sound like a total foreigner on vacation or just exchange a few words in a friend's native language, feel free to ignore what doesn't apply, but maybe something here could help make it a little easier.

This is based on my own personal experience and (some) research.

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

[houseofanticipation]

I put you in the basement at first. Obviously. I can't just give you free rein of the house, not when you still believe there's a life for you outside it. No, you stay in the basement, and because I don't have you trained yet, you stay chained to the wall. This is probably about as frustrating for me as it is for you. You don't like being chained to a wall? Imagine how tiresome it is for me that I have to come all the way downstairs every time I want to rape you.

When some of the fight has gone out of you (it may be as short as a week or as long as several months, depending on how willful you are), I let you roam the basement freely. There's not a lot to do down there, but at least you can pace if you want, and I'm sure it's a relief to have that cuff off your ankle. At this point you're probably still planning to escape eventually, but you've realized you need to be smart about it. You need to wait and bide your time. Be a good girl for me and let me get complacent, and eventually I'll slip up.

Of course, what you're telling yourself each day you wait is that some amount of rape is acceptable. When you hear me coming and get on the bed preemptively, so I don't have to beat you down. When you spread your legs for me instead of trying to resist. When you touch yourself beforehand, just to make yourself wet enough that it's a little less painful when I force myself into you without lube. With each little act of acquiescence, you're telling yourself, I choose this. I have weighed the options, and this rape is what's best for me at this moment. I think you'll be surprised by how much that sentiment can build up.

One day, a few months after I unchain you, I leave the door open. Not by a lot, not enough to be obvious, but you notice. It seems like an accident, like I got careless and forgot to make sure it latched on my way out. You wait until you think I'm asleep and then you make a break for it. I let you get as far as the driveway before I stop you. And when I use you that night, believe me, it is brutal.

In the coming weeks I "forget" the door more and more often. Maybe the second time it happens you really believe you've just gotten lucky again. But by the third time you see the game: I don't bother with the door because I'm not worried about you escaping. I'm stronger and faster and smarter than you, and I know when you're going to try to escape before you do.

My favorite little trick comes a few weeks later. At that point I've stopped bothering with the door entirely, and you no longer try to escape every night. You're biding your time again, waiting for the crack in cage, only this time the cage is bigger, and it's harder to tell where the walls are. But on this night you do try to escape (you think you've figured out my sleep schedule), and you make it all the way down to the road. You flag down a cop car as it drives by, and explain breathlessly to a horrified officer that you've been held captive, raped, beaten, that the man who did this to you lives right up there on the hill, that any second I'm going to wake up and notice you missing, and you need to go now. The officer calls for backup, puts you in the back seat of his car, and proceeds to drive you right back up to my house, where I'm waiting for you.

As a bonus for helping me out, I let him rape you right there in the backseat of his car.

It doesn't take many games like that before you stop trusting anyone at all. You walk half a mile down the road to my neighbor's house, he gives me a call the second he sees you coming up the driveway. A long-haul trucker picks you up in passing, and he takes you to a local dive bar where he and his buddies can have their way with you while you wait for me to come pick you up. All it takes is a few well-placed friends to make you believe I somehow know everyone in the world, and they're all going to give you up the moment you ask for help.

So you stop asking for help.

You're tired of the punishment. You're tired of the brutality. Better some rape than cruel, brutal rape. Isn't it? You stop trying to escape. You stop resisting. You come when I call, you suck when I tell you to suck, you swallow when I tell you to swallow. And in return I keep you comfortable, well fed, taken care of. Not such a bad trade off, really.

I know I've won when I can go on vacation. I'll just leave one day for a long weekend. I don't bother telling you where I'm going, or how long I'll be gone. You wander the house, maybe even go out in the yard, but you don't try to run. There's a little voice in the back of your head telling you this is all a trick, I want you to run, I'm out there waiting for you to break the rules so I can hurt you worse than I've ever hurt you before.

You decide not to risk it. Better to stay here, where it's safe.

[causenessus]

foggy days . . . | chuuya + dazai

chuuya x gn!reader + dazai x gn!reader (seperate scenarios!)

"...god loves you, but not enough to save you. so good luck taking care of yourself." (sun bleached flies / ethel cain)

↑ you don’t have to take care of yourself alone. people come into your life and you enter those of others' so that everyone helps take care of each other. to be human is to love more than god can. more than god ever intended. - ness <3

3.2k words

notes: my og title was super long for this work so i’ve split it up into three parts each with their own song lyrics bc i’m in my yearning era. hopefully everything makes sense :> there is no longer any continuity between the formats of any of my posts and idrc. a little suggestive in chuuya's, a little bit of tongue action, once again i'm a whore for manga-chuuya so don't be offput by his eyes being described as brown LMAO. lots and lots of comfort, basically scenarios of chuuya/dazai + you on a foggy day,,, enjoy <3

thank you to @osamucide for helping me w/ dazai's choice of song <3 this ones for u <3 smooching u <3 ily <3 my life is dedicated to u <3 what a coincidence the lyrics you associated him linked directly back to the ending line i wrote for his scenario before i had even asked you for suggestions <3 we're just soulmates like that <3 mwah <3

. . . kisses on the tip of your nose (chuuya)

“hey, do you wanna see the west with me? ‘cause love’s out there and i can’t let it be." "...love’s never meant that much to me, but i’ll come with you if you’re sure it’s what you need.” (thoroughfare  / ethel cain)

on foggy days, chuuya finds you on a bench underneath the warm flood of light from a lamp post above. air is transparent; it has no color, the phenomenon behind fog is simply that the air has become denser, increasing its visibility while lowering the sight lines of others. yet the humid air eagerly reflects and intensifies any color that shines through it, which allows for the sight in front of him now: like a flickering candle in the middle of a dark room, the throw of the single beacon of light on what must be yokohama’s foggiest day frames and spills atop the crown of your head, making you look more angelic than you already always do. if he had a camera on him, maybe he’d try to take a picture, assuming that the fog wouldn't harbor the clarity of the lens.

you think he looks cute, standing there lost in his own thoughts for a moment, hands stuffed into the pockets of a coat lined with that prickly, stiff, woolen fabric no one like but, regardless, cannot complain about because it keeps them warm. he’s finally abandoned his normal attire for something that's still classy, of course, but more appropriate for the weather.

a scarf is tied around his neck, the way you taught him to so that he wouldn't complain about how itchy or tight it felt, and he’s buried the lower half of his face deep inside the warm fabric, trying to keep his nose from freezing off.

you want to hold his face between your hands, nuzzle the tip of your nose against him, kiss the tip of his nose, then maybe the bridge of it, then the space between his brows, then over each of his eyes, then his cheeks, and then finally, his warm, warm lips.

but you'll do that after he stops scowling at you, shoulders hunched up to try and shield his ears from the nipping cold as best as he can.

he's also, of course, wearing that hat of his. you almost tell him to go back inside in case the moisture of the humid air affects the worn leather it's made of.

but he's braved the cold and stepped out of the house to find you, and you know it's useless to try to suggest the idea to him unless you're following him back in.

"what're ya doing out here in this weather?" he's not scolding you or upset with you, just utterly confused. he steps closer, removing his gloved hands from his pockets to pick up your bare hands that you had resting in your lap, holding them between his warm ones. "shit, i can feel how cold you are through my gloves, doll. you okay?" even if he happened to be irked by something you did, he could never stay mad at you for very long before he was overwhelmed with how much he loved you. now his eyes are warm and soft, focused on your own, brows laced with concern and the scowl gone from his face.

this is where you kiss him all over his face.

and that's exactly what you do, humming a small "yes" to his question before escaping the grip of his hands, locking your arms around his neck and using all the strength you have to pull him on top of the bench you're on.

it's harder than you expect, although maybe that's on you for thinking it'd be easy. he's an executive of the port mafia and most certainly their strongest; no matter how much he typically lets his guard down around you, it's only natural that he tenses up at your sudden attack.

but it's an attack of kisses, to his surprise, and he exclaims as he comes toppling onto you, your back hitting the spindly worn wood of the bench below you. his legs are tangled with your own, and he's placed his arms on either side of you on the bench to support himself, but you don't let him move another inch away from you, running your hands (warming by the second thanks to all the heat your stealing from him) up his neck to caress the side of his cheeks, pulling him close.

whatever he's been chiding you about now dies in his throat when you pull him close. when only your noses touch, and you look into his pretty brown eyes with those flecks of amber and blue, the prettiest eyes you've ever seen, his breath is warm against your lips, his own curling into smile as he huffs. "don't tease me now, sweetheart," whatever consequence he was going to threaten you with falls silent again when you ignore the jeer, shifting his face down slightly so that the tip of his nose meets your lips, and then you're kissing him all over, small murmurs of "i love you"s whispered between every other kiss. his eyes are squeezed shut, cheeks warming by the second despite your freezing hands, unable to keep himself from getting flushed from your overwhelming amount of love he swears he’ll never get used to.

he’ll always get worked up just from the sight of you, overcome with his uncontrollable amount of desire to kiss you and hold you in his arms, and he’ll never be able to stop his eyes from always tearing up the slightest bit along with the stir of his heart in his chest every time you tell him you love him. he'll never get used to your love, he swears, but he doesn't want to.

when you finally place your lips to his, he hums in pleasant surprise, pressing against your lips with just as much fevor, shifting one of his arms to rest himself on his forearm so that he can run his fingers through your hair.

the fog and cold weather pricking your skin through your layers of clothes fade away when you feel his tongue swipe against your lips, asking to be let in. and when you part your lips and his warmth pulls you inexplicably closer, you don't think even the coldest of temperatures could freeze you to death.

not when you're with him, virtually and inexplicably the sun of your life. melting away any ice in your heart and mind with the warmth that comes from the brightest star that's always giving to others; all in the form of the single man who's in your arms right now.

the slight push of his knee against your legs, nudging them farther apart as he finally parts from you, leaving your mouth empty once again, your chest heaving while he takes to trailing burning kisses down your neck, acting completely unaffected, has you running your hands through his strawberry blonde hair, tugging him ever so gently up so that your faces are mere inches apart again.

"chuuya, we're in public," you rasp, and it seems it's your turn to scold him.

"are we now?" he's only grinning at you, fingers grazing the side of your cheek as he brushes a strand of your hair away from your face. "should've thought about that before ya kissed me like that, then. since we’re 'in public.'" he mocks your words and you can't exactly argue back. you’re racking your head for a comeback but he doesn't give you the time to reply before going on, "there's not even anyone around. that's why you came out here anyway, is it not?"

he knows you too well, and all you can do is give a small smile back, bringing a hand up to caress the side of his face. he leans into your touch letting your warming hands mold to the shape of his heated cheek. 

"it is," you murmur, feeling the need to explain yourself as if he doesn't already know you. but you keep talking anyway, and he doesn't stop you. he likes hearing you talk. "i just recently started to like this weather, around the same time i met you. i like how this weather makes everyone disappear. i like how I can't even see two feet in front of me, i think it's beautiful in its own way— like i’m stepping into the unknown, but i'm not scared. and maybe that’s because i know you’ll find me in it no matter what. you’ll be with me, and i’ll be with you. i like being with you. the only reason i left this morning was just to enjoy the silence... but i'm ready to go back in."

his face is nestled back into the crook of your neck, placing light butterfly kisses over your pulsating temple ever so often as he listens to you speak, feels the rumble of your voice through your throat with how closely he's pressed to your skin.

"we can stay out here, i don't mind. i like that it makes everyone go away, too. everyone but you. i like coming out here to find only you; the only one i want to see, anyway," he whispers back, letting his lips place a longer, more firm kiss than before on your neck, sending shivers down your skin. "wherever you want to go, baby. like you said, i'll always be right behind you. no matter how heavy the fog, i swear i’ll find you." 

. 

. 

. 

♡

. . . and muddied knees. (dazai)

“...don’t wait too long. i don’t want you to get tired of me. am i just that damn hard to love?” (golden age / ethel cain)

sleeping with dazai is always an experience.

every night, you both cuddle under the same futon and yet his hands and feet are ungodly freezing. he whines and blames it on poor blood circulation (but not because of his bandages! they aren't that tight, he made sure to add the first night you shared a blanket and fell asleep in each other's arms) leaving the responsibility to fall into your hands–or, more realistically—you’re the lucky one whose been chosen to be his personal heater, cold hands sneaking up your shirt to rest on your navel, his long legs coming to tangle with yours.

usually, he warms up after getting to hold you so closely, and that's why waking up to a cold spot beside you is all the more shocking.

a little bit of light is spilling in from the nearby curtain of his dorm and you're willing yourself to slip out from underneath the warmth of the futon, in search of something–someone more important than the heat. you shiver as you look outside, trying to assess what time it is.

the sky is a light hazy gray, there's no sun in sight, and the trees and ground are darker than usual, soaking wet with the drizzle of rain that had pattered down on the roof above the two of you last night as you fell asleep.

there had been two beating hearts underneath that futon when you closed your eyes.

but when you opened them, you could only hear the pulse of your own life in your ears. and after a little bit of tip-toeing around his small dorm, you were fairly sure it seemed that he wasn't hiding anywhere in the dorm, either.

slipping on the nearest pair of shoes you can find, wrapping one of dazai's heavier jackets tightly around you, you brace the nipping cold as you open the door of his dorm, peeking your head out.

he’s not out taking in the view of the ground below him, leaning dangerously far over that old, worn, metal railing of the dorm’s building as you sometimes find him doing, so you start your usual trail of places you're bound to find him. it's not surprising that he's wandered off alone, lost in his thoughts. in fact, it's at least a weekly occurrence and by this point maybe anyone else would have gotten used to his sudden disappearances, knowing he was bound to show up back on the doorstep at some point, but you cann't help chasing out after him. you don’t want him to be alone, you don’t want there to be a time that comes where he never returns, and maybe it’s all because you weren’t there with him when he needed you.

you’re his partner; the one he wraps his arms around when he finally, after an entire day being the strong one, relaxes and just becomes osamu again. your osamu. you're the one osamu lets undress him sometimes, let's kiss over his skin, and help him wrap his bandages if he needs. if they exist, you're fairly certain osamu's your soulmate. and if they don't exist, he's surely the closest he can be to one. and maybe he doesn’t see you the same way back, but how could you not go out looking for your soulmate, the one you love, every time he wanders off alone? is always being by your boyfriend's side not what it means to love him? how could your heart not be eating away at you, knowing how far apart your other half, crying out to you to find him?

there’s no need to justify why you’re wandering through the humid mist of the early morning. if dazai asked why you always came after him, you’re not sure you could say all of that to his face. all you could probably say is, “because i love you.” and that’s what it all really boils down to in the end, isn't it? doesn't everything you do for him stem from a place of insatiable love? one that you’re not sure he’s always ready to accept, but one you are always willing to give him more of whenever his mind allows himself to let you love him as you want to. fully.

he's not near the bridge he's often teetering off the edge of and sometimes falling into. he's not found on the boardwalks of yokohama either. the shore is especially ghostly today, absent of any people, and the heavy fog that lays over the rippling blue water doesn't help with the eerie atmosphere.

but you find him at the third spot, which on a day like this, you felt was where you would find him from the start, anyway. 

you climb up the concrete steps quietly, seeing that familiar head of tousled brown hair leaning against a headstone. the engraving of a name that's been etched into it, the grooves aged and soiled with time, faces towards you.

you bow, placing your hands together and paying your respects as always to osamu's friend. the one you’ve never met, but by this point perhaps know just as well as osamu with all the stories he's fondly spoken of, lulling you to sleep on countless nights. after a moment of silence, you pass by the gravestone to join osamu on the dewy grass.

"[y/n]," he says your name, lolling his head against the curve of the top of the gravestone to look towards you.

his eyes are bright and wide, and you almost go as far to say he seems especially energetic today, but you know that no amount of light in his eyes can promise that he's doing well.

your eyes flick down to his hands, bandages just barely peeking out of the beige coat he's wearing, and you kneel next to him, not minding the way the soil sinks against your knees when you do, slightly leaning over him as you take his hands into your own.

"are you not cold? it's freezing out here and you're not even wearing an extra jacket. i should have brought a scarf or something—" you're half speaking to yourself, half speaking to him, and he only continues to watch you as if in admiration of something, which you come to understand with his next words.

"don't you ever get tired of warming me up? do you get tired of having to come find me? are you tried of getting your hands dirty because of me?" his words are gentle, still spoken lightly as if he’s simply telling you about the exciting day he’s had, not asking you questions that have you pausing for a second. in this moment, his tone only speaks volumes to you about how much of his true feelings he's hiding, but none of that works on you anymore.

"no, osamu," you look up at him from where you've been focused on his hands, clamped between your own as you try your best to give him everything you have, willing the warmth of your hands to transfer to him. it's not exactly how science works, but you'd bare the cold for him, freeze your very hands off and give him all of your warmth down to your beating heart if it meant he was warm and well taken care of.

"i'm never tired of you, or anything you do. i'll never get tired of you. i'm happy i get to warm up your hands every night. i'm happy i'm the one that gets to do that and wander around looking for you. you make me so happy, osamu, i don't care about these clothes, or how dirty i get, as long as i get to be by your side. as long as i get to be the one to hold your hands tonight." the curved smile he greeted you with is slowly dropping by the second, but that doesn't mean your words are upsetting him. it's the opposite; his facade is slowly peeling away. "do you see, osamu? you make me so happy. i'll dress warmly and take care of myself just to make sure that i'm always able to warm your hands because i love you. all i hope is that i can make you happy, too."

one of his hands, now slightly warmer, reaches up to slide against the side of your face, brushing the upper ridges of your cheekbone with a thumb. "you do make me happy, angel. sometimes i just have to get out, like my love for you is too much. i don't deserve so much happiness, so i have to return to places that once depressed me in order to force everything to settle down. i don't want to overwhelm you with how i feel, whether that be an emotion good or bad."

"don't hold yourself back or water yourself down for me, osamu. i want to love you through the good and the bad. i want to be there for all of it. i want to warm you up every night, not just on the ones where you feel deserving of it. you're always deserving of love, in my eyes. i don't want just the good parts of you, i want all of you. and if you still have to wander out and return to old places, then i'll come along with you, if you'll let me. i'll keep you warm wherever you go. i love you."

he lets out a breath that sounds like he's been holding it in for hours before he's smiling softly. it's genuine this time when his lips turn upward while he's pulling you onto his lap, your muddied knees straddling his own. "i love you, pretty. i'll do my best to keep you warm, too. with happiness, love, and whatever else you need. i hope you never get tired of me. because i will surely never tire of you." 

.

.

. 

♡

[stilljuststardust]

I don't know. What should I do? 😭 If you were in my place what would u do?..

I'm literally so lost. Right now. Like I feel like I'm in a slump, rut, a cycle of "read Tumblr posts, try, fall, repeat" how do I break free from this???? I genuinely just want to shift. Or live my dream life.

God I'm so done. Ever since I found out abt void (or got into reality shifting) I've put hold on life ever since, it'll be almost an year, I really don't want to keep living like this, it's like god. I can't. I just want to leave this reality. I'm so done. I want to enter void state. I just. God. Oh my god. I can't. I've idolized these things so much I know but these are my only saviors. I do believe all of this is real, but I don't trust my own ability, I know, I've been trying for so long, am I even trying at this point? I know i should give up, but how? I just can't keep living like this, it's hell...

Hello love, turn off your phone.

1. Save what you need to

Find a handful of concise posts that center you and remind you who you are and what you are capable of/remind you that manifestation isn't actually hard

Screenshot them, save them, print them out, whatever you need to but save them in a way that doesn't require you to reopen Tumblr. Maybe make a google doc with them/any links to videos or subliminals that you ground yourself with

2. Address your phone addiction

I fell down a rabbit hole on dopamine addiction a couple months back and I've learned a bit about it. If you want to stop overconsumption you have to stop doomscrolling.

Don't put your phone by your bed. Do not let the first thing you do in the morning be checking your notifications and scrolling.

"think of it as a lemon that you're squeezing the juice out of right? ...at the very beginning you can squeeze very little and you can get a lot of juice out of. But at the very end you need something very very powerful to squeeze out the remaining juice. So the more dopaminergic the task the less dopamine you need to engage in the activity " - DR K

The problem is your phone releases INSANE amounts of dopamine. It's this flashing color crack box that immediately spends all of that dopamine and because you used it first thing you need extremely dopaminergic activities or you can't focus.

Other extremely dopaminergic things include: video games, pornography, seeing people you hate attempt to bleach their hair, gambling, etc.

If you're trying to kick your phone addiction there's a couple things to remember:

You are going to get through the first day and think "I'm doing so well what's a TikTok break going to hurt" DONT FALL FOR IT. Your brain is lying to you. If you were good at moderation you wouldn't be trying to kick the addiction in the first place

It's ok to be bored. You have to accept being bored. It's good for your brain. Be bored.

Do not quit because you tripped up. The best advice I've heard for addiction is not to treat it as "I have to have an unbroken streak" this leads people to go on benders because of small slip ups because they "ruined it anyway". Instead think in percentages. You made it through 6/7 days. That's still an improvement and yes the goal is 7/7 but you are getting there if you keep your discipline.

3. How your day should look

Wake up and take a couple minutes to affirm and saturate your mind. This is basically bragging to yourself about how much you have it and it's yours. Affirm things like "oh my god I just woke up in my DR" or "Oh my god I shifted"

Do the shit you need to do. Don't put it off. Why should your life here have to stop??

Whenever you think about the things you want remind yourself that you already have it and it's yours. Think about it as if you have it. Do saturation sessions throughout the day if you want to.

Stop searching for a new method, advice, whatever, think as if you have already manifested it instead of spiralling into "I don't have it. this next post will help me have it" Do. Not. Think. About. It. As. If. You. Don't. Have. It.

Actually stick to it. Yes even if it takes longer than you want.

Great video on saturation that you should watch: click here

What you're doing wrong

What do you mean you've put your life on hold? Please do not do that. There is no reason to. If you ignore the obvious downsides to neglecting yourself and your life, you should know that isn't helping your manifestation at all either.

Right now you're suspended in a waiting state. You're entire life revolves around "I have to figure out how to do this", "I haven't done this yet so I can't focus on anything else"

What is that telling your subconscious? That it's not here and that nothing can change.

The point of LOA is to think as if it's already here. If you put everything on hold until you have it the only state you are thinking from is "it's not here". If you were thinking from the state of having it you wouldn't be doing any of that. "I can't do ____ until this manifests" you just affirmed that it hasn't manifested/you have not shifted. Not only are you frozen in the physical world but the internal one.

"I know I should give up but how" who told you to give up? I don't think you should do that. Why would you give up on something you have?

Both manifestation and shifting work the same way. You think as if you are there or that you have what you want and the physical world has to change to fit that. Has to.

These things are not your saviors. These things are not things. They are not outside of you. It is not a magical ability you need to tap into, it is something you are already doing. Your assumptions choose what your physical world looks like 24/7. It doesn't turn off that is just how you work. Your reality has ALWAYS shifted to match your mind. You aren't harnessing anything you are just realizing your own potential.

I know it sounds absurdly simple, that's because it is. You are creating your reality. Create. Sit down and think as if it's here. Bask in having it.

Do you know what the void state is? It's you. It's your consciousness. Are you consciousness ? Then you can enter. The reason you aren't experiencing it now is just because you are telling yourself that you are your body. You are not your body. You are the consciousness. Void state is just a return to self.

It is ok to focus on yourself and your life. You are going to be ok. You are going to shift. Please please take care of yourself

Links (please)

Watch this if your forgot who TF you are (fave YouTuber at the moment)

Your only limiting belief

Robotic affirmation timer

[unwantedthots]

Captive Bird | Caleb x Reader

- genre : smut, porn, slight plot, feelings, creampie, cum, dirty talk

- writer: Ive literally NEVER written smut before but ive read a couple and felt like i wanted to write it lol. This is my first ever time writing this so PLEASE bare with me in the new territory im learning lol. Im sorry if its not that long or all jumbly <333

———————————————————————————

"You don’t need me?"

Caleb’s breath hitched, his eyes burning with hurt and fury. "Is that what you think?" His voice wavered, but the desperation in it only grew. "Then tell me—what do you need?" He leaned in closer, his grip tightening. "We can go back to Linkon if you want. We can rebuild our old home. If a house isn’t enough, I’ll build you an entire maze filled with everything you want. No one will ever find you again. I’ll protect you forever."

His gaze bore into yours, searching and pleading for any sign of understanding. His emotions spiraled out of control. And by the time he realized it, he was already too far gone.

You stare at caleb with a stern look and shake your head, trying to wiggly out of his grasp but its no use. “You acting like this, you really think this is how you will get me to stay?” you spewed. Caleb and you hardly argued but when you did it was pure emotion. “I haven’t seen you in months, you show up out of the blue and bark orders at me?”

Caleb's hands twitched against your wrists, his grip loosening significantly at their words. His violet eyes darkened, the depth of his feelings plainly visible. "You think I want to act like this? That I'm doing this because I enjoy it?" The tension in his voice was palpable, the intensity behind his words making the air in the room grow heavy.

“Everything I have done has been to protect you” He growled, throwing his hand to the side. His stare was deep, penetrating, his eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched. “You just don’t see it. You’re too stubborn.”

You rolled your eyes. “I didnt need protecting.” You spat trying to shove him off, but he didnt budge. “You forced ME to stay here. You kept secrets.” You argued poking your finger into his sternum. “You.. you died. You left me and made me believe you were dead.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving your face. Then slowly, he leaned back, finally releasing your wrists. His hand ran through his messy dark hair, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Caleb.. I-" You spoke bringing down your tone. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear. His touch was as gentle as ever, showing a stark contrast to the harshness of their argument.

You moved your head from his hand

"I don't want you to stay because I'm forcing you to," he added, his gaze sincere. "I want you to stay because you want to… because you can't imagine being anywhere else. Because you feel safe with me."

You moved away from his touch, but slowly began to let him do as he pleased. His prior frustrated facial expression had turned to a soft gaze.

His fingers gently trailed down your cheek, his touch feather-light. Despite their argument, despite the storm brewing outside, this was the Caleb, you knew. Not the ruthless Farspace Fleet Colonel. Not the man who would manipulate situations for his own benefit. Just Caleb, the man who cared for you more than anything else.

"But if I'm not the one who makes you feel safe anymore…" he trailed off, his gaze dropping to his lap. "If all I bring you is pain and misery… Then maybe it's best if you do leave. Maybe you would be better off without me around."

His purple irises met theirs once more, a silent plea hidden within their depths. He lowered his hand and grabbed yours placing it onto his chest. You could feel his muscles through his clothes, his heart racing ever so slightly.

The argumentative atmosphere had dissipated. You both had so much love for each other and the way you were showing it now was toxic. You NEVER argued.

“You know thats not true.” You trailed off feeling his breathe. You sighed softly. Your friend you loved was so mature, something so unfamiliar to you.

Caleb's gaze was earnest, filled with a yearning that seemed to pull you closer. "When I look at you, it's like seeing the one person who stayed the same, no matter how much the world turned upside down. I want to protect that—you, the way you’ve always made me feel. But I don't always know how to do it right anymore."

Calebs hand slid up to your face. “I really dont know whats right anymore” Caleb said tilting his head to the side, staring down at your lips. He was about to cross a line that had never been crossed.

Your heart raced at the thought of caleb kissing you. The sibling relationship you guys had went away after he ‘died’. When you mourned for Caleb you were filled with regrets. Now one of those regrets was about to wash away.

You closed your eyes as Caleb closed the gap between you two. His kiss was almost as if he had been waiting for this for years. The way his body completely moved with yours.

His touch was gentle yet filled with a raw intensity, as if trying to convey the words he couldn't quite form. For a moment, everything else faded away—the arguments, the pain, the confusion. There was only this: a connection that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface.

Your eyes buldged as caleb kissed you, unsure of the new territory but you slowly began to accept. Calebs hand trailed down to your wrist and he squeezed it firm almost like he was holding back.

The anger you felt, the confusion you felt, was all gone. You could only think about his lips on yours.

When his hand moved from their face to their wrist, his fingers had curled around it gently. He was careful, mindful of his own strength, feeling the steady pulse beneath his fingertips. That familiar rhythm brought a sense of calm, even as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

The storm outside was still brewing and yet you and caleb didnt seem to mind. The only thing on your minds was each other.

His grip on their wrist softened, shifting to intertwine their fingers as he spoke. "If this is too much—“

“No.. No keep going” you spoke with pleaful eyes. He nods and deepens the kiss as his hand finds the wall behind your head, resting on it. His eyebrows furrowed, his body language full of lust.

Your hands trailed to his waist, gripping onto his pants and pulling him closer to you, both of your tongues swirling in an almost drunken kiss.

A low groan escaping his lips as he felt your fingers grip his pants. He pressed closer, the hard lines of his body molding to the curves of their own. The wall at Y/N back and Caleb's arm around their waist pinned them together, a delicious trap from which neither seemed eager to escape.

His hand slid from their hair to their jaw, tilting it slightly as he explored their mouth with a newfound intensity. Years of pent-up longing and desire coursed through his veins, and he channeled it all into this single moment, this perfect, stolen interlude. He wanted to devour them, to consume every last inch of their skin until there was nothing left but the two of them.

Caleb swept you up into his strong arms, gripping their thighs as he hoisted them onto his hips. He pressed your back against the wall, pinning you there with his muscular frame as he crushed his lips to yours in a searing kiss filled with long-denied passion and lust. One hand slid down to squeeze the curve of your ass, pulling your hips snugly against his own. The hard, thick ridge of his arousal pressed insistently against your core, separated only by the thin fabric of his pants and their clothing.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Caleb's dark, desire-glazed eyes met yours, his gaze heavy with hunger and unspoken desires. "Fuck, Y/N," he growled, his voice low and rough with need.

With that, he swung around and carried you towards the bedroom, his long strides swift and purposeful. He kicked the door shut behind them, the sound echoing in the charged air between them. Caleb laid you down on the bed, following them down, his body blanketing yours, his hips nestled between your spread thighs.

"Tell me to stop," Caleb rasped, his breath hot against your cheek, then your neck. “Tell me this isn’t what you want, this isn’t right.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at the sound of his voice. “No, keep going” You spoke reopening your eyes to gaze at him.

He let out a small groan, a sound that came from someone who was surprised by an answer.

He nipped at your collarbone, soothing the sting with a kiss as he pressed his hips more firmly against yours. The hard, thick length of him throbbed insistently, separated only by the barrier of their clothing. He rolled his hips, grinding against their core, and a low groan rumbled in his chest at the delicious friction.

"Fuck, Y/N," he breathed against his racing heartbeat, "I feel how much you want this too. I know you feel how hard I am for you."

Your face flushed at the sound of Calebs dirty talk. This was such a new area you didn’t know how to feel. You felt shy almost, like this was your first time with anyone.

His hand slid up their side, pushing the hem of your shirt upwards to expose more of your soft skin. Callused fingers brushed over the sensitive underside of their breast, making their way to their nipples.

You let out a soft moan which made Caleb chuckle. The fact that Caleb was able to get you to make such a sound, for him to finally hear that sound, sent chills down his spine. Emboldened, he tugged impatiently at his shirt, taking it off his body, same with his belt.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He swallowed your moans, drinking it down like the finest wine as he ground his hips more insistently against theirs.

Breaking the kiss, Caleb trailed his lips downwards, his tongue flicking out to trace the elegant line of their neck, the delicate curve of their collarbone. He could feel their heart pounding beneath his touch, matching the tempo of his own.

You began to take your shirt off leaving you bare chested. Caleb had sat up, staring at you intently, almost drawing every curve of you in. He licked his lips and grabbed a condom from the drawer to his right, holding it in between his teeth as his ripped it.

Tossing the empty wrapper aside, he held the condom aloft, his eyes locking with Rose's. The dark purple irises swirled with lust and anticipation, a promise of the pleasure to come.

"I'm going to love you like i’ve always dreamed of" Caleb murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to feel every inch of you, to be inside you in every way possible."

“Caleb… don’t say such provocative things…” you said shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. The heat radiated from your ears, cheeks, and shoulders, painting your skin a bright shade of red. You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, each beat echoing the intensity of the moment.

He chuckled softly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. “But you love it,” he replied, his tone playful yet filled with an undeniable heat. The way he looked at you made your stomach flutter, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling within you.

You tried to maintain your composure, but the way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire deep inside. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered, attempting to sound defiant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Caleb’s gaze softened, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin. “You can’t hide how you feel from me,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “I see the way you react, the way you light up when I say those things.”

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The connection between you was electric, and despite your attempts to play it cool, you knew he was right. Every teasing word, every sultry glance only drew you closer to him, making it impossible to resist.

He tossed the condom onto the bed beside you as his hands slid down to the waistband of your pants, his fingers toying with the button. He laughed at your comment and leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered:

"I need you, Y/N. I need to feel you wrapped around me, I need to finally be able to touch you.” Your throat dried up quickly as you nodded, gently cradling Caleb's face. "I don't want to be distant from you… Not again, not ever."

The urgency in your voice nearly left Caleb in a state of turmoil; he was trying his best to remain calm and tender with you. With care, he slid your panties down and moistened two of his fingers, tenderly exploring between your folds.

As he touched you, your back arched instinctively, a wave of warmth cascading through your body. A flutter of excitement stirred in your stomach, a delicious mix of anticipation and desire that made your breath hitch. You bit your lip, trying to hold back your reaction, but the sensation of his hands exploring your skin was intoxicating, igniting every nerve ending.

Caleb took a moment to steady himself, his breath even, as he positioned himself at your entrance. One arm rested next to your neck and the other placed around his cock, just between your legs.

He looked into your eyes, ensuring that you were comfortable and ready for what was about to happen. The atmosphere was tense, filled with an anticipation that hung heavily in the air. Communication was key, and he wanted to make sure you felt safe and in control.

You looked up and noticed the necklace you had given him swaying gently, a reminder of your connection. His pupils were dilated, revealing an intensity that suggested a deep desire. The moment felt charged, each heartbeat echoing the shared anticipation between you.

Caleb regarded you with a questioning gaze, and you nodded in response, granting him permission.

He gradually pressed deeper, and you found yourself unprepared for his size. A low groan escaped his lips as his hand, which had been wrapped around him, moved to your other shoulder.

“Mmph, Caleb,” you murmured, glancing down at his abdomen. His muscles were taut, glistening with beads of sweat that trickled down his body. When you looked back up, you noticed his eyes were closed, and he appeared to be in a state of near discomfort.

You reached out to touch his face, but he caught your hand firmly, pushing it back down into the pillow. The unexpected move sent a thrill through you, a mix of surprise and excitement. His grip was gentle yet possessive, a reminder of the intensity of the moment.

“Not yet,” Caleb said, his voice low and filled with a teasing authority that sent shivers down your spine. “I want you to feel this. Just let go and trust me.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. The way he looked at you, with a blend of desire and determination, made you feel both vulnerable and empowered. You nodded, surrendering to the moment, allowing him to guide you.

He slowly began to pull in and out of his, his eyes focused on looking down, making sure he wasn’t hurting you. ‘Mmph’ You said quietly causing Caleb to look up at you, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

He picked up the pace, and you found yourself unprepared for the sudden intensity. “Caleb,” you moaned, attempting to press your other hand against his chest, but he swiftly pushed it back down. “Slow— mph, down,” you managed to say, your hands now trapped beneath one of his.

He slowly opened his eyes and pressed his lips against yours, savoring every moan that escaped you and returning the sensation with equal fervor. One of your hands slipped from his and reached to his back grabbing onto his shoulder blade harshly.

The way he was making you feel was to much, it was to fast for your. “Caleb-“ You spoke again before he cut you off.

“Please, hah, please don’t make to slow down…” he spoke through moans“I’ve been waiting for this… please don’t make me slow down.”

You quickly covered your mouth and screwed your eyes shut as you let Caleb continue. He felt so large inside of you almost like you could feel him in your stomach.

Caleb had let go of your other hand and gripped the headboard of his bed, almost clawing at it.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, his voice low and filled with desire. “You feel so fucking good.” Each moan that escaped his lips was breathtaking, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire within you. The way he spoke made it clear that he was on the edge, teetering between pleasure and the brink of release.

“Always back-talking me—hah—and now… now you’re silent,” he teased, his words dripping with a playful challenge. His thrusts became more erratic, more desperate, as if he were trying to chase the high that was just out of reach. The tone in his voice wasn’t angry; instead, it felt like this was his way of getting you back, of reminding you of the playful banter that had always defined your connection.

You could feel the intensity building between you, a palpable energy that made the air around you crackle. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and you could sense the shift in him, the way his control was slipping as he surrendered to the moment. It was exhilarating, the way he pushed and pulled, teasing you while also losing himself in the pleasure you shared.

As you locked eyes, you could see the mix of determination and vulnerability in his gaze. It was a reminder that beneath the playful banter and teasing, there was a deep connection that bound you both together, one that thrived on intimacy and trust.

Your walls clench at Calebs stern comment, making his whole body shake for a moment. “You did that in purpose.” Caleb groaned leaning over so his head was into yours ear.

Your stomach tightens at Calebs words and your legs begin to shake. You were so close so you quickly pushed onto his chest trying to push him away. ‘Caleb- Ha - I’m mph, Im close You cried

Caleb’s head tilted back for a moment before he locked eyes with you, his grip firm as he cupped your face. “Don’t push me away anymore,” he said, his voice echoing with a hollow intensity.

Your heart raced at his words, a mix of fear and desire swirling within you. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric. “Caleb—please, I can’t... I’m so close, just stop,” you pleaded, your voice trembling as you instinctively tried to push him away.

But he didn’t budge. Instead, his gaze softened slightly, revealing a vulnerability that made your stomach tighten. You were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, teetering on the edge of something you both feared and craved. “Let me see you, please.” He begged.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your legs began to shake. “Mmph-“ You moaned as your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer towards you.

“Let it out, Y/N,” he urged, his hand sliding to grip your waist. The moment his fingers brushed against your skin, a wave of sensation washed over you, turning you into a moaning mess. Your toes curled, and you arched your back, each vibration coursing through your body like electricity, igniting every nerve ending.

“Ahh, damn,” Caleb moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “It feels so good... I’m so close.” His words spilled out in a breathless rush just before you felt him twitch, his body trembling with pleasure as he released within you. He sucked on your neck as he released with pleasure, moving his hand in yours, grasping it tightly before softly letting go.

Caleb slid out of you and settled beside you, both of you panting, sweaty, and utterly satisfied. You turned to look at him, and your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze. His eyes were locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that spoke volumes—he looked utterly in love, as if he wanted to savor every part of you.

You leaned up to get out of bed, but Caleb quickly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back against him. With your back to him, you felt his warm breath against your neck as he nuzzled in, inhaling the scent of your hair. “Stop,” you giggled, trying to squirm free, but he held you tighter, a playful grin on his face.

You rolled over to face Caleb, who had been gently playing with your hair. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked at you. “Hi,” he said, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Hello,” you replied, your gaze dropping shyly to the sheets.

You scooted closer to Caleb, burying your head into his chest, and he welcomed you by wrapping his arms around you. With a gentle motion, he grabbed the blanket that had been tossed aside, pulling it over both of you and creating a cozy cocoon. “Laying together like this feels like old times,” he said, his voice warm and nostalgic. “But now it’s even better.”

A smile spread across your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I missed this...” you murmured softly.

As you settled deeper into his embrace, you realized that this moment was more than just a memory; it was a promise of all the moments yet to come.

Caleb squeezed you putting his chin ontop of your head, engulfing you in all the love he had to share. A new beginning of both of you, a new uncharted territory and yet you both were so excited to just be there together.

[mellosdrawings]

hihi! I would like to know how you see/feel about the dynamic of the Tweels and Azul, if you don't mind sharing of course!

Hi o/

Sorry, this one took me a minute, I was trying to figure out the best way to explain my feelings about their relationship but... I realized that while I was unable to give a name to KaliJami but was able to explain the relationship, here I am unable to even explain the Octatrio's relationship.

They're best friends who would do anything for each other without needing any explanation, but they also would sell each other for a corn chip. The Tweels are Azul's first friends and also his most consistent bullies. They keep saying they're not friends but nobody around them believes it.

And, you know, I actually like how their vibe is "as long as we're having fun, we're staying together". Relationships don't have to last forever to be cherished. It's perfectly fine to stop frequenting who was once a dear friend if the relationship ends up not being enjoyable anymore. People change and so do their relationships, and that's a healthy mindset to cling to the fun and not force yourself into something that doesn't fit you anymore (in my opinion, at least.)

Though I have a feeling that, for the Tweels, it might come from a shaky family situation. Like Cater who can't will himself to have friends because he keeps moving, so he can't imagine a long lasting relationship whatsoever, I think the Tweels who might come from a family that has some kind of criminal background might approach their relationships in a "that won't last, but at least we'll have fun while it does". They're kinda the opposite of Cater in that regard. All of them are ready for their relationships to stop at any moment, but Cater has a darker view of it and refuses to open up while the Tweels are more nonchalant and try to get the most out of their relationships. The difference might come from the Tweels having each other anyway while Cater has a strained relationship with even his sisters.

Going on a tangent here: a thing I've come to realize is that Azul shows his love the same way the Tweels do. Lemme explain.

The one person we have seen Azul interested in is Jamil. He's shown it in forever bothering him and inviting him to join him and completely disregarding any complaint or refusal Jamil throws his way.

Feels familiar? That's how Floyd approaches Riddle too. That's also how the Tweels approached Azul at first. We don't have that much backstory but we do have an example of Azul trying to drive them away, and them not listening at all and continuing to come bother him until they have carved a place at his side.

I'm personally of the opinion that Azul learned his love language from the Tweels, because it was the only example of (lasting) friendship that he's ever had.

There's also the whole debt thing to take into account. Azul needs to feel unindebted, he cannot stand owing things to others. That's just how it is. The Tweels though would totally do whatever they need to have whatever they want, no matter the debts. But they do play by Azul's rule. Sometimes they even use it against Azul to gain favors from him. Though most of the time it feels like they're indulging him by asking favors when they just wanted to help him. It's a fine line, a fine balance, just like everything else.

The OctaTrio is just always on the cusp of being perfectly in sync with each other, using each other's strength and weaknesses to the best so they could all get what they want, while also being perfectly terrible to each other, literally just using each other for their own gain. It's a very interesting relationship and maybe one of the most balanced and precise out of every other relationships. They're just... in sync.

And contrary to KaliJami, those three can very well work on their own without needing each other. They constantly do their own things, decide to ditch the others because they have something better to do elsewhere, etc.

All three of them say they are into this relationship purely out of personal gain. And, yeah, I'm sure they're getting a lot out of it and they even get to be selfish while still working well together. Buuuuut...

I mean, come on, the Tweels keep coming to Azul's rescue. They were super worried when the anemones disappeared and discovered Azul overblotted. Boys aren't hiding their feelings as well as they think. And Azul isn't any better.

You know what, I think I finally figured it out. I finally know what to call their relationship, despite my introductory statement.

They're siblings.

Azul has pretty much been adopted by the Tweels. Being selfish morons ready to throw each other under a bus while also going on a rampage as soon as a bully decides to target one of yours is 100% sibling-coded. And I'd know it, I almost got into a fistfight because my lil bro got punched once. And I'm usually ready to punch him myself.

The OctaTrio are siblings who know their relationship might not last forever, but who have nonetheless decided to make the most out of it.

[glasvera]

@nupppuff and @mosh-mosh, I hear you loud and clear! ;)

Blooded Moon

Moon Knight x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Description: When you're on the run, cursed to be a vampire and chased by the superheroes that want to save the city, Moon Knight finds you first. Maybe saving you isn't his best idea, but he'll be damned if he leaves you behind when you're this terrified. Being easy on the eyes also helps.

Warnings/Disclaimers: Gets a little spicy at the end but no smut (yet...?), cursing, angst, blood, blood-sucking, pretty vivid descriptions of the taste (I mean, it's a vampire reader, so what'd you expect?), hurt and comfort, starts out with you being chased

A/N: This has been cooking in my head since I got the first request for him, and honestly, I most likely will make a smutty part two. The main reason I took so long on it was because I wanted to research and be respectful of his DID, but then I ended up barely incorporating it anyway because I didn't feel it necessary and didn't wanna shoehorn it in either.

Word Count: 2.7k

You were one of the first to turn after the moon turned crimson and the sky froze in eternal night. It wasn’t something you asked for, and frankly, you were even more terrified now than you were before becoming a vampire. You weren’t looking for extra power, and even if it smells incredibly good now, the thought of drinking blood made your stomach turn.

The worst of it was how utterly alone you felt. You couldn’t go back to your apartment, returning to your job was out of the question, and you didn’t trust yourself around friends and family.

Oh, and there was the fact that being a vampire made you one of the targets of the superheroes trying to save the city.

This is how you find yourself now, scrambling over a concrete wall as your claws desperately search for purchase against the grit and gray. They're close now; you can hear the distinct rumble and whir of Iron Man's propulsion jets, and Moon Knight's steps clang against the rusted metal of a nearby fire escape. You manage to make it over the wall and into a small alley, tumbling into a pile of garbage bags that only barely soften your landing, but at least you can hide amongst the trash. You cower in the corner and desperately try to contain your breathing as staggered sobs choke in your throat. 

“I lost her!” you hear the distorted, robotic voice of Iron Man as he zips around in the sky.

“All right, you go check the other areas. I'll keep an eye on the ground here,” Moon Knight replies from what sounds like the next building over. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. But you're too weak; you've gone too long without the sustenance your body now craves, and you've expended far too much energy avoiding them until now. Your body trembles, your breaths quivering, and you cover your head with your hands as you curl up and wait for the inevitable. His steps get closer, closer, and you hear his boots crunching over piles of garbage. A soft whimper echoes in your throat.

Surprisingly, a gentle hand gloved in white rests on your shoulder. “Hey… he's gone. Are you okay?”

Wide-eyed, your vision flashes from that hand to the face of its owner, and you let out a terrified and shaky sound at the sight of Moon Knight's hooded and masked visage. His fingertips curl a bit firmer onto the tattered remnants of your sleeve before his thumb rubs soothingly against your skin.

“It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. I can tell you're scared,” he explains as he kneels next to you, his words cold comfort against the fear wracking your feeble frame. “Tony's an idiot; he thinks we're better off getting rid of most of the vampires… but you didn’t become one by choice, did you?”

You shake your head, nose sniffling before you wipe it on the back of your wrist. Even though you can't see his face, you can see the way his body slumps slightly and hear his heavy sigh.

“Thought so. Do you have somewhere safe to go?”

You shake your head again.

Moon Knight looks from side to side, and before you know it, he's scooping you out of the trash heap. You're too frozen to do anything about it, but honestly, you had been half expecting to die from this encounter anyway. Something about his hold is comforting, though, and you're finally able to relax ever so slightly. 

“I'm gonna get an earful for this later, but I'll take you somewhere safe. I promise,” he utters before carting you off into the eternal night. 

-----

You find yourself waiting in a lobby of the Baxter Building just outside the room where Iron Man and Moon Knight argue back and forth. Occasionally, you Mr. Fantastic butt in too.

“She could be dangerous! What if she brings more of them to her?”

“Our location hasn't been a problem in the past. Or did you forget that we're holed up in one of the most prominent buildings in New York City?” you hear Moon Knight's muffled voice through the wall fighting back.

“That's not what I meant! We don't know what these new vampires are capable of. If she's able to breach our defenses and let them in--”

“She didn't ASK for this!”

You jump in your seat when you hear the booming voice of your savior. It appears to have a similar effect on the rest of the room's occupants, as you can't seem to hear any more talking now. There's a murmuring of a woman's voice--likely Invisible Woman--but it's too quiet to make out the words. You hear stomping boots approaching the door and promptly sit up in your seat. Probably best that you don't let it be known that you were eavesdropping. 

The door opens with a click, and Moon Knight's white masked visage greets you. 

“Let’s go,” he says gruffly without any greeting. “I'm tired of dealing with these big time idiots.”

Unsure of what to offer in reply, you wordlessly stand and begin following him as he winds through the hallway towards an elevator. The air is heavy between you as you try to study him for any sign of what he's thinking. Though, you don’t have to wait long before he starts talking again.

“No, Khonshu. She’s different. Scared.”

“I-I’m not--”

But he seems to ignore you in favor of the voice only he can hear. “You--through me, I might add--are supposed to protect your travelers in the night. Why doesn’t she count as one of them?”

Suddenly he cries out, clutching his head in pain as he nearly doubles over. You instinctively reach a hand out to his shoulder before he flinches away from you, his movements panicked while he frantically grabs the railings along the elevator’s wall. Scared and unsure of what to do, if anything, to help him, you pull away and press your back against the opposite wall. Your breath shakes in staggered puffs through your nostrils.

“You know it to be true! You’re the one who talked about reversing it all! She needs our help!” he calls out to the air in anguish, and you can only watch on, terrified. After several more long moments, standing across from him as he slowly gains control of his breathing, it seems as though the intrusive presence he suffered has conceded for the moment. Something tells you that wouldn’t be the last time you would see him like that.

“...Moon Knight?” you murmur hesitantly, pushing off of the wall just barely. He’s still hunched over and shaking his head.

“Don’t… Don’t worry about me. Used to it,” he replies, and that’s all you get from him when you exit the elevator. He doesn’t speak again until you’ve made it to what seems to be his own private quarters for the time being.

His head turns to you, his masked face regarding you with unknown emotion. He cocks his head to the side, nodding for you to come in with him. “You’ll be safe here. Promise.”

It’s well-equipped, and it seems even more comfortable than your old apartment to boot. It makes sense, of course, but still, it’s so nice you almost feel like you’re intruding. You glance around at the standard yet luxurious furnishings, and you take note of the various bits of discarded clothing strewn about or the crumpled papers that didn’t quite make it into any of the waste bins. This eternal night must keep everyone busy at all hours.

“This is… I can’t--” you move to protest, but suddenly he draws back his hood and removes his mask.

“Don’t sweat it,” he interrupts you, giving you the barest hint of a smile. He’s handsome, you realize, with scruffy brown hair and kind doe eyes to match. “I saw how scared you were… it… reminded me of myself once upon a time. A fate thrust upon you that you never asked for. I could see it in your eyes.”

Your lips part softly before you press them shut once more, and your gaze finds sudden interest in the wooden floorboards.

“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it. ‘M just explaining my reasons,” he adds before he wanders further into the apartment. “...Even if Khonshu doesn’t like it one bit.”

Khonshu. There’s that name again, and you swear you’ve heard it somewhere before. “Is… Is Khonshu the one who made your head hurt in the elevator?”

Moon Knight scoffs, shaking his head as he pours you both glasses of water. “Yeah. He’s not too pleased by defiance, and he gets even more pissed off when I point out his bullshit. Typical god stuff.”

Your eyes go wide. “A… a god!?” you exclaim in surprise. Though, perhaps it shouldn’t be all that surprising, you realize, when you consider the amount of heroes and villains that are gods themselves.

“Khonshu, Egyptian god of the moon… and vengeance. What, did you think I picked the name because it sounded cool?” he jokes before handing you a glass.

“I…” You stop and bring the glass to your lips, choosing to shut yourself up instead of embarrassing yourself any further. The water is cool, and it should be refreshing, but it stings like ice going down your throat and leaves you feeling even more thirsty than before. You wince and nearly drop the glass, but he sees your reaction and catches your hand in his to steady it. “Shit…” you mutter, feeling ashamed at the weakness that washes over you… and the warmth you feel creeping up your face at his touch.

“Right. Vampire. Probably more in the mood for blood, huh?” he asks before taking the unwanted cup from your grasp. You vehemently shake your head, curling your lip in disgust, and he snickers. “Like it or not, that’s the only thing that’ll work for you right now.”

“And you, what, just have some on hand?” you inquire half-heartedly. “I don’t want it, either way. I can’t… I’m scared I’ll lose control if I give in.”

He sighs, shaking his head. Clearly you had missed something. “We can worry about it later if you’re so against it. For now, you should at least clean up and get some rest. I’ll keep Stark off your ass in the meantime. Bathroom’s down the hall and to the right. Should be a clean robe in there, and I’ll ask Sue if she’s got some clothes you can borrow.”

When he dons his mask and hood once more, readying himself to leave, you reach forward and catch him by the crook of his elbow. His head turns to face you, and you suddenly feel vulnerable once again under that unreadable stare.

“I… thank you. I don’t know how to repay you, or why you went through this much effort to help me, but… I am grateful,” you tell him softly as your fingertips curl into the white fabric of his sleeve.

“Repay me by staying alive. Make it through this with your humanity intact. It’s all any of us can do,” he responds, clasping his hand over yours. A muffled chuckle sounds through his mask as he adds, “Guess you being pretty might have had something to do with it, too. Wouldn’t mind coming back to that face for a while.”

Oh, how incredibly unfair of him to say that behind the safety of his mask. Your eyes turn to saucers, your grip loosens, and your jaw hangs agape while heat blossoms across your cheeks. No words find themselves before he withdraws, giving you a little wave and heading out the door.

-----

It’s been a few weeks now, and you have learned quite a bit during your stay. Moon Knight--or rather, the system that is Moon Knight--had opened up to you over time, and you had come to know not just Marc Spector, but Steven and Jake as well. His system as a whole seemed to take a liking to you, and on the rare occasions that he actually had the time, you would often sit together on the couch and talk about everything and nothing. He seemed strangely content to listen to you ramble on about your past life, the friends and family you left behind, even ready to offer you a tissue or a shoulder to cry on should you need it. You had little need for sleep anymore, so you were happy to indulge in time with him every chance you had. Never did you feel trapped in this apartment; in fact, you found yourself waiting in anticipation for him to come back after every mission. He was starting to invade your thoughts even when he wasn’t with you. No one had ever treated you like this before, comforting and caring for you without making you feel lesser or like a burden.

Of course, that didn’t diminish the hunger pangs that gnawed more and more fervently at your entire being with every passing day. Marc had warned you that it might be even more dangerous to go without blood for this long, but you held fast in your convictions, and he at least respected that.

That is, until that hunger has you doubled over before curling into a fetal position. It felt like your stomach was devouring itself before draining the rest of your vitality, sapping all the remaining energy you had as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. That’s how Marc finds you when he returns, bloody and bruised.

He’s never smelled better.

“Y/N!” he calls out, hurrying over as fast as his slight limp will allow. He rips off his mask and drops to his knees to cradle you in his arms. Your breathing is shallow, and there’s an unmistakable hunger in your bloodshot eyes. “Hang on, I’ll… I--”

He frantically glances around the room even as he scours his own brain, trying to think of anything to alleviate your suffering. He’s warmth, he’s comfort… but the pounding in your head, the red that blurs at the edges of your vision, you can’t… you can’t…

“Ah, shit--fuck!”

You come to after a few moments with a rush, groaning and inhaling deeply as your fangs dig into soft flesh. Coppery… salty… sweet… the heady feeling of hot crimson hits your tongue and you forget everything else. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck as his head lolls to one side, his grip on you tightening as you drink his life’s essence. Nothing has ever tasted so good, so fulfilling, so powerful. You fall deeper and deeper into hedonistic bliss and crawl into his lap, straddling him as you take and take and--

No. No, this isn’t you. You can’t--

You break free of your blood trance, ripping away from him as he eyes you groggily. His blood is still hot on your lips, tacky as it dries before you instinctively collect it with a swipe of your tongue. Bracing your hands on his shoulders while your claws reflexively dig into them, the realization of what you’ve done fills you with horror and dread, and you stiffen with a gasp.

“Marc, I’m so sorry, are you okay!? I--”

Your apologies are silenced when he crashes his lips against yours. It’s messy, metallic, your lips sticking together every time he pulls away for breath. His hands slide down your sides, tickling your ribs before trailing down to your hips and gripping tightly. He tugs you against him. A soft moan hums in your throat, and his tongue takes the opportunity and delves into your mouth. Blood dilutes into saliva as he seems to seek it out, devouring you body and soul through his lips and tongue. To say your mind was a mess was an understatement: a violent whirlpool swirls with your emotions. You feel alive again, rejuvenated, powerful. But then there’s shock, arousal, a different hunger, a longing that leaves you panting.

Weeks worth of tentative talks and longing glances, coupled with the passionate hunger that accompanies your vampiric nature, have come to a head. When he draws back, chocolate eyes blackened with lust, his own blood smeared across his lips even as it trickles from the fresh wound on his neck, you knew one thing with certainty:

Moon Knight was an absolute freak. And you were so into it.

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

If you could write Raphael in as a companion, how would be be recruited? What would his approvals/dissaprovals be? What is his personal quest? Would he be romancable?

That's alot of questions!

Ok settle in because this is going to be a big read. I put way more thought into this than I should have lol

Disclaimer: Obviously this isn't going to align with canon and will require a disregard for most of the story beats involving Raphael as an NPC, like the entire House of Hope quest. This is just a fun little "what if" and isn't to be taken seriously.

Recruiting Raphael:

He will find you. Either one night in camp or in one of many spawn triggers on the map in the wilds. His conversation about the tadpole and offering his deal will be mostly the same. In order to recruit him, you must express interest in the deal. Either by agreeing right away, or saying you'll consider it. Raphael's responses are basically all the same even if you agree to the deal, he won't actually make you sign a contract. He'll tell you to "shop around".

Then, you must ask "if I do want to take this deal, where would I find you?"

Raphael's response will be something along the lines of:

"I'll be around. In fact, maybe I could join you in this little misadventure. I'll lounge about in your camp while you run around looking for answers. I could offer sage advice, experience, or even be a confidant."

DIALOGUE TREE:

"If you'd like to join us, by all means. We could use all the help we can get."  ←

"No, no way."

"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?"

"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"It's settled then, I'm sure I will be a very valuable asset. This is going to be fun."

"If you'd like to join us, by all means"

"No, no way." ←

"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?"

"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you"

"As you wish. You'll change your mind. Of that, I am certain. And at that time. It will be too late. Best of luck."

The party will be transported back to camp/where Raphael spawned.

"If you'd like to join us, by all means"

"No, no way."

"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?" ←

"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you"

"There's something about you that I find fascinating. I think it would be to our mutual benefit, should I join your merry little band." (back to dialogue tree)

"If you'd like to join us, by all means"

"No, no way."

"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?"

"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you" ←

"Oh, I am counting on it. I'll be keeping mine, on you. I'll see you soon."

All dialogues except the outright refusal will result in the party being teleported back to the spawn, or back to camp, where Raphael will be waiting.

If you refuse to recruit Raphael, he will be seen again at Last Light, talking to Mol. You only get that once chance though to recruit him. After that, he operates similarly as he does in game as an NPC for Astarion's personal quest. He will be present again in act III in The Devils Den as set dressing for Sharess' Caress. In which case you can talk to him about what he's doing there. He will say he's just enjoying the show, watching the group run around trying to save themselves. You can ask if he would still join the group, at which he will laugh and say.

"Oh no my dear, that ship sailed long ago. Now, I'm just here to witness the carnage, and benefit from all this tragedy."

If you do let him join, he will remain in camp for all of act I and act as a giver of advice/merchant for rare items. He accepts soul coins as currency. In act II, he will leave for a few long rests to get information regarding Astarion's scars, once that event is triggered.

If Raphael does join the party, you will need to do a skill check to keep both Wyll and Karlach. If you fail to convince them to stay, they will leave the party or even become hostile, by some dialogues.

Raphael's Personal Quest:

His personal quest will align with his desires in the base game. He will have much to say that provides context to certain story beats he was previously involved in. Such as the Shar stronghold in the Underdark. If Halsin is not alive, Raphael can be a means to get information regarding Moonrise, the shadow curse, and the Shar stronghold. He will not have a romance scene at the party. Though much flirting can be exchanged and you can choose to think about him as you go to rest for the night.

The first thing he will ask you to do is help him kill Yurgir in The Shadowlands. If you do kill Yurgir, he will help Astarion with his scars. If you don't he will greatly disapprove and you will need to "convince" him to stay. He's messing with you. The skill checks don't actually matter, though they will have different dialogue responses depending on success/failure, and start the player off on lower approval than if you did kill the orthon. Though if you do refuse to kill Yurgir, his romance arc is locked and you cannot romance him later.

This is when he will officially join the party. I think he'd be a bard, so that's what his class is in this little "what if".

His personal quest then involves the crown of Karsus in act III. His arc will include "Archdevil Supreme" or convincing him to give up the crown. With resulting romance/platonic cutscenes for both.

Approvals:

Prioritising yourselves over the problems of others.

Agreeing to help others, for a price.

Exploiting people.

Anything he finds entertaining, like interrupting the bugbear and ogre.

Disapprovals:

Being kind/taking on quests for nothing in return.

Siding with the Absolute cult.

Using illithid powers.

Raphael Romance:

This is a tricky one. I think his romance would be mostly backloaded and starts in act II. If you talk with him at the party and express interest, you two can exchange some steamy words as he recites a poem he wrote for you. You can then either laugh at him and reject his advances, or say you like his way with words. He will then express a very primal interest in you, and say it's best if he let it fester a while. He wants to string you along a little. His greetings won't change, and there won't really be anything to indicate that the dating flag has been set. But if you flirt with him and express your own interest, it will be flagged. You will also have the option to tell him you just don't see him in that way, that you prefer to keep the relationship 'professional'.

In act II, (if you expressed interest previously) after you kill Yurgir, and Raphael joins the party officially. Raphael will have started off with more approval than the other companions, if the romance dialogues were met in act I and you asked him questions about himself/expressed gratitude for his advice when speaking with him in camp. If his approval is lower, you will have chances to get it up around the shadowlands. After approval is high enough, he will approach you and say he has enjoyed his time with you with an odd amount of sincerity. He will say he sees the potential in you and what you and him can accomplish together. That he has been watching the way you lead and handle yourself. And that, oddly enough, he has admiration for you. (side note, there would probably be more dialogue if the player is a dark urge/raided the grove. But I don't have enough brain juice for that currently.)

DIALOGUE TREE (there's lead up of course but I can't be bothered lol so here's the lock in dialogue):

"I spend most of my time categorising people by what use they have to me. And you have proven yourself very useful. But there's something else. Something I haven't experienced in another person for...A long time. I have grown quite fond of you, you know- in my way. Unexpected, but not repulsive. I very much enjoy you and your company."

What are you saying? ←

So I've just been your pawn this entire time?

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.

"I'm saying, I would like to be something more. Something other than the professional relationship between future client and patron. I would like you to be my paramour, my flame, my right hand. I would like to discuss my plans with you, and lie with you at night."

What are you saying?

So I've just been your pawn this entire time? ←

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.

*laughs* "Well, yes. I thought that was obvious, dear. But I would like to be something more than that. You have impressed me in many ways. You're ruthless, you're determined, and most of all, you seem to also be interested in me. I would like you to be my paramour. My right hand. Someone to discuss my plans with, and lie with at night."

What are you saying?

So I've just been your pawn this entire time?

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that. ←

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.

"You've made it quite obvious, my dear. I'm flattered, really. But if flattery is not the limit of your intentions, I would very much like to explore something more. I would like you to be my paramour. My right hand. Someone to discuss my plans with, and lie with at night."

What are you saying?

So I've just been your pawn this entire time?

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way. ←

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.

"How interesting. I was sure- No matter. If that is how you feel, that is how it is. I may have overestimated you. That's it then, no more has to be said. Have a wonderful evening, dear."

What are you saying?

So I've just been your pawn this entire time?

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole. ←

*laughs* "Well well, I seems to me that I have given you entirely too much credit. So be it. You will continue to be my puppet, and I will continue to enjoy watching you squirm for your worthness, pathetic life."

Every option besides the rejection one has that similar dialogue. If you agree to the romance, being the one he lies with, he will smile and take the players hand to kiss the back of it. Raphael will then snap his fingers and the two will be transported to a very cozy room with candles and a very large bed. After some more dialogue, the player can choose to have sex with Raphael in either his human or cambion form. Maybe I'll write that section in more detail in a smut or something but for now just use your imagination lol

In act III, Raphael will express a similar interest in the crown of Karsus as Gale does. His iconic monologue about Karsus will still exist. You can either encourage this in a similar fashion, or convince him that uniting the hells would be an impossible task and a death sentence. If you go Archdevil Supreme route, Raphael will become the ruler of the nine hells and you will live there with him as his infernal spouse. He will be loving but distant, and busy. Running all nine hells takes alot of work. The player will want for nothing though. They will have access to every outlet of pleasure and luxury possible. The player will also go through a subtle but apparent transformation to be a little more fiendish, so they can tolerate the environment of the hells. If convinced to give up the crown, he will continue as he is. He will go from between the House of Hope and wherever the player is. He will spoil the player as much as he can and visit often. Sometimes the player will visit him as well. But they still lead their own lives.

I'm sure I could refine the romance arc but I think these are good bones for now.

Thank you for the question! I spent like three days thinking about this lmao.

[maretinelli]

SPILLED COFFEE

Lewis Hamilton X Journalist!fem!reader

Summary: On her first day covering F1, Y/n meets Lewis Hamilton in an unexpected way—by spilling coffee on him before a press conference. What starts with laughter and meeting at the Paddock soon turns into a friendship that can go beyond feelings.

Words: 5.8K+

Warnings: Nothing(??) just cute and romantic.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story.

MASTERLIST

It was the Spanish Grand Prix. The paddock was buzzing with the typical morning activity of a race weekend. The sky was clear, and the heat was starting to intensify, even at that hour.

Team members hurried past, engineers chatted in groups analyzing data, and journalists strategically positioned themselves to capture the best moments of the day.

Y/n, however, didn't have time to appreciate the scenery.

She walked quickly across the paddock, slinging her bag over her shoulder, which held a microphone, question sheets, and other essential equipment. In her other hand, she held a large cup of iced coffee, still untouched.

She knew exactly why she was late. Talking too much. It was an innate talent—or maybe a flaw, depending on the situation.

The friendly waitress at the coffee shop had been a great listener, and between one conversation and another, Y/n had simply lost track of time. Now, she should be in the press room, getting everything ready and waiting for the pilots who could arrive at any moment.

"Microphone, chips, recorder... It's all here, isn't it? Oh, what the hell, Y/n, why do you do this every time?"

The problem was, she wasn't really looking in front of her. The impact was unexpected.

In her haste and distraction, Y/n felt her shoulder bump against something solid - or rather, someone. The impact caused her iced coffee to fly out of her hand and splash directly onto the person's chest, staining the white fabric. The liquid ran down her impeccable shirt, creating a large brownish stain.

She quickly stepped back, trying to keep her balance so she wouldn't fall to the ground. Her eyes widened as she realized what she had just done.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! I swear I didn't see you, I was looking at my bag and-"

The words came out in a rush, one excuse after another, as she finally looked up at the victim of her morning disaster.

Lewis Hamilton.

His sweet smile contrasted with the large coffee stain on his white Mercedes shirt. The fact that he had spilled coffee on someone was bad enough. But that someone was Lewis Hamilton, and that made it a thousand times worse.

And, as if that weren't enough, he was one of the drivers who should have been at the press conference, which was probably already starting.

"Oh no... I made you late too! I'm a mess!" She exclaimed, feeling even more guilty. "What do I do? How do I get this stain out? Is there anything in the Mercedes that can help? Or maybe-"

"Hey, hey, calm down!" Lewis laughed, interrupting her barrage of apologies. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. "It's okay, really. It happens. I also wasn't looking where I was going because... well, I'm late too."

Relief washed over Y/n at hearing this, though the guilt was still there. She let out a small sigh and smiled, more at ease.

"Still, I'm sorry."

Lewis looked down at his shirt and shrugged, still smiling. "Don't worry, I've learned some techniques for removing stains from white shirts from my mom."

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head. "So you're a pilot and a laundry expert? Impressive."

"Something like that." He joked, laughing.

His gaze then slid to her arm, where a large, colorful tattoo stood out. He pointed curiously.

"That's very beautiful. Tribute?"

Surprised by the comment, Y/n stretched out her arm, allowing him to see better. Lewis smiled as he noticed the details of the drawing.

She nodded, a nostalgic glint in her eyes. "Yeah... my dad and I did it together for my birthday. He always said we'd do something special when I turned 18. That was our special thing and..." Lewis smiled, clearly enjoying the story, but before Y/n could say anything else, reality hit. "Oh, forget it...!" She shook her head, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I have to go, I'm really late for a meeting."

Lewis laughed at her sudden change of mood. "And I need to change clothes and go to the interview, so I guess we're even."

She took a few steps back, pointing at his shirt, grimacing guiltily. "Sorry again about that..."

Lewis just laughed, loud and genuine. "Okay, really."

They exchanged one last friendly smile before each of them went their separate ways. When Y/n turned around, she let out a sigh and smiled to herself.

She quickened her pace, now focused on finding the TV crew's photographer. The walk to him was quick, and when she arrived, she stopped in front of him, a little out of breath.

The teammate crossed his arms, his expression unimpressed. “You’re 20 minutes late.”

She smiled guiltyly, still catching her breath. "I know, I know..."

He sighed, pointing to his watch. "The interview should have started by now."

Y/n sighed, still trying to catch her breath, and quickly handed the bag to the photographer. "Sorry, really. But I'm here now, let's go."

Without wasting any more time, she began to help him prepare the camera, quickly adjusting the equipment. Once everything was ready, the two entered the large room where the press conference would take place.

Luckily for Y/n, the interview hadn’t started yet. The pilots were finishing adjusting their microphones, and the journalists were taking their places, reviewing notes and testing their equipment. She let out a long sigh of relief.

Moving quickly between other reporters and excusing herself here and there, Y/n positioned herself in the spot reserved for her team. Her name tag and company name marked her space.

Sitting down, she took her cards out of her bag and began to organize them, checking her questions. She adjusted her microphone and looked around, making sure she was ready.

The interview began with one of the journalists directing the first question to Verstappen.

"Max, you've performed well in free practice so far, but you mentioned that you were struggling a bit with the balance of the car. What have you adjusted for qualifying and how do you expect that to affect your race?"

Max leaned forward a little to answer. "Yeah, we worked really hard on it..." He began, but the buzz in the room suddenly increased.

Lewis had just arrived.

He weaved his way past the other pilots, moving with the natural confidence he always carried. "Sorry I'm late, guys," he said with a smile as he settled into his seat and adjusted his microphone.

Now he was wearing a clean, impeccable black Mercedes blouse.

As Max continued his response, Lewis looked around the room, observing the journalists who filled the first rows. It was then that his eyes found Y/n.

For a brief moment, he looked surprised. His eyes widened a little, but soon a smile formed on his face.

Y/n, who was already watching him, smiled back and discreetly pointed to her own blouse. A subtle gesture, saying: There was time to change, huh?

Lewis held back his laughter and nodded slightly, as if in confirmation.

Satisfied, Y/n looked down at her lap, where her chips were and the microphone was still turned off, waiting for the right moment to use it. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure, but a part of her couldn't help but find the coincidence of that morning meeting with Lewis amusing.

Once Max finished answering his questions, the moderator gave the floor to the next journalist. Y/n picked up her own microphone, turning it on with a soft click.

"Good morning Lewis, my question for you is about the progress of Mercedes this weekend. In free practice we saw you trying out different aerodynamic setups and, despite some balance issues, the race pace looked promising. Based on the data you gathered, what are your expectations for qualifying and the race? Do you feel you can challenge Red Bull and Ferrari here in Spain?"

Lewis listened attentively, tilting his head slightly as he processed the question. Then, he took the microphone and smiled before answering.

"Great question. I think this weekend has been interesting for us indeed. We are constantly trying to understand the car better and make improvements. Here in Spain, a traditionally technical circuit, we have been able to collect good data, especially on tyre wear and performance in long runs. We know that Red Bull and Ferrari still have an advantage, but we believe we can put ourselves in a strong position to fight on Sunday. The key will be a good qualifying, so we need to maximise every detail."

He ended his answer with a warm smile in Y/n's direction. She returned the smile and took the opportunity to ask her second question.

"Thinking about the race, the Spanish circuit has been challenging in recent years in terms of overtaking. Do you believe that the updates that Mercedes has brought can help in this aspect, giving you more confidence to attack if you start behind?"

Lewis nodded, appreciating the question.

"Yes, this has always been a tricky circuit for overtaking, so strategy and tyre management will be crucial. But yes, the updates we've brought in are very much focused on the stability of the car at high speeds and traction out of corners, so I believe that if we need to make up positions we'll have good pace to do so."

Y/n smiled, satisfied with the answers. "Thank you, Lewis." She turned off the microphone and sat in her designated chair, letting the other journalists take over the next questions.

However, without her noticing, Lewis kept his gaze on her for a few more seconds, until another question directed at him caught her attention.

The next journalist, excited, asked bluntly: "Lewis, everyone noticed you were a little late. What happened?"

He chuckled a little, lowering his head before answering. “Ah… well, there was a little mishap in the paddock on my way here.” He smiled and paused dramatically. “Apparently, coffee was spilled on my white blouse. But in the end, I was the one who apologized… because the woman who did it was definitely the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The answer took everyone by surprise. Laughter echoed around the room, some drivers teased Lewis with humorous comments, and journalists murmured among themselves.

Y/n, in turn, raised her eyebrows slightly, surprised by the statement. But soon her expression was replaced by a surprised smile and then by an amused giggle. She shook her head slightly, trying to disguise the way her face heated up at the unexpected joke.

Lewis, on the other hand, just smirked and cast a discreet glance in her direction, as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

The press conference continued with a dynamic flow of questions and answers. In addition to Max and Lewis, the other two drivers present were Lando Norris and Carlos Sainz.

Y/n did a good job of directing questions to both of them, showing that she had done a thorough research job. For Lando, she asked about the improvements that McLaren had brought for that weekend and how he saw the team's evolution in the midfield battle. For Carlos, she focused on the pressure of racing at home and how that influenced his mental performance during the weekend.

They both responded sympathetically, and she managed to keep the interview going at a good pace, which was essential for someone who was running the job alone that weekend.

When the press conference finally ended, Y/n took a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility lift off her shoulders.

"You did really well today," his fellow photographer said as he dismantled his equipment and put his camera back in his bag.

Y/n laughed, thanking me. "Thank you. But if you knew what I did before I found you, you'd definitely be on edge."

He arched an eyebrow, curious. "What did you do?"

She held back a laugh before replying. "I spilled coffee on Lewis Hamilton."

"SO IT WAS YOU?" The photographer paused for a second before letting out a loud laugh. "You're kidding!"

"I wish." Y/n replied, laughing along. "I literally bumped into him in the paddock, spilled my entire coffee on his white shirt, kept apologizing like crazy, and he... well, he was incredibly cool about it."

Her colleague was still laughing at the scene he imagined in his head. "And he even got a compliment on the world wide web, because apparently you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen in his life."

Y/n shook her head, feeling her face heat up slightly. "It was just a joke, he doesn't even know me."

The photographer crossed his arms, laughing. "Joke or not, you became the highlight of the press conference."

She shrugged, still amused by it all. Then, as if speaking more to herself than to him, she commented, "But he really is very handsome... especially up close."

The colleague laughed and agreed. "Oh, that's true. The guy has an absurd presence."

With that, they finished organizing everything and moved on to other tasks for the day.

The afternoon settled in the paddock, and the characteristic buzz of the environment continued. Y/n was now sitting in the same coffee shop where, earlier, she had bought the coffee that ended up causing all the confusion.

This time, however, her attention was fully focused on her work. Her laptop was open on her desk, and sheets of notes were scattered around her. Her gaze flicked between the papers and the screen, typing quickly as she organized the press conference material and adjusted the main points for the story she needed to submit.

Even while concentrating, every now and then a small smile appeared on her lips as she remembered the scene from that morning. It was definitely not every day that someone spilled coffee on Lewis Hamilton and, on the same day, heard such praise from him.

Y/n was so focused on the computer screen, trying to organize the information and write what she would need for the article, that she didn't notice when someone approached her desk.

She was so startled that she nearly dropped everything when a large glass of iced coffee was placed next to her. She frowned in confusion, because she hadn't ordered anything since she sat down there.

She looked down at the glass, then quickly looked up, and that was when her eyes met Lewis's. He had an easy smile on his face, clearly enjoying the scare she had gotten.

"I think you need some coffee to calm down." He commented, chuckling softly.

Y/n sighed in relief and laughed. "You scared me."

Lewis shrugged, as if it wasn’t his fault. “I’m a pretty good scarer, apparently.” He pointed to the cup. “I brought you a coffee, as an apology. After all, I ended up making you lose your coffee, so I figured you deserved one on me.”

Y/n smiled, a little shyly, before shaking her head. "I'm the one who got into a fight with you. If anyone should apologize, it's me. I was late and ended up making a mess."

Lewis laughed softly, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter who was at fault.” He chuckled and leaned forward a little. “What matters is that I wanted to bring you some coffee and see you one more time.”

Those words, spoken so casually, made Y/n's cheeks flush. She looked away for a moment, trying to compose herself, before looking at him again.

Lewis then looked at the empty chair in front of him and asked with a smile, "Can I sit here?"

She smiled, feeling her heart race a little. "Sure, you can sit down."

Lewis settled into his chair, and Y/n began to gather the papers on the table, organizing them into a folder as he watched closely. He noticed that she was clearly busy with something important, so he hesitated for a moment.

"Sorry, I didn't see you were working. If you want, I can come back later." He said, his tone softer and more respectful.

Y/n shook her head, smiling softly. "It's okay. I needed a break anyway, and now is a perfect time."

Lewis smiled, watching as she closed the laptop, gathered the remaining sheets, and carefully placed them inside the folder before setting it aside.

After that, she placed the coffee cup in the center of the table, as if that was the official sign that she was, in fact, taking a break from work.

"It's brave of you to want to spend time talking to a journalist."

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. "I guess I've been through enough interviews that I don't get scared that easily."

Y/n smiled as she took a sip of her coffee.

A small silence settled between them. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it carried with it that slight tension of two people who didn't yet know each other very well.

Lewis shifted his gaze to her arm, where the colorful tattoo caught his attention once again. He pointed discreetly with his finger.

"Are you a Senna fan too?"

Y/n automatically followed his gaze to her arm and smiled, almost instinctively. "Yes, very much. My father is Brazilian, so I grew up watching races with him. Senna has always been our idol. On my 18th birthday, I decided to get this tattoo in honor of him. My father was so touched that he wanted to get one too, so we ended up going together. It was one of the most special moments of my life." She smiled. "And well, that was a loooooong time ago."

As she spoke, her eyes shone with genuine affection, and her smile had a hint of nostalgia.

Lewis felt something electrifying in his chest. Talking about Ayrton Senna always brought out something intense in him, but knowing that Y/n also admired him deeply created an instant connection between them.

"He was my childhood hero," Lewis said, his eyes taking on a special light. "I always say he was the reason I started racing. I would watch his races and be fascinated by the way he drove, the passion he put into everything... Senna was different."

Y/n nodded, smiling. "Yes... my father always said that Senna was more than a driver, he was a symbol."

"And he was right." Lewis agreed, relaxing further in his chair.

From then on, the conversation flowed naturally. They began to exchange stories about their memories related to the Brazilian idol, about iconic moments from his races and even about how Ayrton had inspired so many generations on and off the track.

The awkward atmosphere that existed before gradually dissipated, giving way to an unexpected lightness.

As they talked, Y/n raised her coffee cup to her lips from time to time, slowly sipping Lewis's unexpected gift. And for the first time that day, she didn't feel rushed at all.

••••••••••••••••••••••

It was qualifying day, and the tension in the air was palpable. The roar of engines echoed in the background as engineers ran back and forth in the pits, ensuring everything was perfect for the drivers. Fans crowded into the stands, eager to see who would secure pole position for the next day's race.

Y/n was positioned in an area near the track where journalists gathered to interview the drivers right after qualifying. Next to her, her colleague held the camera, while she adjusted the microphone. They were live for the TV crew they worked for, and she had already interviewed two drivers.

She was finishing interviewing the third, a driver who was still slightly out of breath from the effort on the track.

"Thank you for your participation, Piastri!" Y/n smiled, holding the microphone as the pilot nodded.

"Thank you." Oscar replied with a smile before quickly placing a hand on her shoulder in a brief gesture of thanks and leaving the press area.

Y/n then turned to interview the last pilot assigned to her team. As soon as she looked up, she found Lewis standing behind her, with his usual easy smile.

Before she could say anything, he placed both hands on her shoulders and gave her a brief, relaxed massage, as if he were playing to ease the tension.

"Working hard, huh?" He teased, an amused glint in his eye.

Y/n smiled, feeling her shoulders relax for a moment before shaking her head and straightening her posture. Because they were still live. "Someone has to do the hard work."

He replied, laughing before adjusting the microphone and looking at him more seriously. "Congratulations on qualifying today, Lewis. You've put yourself in a great position for the race. How did the car perform on track today?"

"Thanks! The car handled really well, I think we managed to find a good balance over the weekend. There are still a few details to fine-tune, but overall I'm pretty happy with the lap we did today."

Y/n nodded and continued: "Considering the performance of your opponents and the position you will start in tomorrow, what will be the main challenge for the race?"

Lewis smiled, clearly enjoying the interview. "I think the start will be crucial, as always. It's important to hold the position and, if possible, gain some. Tyre management will also be essential, as wear seems high at this circuit. But we are prepared to fight for the best possible result."

Y/n smiled, satisfied with the answer. "It looks like it's going to be an exciting race! Thanks for the interview, Hamilton."

He held her gaze for a moment before smiling warmly. "The pleasure was all mine. Always great to be interviewed by you."

Y/n tried to hide it, but an involuntary smile escaped her lips. Lewis noticed and his own smile widened a little more. Before walking away, he patted her affectionately on the shoulder, as if to say 'Good job.'

She watched him walk away for a moment before turning her attention back to her teammate, who was filming the whole thing with a mischievous grin on his face.

Y/n smiled at the camera, returning to her professional tone. "And that concludes our coverage of today's qualifying! Tomorrow, the drivers will be back on track for what promises to be an exciting race. Stay tuned to follow everything with us. See you then!"

Her teammate gave her a discreet nod, indicating that he had stopped recording. Once the camera was turned off, Y/n sighed in relief and let out a nervous giggle.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this alone," she confessed, turning off the microphone.

His friend just smiled. "You studied hard for this, Y/n. Now's your chance to enjoy the view from this side." He made a wide gesture with his hand, as if showing the entire paddock in front of them.

She laughed, shaking her head, but she knew he was right. She was here, covering an event by herself, and she was doing well.

Together they began to pack up their equipment and walked around the paddock, chatting casually. That's when Y/n felt a hand land lightly on her shoulder. Turning around, she found Lewis smiling at her.

"Hey," he said, relaxed.

"Hey," she replied with an automatic smile.

His colleague looked from Lewis to Y/n, arching his eyebrows with a mischievous smile before taking a step back.

"Well, I'm going. I need to get back to the hotel and prepare myself emotionally for a date later."

Y/n laughed. "It'll be okay. See you tomorrow morning here at the paddock."

He winked at her and left, leaving Y/n and Lewis alone.

When she turned back to the pilot, she noticed that he looked a little nervous. His smile didn't have the same confidence it usually had.

"Can I play journalist now and ask you a question?"

Y/n laughed at the comment. "Sure."

Lewis hesitated for a second before asking, "Do you... have a boyfriend, fiancé, or husband?"

Y/n frowned for a moment, holding back a laugh at the direct way he asked.

Lewis noticed and laughed a little too, shaking his head. "I mean... do you have someone? Any plans?"

"No, I don't have anyone." She tilted her head, crossing her arms. "Why?"

Lewis smiled, running his hand over the back of his neck, looking a little less confident than usual. "Because I wanted to ask you out to dinner sometime."

She blinked in surprise, and then a smile grew on her face. Her heart raced a little, but in a good way.

"Ah..." She chuckled softly, feeling a wave of heat rise in her chest. "Yes, I would love to."

Lewis smiled broadly and with relief. "Great! Great..."

Y/n laughed when she noticed his slight hesitation. It was funny to see the seven (eight) times world champion like that.

"But I know you're busy right now." He continued, lightly gesturing to the notepad in her hand. "And I also need to get back to the garage to talk to the engineers. We'll talk then!"

"Yeah, I have some stuff to finish." She agreed, still smiling.

They shared one last look before Y/n took a step back, walking away. But before she could get too far, she heard Lewis call her name.

“Y/n!”

She turned, seeing him take a few quick steps towards her.

"Your phone number!"

"You almost forgot the most important part." She laughed.

"Yeah, I almost let it go." He joked, taking his cell phone out of his pocket.

Y/n started to say the numbers while Lewis typed them into his phone, saving the contact with a satisfied smile.

"I'll send you a message. And then we'll arrange a day."

"Ok."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

They exchanged one last smile before saying goodbye for good. Y/n continued on her way through the paddock, but this time she couldn't keep the smile off her face. They acted like two silly teenagers in love in high school.

The weeks passed in the blink of an eye, and the relationship between Y/n and Lewis became something natural, part of their routine. If they didn't see each other in person, they were exchanging messages, sending funny photos or calling to tell each other the news of the day. Even the silliest things became a reason for long conversations.

Y/n🩷: Lewis, I need a serious opinion.

Lew❤️: Send it.

Y/n🩷: If I buy these pants, do you think I'll look like an 80-year-old lady going to buy bread?

The message Y/n sent was accompanied by a photo of her in the mirror, trying on the item of clothing.

Lew❤️: It depends. Are you going to buy bread?

Y/n🩷: LEWIS!

What about connections? They became frequent. If Lewis was in a different time zone, he would still find a way to at least send an audio message or wait for Y/n to wake up to call.

"What do you think of this cookie? Is it good?" Y/n was at the market, shopping while Lewis was on a break from one of his workouts and on the phone with her.

"I don't like it very much. But my mom and nephews love it!! Take it and try it." He smiles from the other side of the phone screen. Y/n smiles and puts the food package in the shopping cart.

And for weeks, with messages, phone calls and random photos exchanged, they still tried to find a free day so they could both go out to the pilot's promised dinner. Their schedules never managed to synchronize with each other, but for now they were content with the friend zone they were in.

But not for long.

Another race weekend had begun and, before everyone went about their business, Lewis arranged to meet Y/n at a café inside the paddock.

Sitting at a table on the porch, he wore sunglasses and looked at his cell phone, seemingly focused. The atmosphere was pleasant, and he was enjoying the moment of calm before the chaos of the day began.

And then he was caught off guard when a loud crash echoed across the table.

He almost dropped his cell phone in shock, and when he looked at the table he saw a pile of papers spread across the top, accompanied by a glass full of milky tea.

He pushed up his glasses, frowning. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed, blinking at the panting figure in front of him.

Y/n threw herself into the chair, letting out a long sigh before blurting out, "I'm going to be a teacher!"

"What exactly does that mean?" Lewis frowned, puzzled.

Y/n rested both elbows on the table, looking directly at him. "Apparently, a professor from the University of London is going on maternity leave. She teaches journalism..." She began, picking up one of the papers and rolling it between her fingers. "And so, the director of the course asked me to replace her for at least a year."

"Really?" Lewis's eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"Yes. I studied at the same university and, according to him, I have a great resume, both as a student and now as a professional." She laughed a little, shaking her head. "Little does he know that I slept through every sociology class."

"You? Sleeping in class?" Lewis chuckled.

"I would always sit in the back and pretend to write something down." He admitted with a shrug.

"And you accepted the offer?"

"I accept!!" He replied with a small smile. "I like a challenge. I love my job here, especially now as the station's main journalist. But I think it will be fun to teach a bunch of annoying teenagers."

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. "They won't be THAT boring. And honestly, you're going to be an amazing teacher."

Y/n smiled at his words, but soon saw Lewis's curious expression as he looked at the glass next to her.

"Wait a... What's wrong today?" He narrowed his eyes. "You're drinking tea, not coffee."

She laughed, picking up the cup and taking another sip. "I'm nervous about this whole teaching thing. Coffee would just make me more anxious, so I ordered tea." Y/n paused, wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "But it's horrible. Milk tea is the worst thing ever invented."

Lewis rolled his eyes, laughing, before taking the cup of tea from Y/n. "Just because I'm a gentleman, we can trade." He said, handing her the cappuccino that was sitting next to him.

Y/n smiled and accepted the cup, taking a sip before sighing contentedly. "Now that's life. For a moment there, I thought I was going to have to sue this coffee shop for emotional damages."

"You're very dramatic." Lewis laughed, shaking his head.

Silence hung between the two for a moment. Y/n turned her head, looking at the track in the distance, the wind subtly messing up her hair. Lewis, without realizing it, began to admire her, his eyes focused on her serene expression.

Without taking his eyes off her, he rested his face in his hands.

"Well... since you're leaving and we won't see each other around here for a few months... do you want to go out with me today?"

Y/n turned to face him, an amused expression appearing on her face. "Um, I don't know, I have to check my schedule..." She said, pretending to be thoughtful. "But maybe I have a little space for you."

Lewis let out a laugh.

"Look, I'm honored to have been considered," he replied, joining in the fun.

She laughed, shaking her head, before finally saying, "Yeah, I'll go out with you."

Lewis smiled broadly, and then began talking about his plans for the evening. Y/n just listened to him, smiling, watching the excitement with which he described everything.

The previous weeks of texts, phone calls and quick meetings in the paddocks had brought them closer than they could have imagined. It was in the small details that they realized they were in love.

The way Lewis smiled when he saw Y/n's name appear on his phone screen. The way she laughed at his jokes, even the bad ones. The comfort they found in each other, without needing much effort.

And that night, everything seemed to fall into place.

Night fell, and Lewis picked her up from her hotel. He took her to a private restaurant tucked away among the charming streets of the Austrian city. The atmosphere was sophisticated yet welcoming.

They ate, talked, laughed. Every detail seemed perfect, and neither of them wanted the night to end.

Lewis walked her back to the hotel, walking beside her through the hallways. When they stopped in front of Y/n's room door, for a moment, they just looked at each other the connection between the two was palpable, something that already existed before that meeting, but which now seemed even more intense.

The pilot approached slowly, his eyes fixed on hers, waiting for any sign of hesitation. But Y/n just smiled softly, her heart racing.

It was then that he kissed her.

The touch was soft at first, a delicate brush of lips, as if testing something they already knew would be right. But soon the kiss deepened, hot and enveloping, loaded with all the weeks of pent-up feelings. Lewis's hands slid to Y/n's waist, while she grabbed the collar of his coat, pulling him closer. And when they separated, they both smiled, as if they understood that this was just the beginning.

And the days passed, and the meetings between them became frequent.

When Y/n started teaching, her routine became even busier, but she always found time to call Lewis, telling him about every detail of her day.

"My students called me 'Miss Y/n' today. I'm feeling old."

"Welcome to the club."

She laughed out loud, throwing her head back a little. "And how was training?"

Lewis smiled as he heard her voice on the other end of the line, leaning against the headboard of the bed. "Not bad. But now I can only think of your voice calling me 'Mr. Hamilton' to see what it's like."

"It won't happen."

The two laughed, and the conversation went on until late.

Whenever he could, Lewis would go to London to spend a few days with her. They would explore the city together, go out for dinner, stay home and watch movies, and simply enjoy each other's company.

Until, one night, something unexpected happened.

Y/n was in the kitchen, preparing dinner while talking non-stop about some student who had asked a completely absurd question in class. Lewis listened to her with a smile on his face, leaning against the counter.

In the middle of a sentence, she noticed he was unusually quiet.

"You're not even listening, are you?" He teased, turning to face him.

And then she saw it. Lewis was standing there, holding a small velvet box open, and inside it, an engagement ring glinted in the kitchen light. And in that moment, she knew the answer without even having to think. Yes.

[lynnie-s3all]

any forsaken killers and maybe chance with a reader thats like ignored perchance

Alright. I'm not gonna do Jason for obvious reasons. I kinda disliked him. So...

I'll try my best to make the most of the headcanons since I'm very much a lazy person to do all the requests. Like... i got eyebags on me.

Forsaken killers + Chance x reader who gets ignored most of the time.

Despite c00lkid trying to almost killing everyone in the whole team, he stumbled towards you who got left out most of the time, even your teammate's wouldn't want to work with you, especially with fixing the generators, and also never gives you a bloxy cola to outrun him.

Well... he accidentally does the walkspeed override so he can kill you instantly, but you dodged right away and he slammed himself right on the wall.

You were scared to even talk with him, even though he's just a small child who doesn't want any harm at you. He slowly approach you and asked why you weren't with the others.

"oh, sorry for that! I'm just wandering why aren't you with the others to play? Are you sad because they don't wanna play with you?"

you just stood there. And then you replied back to him.

"They don't really give me any attention towards me..."

He thought about an idea to try and help you, and he did. So he gave you one of his sword.

"Take revenge, you can join me play tag, I'll spare you this time."

Oh...

You grabbed his sword on his hand and and took your hand to go and swing at them to attack

Well your teammates... weren't happy when they looked at you trying to kill one of them.

He helped you through the whole run so... you just killed all of them.

A revenge. Yeah.

John Doe... Well it's not really special until he decided to do corrupt energy to trap everyone is seperate ways.

Uh..

He's... almost about to attack you by the way and you kinda just there at the corner terrified.

I know he doesn't have any remose on trying to kill a lot of the survivors and he just felt really bad when you're panicking so much because he trapped you in basically

Since he has the corruption on his own body, he couldn't get near you or you'll get hurt by it.

Well... Not so lucky enough that the whole part of your body gets even more corrupted and took control over you.

There's nothing you could do right...?

Thinking about it though... He thought about why you were just not helping the others. Well you, being helpless. You really couldn't do anything.

"It's okay. We'll teach them how it feels like to feel betrayed after leaving you like this. MAKE THEM PAY!!!"

Same thing. I'm not going to finish how you two killed all of the survivors.

Well king of hatred himself. He knows what betrayal means to him. And he will seek revenge to the one who caused him like this.

He saw you first and purposely attack you until almost getting very low on health.

Well, did he witness someone shooting and stunning him? Nope. They ignored him. And when he did analyze you, it made him felt... remose? guilty? But he was supposed to be filled with hatred, not sympathy.

Well, you took it up the notch and just tell him to kill you.

the truth is, he doesn't want you to die. Thinking about you being his allies to join him to take over and kill everyone, it would be perfect for him.

And so, he tries to say something.

"I don't think they really understand how much they made you to suffer like this. My apologies for hurting you. But I should handle it myself. I'm not going to kill you anyway. I know how it feels to be that way."

Oh yea i can't do chance in this one cuz the images i have are full.

[e-vay]

Heyo! Do you have any tips for making comics? :)

I've been meaning to get back into the swing of it, but concentrating on such a commitment that takes so much time is tough sometimes haha.

How do you make it work? Are there things you avoid/make easier for yourself just to make the process more fun and do-able?

First of all, I’m very happy for you! I think it’s very exciting whenever we return to a craft we were once passionate about. I wish you the best of luck!

This is a big question and I don’t think there’s really one simple answer since all artists are different and have their own strengths and weaknesses.

One of the biggest issues I face is that I have a million ideas but I simply don’t have the time to do them all. I want to share all these ideas but if I gave each and every idea the same amount of attention and detail, I’d hardly get anything done. So here are some things I've learned through my own comic-making experience, but keep in mind it may not be what you're looking for. Also remember this is NOT career advice. I make comics for fun, not for a living. If you’re looking for professional advice I would suggest looking elsewhere 👍

1 - A comic doesn't have to be fully rendered to be entertaining. Although I love to draw and line and color my work, it’s not always necessary. If I feel a punchline is strong enough to stand on its own, I’ll just make it into a doodle comic. In fact, I’ve found that some of my doodle comics perform better than the fully rendered ones! The doodle comics are still very fun for me to draw and they also serve as gestural drawing practice, so in the end it doesn’t feel like I'm making a sacrifice. I'm still getting my ideas out there and I'm still drawing, I'm just prioritizing what gets more attention so I can better manage my time.

2 - Not every panel needs an illustrated background. You definitely need to show backgrounds for establishing shots and when characters are interacting with the scene. But sometimes the focus needs to be entirely on the character and/or what they’re saying. You can choose to have a solid color background and maybe add a few textures to keep it visually interesting. You're still putting in the effort to make your art pop, but you aren’t losing a ton of time by drawing dozens of backgrounds. Color is also a good way to convey mood. I do that a lot in my comics, like this bit from “My Gal”:

^ I was trying to show a progression in excitement here, so having the colors change from cool to warm does a better job portraying that than if I just had a standard, scenic forest background for all the panels.

3 - Use resources: That's what they're there for! Because I make all these comics by myself, I have had to find resources to help me get through some of the steps faster so I can focus more on the story writing and the artwork. For example, to help me save time on lettering, I use the Onomatopedia font and the Manero Panels, SFX and Bubbles brush set for Procreate. I’m still selecting the sound effects and choosing the appropriate bubbles and tails to suit the mood and scale of the text, but this has saved me a ton of time because I’m not drawing each individual element by hand over and over again. Personally, I purchased these resources but I'm sure there are plenty of free tools out there that you can use.

As far as making it more fun... Honestly, I just love comics as an art form so much that learning about all the 'rules' and techniques and 'SOP's behind comics makes it more fun for me to make them. I recommend checking out tutorials and tips (even if you think you already know it all) and you might be surprised at how much it might ignite more of your comic-making passion. For example, I've spent hours on Blambot's "How-To" page and on ComicDevices.com just to try and soak up as much as I can. They're full of fascinating reads that make me want to try out different things!

I hope this helps! Good luck with your comics!

[panelshowsource]

i have a lot of episode requests i'm working on so i'll make another post with those shortly!

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this is such a fun question — i wish i had an answer! most of my "conspiracy theories" have more to do with certain comedians being misunderstood (in both good and bad ways), as people tend to want to like who they like and hate who they hate out of selfishness that is somewhat at odds with reality. at times. like, for example, not a lot of people want to talk about how many comedians actually didn't like sean lock at all in the early 00s because of how cutthroat and competitive he was on panel shows (mock the week flashbacks, anyone?); we don't enjoy thinking about that because, as fans, we all like sean and think he was a hilarious, honest, decent person. i could talk more about this but tbh defending someone i think people misunderstand or tearing down someone people love is kinda...not the kind of discourse i'm trying to do on this website 😅 anyways, that's where most of my theories lie (that and dating theories? maybe?), but that's not enough to call them conspiracy theories ig? this isn't a conspiracy theory, right? because i so passionately believe everything i said there hahahaha

do you have any you'd share? 👀🌀

i think argumental is probably the most underrated to me, because as much as...no one...talks about shows like duck quacks don't echo and rhod gilbert's growing pains, they've had enough high-profile or just popular-within-britcom guests that people have checked them out even for just one specific episode. but i feel like no one has watched argumental!!!!!!! which, i get it, it's a lot of straight white guys standing around doing fake mainsplaining lol (please remember that before, like, 5 years ago, that's about all panel shows were) but i think the premise of impromptu debate is really funny, some of the formats really bamboozle the debaters which leads to funny banter and improv, and it was so fun to see sean lock in menace mode as host 😋

i can't say it's the best ever made or anything — because, like series like there's something about movies (jennifer saunders i love you!!!!), rob beckett's smart tv, etc it's just two opposite panels answering kinda boring questions — but if you love david tennant and i know you do because everyone rightly does then you should try comedy world cup! he's such a wonderful host and there are a lot of panel show faves as guests

and on the topic of meh-to-decent formats with A+ hosts and big name panels, have you ever tried was it something i said or insert name here? they each have their moments for sure, i think a lot of people wanted to see wisis come back (maybe we're all just obsessed with david 🤷‍♀️)

you MUST listen to the unbelievable truth if you haven't, it's such a stellar radio show

another required panel experience is the recent series guy mont spelling bee and i'm holding a gun to your head when i say this watch it and watch it right now

as many of you know i'm not a fan of a league of their own but the road trip series are def some of the better episodes so if you like the panelists you can check that out for sure

does that help a little? tbh most of what i WANT to recommend isn't panel shows but scripted series or tangential reality shows (like travel man), but you asked about panel shows specifically so i stuck with them!

i haven't, and i surprise myself because lil savage was so iconic and i am sure i scrolled past her era a bunch of times back in the day. i'd give it a try if an episode had the right amalgamation of guests, so i'll check it out!!

omg there are so many moments from so many series — and i added quite a few to these random panel shows moments posts i did last year so i'll try not to repeat myself — but let me rack my brain real quick...

as i always say THIS is my favourite wilty clip ever and i stand by that

david the tortoise

yoshi the actual tortoise

"if this turns out to be a lie you are a shamless little light entertainer"

tell 'em david!! cuz she really does have horrible views lol

the elephant :/

for the last six months i've been secretly liasing with david's wife behind his bak

obviously the horse story

omg and the THERE'S NOOOOOO UNIVERSITY story

and on the topic of classics this was always my bob mortimer fave maybe because of the genuine awe of the panel in the end lol

and on the topic of genuine awe definitely this one

this miles jupp car crash

bermuda

i love rhod's potato tattoo and it's so funny that denise is like 'why have you got that??' so sincerely she was so astounded lmaooo

i was genuinely invited to harry and megan's wedding today but i said no because i had to come here and do this

i once shared a tent in kent with susie dent

another recent fave is this adorable one<3

oh man anon there are soooo many more maybe i can work on a masterpost of both funny moments funny whole lies/truths, or a youtube video or something (i said i'd get back into making videos). did i mention even one of your faves?? hehehe

omg anon you must watch this if you haven't the ben whishaw obsession is NOT a drill

he also talks about it in his book!

god he's so relatable

OMG I DID the nostalgia...

the way they didn't want to just talk about popworld but they didn't go one whole minute without saying popworld hahahaha they're soooooo cute

richard the popworld horse mentioned!!!!!!!

miquita being a whole child when she got cast for popworld, like it's so wild to think about

"has it been clear from what we've discussed that i'm a reclusive genius and master of cinema?" + "we pretended to be pretentious directors in berets...and i have become that guy now"

i know they were 98% kidding but the 2% of them that would go through with the popworld baby?? CAN YOU IMAGINE

you can't be surprised that a guy who wears false teeth in the name of absurd comedy for a living enjoyed a film about a man who wears false teeth in the name of absurd comedy!

a friend of mine gifted me a while of nordvpn, so that's what i've been using lately, but it depends what you need a vpn for. for example, if you're torrenting and need to seed content (for ratios or whatever), you'll need something with port forwarding like airvpn. if you're just trying to find something to switch between countries' netflixes or abuse streaming services, surfshark is very popular but i'd say expressvpn comes more highly recommended. once you pick the vpn you'd like to use, it's easy to find tutorials on youtube!

aww you're too kind 🥹🫂

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