#(do keep in mind though Songs Characters Would Listen To Are Not My Strength)

[minophus]

minophus… i need your opinion bc this has been in my mind all day and you’re the sisyphushead. would he listen to sade if he wasn’t being tormented in hell. weird ask but i’m trying to make a tierlist of music they’d listen to if they were teenage girls for an au

oooh, sade...im only familiar w one or two of her songs but i can picture him listening to smooth operator if he were in that AU of yours

[yallemagne]

So, I watched Cinderella’s Castle, and we are allowed to not like things and things are allowed to go unliked by us, and there needn’t be any morals prescribed to that.

Did I like it? Kinda. And I mourn a little that that “kinda” can’t be a “yes!” but oh well.

General things I liked?

- It’s not a Disney parody, we have too many of those, and Team Starkid already did an excellent one with Twisted (with the added strength that it was also a Wicked parody). Disney is already giving into the trend of shitting on its own sense of childlike wonderment, and I did not need another satire that mocks young girls for daring to dream. Not that I expected girl hate from Team Starkid, but listen, I’ve been having a bad year.

- We get a bit of a return to the older tale with a woman in a tree rather than a fairy godmother. It took me back to when I was in a production of Into The Woods, she was amazing. Kinda reminds me of Blind Mag.

- Some really good songs.

- Fun kitschy costumes. Glow-in-the-dark fabric and glitter is such a fun, silly way to convey starlight.

- PUPPETS!!! OHHHHH PUPPETS!!!!

- SIR HOP-A-LOT AND CRUMB

… I’ve run out of points. We’ll probably return.

I feel like there is a major tone issue with this musical. They want to be silly and serious but don’t strike a balance. The serious moments don’t have enough levity for the silly moments to feel like anything other than a loud distraction. Reflecting on it, it really felt like watching two different musicals at the same time. I know I’m gonna sound oversensitive for saying this, but I found it impossible to get hyped for the Stepmother and Stepsisters’ “We’re Hot Now” song when seconds earlier, I had just witnessed the brutal killings of two girls I was duped into caring deeply for.

They massacred yet another Lucy. And I’m gonna have to erase her from my mind so I don’t start punching walls. Why do they always kill girls named Lucy? WHY DO I KEEP FALLING FOR GIRLS NAMED LUCY?

I just felt numb, which isn’t a good way to feel for a villain song. Am I supposed to be cycling through stages of grief as these three women I don’t like sing about having sex with men? Or was I supposed to have laughed at the abrupt and callous nature of those two girls’ deaths and danced along to the song? Similar feelings towards their other song. I wanted it to end as soon as it began.

Am I supposed to care about any of the people in this horrible kingdom? Ella does for some reason. You could compare this to Twisted. Unfairly. In Twisted, the people of the kingdom were also horrible to the main character, but it’s comedic because Jafar turning out to be a thoughtful and caring person is a subversion of expectations. He’s a politician after all. “Fuck you Jafar” had the same energy as the “Thanks Obama” meme. It takes on a more sinister tone when it’s a town of white people telling the only black woman that she stinks real bad and throwing her into a river, where she meets the only other black character, who is a sex pest. I’m not saying I would have wanted them played by white people, I’m just saying “oof”.

Stop comparing it to Twisted... I’m gonna keep comparing it to Twisted. We don’t want to see Jafar succeed in Twisted because we just care that much about the kingdom he lives in. No, it’s because he cares. Jafar wants to do right by people no matter what. Why the fuck does Ella care for the wellbeing of the kingdom other than the fact that she’s the main character? She wants revenge on her stepfamily… but she’ll only pursue that revenge by becoming a benevolent ruler of the kingdom? Pah. Couldn’t be me.

Once more! Tone! When I saw the stepsisters interacting with the bawdy prince, I really vibed with that. If at least one of them could have had a silly happy ending with him, that’d be cool. They just get slaughtered, though. And I kinda feel like they were products of their upbringing? Was I supposed to be rooting against their happiness simply because they are a different species while being mean? Like why do the trolls get killed as retribution but not the menfolk who did Ella wrong? Go all the way, queen. Oh well.

I REALLY LIKED SIR HOP-A-LOT FROM HIS FIRST APPEARANCE HE WAS MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER AND THEN HE COMES BACK??? AND HE’S HOT??? HELL YEAH. I need him to be romanceable. This musical needed to be 70% him and Crumb and it was not. When Ella dismissed them at the ball, I was so upset. At least we had a good dance song as recompense.

I was told that the Prince was horrible— honestly, he was fun. Again, he met those troll girls and I was unironically rooting for them to get their freak on with each other. Let them be sex fiends together. They could have had a side plot where the girls are liberated from their mother. But oh well. I guess I wasn’t supposed to like them enough to be disappointed that they died?

I’m not saying the worth of a character is cancelled out by their death, but when characters die and I’m given no space to feel their deaths, it feels like I’m being told “haha you shouldn’t have cared about Ella’s friends! This is a silly show! Of course they get killed off for irony!” and “haha you shouldn’t have cared about the stepsisters! This is a serious show! Of course they get killed off for justice!” back to back in the same show.

Also whoops I ended up being very rude about my best friend’s favourite character because I thought Tadius was obvious love interest bait. His and Ella’s antagonistic banter like halfway through the show (which comes out of NOWHERE) reeked to me of shitty rom com tropes. Just a girl that’s never been treated well being berated by unremarkable guy who tells her that the guy she’s after won’t treat her well, so she should settle for him instead… that kinda stuff. But apparently they weren’t setting Ella up to get with the fourth guy who’s ever given her the time of day (yeah I’m counting Sir Hop-A-Lot and Crumb). I was reading too far into it, and their interactions weren’t meant to be tinged with cynical flirtation… or maybe they were, and that’s just a romantic plot line that never gets resolved, and no one gets to be happy.

Overall fun time. This was soothing to write.

EDIT: OH OH OH HUUUUUGE MISSED OPPORTUNITY. In like the original original Cinderella story, her wishes were granted by the bones of a magical dead cow. Instead of offering a stillborn to the Goddess, Ella’s mom totally should have been caught sacrificing a cow as a cute homage. Anyways.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Mufasa: The Lion King (2024)

I'd go so far as to say I hate the 2019 remake of The Lion King. It does nothing better than the original despite its longer running time, the new songs are instantly forgettable, the covers of the original songs leave no impression and the visuals are dull. I did not look forward to Mufasa, which makes my rating significant. This is an improvement over its predecessor in every way.

Sometime after the events of The Lion King, Rafiki (voiced by John Kani) finds Simba and Nala’s daughter, Kiara (voiced by Blue Ivy Carter), frightened by a thunderstorm. To comfort her, Rafiki tells Kiara the story of her grandfather, Mufasa (voiced by Aaron Pierre). How he was adopted by lioness Eshe (voiced by Thandiwe Newton) and became a brother to Taka (voiced by Kelvin Harrison Jr.), how the brothers were driven from their home by Kiros (voiced by Mads Mikkelsen) & his pride of vicious white lions and how he eventually made his home in the Pride Lands.

I understand this is a big-budget, “your artistic choices on this project are limited, sir” kind of film, so I’m glad to see that Barry Jenkins listened to, and addressed, the criticisms directed toward the first movie. A small but noticeable change is in the character designs. The lions still look like real-life lions but somehow, they’re made much more expressive than in 2019. From their faces alone, you can see and feel when characters are happy, sad, distressed, etc. It's no longer nostalgia getting you invested in these characters’ stories. Tied to this choice are the character designs. You’ll have no difficulty differentiating one lion from another even though none of them look overly stylized. A final strength is the story itself because it’s original (aside from choosing to name Simba and Nala’s daughter Kiara, I didn’t notice any cues taken from previously released storylines).

Prequels do not have to constantly pander to fans if their stories and characters are interesting enough, which is why it's disappointing to see Mufasa follow the same route as Solo: A Star Wars Story. We're told the origin of EVERYTHING. How did Mufasa meet Sarabi? How did he meet Zazu? What about Rafiki? How did the wise mandrill get his stick? Why is Scar called Scar? Some of those questions you don’t mind getting answered but others could have been left to the imagination - Mufasa clocks in at 118 minutes. As clumsy as some of those revelations may be, however, nothing makes you groan as much as Timon (Billy Eichner) and Pumba (Seth Rogen). Every time they appear on-screen to interrupt Rafiki with questions about some aspect of the story, a comment about this character, or a joke, you'll think “These characters are annoying” and “I wish they would go away so we could get back to Mufasa’s story”. They suck.

I’ve got mixed feelings about the screenplay by Jeff Nathanson. When it’s bad, it’s exactly what I expected it to be but when it’s not telling us the origin of every character and detail or cutting away from the main plot, it manages to keep you guessing – even though you already “know” how everything will end. Mads Mikkelsen’s Kiros won't join the ranks of the great Disney villains but the actor effortlessly brings menace to the role. I went in unenthusiastic but Mufasa drew me into its drama. Despite the film’s title, the big question everyone is asking going in is “How did Scar get his name and why does he hate his brother?” That aspect of the story is the one audiences will call the most satisfying.

In terms of music, there are no bad songs in Mufasa but you won’t find any of them memorable either. It’s probably because your internal library is already full with other tunes from classical Disney films. Probably. Ultimately, I have more positive feelings towards Mufasa: The Lion King than I don't, but the picture's shortcomings are significant and as a prequel to an unnecessary remake, this is not one I foresee people going back to over and over. It's way better than you expected, however, and that makes Mufasa: The Lion King worth seeing - the one time. (Theatrical version on the big screen, December 28, 2024)

[aimbutmiss]

Saw this post of yours: https://www.tumblr.com/aimbutmiss/740229617026220032/maybe-this-is-just-me-projecting-on-buggy-because

and I have to say I love it sm?? yk what it makes me think of? The song I can’t help but wonder from epic the musical, where Telemachus and Odysseus (a father/son duo who haven’t seen each other in TWENTY years) finally meet again. And it’s like, giving Buggy and the ghost of Roger or smth.

https://youtu.be/gUAQvlCFm-g?si=4UJpB9jABhOMLMAI

First of all, thank you so much!! I'm glad you enjoyed it 😁 and oh boy this one's got a kick... You shouldn't have brought up greek mythology AND buggy like I won't shut up ever after this.

I actually cried listening to the song while thinking about Buggy and Roger. It just fits too well. I want to point out a few lyrics that I thought fit like a glove:

"for twenty years, I never could outgrow you" I think its safe to say that Roger's death in Loguetown affected Buggy on a fundamental level. No one could handle watching their father's neck get sliced live. Something like that could never not change you. From the 20+ years that have passed since then, at least part of Buggy is still that 16 year old standing in that crowd, crying. He never fully outgrew Loguetown, and for the record I don't think Shanks did either (I couldn't not bring him up I'm sorry) The main difference is that they experienced very different Loguetowns... Buggy still had hope that Roger would somehow dodge death like he always had, because unlike Shanks he didn't understand why Roger would willingly go to his own death. However, as the one who left, Buggy suffered a lot less after their fight. That's not to say it wasn't hard to leave, or he wasn't sad about it (he cried a lot as he ran away from Shanks) But Shanks suffered a different way, from the whiplash he had from seeing Roger die AND losing his best friend on top of each other. He only expected one of those, and we know which one that was.

"i can't help but wonder (...) if I have your strength in me." Buggy has always been a character with deep self esteem issues. A part of that certainly comes from having Roger's legacy behind him. Roger was strong and smart beyond words, and Buggy definitely felt insufficient, like he couldn't reach that ideal. That's why there's a deep rooted jealousy in him towards Shanks, because he sees so much of Roger in him. This also mirrors Odysseus and Telemachus perfectly, because the son never reached his father's level of intelligence and strength by the end of the Odyssey. However, it is implied that he is on his way there, getting better and better as the story progressed. We see this with Buggy too, with his amazing talent of failing upwards. (I have to say, I don't think all of it can be accidental. Buggy is actually quite clever in his own way) Roger's soul must be watching with pride, but not surprise. I have no doubt in my mind that Roger truly believed Buggy would make it big one day. The kind of trust only a parent could have in their children.

"used to say I'd capture wind and sky for you" Not much to say here but Roger would definitely say something like this. There's not a single thing that man wouldn't have done for his boys. I'm so normal about them haha 😅 ...Also more on the Roger and Odysseus parallels, there's just something so beautiful about a man who chooses his family over and over again, no matter how many good options keep presenting themselves. Like, nothing in the world could get in the way of him and his child no matter what. The similarity just hurts. And even though Roger couldn't live to do that for Ace, at least he experienced fatherhood with Shanks and Buggy.

[hughiecampbelle]

hello!! saw ships were open for the boys so i wanted to ask :)) atm ok with any character but the deep, homelander, and stormfront

i'm a bi & ace jewish brazilian girl, currently in college majoring in theatre & minoring in translation (i want to be a musical theatre actress and/or translator and/or writer). fluent in portuguese & english, currently learning french, and i have a life objective to become a polyglot (4+ languages!!). in love with theatre, literary analysis, linguistics, music, writing, and art in general — will absolutely ramble about anything i am interested in, and also might have strong opinions on stuff that maybe i didn't need to have a strong opinion on 💀 i can get a bit combative about that at times... i definitely take as my biggest skill, besides singing and acting which are quite literally my intended job, eloquence and just my way with words (toxic trait is believing i'd talk my way out of a murder fr fr). friends that know me more recently would even say i'm an extrovert because of that, but honestly i am a pile of nerves of an introvert with social anxiety that simply loves yapping and putting on a show. most notable quirk/habit might be how precise i always am with finding the right words because i simply cannot leave an opening for misinterpretation (and that's on anxiety and a suspicion of undiagnosed adhd oops); that might lead me to be a bit picky (for the lack of a better word), specific, and/or literal with the words other people use as well. also very proud of my music taste — from alt rock to 20s-40s music, i have so many vibes and i'm a bit of a playlist freak. also would 100% show brazilian music to whoever i'm paired with 💥🇧🇷

hope that's enough, thanks in advance <3

Hi my love! I ship you with: Kimiko!!! She loves how opinionated you are. It doesn't really matter what you're talking about, or if you feel like you should really have an opinion on the topic at all, she adores listening to the way your mind works. She finds your voice incredibly soothing whether you're talking or singing. She especially loves listening to you talk in all the languages you know, though she's got a soft spot for your Portuguese. She could listen to you go on and on and she does. She tries to teach herself a little at a time as a means of surprising you, writing down phrases she's learned, looking at you with this embarrassed grin on her face. You love her strength. Aside from her Supe abilities, Kimiko is one of the strongest people you know and you remind her of that every chance you get. She's been through a lot and came out kinder, sweeter, . It's impossible to think anyone would want to hurt her the way she's been hurt. She plays it off like it's nothing, but you know better than that. Your relationship is natural. Because of how particular you are with your words, Kimiko knows exactly what you want and how you feel about her. It isn't complicated like other relationships. There are no second guesses or doubts. When you need to talk, to work through something, that's exactly what you do. You and Kimiko become inseparable. Everyone knows you're a thing before you even tell them. The signs are obvious. They had a bet going for how long you'd try to keep it a secret. M.M. won. It's just easy being with her. It's simple. There is no drama aside from what you do for work and you know, no matter what, you'll get through it together. Your first date is kinda a non-date at first, but quickly turns into a date. You were listening to music at your desk when Kimiko comes in, asking what you were listening to. Because of how proud of your music taste you are, you're more than happy to share! Sometimes you'll switch off and she'll show you a song or two she recently found. Most of it comes from the rest of The Boys and their taste in music, they're a major influence for her. You two spend hours together, listening and talking and getting to know one another better. It's never an official date, though you both come to an understanding that's when you caught feelings for one another. Relationship Headcanon: You love learning Kimikos sign language. You pick up on it faster than anyone has before and you're almost fluent. Sometimes you mix up signs and that makes her smile, but for the most part you're a natural. She never doubted your abilities when it comes to languages. You love having your very own language together. It brings you closer of course, but it's also another way to show your love.

I really hope you like it!!! Xoxoxo💜💜💜

Wanna request a ship?

[pikazardtnt]

So I know that everyone uses "The Summoning" by Sleep Token in their Astarion thirst traps on Tiktok but hear me out. I just started my evil dark urge playthrough and I listened to it while doing some stuff and it is such a Minthara coded song especially the chorus/bit that I see all over Tiktok. Let's do some analysis! Keep in mind I JUST got past the grove and couldn't contain my thoughts. "Oh, and my love Did I mistake you for a sign from God?"

She thinks your character is with the absolute. And that the Absolute has great love for you given your strength. "Or are you really here to cut me off? Or maybe just to turn me on"

This line just reminds me of the night you have together in celebration of your bloodbath (why was the scene so in depth though? Like its the longest scene I have seen. Not that I'm complaining). "'Cause these days I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man Or maybe make a good girl bad"

She literally wants to take you home when this is all done "I would have you by my side" it also makes me think of the "I can make them worse" trope. And I love that. And I think it might be mutual (if you play like I do). Minthara feeding into the dark urge's worst well, urges, the dark urge indulging in the massacre by their beloved's side. Dragging her down to their level in spite of her fear. Though they will be restrained for her, and her alone. She's powerful. They are powerful. They will be powerful together and revel in what said power can do for them. (keep in mind this is just my hypothesis/interpretation from early on)

[truedairship]

For the weird asks ❤️

1, 19, 26, 31, 33

Thank you hun❤️

1. who is/are your comfort character(s)?

Helen. Nikola. Bring me the angst of immortality! Helen with young Henry and Ashley as well. Angst and found family is my to go to.

Vala is my baby! Not me projecting so much onto her a few years ago, no not at all😅 But Sanctuary has completely takes over my mind since I first watched it so. Plus the majority of the Vala-centric stories revolve around her relationship with Daniel and, well, I’m not a fan.

19. imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

Definitely! I’ll have to buy some nail polish first though, so tell me which colour you want😆

26. a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

I think the list of what I haven’t replayed is shorter lol. This cinema is open 24/7.

But there is a kinbaku Teslen one that has been bugging me for a while. Mainly because a plot hole caused by Nikola’s vampire strength has left me with two completely different approaches to the whole thing. And I don’t know which one to choose heh.

31. what type of music keeps you grounded?

Depends on the mood really. If I want to shut my brain off I usually choose songs with lyrics that helps counter whatever thoughts I try to avoid. If I want to focus on work or actually let my mind wander for a while I listen to instrumental, because if there’s lyrics that’s all I’ll focus on.

33. the last adventure you’ve been on?

To get to the forest we have to ride by some houses and one of them has a trampoline in the garden. It was windy the other day so a beachball on it rolled around and someone decided that the most logical course of action was to do a one-eighty and land in the ditch on the other side… The human did not appreciate getting smacked in the face by branches.

It’s been a while since I’ve been on a real adventure. My studies keep me rather occupied. Me and a friend had a road trip in terrible weather a few weeks ago if that counts. I helped her pick up a couch she had bought, and due to our packed schedule we ended up doing it late at night.

[fluffyseal322]

my thoughts on "All about lily chou-chou"

I first listened to lily chouchou when trishie sent this to me and ever since i have been in love with some of her songs and other artists like hers. One significant artist I like is Ichiko Aoba. I envision some of my favorite music to portray something Kahono would sing in Black Clover. I fell in love with that character the first moment I saw her.

I discovered that lily chou-chou wasn't just music but she had a movie built around her music and it gave very significant meaning to the soul. The movie talks about the ether a lot in which I did not understand at all in the beginning. I watched the movie for the first time and I did not at all understand a lot of it and I was extremely lost but I was extremely drawn into it. I wanted to immensely understand it. Currently i've been really invested in understanding something beyond the human vessel and discover the depths of the immeasurable soul. It's all so confusing and so much of these experiences I can't put into words... So I am learning to expand my vocab knowledge and hopefully I will find it easier to explain something that requires deeper meaning, hence the drive to learn weighty words.

Watching all about lily chou chou is good for me because I am also interested in learning Japanese so this will be a movie I'd like to watch over and over again until I am able to understand japanese and feel I would come back to this movie in the future and hopefully understand it in a different culture maybe? Anyways, the reason why I like it so much is because even though theres very dark scenes it somehow found beauty in the darkness. I love entertainment like that. It just feels so realistic and romanticizing how life really is. It helps me relate because I deem the world to be highly difficult yet so beautiful and its like, you get what you deserve. How difficult life seems is eventually what life will reward you for with patience. I am proud of every human on earth for being alive today and as much as it's said, I've never really felt it's true meaning until writing about it in this very moment. The movie shows portrays it's energies and mood very well with the colors, the way the camera moves, music tells you a lot and in this movie, instead of it just being some background noise, it uses music as an expression just as realistically humans do. You can tell a lot from a person just by observing what music they've been playing lately. I'd very much recommend this movie and if I were to briefly explain it to another being i'd say:

" the movie will teach you something very important beyond just the human mind and heart. The heart and the brain is already very hard to understand and can be explained by just using todays technology and science... but not the soul. The vagueness of the soul is far more complex than the mind, body, and heart. It realistically portrays a human's personal ether and how it has come to build. I've only watched this once but I'm sure there's way more things I've missed so this is a movie you'd have to watch a couple times to see the bigger meaning. "

Thats it for now... until then "All about lily chou chou", I hope this movie will help me get a better understanding of the book I am currently reading about the soul. ("Soulmates: Honoring the mysteries of love and relationship" by author Thomas Moore) And it is quite the confusing book that I do not want to give up on. Lord please feed me the knowledge to understand the book better and the strength to keep reading it.

૮ ฅ• ﻌ -ฅ ა Signing off on my laptop... see you later Fuwa :3

[chorusfm]

The Decemberists – As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again

The ninth studio album from The Decemberists, titled As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again, is a thrilling walk through the woods of indie-folk lore that firmly highlights the strengths of the band. The Decemberists recently wrapped a tour that acted as a teaser to the songs that would be on this LP, and the music found on this record translated extremely well to the live setting. The band has never been shy of expanding upon the roots of folk music by adding in rich context to their songs, creating unique characters, and telling vivid stories through their music. Truly the band’s first double album, this particular record puts all of their assets on full display in a marvelous accomplishment of artistic achievement, and it just may be the band’s finest, and most complete work of music to date. The record launches right into their first single released from the set, “Burial Ground,” that is a fairly straight-forward indie-folk rock song that has a memorable refrain and feels very much enriched in the legacy of The Decemberists. “Oh No!” follows the opener with a Latin-infused anthem that features some well-placed horns paired with some unique percussion to keep interest at a fever pitch for the new material. The vivid storytelling found on “The Reapers” finds lead vocalist Colin Meloy setting the scene in the first verse of, “Early in the evening, when the working is through / And the field’s all in furrows, and there ain’t much to do / Me and my lady, all a-riding did go / As we wait for the reapers to mow,” and the song unfolds with strategic precision as new elements are added into the mix at just the right moments. Another early standout, “Long White Veil,” is a catchy folk tune that would’ve fit well on any of The Decemberists’ other albums, as it feels authentic to the style that they have perfected over their career. The chorus of, “I married her, I carried her / On the very same day I buried her / In the cemetery plot by her mother / Though she never gave a thought to her mother / But she looked so pale / In that long white veil,” is well-crafted and invites the listener to sing along. The campfire, acoustic bliss of “William Fitzwilliam” features several great harmonies from Meloy and his bandmates to round out the song, while things slow-build to one of the more important tracks on the LP with “Don’t Go to the Woods.” The overall aesthetic of the album packaging is based around this mysterious landscape of the woods, and this track works extremely well in the middle of sequencing to set the right tone for the rest of the record. ”The Black Maria” works as a nice contrast to earlier song of “Long White Veil,” while the tender “All I Want Is You” is a gushing ballad of falling in love with the person you want to spend all of your days with. Late standouts like “Born to the Morning” rock like a late-Beatles catalog track, especially with its experimental sounds added in, and the bouncy “America Made Me” adds in more well-placed horns and instruments much like The Format did so brilliantly on their Dog Problems record. The bass-heavy “Tell Me What’s On Your Mind” is a jazz-infused track that continues to explore The Decemberists’ endless creativity, while “Never Satisfied” unfolds cautiously, bleeding into the 19-minute plus opus of “Joan in the Garden.” After a few minutes of quiet in the sprawling closer, The Decemberists kick into a new gear and rock out in a way that would make Pink Floyd proud. There is so much to love and enjoy on As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again, and hopefully this alludes to the idea that The Decemberists truly can take their music into the most exciting paths forward. The fans who have been with them since the beginning days, as well as many of the fans they have collected along the way, will surely be ready for the next journey. --- Please consider becoming a member so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/reviews/the-decemberists-as-it-ever-was-so-it-will-be-again/

[kenshinleinuell]

PETA IN CREATIVE WRITING

╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

◑ ━━━━━CELEBRATE LITTLE SUCCESS━━━━━ ◐

Greetings, Greetings to you all, people, classmates, friends and teachers, the one speaking on this majestic piece of bond paper is just a typically normal person, not rich, not poor, just normal and average. Oh, where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself. I am the one, yet different from the whole. I am you, but different. I am me, but I am everything and everyone. I do, I listen, and I am nothing yet everything. I am the waves, the stars, the flesh, and the blood. I am the trees, the hide, and the bone. I am a mess, but I am accomplished. I am order and chaos rolled into one. I am the word and the silent scream. I am the ego, and I am the soul.I am in pain and everything in between. I am a misplaced word and a poet. I am a song and lack of melody. I am dead and a never-ending story that goes on a another chapter of his life.I am empty yet filled to the brim. I am the rhyme that catches on. I am the forgotten tongue that never repeats. I am the tongue that everyone speaks. I am the abstract that never lets on. And finally, I am Leinuell Anthony M. Vicente, a 16 years old boy who wants to pursue his dreams and in that process, wants to gab anyone’s attention and become an image of greatness and kindness in the eyes and the hearts of people around me. I am not trying to best anybody but rather be an example to them. I live in the small barangay of Calancuasan Norte in Cuyapo, Nueva Ecija. I am proudly studying in Saint Pius X Institute with a goal in mind, not to be the best but the one who will succeed. A Grade-11 Student of Grade-111 St. Francis Humss and proudly took that strand to take HRM Culinary course in College and hope to graduate and become a Cook someday. The hobby I usually dop is to draw anime characters and sometimes other things. Another of mine is to cook and I especially like to experiment when cooking to discover new mixtures, flavors , and I like cooking fried rice because its full of flavor, texture, color and looks great when you put creativity into it. My life is going, a story that does not have an ending.

I'm ok actually, these past few months, everything has absolutely gone well. I didn't really expect to happen this much but I hope that whatever I had now ot what I will receive sooner or later, I hope it keeps going and even though sometimes I face a challenge that I thought I couldn't handle but with just a little bit of courage and self confidence, every challenge can be overcomed with ease. Though last year was the hardest for me because I couldn't handle all the trauma and pain that I received, I am very happy that I overcame these, especially the anxiety and depression that I had. And for the coming days, weeks, months, and years, I expect something that can change my life fully but still have the same heart that I always have, a kind hearted boy. Surprisingly, in all of the things that I went through, I discovered myself even more, discovering things I didn't know I was capable of. I found my own strengths and weaknesses. Besides physical strength, which I have, the strength that I am noticing that is developing is my academic capabilities and knowledge, and my mental capacity because last year, I don't have the inspiration to do more to what I can do and I asked myself, "What if I do better? What if I push myself even more?", and then I did and was surprised by the results. Just by trying, I can get a good grade and even manage to get into honors which surprised me because I didn't expect that I would enter that kind of level and I am very very happy about it and I hope next Card Day/Parents Day, I still get into honors but with higher grades. For my weakness, the only thing that I have is that I am emotionally sensitive, very full of jealousy and very gullible. Because of my strengths and weaknesses, I realized that they were formed because of the things I have faced, challenges, pain, anxiety, suffering and people, I have created my own strengths and at the same time, developed my own weaknesses that, I still encounter but because of this, I improved a lot but I can improve more, just a little more push.

A Message of Hope and Encouragement to my Future Self

You'll stand up for what is right

Hold on your dreams very tight

Your heart has the greatest price

And in the future you'll rise

[seasidepierre]

sunkissed face part 6 | charles leclerc

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

summary: Long distance relationship are not the easiest ones, but when you’re seeing Charles Leclerc, it makes things easier.

warnings: You’ll want to bitch slap Harrison.

words count: 4.7k

a/n: Can you believe I posted Sunkissed Face as a one-time fic and it ended up having six parts? Also, I didn’t even have 200 followers when I started Sunkissed and now I have 1.5k.. It’s just crazy how much you guys keep blowing my mind up with your support and kindness 🤍 Sunkissed Face is not over, I still have at least two parts in mind, but who knows when I’ll think I’ve rounded up everything I had to say about them? Maybe by next year, I’ll be done with them? As long as you’ll want them back, I’ll be happy to bring them some love. In the meantime, enjoy this one 🤍 (special thanks to my friend Bunny, who came up with some details about this and who’s the best at listening to me rant about plotlines and bitchy characters. You’re the best, thank you so much for supporting me and all my babies so much 🤍 🤍 🤍)

Of course, you knew good things had to come to an end but as you drove back from the airport, your little car felt like it was suddenly way more spacious than it had been on the drive over. Charles had been sitting on the passenger seat, his weekend bag on the backseat, and if his knees had been close to bump into the glovebox at first, he had slid the seat back and found the best way to rest his long limbs in the small interior of the car. He left you in charge of Waze and took your phone to take care of the music. The drive had been punctuated by Chris Martin’s voice, making you discover Charles’ poor singing qualities when he tried to make you laugh by belting the lyrics way too loud. However, on calmer songs, you realised that when he didn’t pay much attention to what he was doing, his humming didn’t sound half as bad as he thought it did. He sounded pretty calm and nice, actually. Another thing to add to the already long list of things that made Charles the most perfect human ever. It could have been annoying if you weren’t so infatuated with him already.

Charles had decided to fly commercial this time, because jets are nice when they’re not used all the time. Make it a recurring habit and you lose the novelty of it all. So here you had stood, in the hall of Heathrow, trying to stay hidden until he’d have to pass security and be gone to you for good. You did, however, find a compromise when both your hearts tightened at the idea of losing the warmth of the other and even Charles looked sad to be leaving. 

“Come with me in France,” He uttered against your lips, peppering kisses between his words. “It’s not too far, you won’t have to miss work if you leave on Friday evening. The flight is barely two hours long. You can leave at the end of Sunday afternoon.”

When you shook your head from left to right and ended up blubbering that even though you would love to but didn’t really have the funds for, Charles had dragged you to a commercial booth and booked your flights himself. You didn’t find the mental strength to say no to him. You knew he had spent enough money on you as it already was, but if it meant being able to see him again in barely a couple of weeks, you’d take it. To thank him for it, you had kissed his brains out when the moment came to say goodbye, which he’d been pretty happy about. Charles was easy to please. To hold his hand and to kiss his lips was enough to fill his heart with happiness. It was refreshing to be plenty enough for someone you were dating. It hadn’t been the case for your last relationships, finding yourself having to go to great lengths to make sure the relationship would last. It had always been in vain, now that you thought about it, confirming to you that changing your whole instinct and being wasn’t worth it in the slightest. Charles felt like he took you for what you were and appreciated what you had to offer. You liked him for what he gave you and he was plenty sufficient. 

You were just happy you could meet him halfway and he didn’t think about the relationship as some kind of equilibrium that needed a complete and perfect balance. Some days he was the one putting a bit more work in it. Some days it was you. The last handful of days have shown exactly that, as you spent your entire Sunday in pyjamas, his hands barely ever leaving your body, his lips tracing words on your skin while you two channel-surfed on the TV trying to find something interesting to watch. You ended up watching a Marvel movie, which made him laugh and send a DM to Tom with a picture of the TV, stating a blatant “I can’t escape you, apparently” which made Tom giggle on his side. The movie ended up in the background when you turned back to him, dragged him down to lie on the couch and launched the two of you in the longest makeout session you’ve ever experienced. 

You cooked lunch.

He ordered dinner. 

You took turns in the shower and went to bed way too early for two young people in love, but you got to lay between his thighs and read your book while he used your shoulder as a chin rest to scroll on his phone. There wasn’t anything exciting or thrilling happening, still it had been a really good day, spent in each other’s delicious embrace, kissing until your lips felt sore and learning how each other’s body reacted to the touch. 

There wasn’t much else you would have rather done.

And you were going to do it all again in just a couple of weeks. 

But in the meantime, you had to go back to your tiny flat, which was about to feel very empty now that the sound of his breathing wasn’t going to echo between your bedroom’s walls.

☀️

It didn’t take long for you to find something to do. The first couple of days had been pretty lonely, but you found yourself hung up on your phone’s notifications, waiting for a text that would put a smile on your face. Lucky for you, Charles seeked contact just as much as you did and you realised that he was just as chatty through writing than through vocal communications. He sent you pictures of what he was doing, views of his hotel room in Baku, pictures of himself in his bright red car and mirror selfies with his racing suit hanging low on his hips, which definitely didn’t help with the loneliness you were feeling. 

You wished he was here. You wished he was next to you. You wish you didn’t have to get your fix by diving nose first into the pillow he had used in your bed. You wish you didn’t have to cling to the sweatshirt he had “forgot” on your couch. But you didn’t want to have him any other way, so any second he was willing and able to give you felt like a gift.

Still didn’t mean that you weren’t feeling lonely, nor that you weren’t dealing with a major case of FOMO. Charles had just raced in Baku, having missed out on a podium by just a bit to his good friend Pierre. He had told you he was disappointed but it was largely balanced by his happiness for his best friend and you found it extremely adorable. The two of them had celebrated in a club that same night and you had had the pleasure of texting with Pierre through Charles’ phone because he was too drunk and you were getting worried as he didn’t answer his phone. Pierre had explained that he usually was taking care of Charles’ phone when they were out drinking because he had a tendency of leaving it on the tables or couches and losing it in the end. 

Now, Charles was on a flight to Italy, to work at Maranello again, and you hadn’t seen his face, other than on Instagram or on TV, since he left Heathrow about three weeks ago. You had holed up in your flat since you came back from the airport and had barely received visits, apart from the exception of an odd visit from Tom that ended up with him having to rush out because one of the twins was locked outside of their place. You had seen him for barely an hour, which had been a nice breath of fresh air, but it really didn’t feel like enough. In a way, it was your fault too, you passed on Pub Quizz Saturday that past weekend, because your work had caught up with you and you had been swamped under files or other festivities like that. 

So when Harry sent a text inviting you to a movie night, you took the bait so quickly it should have been a joke, but you couldn’t wait to get surrounded by friends and you knew they wouldn’t mind seeing you arriving in comfy clothes and with a bare face. Your makeup had run during your day at the office and you couldn’t wait to get out of your freaking white button-down and heels. So you wrapped yourself in Charles’ too-big-for-you hoodie, took out your most comfortable pair of yoga pants and cleaned your face bare before leaving your flat with a tote bag full of fresh underwear and your travel toiletry bag. You knew you’d more than likely end up sleeping at Tom’s, sharing his king size bed like always. 

The house was a giant mess as soon as you stepped a foot inside the hallway. There were yells, noises of automatic rifle weapons and very disgusting moans of zombies meeting their gruesome end. Needless to say, you didn’t last long in the living room, seeing how the twins and Tuwaine didn’t care whether or not you were there. They had barely answered your “hello” when you have passed the door of the room, so you didn’t feel guilty leaving them there with their gore game.

You found Tom in his office, his nose deep into a script, but you knew by the frown on his lips and the little crease between his brows, that he was having a hard time with it. You sighed with relief as you closed the door, though, muffling the sounds of the rest of them all, even though you hadn’t seen Harrison yet and weren’t exactly impatient to do so.

“Hey Tom,” You whispered, trying to keep his calm atmosphere intact.

“Hey, Peanut, how are you doing?” He smiled back, pushing his script back down on the desk and you returned the smile at the nickname you’ve sported for years.

“I’m okay,” You sighed. “How about you? Having trouble with your reading?”

“It’s just a bit denser than what I’m used to. They didn’t realise I needed the more spaced one, and I’ve been going at it for hours now.”

You’d been Tom’s friend for years, now. You knew him by heart and you’ve known him back when you were at school as well, before he got some home-school in the mix. One thing you knew about Tom was his struggles with dyslexia and how it could affect him sometimes, especially when he was reading something long. Over the time, he had found some tricks to make it easier: print bigger fonts, space the lines a bit more, sometimes he would alternate highlighted lines and blank ones. But at some point, he would just grow tired and frustrated, which you reckoned might be exactly what was happening right now. 

“Give me that,” You softly said, grabbing the script and sitting down on his desk next to him. “Close your eyes, they’re tired.”

Tom groaned a little, showing his gratefulness through noises rather than words. You chuckled quietly and made sure you were ready for the next part, which involved Tom crossing his arms over your thighs and dropping his head on top of it all. 

“Settled?”

He hummed and you checked where his reading had stopped. As much as you hated it, you knew it was easier for him to dog-ear the pages he had already read, so you picked up where he had left it and started reading to him, not asking any question about the plot, the characters’ growth or the different storylines. You knew it was best to let him absorb the text first, than in a couple of hours, when he’d have digested it, maybe you’d be able to ask a few things and brainstorm it over with him.

For now, you were just his personal audiobook and that was fine by you.

You read for about an hour before Sam came bursting into the office, telling you dinner was ready. He was red in the face, the kind of red you knew to be telling of a play fight with his twin, which didn’t miss the occasion to come barrelling into the room, yelling about how he was going to shave his head in his sleep for whatever reason. You had stopped trying to understand these two a long while ago. They kept bickering and teasing each other, it was a miracle one of them didn’t end up in the hospital with a fractured bone, again.

You sat at the table and properly greeted everyone with a quick hug, even though you purposefully avoided Harrison by grabbing the plate Harry was struggling to hold, to set it on the table. 

Seeing Harrison again still stung. There was this awkwardness still lingering between you two, that you literally couldn’t shake. You were still mad at him, mad that he knew about your infatuation with him and didn’t do anything about it. You would have prefered to be friendzoned once and for all, rather than being gossiped about with his freaking girlfriend. You were so glad and relieved that she hadn’t been invited, to be honest.

“New hoodie, Peanut?” Tom inquired, pointing at your jumper.

“If so, we’re gonna have to explain sizes to you, Nuts,” Tuwaine teased.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny, dumbasses. It’s Charles’, he forgot it at home. I’m stealing it until I have to return it.”

“I still can’t believe you’re cosying it up with Charles freaking Leclerc,” Harry exclaimed. “Like. The dude is a literal God.”

“He’s not a God,” You giggled. “He’s a nice guy, who happens to be very interesting to look at.”

“Of course,” Harry rolled his eyes up. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you, Nuts, but you’re you and he’s a freaking Formula 1 driver.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, my self-esteem really thrives with you all,” You groaned, grabbing the plate of green beans from the table. “May I remind you all that we have a literal superhero sitting at this table?”

“Touché,” Harry sighed.

“How’s it going with my boy Charles?” Tuwaine smiled.

“It’s going good,” You smiled. “I’m joining him in France next week.”

Tuwaine whistled lowly, impressed.

“So you’re fully dating him, then?” Tom wondered.

“I don’t know, we haven’t really discussed it yet,” You shrugged. “We’re just happy to spend time together, to be honest.”

“And you’re the only one he spends time with?” Harrison asked, his tone somewhat annoyed with the matter.

The silence that draped the table was enough to chill you down a bit. You repressed a shiver, thankful for the oversized hoodie to actually hide it and dropped a few green beans in your plate, trying to decipher if you had to ignore him or indulge his rude question.

How dare he imply that Charles wasn’t that interested in you? How dare he imply that you were one among several others?

You trusted what you had with Charles so much that you knew it wasn’t even a possibility, but just to be reasonable, you decided you would actually ask him next time you’d see him face to face.

“Dude, that is so rude,” Sam finally commented. “Leave her alone.”

“Ahem.. So. What are we watching tonight?” Tom defused the bomb.

“Anything but a romcom. I love you, Peanut, but I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m not in the mood for a romcom,” You deadpanned. “Not anymore,” You added.

“There’s a thriller that just came out on Netflix, it looks okay-ish,” Harry suggested.

“Or we could watch another season of New Girl,” Tuwaine grinned.

Eventually, Tuwaine won, because you all loved New Girl and only watched it together. You had some serious catching up to do with Jess, Nick, Schmidt and Winston. 

You piled onto the couches about an hour later. The living room was lit by a couple of candles and the whole room looked cosy and warm. Sam had made cookies and popcorn, so it smelled sweet, which really made you happy even though Harrison’s sour mood really didn’t help. He barely spoke during dinner and didn’t make any effort to even pretend that he wasn’t pissy about something, which annoyed you to no end. You were grateful for Tom and Tuwaine who decided to sit on each side of you and decided that you wouldn’t let Harrison ruin your night even more. You got rid of the pillows behind your back and nestled against Tuwaine, letting your calves rest on Tom’s thighs which he immediately took in his hands to rub them. This was one of the things you liked the most about movie nights: the fact that you and the boys had a comfortable friendship, comfortable enough that they could touch you and you’d be cool about it.

Halfway through the third episode, the pocket in Charles’ jumper vibrated enough to make a noise. You frowned and fished your phone out of it, grinning at the notification on your phone.

 Charles Just so you know, I scored the fastest lap today.

You loved that he kept sending you texts like that, like little updates on his day to make you feel like you were there with him.

Did you drive around Fiorano, today? 

He hadn’t talked about a track test, only some sessions in the sim, last time you spoke on the phone with him. But again, it was Formula 1, they could have had a change of plan or he could have not been told. 

Charles Nope. 

What are you talking about?

Charles I was the fastest one to go from the sim to the toilets and back! They said they had never seen someone so quick, ever!

You snorted at his latest text, which brought Tuwaine’s attention to your phone screen. 

“Tell him I said hi,” He whispered.

“Get yourself your own cute guy,” You teased.

“Sorry but yours is the only cute guy I’ll ever be interested in.”

I’m proud of you, then! Congrats on this big achievement!!  Tuwaine insists that I tell you he said hi.

Charles Ah, thank you, thank you! Gotta take the win when you can Tell him I said hi, too. Tell Tom I got his DM last weekend, it was nice of him to check on me after the race. I just realised I forgot to answer him, he must think I’m a complete jerk

 You smiled at his words and presented your phone to Tom, which made him grin too. 

 No worries, he’s not mad, you must have been swamped with work, I’ve passed your message

 Charles I was super busy, indeed, but I appreciated his DM anyway

Every day, you wondered how you had lucked up so much to get a sweet guy as Charles in your life, who liked your friends and felt comfortable with them already. 

How’s the preparation for France going?

Charles It’s going okay, we’ll see how it goes on track. Can’t wait to have you back, though.  The hotel they booked for us all is super nice, you’re gonna love it! 

   Isn’t the track super close to Monaco? 

  Charles Not really, we’re like two hours and half away. It’s not really worth it to go back and forth. I could take the jet, but I’d rather not deal with the fatigue of it all.

  Got it! Then I can’t wait to have you back too

  “What did she just say?” You frowned at the screen, having caught only the end of the sentence Jess had just thrown at Nick.

“That she liked when he called her “Bitch” because it made her feel like Janice Joplin,” Harry repeated, making Harrison huff.

“Can we please listen?” He groaned.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered.

Your phone vibrated on your lap again, making you smile. 

  Charles Well good thing is, I’m super fast on the way to the toilets, already!

  You pushed your phone back to your lap, focusing on the TV again. Nick and Jess were in the middle of a grocery store of some sort and she was about to either go full Jess again or you had missed an important plot line again.

“I’m so confused, why is she freaking out over his shoes?”

“Because she’s trying to see if his feet are always facing her or if they’re facing something else,” Tom explained.

“And it’s important because?”

“Apparently if your feet always face someone, it’s because you love them.”

“Gotcha,” You nodded.

“Seriously, I can’t hear what’s going on,” Harrison groaned again.

You rolled your eyes at him, grateful that you were hidden by Tuwaine so he couldn’t see you.

At some point, your phone started to buzz continuously, which meant someone was calling you. You quickly excused yourself and told the boys to keep watching so they wouldn’t have to wait for you and you locked yourself in Tom’s office, accepting the FaceTime call.

“Hi,” You smiled at the screen.

“Hi,” Charles grinned back.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m a bit tired, not gonna lie. Racing to the toilets is exhausting,” He joked. “How about you?”

“I’m okay, don’t worry about me.”

“Texting is nice but I wanted to see your face,” Charles sheepishly told you.

“Well, now you do,” You blushed.

“Is that my hoodie?” Charles smirked.

“It might be, yep,” You blushed even deeper. “It’s super comfortable,” You explained.

“You look extra cute in it.”

It’s not like you could do anything but feel your cheeks flaming up once again, or more exactly, going a few degrees hotter.

A few seconds of silence occured in the conversation, a little breath of relief about seeing each other after a few days of work, of loneliness and fatigue. You both had worked really hard this past week and you were just relieved of having a small break in the form of the other. 

During those small seconds of silence, you detailed Charles’ face through the screen. His stubble was getting a bit crazy but you liked it either way. A set of dark rings were hanging under his eyes and your heart clenched a little, knowing he was surely exhausted but still chose to call you either way. They were paired with small lines on each corner of said eyes, a true sign that he was happy about your call. 

“Where are you?” You smiled.

“Physically or mentally?” He joked.

“Both.”

“Well, physically, I’m still in Italy. Ferrari has a couple of places where we can crash when we come to the factory, so I’m in one of those apartments. Mentally, I��m in London,” He shrugged, a small pink hue rising up his throat. 

“How’s your view?”

“From the window, it looks a bit boring,” He demonstrated, bringing you to the window that overlooked a few streets. “On my phone, though..”

“Stop,” You giggled.

“You’re gonna love the South of France, it’s super pretty. Prettier than this, at least.”

“Are we even gonna be able to sightsee? I’m coming on Friday night and leaving on Sunday evening.. I’m not sure we’ll have enough time,” You grimaced.

“Not sure, but you’ll see a bit when we’ll drive from the hotel to the track, at least. Sorry about that,” He frowned.

“I don’t care, I only care about spending time with you.”

“Well, my company is exquisite, I’ve been told,” He teased.

“That it is,” You grinned.

“And you, where are you? I don’t recognise your background.”

“I’m in Tom’s office, I was spending the evening with the guys. It’s movie night,” You shrugged.

“And you’re in here, talking to me? Jeez, I’m sorry for keeping you away from your friends!” 

“It’s okay, they’re still watching, I’ll catch up on what I missed.”

“Still, we should hang up. I’ll call you back tomorrow,” He suggested

“Can’t wait.”

“Hey.. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Charles,” You laughed. “See you tomorrow.”

  You sneaked back into the living room, ignoring the huff of annoyance from Harrison. You had no idea what was up his ass tonight but he was starting to piss you off as well. 

At some point, you leaned against Tom, Tuwaine having wrapped himself in a blanket, you knew he might groan about you keeping him too warm. Tom draped an arm around your shoulders, dropped a kiss on the top of your head and you snuggled against your best friend, happy that you could get your dose of cuddles even if Charles wasn’t here. You weren’t exactly touch-depraved, but sometimes it was nice to be hugged. 

  “What’s going on?” You whispered to Tom.

“You’d know if you weren’t texting non-stop or leaving to call,” Harrison groaned.

“Jeez, sorry Dad, didn’t know you were suddenly the one deciding on the rules of movie night,” You threw back.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you came here, if all you do is text a guy you barely know, talk about him on a loop and spend time with him instead of us.”

“Excuse me?” You choked up.

“You heard me well enough.”

  Your ears were starting to burn, which was generally not a good sign. And judging by the fact that Tom’s hands were suddenly gripping your calves instead of massaging them like they were doing before, you realised that everyone in the room was holding their breath.

What the fuck was Harrison doing?

Deep into the episode that kept playing even though nobody was paying attention to it anymore, he looked like a proper asshole who didn’t even care about the impact of his words, except for the fact that his jaw was clenching hard, a telltale of his annoyance much like your burning ears right now. 

  “You know, if you didn’t want to see me, you only had to not invite me,” You clapped back.

“I didn’t invite you. They did,” He pointed to the twins. 

“I see. Well sorry I bothered you with my mere presence.” 

“What presence? You’re barely here. If you wanted to spend time with that guy, maybe don’t do it here where you’re annoying everyone with the vibrations of your phone or taking his calls.”

“I won’t bother you much longer,” You sassed back, stood back up, making a beeline for your tote bag that you had left hanging on the back of a chair. 

“Peanut, no,” Tom tried to intervene. “Don’t go, this is silly.”

“This is not. I know when to leave when I’m no longer welcome.”

“I wanted to spend the evening with you,” Tom tried to convince you to stay. “We could go back to my office and read that script again?”

“Tom, I love you to bits, but I think I’d rather go home right now.”

  Tom sadly nodded, before the twins put the episode in pause. 

  “Don’t stop on my account. I’d hate for Harrison to lose out on the opportunity to blissfully spend the evening not in my company.”

“That’s dumb, we watch the show together or we don’t.”

“You’re together. Have fun,” You stated, leaving the living room.

“We’re not together if you’re not here,” Tuwaine yelled as you closed the front door.

  You had no idea how you managed to keep your tears away until you closed the door of your flat behind your back. Your flat was cold, dark and smelled like the leftover fish and chips you had the evening before. It was silent and lonely, which truly ended up chipping at your morale. 

It wasn’t even the fact that the situation had been ridiculous. You had fought with the boys before and you had had your fair share of words that truly went beyond what they meant. Sometimes, they were truly mean. Sometimes, the fights were extremely frustrating. It wasn’t about what had been said because rude words you could deal with. 

It was the fact that they came from Harrison, who was mad that you had finally someone treating you right in your love life. It was the fact that he could see how happy you were and still decided to fuck with it, for whatever reason. It was the fact that he willingly chased you away because he was mad. 

For the first time, you wondered how your friendship with Harrison was going to survive all of this. 

A few weeks ago, you would have thought that if it came to a choice between the boy you liked and Harrison, the answer was easy and not even worth a second of reflection.

That night, you weren’t sure Harrison was the right choice anymore. Nor if he would ever be again.

You sobbed the entire night.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Support a writer, reblog their works!

Tell me what you liked the most about this! If you want to help me support my writing, you can also buy me a ko-fi 🥺🤍

taglist: @lu-morningstar @zayniegal @baueoud @letsstarsfalling @alliss19 @sirlewismybeloved @spiidergirlsworld @mae-266 @vioaglkvs @simxican @lewispool @its-astrotea-love  @toofarintomcu @pizza-portal @carotrujillo @parkerbunny @layazul @avsensio @gothicwidowsworld @sirlewismybeloved @paprikabadger @mazzbarnes @ireallydontknowdudee @charlesleclercje @obxcalm @darkice99 @mayamess @j-briefmalfoy @superdeath  @pedrodaddypascal @allison-rosewood-maximoff @honeybadger03 @altalin @adiaz-25  @theduchessinme @idkiwantchocolatee @actual-spawn-of-satan @spideyanakin @multilovebot  @marauvdersfate @amsofftrack @dr3lover @reiding-and-writing @lovingroscoee @enjoymyloves @eternalharry @teamspideyman @iamasimpingh0e @calmleclerc @andziiiiaaa @spngi @yeolsbubbles @ophcelia @coffeehurricanes​

[leaderoffestivals]

CROSS FIRE: Strength and Strength Ch 5

Jun: Hey, Nagumo-kun.

Tetora: … … … …

Jun: … … Uh, Nagumo-kun?

Tetora: OWAA~, SAZANAMI-SENPAI?! WHAT’S WRONG?

Scenario Writer: Kino Seitarou (with Akira) Season: Summer Characters: Kiryu Kuro, Mikejima Madara, Nagumo Tetora, Sazanami Jun, Otogari Adonis  Proofed by: @ryuseipuka, Skyress

<About half an hour later… … >

Madara: Now then. Do we have any other suggestions? 

This is what we have on the list so far: First, the exhibition match, followed by the training experience, the making of the image PV (1) of [CROSS FIRE],―

―the singing of the tie-up song, and lastly, appearing as round boys during the actual show. This is all we’ve got, though…

Kuro: Are you honestly expectin’ it to get any better than this? This is plenty!

Adonis: Yes. I think so too. 

It’s difficult to say if we’ll be able to accomplish more in the time we have, from now till the actual performance. This much is indeed adequate, given our schedule.

Jun: Yep! If we push ourselves too hard and try to bite off more than we can chew, the entire project might just end up in disaster, right~? Wouldn’t it be better to focus on getting ourselves ready to perform these items first? 

Madara: Gotcha! If that’s the case, let’s meet again in three days' time to start training. Tetora-san, you don’t have any objection to this, do you~?

Tetora: Uh, yeah. This is fine. 

Madara: Great, it’s settled, then! Let’s look forward to assembling together again in three days time~!

Tetora: … … … …

(Ummm. In the end, Taisho never committed himself to actually participating in the exhibition match, huh. 

Well, there’s still a way for the plan to move forward even if they don’t battle in the arena itself...

Instead of using the exhibition match, I could get them to do it during the practice match conducted at a nearby wrestling gym, where we BUTOUKAI members will be training.

If the two of them could have a match there, the truth behind the Dragon King Competition would be revealed――)

Jun: Hey, Nagumo-kun.

Tetora: … … … …

Jun: … … Uh, Nagumo-kun?

Tetora: OWAA~, SAZANAMI-SENPAI?! WHAT’S WRONG?

Jun: Whoops, I must’ve startled you, huh? 

Sorry ‘bout that. I noticed something had been a little off about Nagumo-kun’s behaviour earlier, so I thought I’d just ask if everything was okay.

Tetora: Was something off about my behaviour? 

Oh, nothing’s the matter, really. I was just thinking really hard about something, so there isn’t any need to be concerned about me at all. 

Jun: I’m glad you’re fine. During the meeting earlier, it looked like you were stuck in the role of a silent listener after you had given your idea, which made me wonder if something had happened. 

Tetora: Ahaha! If it’s about that, please don’t worry about it~

I’ve been trying to figure out who ‘The Strongest Man in Yumenosaki’ would be, that’s all.

Jun: ?

Tetora: Oh, right. Sazanami-senpai’s from Reimei Academy so you wouldn’t have heard about it, but―

―it’s been said that the true identity of Mysterious Fighter M, the man who had challenged Taisho—our Karate Club’s strongest fighter—and the only one who managed to fight him to a draw, is Mikejima-senpai… … 

I want to get to the bottom of that, you see. I want to find out which of them deserves the title of ‘The Strongest Man in Yumenosaki Academy’!

Honestly, that’s the only thing that’s been on my mind. That’s why I blurted my own suggestion so impulsively, and also why I’ve been going along with whatever Big Sis Anzu and the other senpais have been saying.

Jun: Hmmm… … Mysterious Fighter M, huh? That’s a strange name… …

And the only two people who know the truth aren't talking about it, huh… …

Oh! Isn’t it possible that the ‘M’ could stand for Morisawa-senpai’s ‘M’?

Think about it. Masked wrestlers and sentai heroes are kinda similar, aren’t they? Since both are about fighting while keeping one’s true identity concealed, that’s an unexplored lead, too―

Tetora: Nope, impossible. There’s absolutely no way that would be the case!

Morisawa-senpai might hold the title for being ‘The Most Hot-Blooded’ in Yumenosaki Academy, but he’s far away from being considered ‘The Strongest’. 

Or I should say―judging from his build, his physique isn’t that of a martial arts fighter―

―and as for his muscles, he’s just about on par with me. If we were to fight each other, Morisawa-senpai would definitely die. 

Jun: That’s a heartless thing to say, don’t you think… …?

Well, I get the situation now. In short, Nagumo-kun wants to bring the truth of that past match to light, so as to find out who ‘Yumenosaki Academy’s Strongest Man’ is, right? 

Tetora: That’s exactly it. 

Taisho’s someone I look up to very much, so I don’t wanna believe that someone like this Mysterious Fighter M could fight him to a draw in the Dragon King Competition!

Jun: Haha~! It seems like there’s always something interesting going on at Yumenosaki.

I’ll help you out, Nagumo-kun. I wanna witness the showdown between fellow strong men too~ ♪

Tetora: EH? Do you really mean that?

Jun: Yep. It’s pretty much a given, since we’re comrades-in-training together. I’ve always been interested in competitive sports, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find the idea of ‘The Strongest Man’ romantic too. 

On the day of the practice match for the Shuffle Project, let’s do everything we can to get them to meet in the ring together ♪

Tetora: Ossu! Thank you so much, Sazanami-senpai!

WHOAAAAAA! All this talking with Senpai is filling me with an even more overwhelming desire to know who The Strongest Man is!

I-I’m gonna go to the Training Room to get a grip on these feelings right now!

Jun: Oo~h, that sounds great~

I haven’t completed my daily workout yet either, so would it be okay if I joined you? 

My entire body has gotten stiff after sitting through that long meeting, so I really wanna give these muscles of mine a good workout too ♪

Tetora: Fufu, good friends and good company are great blessings to have after all!

Let's go, Sazanami-senpai! We’re gonna be performing in a PV, so let’s train as hard as we can to get ready for the actual show… …! ☆

—————-To be continued——————-

Chapter 4  /  Chapter 6

Translator’s Notes: 1) PV refers to promotional video, music video.

[calumxkisses]

Dancing In The Sky | a.i.

pairing: ashton irwin x reader

genre: fluff to angst

warnings: death (not main characters)

summary: request - Hi!!! It’s very morbid but, I really want one with ash or cal, where they’re in one of the boys house just the boys and their girls, and then the reader receive a call in the middle of the conversation telling someone in her family is dead and she just in shock and she tells them, and the he hugs her and she breaks!!! Thanks

a/n: recently my granny had to be rushed to the hospital and i thought i was going to lose her - luckly it didn't happen. i felt this request particularly close. i always say 'i love you' to my grandma before hunging up on the phone (we live pretty far away from each other) and i thought about what would happen if i forgot to say it, not knowing it would be for the last time. i'm sorry to anyone of you if this triggers you. i love you.

you should read this imagine while listening to: before you go

➳

The light coming in from the window on your right illuminates the whole room, it’s late afternoon but the sun shines almost as if it were noon. The scorching heat has now passed, there is a breeze that cools the air and spreads the scent of the grill in the garden, alternating the scent of grilled vegetables and steaks throughout the house. The pool water is still moving, the inflatable flamingo is wedged near the pool stairs and you can still see the tracks of Michael's wet feet near the diving board.

Halsey's songs are repeated at a low volume, but the guys sing them out loud and a smile forms on your face as you see how they are always ready to support their friends, not only publicly with tweets or instagram stories, but also in private, enjoying music like normal people do.

You hold onto the sweatshirt Ashton gave you as you grab your cell phone from the sofa and put it in your shorts pocket. Your hair is still wet from the shower you just took and it’s leaking few drops of water as you head outside, where your friends are starting to set the table for dinner.

You don't know how it happened, you have vague memories, but you feel grateful to have them around you, to have the opportunity to consider them as a second family, to be able to hug them and to be able to laugh with them. It is a fortune that not everyone has and you make sure you don't waste this opportunity.

“Honey!” Ashton yells, shaking his hand up and looking at you with an amused look. A few tufts of hair fall in front of his face and with one hand he tries to move them back, only to find them in front of his eyes again. His swimsuit is now dry, his chest is red from staying under the sun all day but his tattoos still manage to stand out in the tan and a huge smile covers his face.

Seeing him so happy, confident, at peace with his mind and in love with life, warms your heart and you almost feel like crying of joy in seeing him like this.

You wiped his tears, hugged him under the covers and held him a million times as his demons took over, when mirrors became enemies and food scared him.

You turned off his cell phone every time he read comments about his body and spent sleepless nights keeping him company while he vented his frustration by playing the drums.

You held out your hand to him while accompanying him in his battle against himself, you kissed him as he went through hell and his joy was worth every single tear.

You are proud of him, of the way he went back to wearing his favorite t-shirts and of the way he has come to love all his flaws, even though you're still sure he doesn't even have one.

As you leave the house, a cool breeze passes through your hair and you instinctively close your eyes to be able to appreciate the moment of coolness in the terrible heat of the last few days.

When you open your eyes, amazement takes over your body: the sky is not simply blue like the water in the pool you've been in all afternoon, but pink and orange clouds cover it completely; the sun hides behind them, tinges the sky with more intense colors and you feel your soul leave your body at the sight of so much beauty.

The sunset is so mesmerizing that you don't even feel the need to pick up your phone and take a picture of it, it's so beautiful that you're sure not even the best cameras would be able to capture such a marvel.

It’s a pink and orange sunset, bigger clouds are the backdrop to smaller more intense colors and the skyline of the city is slowly tinged with black, the lights of the buildings begin to see each other more and the world slows down as it prepares for the quietest hours.

The sunset arouses familiar, nostalgic, certainly not typical emotions in you; it’s so beautiful that you feel like you are living a dream, you pinch your arm lightly to make sure you are awake but Ashton's laugh reminds you that it is reality and, with that melody in the background, you understand that the difference between dream and reality is not that big.

And even if it were a dream, you know that dreaming never hurt anybody.

As the sunset surrounds you in a warm hug, a small white butterfly begins to flutter around you, spinning around and bringing a smile to your lips. The insect is small, but in the orange sky it stands out in an important way, making you feel like a Disney princess. You stretch your hand up, raising your forefinger and inviting the little butterfly to lean on it and, without fear, it leans on it, resting its wings and showing itself even more beautiful than you thought.

It’s white but at the corners of its wings it has black spots, its gaze seems to be directed towards you as its antennae move delicately. A sense of awe and wonder makes its way inside of you and you slowly bring the butterfly closer to you so you can admire it better, noticing how safe it continues to feel with you.

“Is everything alright?” Sierra asks as she sets the plates on the table, she's too busy to notice how you seem to be in symbiosis with the butterfly.

“Yeah.” You whisper while the insect continues to stay on your finger, motionless, leading you to feel a sense of peace in the moment you are living.

Suddenly, while the blue sky is giving its space to the dark night, the butterfly takes off and, after making another turn around you, heads towards the sky and merges with the lights of the stars.

You walk back to your friends, still confused about what just happened, and you see Michael trying to move the fire bowl to the corner of the pool. “Mike, if I were you I'd be more careful, you're not the luckiest person when it comes to fire.” You smile and you hear your friends laughing out loud as a grin appears on Michael's face.

“Don't worry, Crystal has seen enough tv shows about doctors to know what to do if I get burned again.” He replies looking at his girlfriend and laughing.

“Shut up and come here,” Crystal responds by pretending to be offended. “Dinner’s ready.” her lips try to hold back the smile that is forming on her face.

You sit on your boyfriend's lap while Luke sets the meat on the plates and Sierra pours the beer into your glass. Ashton pushes your hair to the side and kisses you on the neck, giving you goosebumps and getting winks from his friends.

“You’re terrible.” he replies while looking at them and squeezing his hands on your lap, his head resting on your back while he rolls his eyes and smiles. Everyone burst out laughing and the sound of their laughter still feels like the most beautiful melody to you.

As you are about to take your first bite, your phone starts ringing and vibrating inside the pocket of your shorts. You put your fork down and stand up, being careful not to trip over Ashton's feet as he gives you a questioning look. You give him a kiss on his head and you go away slightly from your group so you can hear better.

Your mother's voice is low as you bring the phone to your ear, a smile forms on your face to hear the sound of her voice but the world collapses on you a few seconds later, when her words become understandable while she cries.

The conversation is short-lived, it is mostly made up of your mother's sobs and words you never wanted to hear. Your mouth opens slightly and your heart seems to stop. And when she closes the call, you have a hard time figuring out if you are having a nightmare or if you are still in reality.

“Was that your lover on the phone?” Calum smiles as you stare at your phone screen as soon as you hang up the call. You look up and see everyone's gaze on you as your eyes start to pinch.

“It was my mother,” you take a deep sigh as you try to find the courage to speak. “My grandmother died a couple of hours ago. She's gone and-” and the words die in your mouth.

Your friends' smiles quickly transform as their brows rise and their eyes lose their light. Crystal is the first to hug you, in less than a second her arms are around you but it's all so surreal that you can't even find the strength to move your body. You hear whispers, but your ears are muffled as Ashton takes the place of your best friend and holds you close to his chest, kissing your hair and whispering words of comfort.

It all happens so fast that you struggle to metabolize, it seems to you that the whole world has stopped or is going too fast, it is hard to try to understand as your mind repeats your mother's words all over again.

You talked to your grandmother the day before, you described to her the weather and you told her all the projects you had in mind, including going to see her as soon as possible. She had told you some stories from her past because she knew how much you loved hearing stories from other times and then you said goodbye to her in a hurry because someone had rang the doorbell.

You didn't tell her you loved her and your heart breaks even more at the realization that she left without knowing the affection you felt for her.

Did she know you loved her? Did she know that she was the most important person to you? Did she know you were grateful for all the sacrifices she had made to make you happy? Did she know you were proud of her? Did she know you loved the way she kissed your hands? Did she know how much you cared about her? Or did she pass wondering if you loved her?

If that were the case, you would never forgive yourself.

Part of you, however, is aware that behind those wrinkles and trembling hands, there were years of wisdom and intelligence and that, even when she was sick, she knew that you loved her unconditionally.

You still remember how she was the one who taught you to ride a bike when your parents were too busy working, how her hunched back bent even more as she pushed you along the street outside your childhood house, letting you go on your own when you learned, while still lying to you about how her hands were attached to the bike, to make you feel protected.

You certainly still remember the way she bragged about you, how she proudly used to tell all the ladies at the grocery store that you were her niece, her greatest joy and the best gift she ever received.

And, if you close your eyes and focus, you can still feel the warmth of the old fireplace in her home, of her hands holding yours while your face was resting on her shoulder. You can still hear the sound of burning wood, of her sweet voice singing melodies belonging to past eras while, between one verse and another, her lips kissed your head and whispered words of love.

Most of all, you have memories of how her arms wrapped around your little body when there was a thunderstorm, when the screams inside your house got too loud and when you saw her again after weeks, with your hearts coming back to beat in unison and your lungs beginning to breathe again.

Now that she is gone, who would be by your side? Who would teach you to cook and sew?

You would no longer hear her heart beating when you leaned against her chest, you would no longer hear the sound of her breaths when you slept next to her, you would no longer wake up with the smell of the flowers she grew and, above all, her dry, wrinkled lips would no longer whisper “I love you” to you.

All the fights, all the moments when you were bothered by her calls and all your snorting about the boredom of being with her bring a pang to your heart that tastes of guilt and arrogance, of shame and wasted moments that won't come back.

She was now gone, her heart had beaten for the last time and her eyes had stopped shining and the more time passes, the more her absence starts to hurt.

While your friends are around you to not leave you alone and Ashton hugs you tightly while caressing your hair, everything seems to start to make sense: the butterfly that just moments before had leaned on your hand, the sunset so beautiful and intense - she was there, she was giving you her last goodbye with all the delicacy possible.

She was reassuring you that she will always be there for you, that she will be in the sunsets under which you will fall asleep and that she will be the butterflies that will fly around in the sky, to reassure you that everything’s gonna be alright.

And with this new certainty and a weight in your chest that will slowly go away, you let yourself go, the tears begin to roll down your face and the sobs echo in the silence of the evening, as the stars light up the sky and God gains a new angel.

Ashton knows it won't be easy, that it will be months before that pain will become more bearable and that family lunches and dinners will be harder, that that empty chair around the table will be a stab in the heart every time.

But he also knows that you are strong, that you will be able to overcome everything, that sadness will turn into a smile when you’ll remember her and that, whatever happens, in a way or another, he will always be there next to you, just like your grandma used to be.

—

[love-archon]

A Day With The Genshin Characters: Liyue Edition

Today's going to be a busy day! Check your planner for who you'll be meeting with- as one of the esteemed members of the Liyue Qixing, you cannot afford to be late to any appointment. 

• 6:00, Ningguang: Morning Tea 

Although you say you love your job, waking up at un-archonly hours has to be the part you like the least. Even getting up at five in the morning, the hour when tigers prowl, is still not enough time to prepare for a meeting with the Tianquan. You rush around frantically choosing the best outfit, fragrance, and hair arrangement to present yourself to Lady Ningguang, and you're halfway out the door when it hits you- you forgot to bring a gift with you!

"Right on time," Ningguang says, pleased. You smile, hoping she won't hear your heart beating from anxiety. "And what a lovely present, too... is there any doubt you were appointed as one of the seven Qixing?" (You can't tell if it's her rare praise, or the sheer altitude you're at within the Jade Chamber, that's making your head spin).

• 7:00, Keqing: Business Meeting 

You barely have time to rest before Keqing whisks you away to Yuehai Pavilion. You're very close friends, and you admire the girl for her tenacity and diligence. The conversation flows easily as you walk to your destination under a cloudless sky. It's a wonderfully sunny moment, but the moment the doors lock, you mean business. In the next two hours, you conquer matters that would normally take days to resolve, and the two of you exchange grins. 

"There we go!" Keqing breathes a sigh of relief, pushing away the last stack of papers. She holds up her hand, and you high-five. "You know, I like how easily you keep up with me. You even caught mistakes I would have missed... things like this make me even more certain Liyue is better off in human hands."

• 9:00: Check In With Ganyu

With such a hectic schedule, Ganyu is your saving grace. It's always important to check in with her, just to make sure nothing you have planned catches you by surprise, and sometimes you wonder why others rarely do the same. She's quite lonely, and often mentions how nice it is that you speak with her every day and bring her gifts to help with work. It may be part of your job to be courteous, but... it does help her feel less lonely and conflicted with herself. 

"Qingxin flowers? Thank you so much." She accepts them gratefully, smiling at you with warm eyes. "I still have that new stationery you gave me, too. You're so kind for remembering the things I like!"

• 9:30: Talk to Beidou

The tea in the Jade Chamber was just a front for Ningguang to spring a request on you- meet with the captain of the Crux Fleet to discuss her... recent smuggling habits. But Beidou merely laughs heartily when you arrive. A crewmate tosses her a sack of Mora, and she slits it open, letting the payment shower over you in a spray of gold. And then, before you know what's happening, you're roped into helping them find a treasure rumored to be lost beneath the waves. 

"So, Ningguang though sending her star diplomat would get me to let up, huh!" You blush, wondering how you could be so easy to read under her ruby eye. "I was impressed by your words, and how well you fought by my side. But the annoyance of the Liyue Qixing is of no concern to me."

• 12:00, Tartaglia: TEACH HIM A LESSON!

As the member of the Qixing that oversees diplomacy and foreign relations, it's you that must meet with the Fatui Harbinger. He's quite good at playing pretend- all your underlings believed he was a naive, careless young man, and easily manipulated, too. And all of them ended up suppressing the urge to break something after they were done conversing with him. On your honor as one of Liyue's seven stars, you vow to not make their mistakes. 

"You're asking why I don't try to drive you mad?" he said, setting down his fork. You'd caved in and given him one after watching him struggle with chopsticks for far too long. "You're the only one who isn't a bore to talk to, that's all-" so this was on purpose?!- "and besides, I want to challenge you to a fight afterwards! Your vision's getting quite dusty from neglect, comrade. Let's fix that!"

• 2:00, Yanfei: Discussion of Legal Matters

Yanfei's counsel is an invaluable treasure. Especially when dealing with an opponent as vicious as Snezhnaya's Fatui, who deserve to have her wrath unleashed upon them. You walk to her office with a gleam in your eyes, and are delighted to see an equal fire already blazing in hers. For the next few hours, you two take the "suggestions" Tartaglia passed on from the Northland Bank and scheme on how to best tear them to shreds with the law.

"That man-childe's been giving you trouble again, huh," she giggles. "What did he come up with this time~? I've been waiting for an excuse to bring out the latest edition of my lawbook!" And with that, Yanfei slams it down, and the sheer weight of it nearly cracks her desk. "He won't know what hit him!"

• 4:00: Free Time

Of course, "free time" simply means that you have no meetings scheduled for this hour, which lets you adequately prepare for the next day's events. Tomorrow is your appointment with the Feiyun Commerce Guild, which you already know will require great patience and strength of mind. Because the head of the guild, and his eldest son, the future head, are- to put it mildly- not very bright... it's fortunate, then, that the second son Xingqiu has a good head on his shoulders.  

"Tomorrow, you should go straight to me instead," Xingqiu informs you cheerily, handing you a popsicle. Apparently, he keeps them around for his friend Chongyun, who's off to complete another exorcism. "I'll be sure to set everything in order." His eyes gleam. "And then, I can tell you the latest developments in 'A Legend of Sword'!"

• 5:00: Catch Xinyan's Concert!

Liyue's one and only rock musician isn't hard to find, thanks to the designated performance spots scattered around the city. You stop by at the raised platform where she's rocking out, where other people are listening as well. Xinyan strikes a peace sign in the air, and her vision glows with energy before the stage erupts with pillars of fire; her audience bursts into cheers and applause, and she's beaming as she leaps down to meet you. 

"Wait, seriously? You really changed up the rules a lil' so it'll be easier for me to hold concerts here?" Her eyes shine as they scan the papers- one of the many results of your work today in Yuehai. "Thank you so much! Wait-" she picks up her guitar again, giving it an experimental riff. "Let me think up a quick song for ya as thanks- I insist!"

• 6:00: Wangsheng Funeral Parlor 

Lately, you've been sent particularly determined requests from the other nations about allowing tourists to observe the ancient funeral rites. You already know the answer's gonna be a hard no, but the laws written by Rex Lapis state that you must check with the director anyway. She's not there when you arrive, so a consultant, Zhongli, brings you tea while you wait for her. You sit together in the fading sun, waiting for Hu Tao's familiar song to rise above the hill. 

Zhongli takes a quiet sip from his cup, closing his luminous eyes. "Although it was Rex Lapis who created the laws, they are not meant to be set in stone. Humans must revise the contract as they see fit, so that it will not erode with the passage of time." Something makes you feel as though it's more significant to him than you know. Then, he smiles slightly. "But, just looking at the people leading the way in his absence, like you... there's no need for me to worry."

• 8:00: Dinner; Request Chef Xiangling

The Wanmin Restaurant, run by Chef Mao and his daughter, is a breath of fresh air. While the rest of Liyue is divided between the "Li" and "Yue" styles of cooking, Xiangling pays the conflict no mind. Instead, she's not afraid to be daring and experiment, blazing ahead without worrying about what others think. You can see some similarities between her and Keqing, but it's best not to mention it after that disastrous banquet they organized together... 

"Had a rough day, didn't you?" Xiangling asks, her golden eyes twinkling as she hands you the steaming hot bowl. "Well, for you, I made sure to prepare your favorite dish! I hope you don't mind if I added a lizard or two this time- I'm kidding!" she adds quickly, upon seeing alarm flash across your face. 

• 9:00: Return Home

After everything that happened, you're eager to collect the reports from your subordinates and head home to draft new revisions for Tianquan Ningguang to look over (and then, hopefully, get some rest). But as you're walking on the path to your neighborhood, you spot a little girl sitting in the grass, clutching her head. Alarm rises in your chest as you rush over to see what's wrong, and why she's alone- only to realize with a start that she's the child that returned from the dead.  

"Thank you for taking Qiqi back to Bubu Pharmacy," she says, reading solemnly from her notebook (where the entire thank-you script is written). Even when you set her down, she's still reading the pieces of paper. "Will you tell Dr. Baizhu where I got lost? Please and thank you, again."

• 10:00: Sleep

In the end, you never did get to those revisions. You can hear your fellow Qixing scolding you in your head, but at least you got plenty of other things done; the well-oiled machine that is Liyue will still keep running on thanks to the tasks you accomplished today. Someday, even the adepti will have to acknowledge the ability of humans... you turn in your bed to feel the coolness of the other side. Speaking of adepti... the night air coming in... reminds you of... "Xiao..."

"I thought you were in danger," the adeptus huffs. The moment you said his name, you'd finally fallen asleep, but it still brought Xiao to you- balanced on the windowsill, hair waving in the breeze. "Still... I'm... glad that you're alright," he admits, glancing at you to make sure you're not awake to hear. "Rest well, bright star of Liyue." And then, with a sound like a sigh- or was it the wind?- he's gone.

[falling-pages]

Sun and Moon: Tamakyo

If I had to suffer, then so do all of you.

-

Kyoya refuses to die without Tamaki by his side.

-

“I supposed as in life, we would cross this threshold together, and perhaps meet again on the other side.”

"It's time to go, Kyoya."

“Perhaps we shall be reincarnated as the sun and moon.”

-

Kyoya Ootori x Tamaki Suoh

Genre: Happy ending angst, established relationship

Warnings: Double character death, car crash

-

Silence was the most unnatural part of death, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

It throbbed like bass between his ears, slipping him an unholy cocktail of drowsiness and pain. The world was muted, smothered by the white light seeping into his vision. He wondered if he had gone blind and deaf, but that wouldn’t explain the numbness in his body.

Kyoya knew he was alive, at least in some sense. He felt the vibrations in his fingertips, drumming into his thigh from his leather seat, so he knew there was a world around him. But he drifted, felt his spirit lean back and float in the pool. His fingers skimmed the water. Some current toyed with him, curled one finger around his body and enticed him forward, away from shore, into the warm water stretching beyond infinity. He couldn’t see it, but he sensed it, felt the peace and rest and silence beckoning for him, just out of his grasp, the palm of his hand.

His soul chuckled. Peace and rest was not something he was acquainted with in life. And ever since Tamaki came into his life, he hadn’t known silence.

Tamaki.

As warm as the water felt, as gentle as the hand was that cradled him, as chillingly enticing was the voice that called him forward, he couldn’t go alone. The silence was wrong without him. Kyoya couldn’t sense another soul out on the water, so he sat up, sputtering in the mist, pushing away the hand that grabbed him.

Tamaki?

The silence ended like the snap of a whip, and the air filled Kyoya’s lungs to the point where he felt he’d suffocate with too much. Suddenly sober, the morphine drip ripped away. He gasped as hard as his fragile lungs could and opened his eyes.

The white subliminal space was gone, replaced with the present he had so peacefully been taken away from.

He saw the blood first. How it dripped from Tamaki’s nose, gushed from his mouth. His head smashed forward on the dashboard, neck billowed by the white airbag. It, too, was stained with him, a flowery design etched into the cloth, like a painting, the most grotesque, accidental painting.

The sight should have shocked him. To be yanked from the edge of peace and confronted with the harbinger should have made his soul cry out. But it may have been the smoke, or the pain so strong it diluted everything else, or even just dangling on the edge of eternal collapse that just...allowed him to see. Like his soul was half-way out the door, tugging him by the hand and yet allowing him one last look.

One last look to say goodbye.

Is this how it ends? Two lovers in a crushed car, dangling over the precipice of life and death? After all they had been through, was this to be their destiny?

Tamaki was alive. As Kyoya’s ears began to ring, his lover poked out a tiny smile. Though his eyes were bruised shut, he inhaled through his mouth, lips upturned like he had just woken up from a delicious dream. Kyoya wondered if he were in the liminal white space, too, and if he had returned to life just to find him again.

It all started with a smile, and now it ended with one.

Kyoya had always considered life to be a straight line. Different for everyone, sure, but in a way, still the same. You had to have a plan to be successful, and too many options could destroy a monument of plans. Everyone in their order, everything in its place. It was the Ootori way, his way.

Until Tamaki blasted through those plans like dynamite. That smile was a more deadly weapon than any man could create.

It had annoyed him in life, but he had learned to adore it. Now, it comforted him in death.

Tamaki’s head was twisted towards him, exactly how he laid in bed. Whenever he hadn’t wrapped them in body heat and blankets, Tamaki liked to lay on his side and look at him, eventually falling asleep like that. It made for quite the vantage point for Kyoya. Able to see his back rise with every breath, eyebrows furrow so cutely, lips slightly parted to allow air and drool--yes, the King drooled--to escape. It didn’t help Kyoya sleep, but it did help him relax. It gave him peace.

He looked the same here. Despite the blood, despite the smoke and haze, Kyoya imagined them back in their bed. He moved to kiss that beautiful brow, pull the blanket up further around them. Tamaki couldn’t sleep cold, else he’d have nightmares and whine and cling--

But as he reached, a cutting pain wove around his wrist, and he jerked away from the jagged edge of machinery in his path. The hiss of some gas or heat squeezed his ear. He tried to move away, but the pressure on his neck was too great. The force of the crash had thrust him forward; something had pinned his left elbow, while the seatbelt cut against his throat, choking him of the little air he had left. Weight settled against the back of his neck, tilting his face up until his delicate Adam’s Apple jutted into the steering wheel.

There was no coming back from this.

Miraculously, his glasses remained on, though one lens had shattered. Kyoya felt the shards on his cheek but couldn’t brush them away. He felt the blood drip on his hand, but everything else below his neck was numb, likely paralyzed. Waiting for the pressure against his spinal column to squeeze the rest of his nerves to asphyxiation, to snap and choke the life out of him.

He sunk his head into the steering wheel, awaiting the inevitable. He had no regrets about leaving the white space to find Tamaki, but now he was ready to go back. Ready to rest, be at peace, out of pain.

Once his breaths grew shallow, he mustered his last kindling of strength to gaze one last time at his beloved. Tamaki still hadn’t opened his eyes, but that dopey grin still stretched across his mouth. He reached out for Kyoya’s hand and caught it, intertwining their fingers. Intimate moments splayed through their minds, where they had clutched hands and cried, laughed, kissed, loved. And Kyoya didn’t know who to thank for allowing him this last mercy, but he thanked them anyways.

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

When they appeared in the white space, they were still holding hands.

The light was just as blinding as before, and everything was the same. Just a vast expanse of nothingness, a blank page, no definitive land or water, but they felt it, all the same. They knew if they took one more step, the current would pull them into whatever came next.

Tamaki squeezed Kyoya’s hand. Or, rather, his soul did. When Kyoya looked down, he saw no body, nor the blond he traversed Death to retrieve. But he felt his spirit, and as long as they were together, he didn’t care what happened.

The first thing he heard was Tamaki’s laugh. It pierced through death’s cotton and filled his ears and lungs with mirth, and when Kyoya breathed in, all he could feel was light, bright and happy and airy, so pure and beautiful he wondered how he had once survived on oxygen alone. The unadulterated essence of his soul, spouting from the one standing beside him.

“Kyoya, you mean to tell me that you left this?” Tamaki’s soul cried, tugging him to the shoreline.

Kyoya tripped suddenly, but Tamaki’s grip kept him stable as they rushed. He wanted to tell his beloved to wait, that they had all the time in the world and then some, and once they enter that sea, there’s no going back, but he knew even in death he was unlikely to listen.

He considered Tamaki’s question, then shook his head and allowed himself to be pulled forward. “What is there to leave?”

“Such beauty! Such radiance!” Tamaki resumed, his soul twirling around. “I saw your spirit leave, and then it came back...you left this for me?”

They reached the edge of the water. Though it all remained a vast expanse of white, Kyoya felt the warmth lapping at his toes. He jerked Tamaki’s hand back. Unsure of what was going to happen when they stepped in, he wanted to hold on to his last shreds of mortality, to keep Tamaki’s spirit close before eternity separated them.

“I know how you hate going places alone,” he said. “I supposed as in life, we would cross this threshold together, and perhaps meet again on the other side.”

Tamaki’s soul burned brighter, if that were even possible. Though he could not see him, he felt real, as palpable as the earth. He asked, “Tamaki, what does my soul look like to you?”

“Hmm.” The spirit dulled in thought. “I can’t really see you, but I feel you near. You feel...cool. Like shelter. Like a raincloud, or the moon. You are a Shadow King, my love, softer now than you were in life.”

Kyoya swallowed, hearing the curiosity in the next question. “What do I look like?” Tamaki’s soul asked.

“You are a ball of light,” he said. The spirit flamed. “You are warm beside me. You light my way. You have always been the light to my path, and I would be lost without you.”

Like a supernova, Tamaki became blinding, enough to hurt the eyes, a sign of the times, but Kyoya absorbed it, breathed in every bit of his lover’s happiness.

“Come,” Tamaki said, tugging Kyoya’s hand. They entered the water, and Kyoya heard the siren song once more. “Perhaps we shall be reincarnated as the sun and moon.”

They waded further into the white space. Once they hit waist-depth, Kyoya stopped again. He breathed it in, the last memory of his life, all he had done, all he had loved. Did he do enough? Had he succumbed to the pressure of his family? Had he matched the love Tamaki so selflessly poured into him?

His world was ending, and all he had accomplished didn’t matter. It couldn’t save him from pain, from the seatbelt cutting his arms and Death’s kiss against his neck. All his wealth scattered to the wind, his reputation buried with him, every business deal as worthless as the dirt beneath his feet. Was he enough? Had he done enough?

Tamaki’s soul squeezed his hand. “It’s time to go, Kyoya.”

Yes. It was enough.

-

Kofi

[songbirdstyles]

kodachrome.

summary: you give harry a camera for his birthday and the two of you are more than excited to put it to good use.

warnings: smut, 18+

word count: 5k

song inspo.: kodachrome - paul simon

It’s true that you may have had ulterior motives with Harry’s birthday gift.

His hands are delicate, fingertips running across the surface of the Polaroid camera as though he’d break it if his grip got any tighter. The packs of film you’d purchased with the camera rest on the coffee table, being thoroughly ignored while Harry examines his gift, and you duck your head just a bit to read his expression. Slightly confused, brows furrowed, a small grin tugging at his lips - it’s what you’d expected with a gift like this, because it isn’t as though either of you need a camera. Surely both of your phones are better quality than the photos you’ll be taking with the Polaroid but it’s for the aesthetic, you suppose. 

“Do you like it?” you question, voice soft. 

Harry rests the camera on his lap and glances up at you, large hand moving to rest over your knee through your jeans. “Well, I love it, ‘course.”

There’s a second part of his response that’s left unsaid - perhaps the question of why you’d gotten him it - so you lean in, chin resting on your boyfriend’s shoulder and your lips drifting dangerously close to his ear. Just enough that you know his jeans are growing tighter and he shifts in his seat on your living room couch as if to prove it to you. “Thought it might be fun to start taking pictures of each other.”

A beat passes with silence, and then he turns his head to look at you, nearly bemused by the concept, as though he doesn’t know exactly what you’re implying. “Wha’ kinda pictures?”

You hum softly, reaching over to the coffee table to pick up one of the film packages, already beginning to tear open the wrapper. “The kind that’ll make touring more fun for both of us.”

Harry pauses, eyes narrowing at your fingers ripping open the crinkly film packaging, and you can practically hear his rebuttal of the idea before he says it. “Thought we said no nudes - people could find ‘em, babe.”

“Physical copies are more secure than digital ones,” you tell him, picking up the camera from his lap to put the film in. “Are you telling me you don’t want to take pictures of me sucking you off to have with you on tour? ‘Cause that’s very out of character for you, Mr. Styles.”

He snorts and the familiar sound is like music to your ears, and then he reaches over to grab the film-loaded Polaroid from your hands, fingers tracing over the small rainbow printed on the front of the camera. “I do,” he confesses, voice dropping in a way you recognize all too well, and your stomach drops with it. “Yeah, I do.”

You lean sideways, resting against the arm of the couch as Harry shifts to face you, raising the camera up to his face with a grin gracing his lips that doesn’t at all match the mood of what you do next - mere seconds before Harry takes the picture, you grip onto the hem of your shirt, tugging it up and over your chest for the camera to capture as his mouth drops into a soft ‘o.’

The click of the photo being taken is nearly deafening against the sudden thick silence, flash blinding you for just a moment and you’re left blinking furiously to regain sight as Harry lowers the camera to his lap. The camera spits out the photo, still white and undeveloped, and he picks it up with delicate fingers to rest it on the couch cushion between you two.

Your shirt drops back over your chest as you shift closer to Harry, pretending like you don’t hear the way his breathing has picked up and how his eyes keep darting to examine your side profile as if trying to see if you’re as affected as the photo as he is - and you are, of course. It’s possibly one of the hottest things you could ever imagine doing with him, taking photos like that, and you can’t lie and say that the redness blooming in his cheeks isn’t adding to the moisture you’re feeling in your panties.

You drag your thumb over the image slowly developing on the Polaroid between you. You can see the beginnings of the outline of your body, though it’s too light to discern the details yet. “Starting to come to. What do you think?”

It’s a stupid question and you already know the answer but it’s more gratifying to hear the way Harry’s voice cracks as he begins, “S’hot.”

“Just hot?”

“Like, g’na cum in m’pants hot.”

You grin and Harry turns his head and it’s practically all you can do to lean in, press your lips to his and feel his hand, pressing to your thigh and sliding upwards. Even through your jeans, his fingers so close to the spot you’re yearning for him has your stomach turning, and you raise your palm to press delicately against his cheek, holding his face close to yours. His breath smells and tastes like the birthday cake you’d been eating in the kitchen with a tinge of expensive wine from dinner with all of your friends but above all he tastes like Harry, the man you love so much, the man who’s reaching down to the couch between you two and picking up the Polaroid with two careful fingers.

“Look,” Harry hums softly as he pulls away from you and you look down at the picture to examine it with him. It’s you, in full color, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt tight above your breasts, exposing the cherry-red bra you’re donning beneath. It’s Harry’s favorite bra of yours -  meant to be a surprise for later tonight but you don’t think he’ll mind seeing it early. The photo cuts off halfway up your face but you can see your smirk, smug as you saw the shock on his face just as the photo took. “S’developed.”

 --

 Harry’s soft moans are like music to your ears - like a favorite song and you’d love nothing more than to listen to it on repeat, plug in your headphones and tilt your head back until it’s stuck in your head like an earworm.

For now, though, you’re more than content to enjoy them in the moment, and God, you’re enjoying it. He’s always vocal in bed but even more so when you ride him, when his fingers are digging bruises into your thighs to help your movements up and down and the only words that manage to fall off of his lips are breathy cries of your name like prayer, as though you’re a goddess and he’s merely a worshipper at your altar.

Your hips slow into a gentle roll against his, clit brushing up against his pelvic bone in a way that has a chill rolling up your spine, and your hand slides from its place on Harry’s chest to his throat. Wraps around his neck just so, squeezing experimentally to listen to the way his moans crackle in the thick, humid air of your London bedroom, and a rush of arousal gushes to your core at the sight and sound.

“Look at me,” you order Harry, and you think you understand why he’s always so reluctant to hand you the reins when you want them. There’s something special about being above him, knowing that you can control what he does with just an authoritative lilt in your voice - even if he has the strength to flip you over at any moment. Deep down, you reckon he likes being below you sometimes just as much as you adore being on top. When he doesn’t obey your commands, eyes still rolled to the back of his head, you pause your movements completely, and his eyes fly open as if you’d pried them open. “Look at me, Har.”

You tighten your hand around his throat again as his eyes bore into yours, pupils clouded with lust that you’re sure are reflected in your own. When you’re positive he won’t look away from you, his hips bucking up in just the slightest for any semblance of movement, you resume your motions. Roll your hips just once against his, moan catching in your throat, and you keep going. You lift your hips up, thighs trembling to hold yourself up before sinking back down, feeling him fill you again and again.

“Fuck -” Harry gasps, tone cracking and you grin down at him, slamming your hips into his hard enough that the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowers his voice - but it doesn’t, and you’re oh so glad that you could hear it. “Feels - feels so good, babe.”

As dominant as you’re trying to be, his praise nearly makes you break and it would be the perfect moment for him to grab your thighs and flip you over but you regain your composure just as fast as you’d lost it. Your voice is shaky as you loosen your grip ever so slightly on his neck, leaning backwards enough so your clit is on display for him, glistening wet with the mixture of your juices together. “R - rub my clit for me.”

And he complies, hand sliding down his sweaty abdomen until two fingers are pressed to your clit, rubbing soft circles into the overly sensitive nub but you don’t want soft, you want hard. So you push your body forward, pressing your clit further into his fingers and he’s not stupid - he catches the hint and presses down harder, circles tightening into hard rubs that has your head dropping back, sweaty hair sticking to your back.

“God,” you tell him, rocking your hips more against his as a reward, “feels so good, Har. Doin’ so good - keep doing that.”

And he does, of course. Keeps rubbing your clit like he was born for it and in return you ride him with the new form of vigor that he earns, eyes rolling back into your head. When you look back down at him, grip tightening like a noose around his throat, you’re nearly overwhelmed by how fucking spectacular he looks. All sweaty hair, mouth dropped open in a permanent ‘o’ and his eyes struggling to stay open.

You could decide to merely engrave it in your brain for all eternity, but you have a better idea to memorialize it.

You swallow thickly, hips slowing to a near halt as Harry’s eyes fly completely open, threatening to complain. “R - reach into the drawer, Har. The nightstand.”

You can read the confusion on his face clear as day but he follows your orders, reaching over to tug open the nightstand drawer. Sitting inside, clear as day, sits the white Polaroid camera, and Harry knows what to do before you tell him to. He picks it up with one shaky hand and you immediately reach to grab it from him, turning it over briefly in your hands before raising it up to your face.

Briefly your hips roll over his, gentle but enough for him to rest his head back into his pillow, lips turning upwards into a satisfied grin and you know that’s the best shot you’ll get - his face contorted with pleasure, hair spread out over the pillow, and the flash of the picture being taken only makes the scene look that much more angelic.

You grab the photo with two shaking fingers and lift it up to examine it, resting the camera on the bed beside you. It hasn’t developed and so you shake it just for a moment, feeling increasingly needy to fucking see it but you know it will take time - and you certainly have a lot of that.

“Open up,” you direct and he obeys, mouth dropping open and you insert the picture onto his mouth, watching his teeth and lips clamp onto it. “Now, keep it nice like that ‘till it develops. You can do that, can’t you? ‘Course you can.”

 --

 “Keep those eyes on me, babe.”

It’s a task that’s easier said than done, eyes rolling nearly completely back in your head as you search to meet Harry’s. When your eyes find his it’s difficult to maintain, vision nearly completely upside down as you hang off the edge of the bed of your Malibu hotel room, fingers gripping so tight onto the duvet you’d be surprised if your nails hadn’t torn through the fabric. Gripping the coversis the only way to not reach out for Harry’s thighs and he’d forbid you from doing so with the threat of not being able to cum - a risk you’re rather unwilling to take.

His fingers brush your neck, surely searching for the bulge indicative of how far his cock is shoved down your throat, and you can tell he’s found it when he squeezes just hard enough to have your vision go fuzzy. Your tongue swirls around the swollen tip of his cock, feeling him slide out of your mouth just enough for you to press a gentle kiss to the tip, his hiss showing how much he appreciated the gesture before he’s pushing back in your mouth.

He’d been starting slow, fucking your throat gentle to make sure you’re alright with it. It’s not often that you do this - you prefer to be on your knees for him, with his hands in your hair to occasionally force you to go faster. But there is certainly something better about this, struggling to keep your eyes open and feeling blood rush to your head while trying to keep your sore jaw wide open for Harry to fuck.

Eventually, though, the slow pace had been abandoned and you can feel him picking up the pace, hips bucking into your face just fast enough to make you feel like you’re losing your damn mind but you wouldn’t have it any other way, even if you’re nearly gagging on him with every other thrust.

“God,” Harry moans, and through your blurred vision you can see his palms coming down to cup your face, using his leverage on your cheeks to increase his speed. “God, look so fuckin’ - fuckin’ pretty, baby. So pretty, takin’ my dick so well. Look at tha’ - moan f’me, babe.”

And you do, of course. You moan desperately and it’s muffled as his pelvis presses nearly flat to your face, holding himself there, and your cheeks hollow as you suck him, and you watch him toss his head back with sheer ecstasy and it encourages you to hold out for just another extra second before your hand flies towards his thigh, smacking twice, and he pulls out of you immediately until only the tip of his member rests on your tongue.

His thumbs massage your jawline as you flick your tongue over the tip of his cock, taking the second of pause to catch your breath and relish in his touch. It’s only a moment, though - you jerk your head just once up and he takes the gesture as it is, an invitation to keep going.

“There y’go,” Harry breathes, hands sliding downwards until he’s grasping your throat, heels of his hands massaging the lump in your throat as he had before. “Should take a picture of you - remember this forever.”

Do it, you want to shout at him. You love when he takes pictures and you’d love nothing more than to see yourself from his perspective but it seems that he didn’t need your suggestion - resting on the bed is his Polaroid camera from when you’d dumped your bags when you’d first gotten to the hotel and it’s become a traveling staple since you’d gotten it for him - you two never forget to bring it with you.

His fumbling hands raise the camera to his face, cock still thrusting in and out of your willing mouth and you make sure your eyes are open when the flash goes off, the click intensely loud in the hotel room. Your tongue swirls around his cock, grinning as Harry pulls the photo from the bottom of the camera and tosses it onto the bed, hand sliding down from your throat to your tits and his fingers pluck at your nipple just as the flash goes off again and the camera spurts out another image.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” your boyfriend murmurs, hips thrusting his cock further into your mouth and you gag around him before loosening your throat to take him, no way of encouraging him to continue but he doesn’t need it. “M’so fuckin’ close - and m’gonna cum on your face, and in your mouth, too. D’you want that?”

You nod.

“Knew you would.” His face is nearly adoring as he stares down at you and it’s an expression that doesn’t match the absolute filth of what’s in your mouth. “When I’ve painted your face like - like fuckin’ Michelangelo - m’gonna take another picture, and then m’gonna fuck you.”

It sounds just about perfect to you and you nod vehemently, Harry’s palm closing in around your breast and squeezing and in turn, you tighten your throat around his length and it gets the response you’d wanted - a sharp buck of his hips, and then he pulls out of your mouth.

Your lips close in around the tip of his cock, sucking on the swollen head and you can tell by the way his head drops back that he’s there - just a moment later, his hand pumping his cock, thick ribbons of cum spurt from the head and it’s warm as it lands on your face, and your tongue darts out to lick at the bit of it that had landed near your lips.

His breathing is heavy, desperately trying to catch his breath and it has a rush of pride coursing through your veins - only you do this to him, leave him needy and desperate and just as the smirk graces your lips, he’s muttering, “Say cheese,” and the flash illuminates your hotel room once more.

 --

 There’s something almost relaxing about having Harry’s face between your thighs.

It’s a sensation you’ll never tire of no matter how often it happens - and with his absolute adoration for the act, it happens often. Sometimes it’s hard and intense, fingers digging into your thighs and leaving bruises that won’t vanish for days, but other times - like now - it’s nearly offhanded. Lazy and gentle, his tongue swirling around your clit as your fingers lightly brush through your hair, your free hand clutching Harry’s Polaroid, waiting for the best moment to take the picture you’re yearning.

Your fingernails scratch at his scalp, digging deeper into his head as his teeth brush against your clit just enough to have your back arching upwards, hips bucking up into his mouth as a soft moan escapes your  throat. You can practically feel Harry smirking as his tongue rests flat over your folds, juices gushing to the apex of your thighs at the motion.

His breath is hot against your cunt as his lips close around your clit, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud and his palms smooth up and down your thighs, gently holding your lower body down before your hips can buck up to meet his mouth again. “Try not to move,” Harry mumbles against your pussy, voice sending vibrations rolling through your body and a chill slithers up your spine, head dropping back onto the arm of your living room couch. The movie playing on the television - Groundhog Day - has been long forgotten, abandoned from the moment he pushed you to lie on the couch and pushed off your sweatpants. “C’mon, baby - stay still f’me.”

You swallow thickly, raising the camera to your face and peering at Harry through the small screen. You can’t see his face - just the mess of curls on top of his head and your fingers combing through the locks - his palms, smoothing over your thighs gently - his eyelashes, on display while his eyes remain shut with pleasure. He tells you, again and again, that he loves eating you out more than you do and you’ve always rolled your eyes because there’s no way in hell he likes it more than you -

But sometimes you do believe him.

“Do that again, Har,” you murmur, voice dropping into a breathy cry as Harry repeats what you’d asked him to, his nose nudging at your clit while his tongue flicks at your folds. It’s at that moment that you take the first picture, flash illuminating the slick that coats your mound in a way you hadn’t noted before - at the sudden brightness Harry looks up and you can see your wetness surrounding his chin and mouth, pure proof of how hard he’s been working your cunt, and you take another picture.

The two images fall into your palms and you rest them on your stomach, tugging your shirt further up your torso so they lay flat on your skin. Harry’s eyes drift upwards for just a moment, scanning the faded outline of your legs wrapped around his shoulders and you can see the beginnings of a smirk working his lips before he turns back to the task at hand, tongue parting your cunt before it slips inside of you, thrusting in and out.

“Fuck,” you breathe, legs tightening around his shoulders and forcing his head further into your cunt, and he moans into your folds at the motion. “Fuck!”

“Y’like tha’?” Harry questions, voice rolling through your body again and you toss your head back with a moaning sob, pushing your hips further up to him. “Yeah, y’do.”

“Har -” you swallow thickly as his lips close around your clit, cheeks hollowing as he sucks. “Har - oh my god, I’m gonna - gonna cum -”

“Cum f’me,” and his voice is gruff and desperate, practically a plead for you to cum on his tongue, to bless him with your juices. “Cum on m’tongue.”

Whatever he’d been spouting before about keeping still is long forgotten, your hips bucking upwards to meet his mouth as your orgasm washes through you. It’s intense and near brutal, not any sort of match for the energy Harry had been maintaining but it doesn’t matter - it’s so relieving that you don’t try to fight it, just let your body relax and your head fall back with what’s nearly a scream.

His flexed tongue continues lazily thrusting in and out of your cunt, helping you through your orgasm like it hadn’t affected him one bit but you know that isn’t true. You can see his lips, turned into a grin and his eyes darkened when he glances up at you, hands on your thighs sliding across your skin until his thumbs lazily pull apart your lips, giving him easier access to the parts of you he craves.

He’s going for your second orgasm - you know that. And you also know it won’t be too long until you get there, especially when his thumb focuses on your clit, massaging the over-sensitive nub as your cunt clenches vehemently around his tongue. 

Click. One final picture, of Harry’s hands and face pressed to your pussy, devoted to getting you off and not worried in the slightest about his own neediness. When you’ve rested it to your stomach, next to the other two fully-developed images, you let your arm fall off the side of the couch, letting the camera slip from your fingers and land silently on the carpet, more than intent to focus solely on your boyfriend between your thighs.

Within moments you’re at the edge again, Harry’s face deepening between your thighs to help you ride out your second. Your hips roll against his lips, his thumbs rubbing your clit until you’re sobbing out towards the ceiling, heels digging into his back and forcing his body towards yours. You’re so lost in the sensation, in fact - and on the developed Polaroids sitting on your tummy - you hardly register his mumble of, “Think y’got a third one f’me?” But when you do -

Fuck.

 --

On Harry’s next birthday, you have a very different gift idea planned.

The plane tickets to Greece were the main course - a vacation you’d both dreamt of taking for as long as you’d known each other and you’d never gotten around to it, but you figure there’s no time like the present to knock it off your bucket list. And you could tell Harry was overjoyed, turning and wrapping you in a hug so large you nearly fell off of your seat in the middle of his favourite restaurant.

The side to the main course, though - the appetizer? - is what you’d been waiting for him to open, and not in the middle of the restaurant. It’s only when you two get home, your arms hooked together, giggling like teenagers as Harry fumbles with his keys, that you pull out the small envelope with his name scribbled on the front in red pen.

“Go ahead,” you tell him, pushing yourself to sit on the marble countertops in your kitchen while Harry situates himself between your legs, turning the envelope over in his hands with the same lingering curiosity he’d held last year. “It’s not gonna bite you, Har. Just open it.”

He rolls his eyes at that, a grin tugging his lips upwards as his fingers dig into the paper, tearing the envelope delicately open and you can tell he’s trying not to rough up the wrapper too much, in case he’ll want to keep it for sentimentality but you’re positive that, once he finds what’s inside, he won’t care too much.

Then he dumps the contents of the envelope onto your lap, ten small Polaroid pictures falling onto your dress where it covers your thighs, some face up and some down and as soon as Harry’s eyes scan then, you can see the red blush creeping up his cheeks.

“You fuckin’ minx,” he breathes, and you grin, leaning forward to drop your forehead against his shoulder just as Harry picks up the first Polaroid. Turning it over in his hands you glance down to look at which one he’s examining - it’s a close up he’d taken, his palm wrapped around your neck tight enough that his fingers turned white and you can remember the exact moment. How you’d whined and begged him to go harder, to God, fuck me like a whore, Har, and he’d responded by grabbing your throat so tight you saw stars before he released you.

“I like that one,” you confess, nail dragging over the edge of your jawline where it’s cut off by the camera before you reach down to your lap, overturning every image so you can see them all before grabbing one. “This one - it’s my favorite, though.”

You hold the picture up for Harry to see, watching his eyes narrow as he scrutinizes it. It’s a picture of his back, taken when he’d been bent over putting on pants the morning after Valentine’s Day - you’d intended to be inconspicuous, memorializing the array of deep red scratches you’d left on his skin the night before and you were beyond grateful when you saw the developed image. He’d complained when he heard the click of the camera, telling you that if anyone gets their hands on this, they’ll think I’m being abused - but you knew he liked it, because you caught him peeking at it on your dresser during the next few weeks.

It’s a nice thing to do to include it in his gift, though you’d love nothing more than to frame it on your wall to have there forever.

Harry hums gently, grabbing the picture from your fingers and dropping it back to your lap. You can feel his fingertips, drumming along your thighs as he sorts through the photos. “I remember this one,” he tells you, picking up the end of one of the pictures so you can both see it. Your cheeks flush when you see it - you’d picked it to commemorate the very first (and certainly not the last) time the two of you had tried anal. “God, came so fuckin’ hard tha’ day. Look at tha’ - how red your ass is, fuckin’ beginn’ be to spank you -”

“Alright,” you interrupt, feeling heat creep up your neck to your cheeks as you smack the photo out of his hands. It’s a shaky picture, taken while he was balls deep in your ass, his palm spreading your cheeks apart to get the best angle of his cock inside of you - you remember how good it felt, watching the flash illuminate the room and hearing Harry moan as the photo developed where he’d placed it on your back. The Polaroid lands back on your lap and you reach down, sorting through the array of images until you find the one you’re searching for. “Here - thought you’d like this one the most.”

And - God - when he sees it, grabbing it out of your hands to examine up close, you swear you can hear him whine with need as he brings it up to his eyes. It’s a photo of the two of you in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror that had been at one of your hotel rooms and neither of you could pass up the chance to watch yourselves during the moment. Your dress, pulled down over your chest, his hand covering your breasts with his head buried in your neck, and you remember feeling him pressed inside of you, both so desperate and needy that you needed to capture it.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” You prod, pressing your lips to the side of Harry’s throat as his head drops to the side. It was, perhaps, the best sex you two had ever had - you couldn’t walk for a week without thinking of him. “You love it.”

“I do love it,” he confirms, hand snaking around your side to begin tugging your dress up your sides. “Reckon it’s not too early to start working on another year’s worth of pictures?”