#So yeah this is my musical ep idea | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theonottsbxtch · 29 days ago

Note

HEAR ME OUT 🙂 charles x pianist!reader where he’s like writing/composing a new ep and his producer is like “omg you should totally do a duet with (reader) 🥰” and uh yeah just anything related to that

i can already envision a scene where charles spends most of his time in the dark alone in the studio with his piano but reader is ofc there…

go for any trope you want 🙈

MY MUSE | CL16

an: im sorry this is so long istart writing and then i can't stop. btw i want everyone to know that i was listening to that's not me by skepta and jme while writing this. completely different vibes. SEND MORE REQUESTS IM BORED HOUSESITTING FOR THREE WEEKS

wc: 7.8k

dedicated to @iamred-iamyellow & @iimplicitt

The studio was thick with the scent of aged leather and dust, the faint glow of a single, dimmed lamp casting long shadows across the hardwood floors. Charles sat hunched over the grand piano, its black lacquer surface reflecting the soft light in fractured shards. His fingers hovered above the ivory keys, trembling with a kind of frustrated anticipation, but no sound came. The room seemed to echo with a deafening silence, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on the far wall—an incessant reminder of time slipping away.

He had been here for days, isolated from the outside world during the off season. The once-comforting walls, lined with shelves of dog-eared books and musical scores, now felt like the confines of a cage. His last piece had been a masterpiece—a soaring composition that had flowed from him like water, effortless and pure. It was the kind of music that haunted you long after it ended, the kind that etched itself into the soul of anyone who heard it. But now, the notes eluded him.

Charles ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair and let out a low sigh. There was a pressure building in his chest, like a wound slowly tightening, pulling him apart. For the past week, he had been locked in this room, trying to capture the essence of something even greater than the last, but all he had managed to conjure was noise—fragments of half-formed melodies that crumbled before they could take shape.

He stood abruptly, the sudden movement causing the papers on top of his piano to rustle, brittle with neglect. The room was stifling; the air was thick with the remnants of burnt-out candles and sleepless nights. He paced to the window, pulling the curtains aside to reveal the darkened Maranello streets below, slick with the remnants of a recent rain. The city outside moved on, indifferent to his struggle, its distant hum a reminder that time had no patience for his creative paralysis.

He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, his breath fogging it up in shallow bursts. What was missing? What had he lost in the months since his last piece? It felt like chasing shadows, reaching for something just out of grasp. Every melody he tried to shape slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, and the harder he tried to hold onto it, the faster it dissolved.

The clock struck three in the morning, the chime echoing through the stillness of the room. Another night wasted. Another night consumed by the weight of his own expectations. He turned back to the piano, his eyes heavy with fatigue but burning with a quiet, desperate need. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not without something to show for the hours he’d lost.

With a sigh that felt like surrender, Charles sat back down at the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys once more. He could feel the cold beneath his skin, the way the silence seemed to press in around him. His hands shook, not with nervousness, but with exhaustion.

And then, in the quiet, a single note broke the silence.

It wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t the haunting, ethereal sound he had been searching for. But it was something.

His gaze fell to the pile of sheet music he had scribbled on throughout the night. Inked lines of failed ideas, crossed out again and again. With a final resigned sigh, he stood up, the bench scraping the floor, the sound too loud in the empty space. He began to gather his things, shoving crumpled papers into his bag alongside notebooks, headphones, and his laptop. The familiar weight of them didn’t bring comfort; instead, they felt like reminders of the failure he was starting to carry with him. This was meant to be a hobby but it was haunting his every move.

As he turned to leave, keys jangling in his hand, a soft sound reached his ears—a distant, faint melody. He paused, his hand hovering over the light switch, ears straining to catch it. It was coming from down the hallway, barely perceptible at first, but unmistakable—a piano, its notes drifting through the quiet night like a whisper.

Charles hesitated for a moment, then slipped into the hallway, drawn toward the sound. He moved slowly, the dark corridor seeming endless, the music growing clearer with every step. It was beautiful—achingly so. Each note was delicate yet certain, as though whoever was playing knew exactly what they wanted to say. The melody swirled and climbed, creating something ethereal, something that made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t felt in weeks.

He stopped outside one of the smaller practice rooms, the door slightly ajar, a soft glow of light spilling from within. The music filled the narrow hallway, surrounding him, pulling him in. He stood there for a long moment, his heart beating a little faster, a strange mix of awe and envy twisting inside him. This was what he had been trying to create—the same kind of raw emotion, the beauty that lingered long after the sound faded.

But it wasn’t his.

Charles leaned against the wall, just out of sight, listening as the music flowed through the cracks in the door. The player inside didn’t falter, didn’t stop to wrestle with the notes. It was effortless, pure. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare interrupt, afraid the spell would be broken if the other person realised they had an audience.

The melody soared, and for a brief moment, Charles closed his eyes, letting himself be swept up in it. It reminded him of why he had started this in the first place—of the nights when music had been his refuge, when it had felt like an escape, not a burden. He could feel the heaviness in his chest easing, just slightly, as the music wound its way through the silence.

But as beautiful as it was, it also stung. Whoever was playing had found what he had been searching for all this time—something he had lost.

The music came to a soft, gentle end, the final notes lingering in the air like a breath held too long. Charles stood there for a moment longer, still leaning against the doorframe, waiting for something—he didn’t know what.

When the quiet finally settled again, he stepped away from the door, not daring to break the fragile stillness with the creak of the floorboards. He glanced back one last time, his fingers curling tight around the strap of his bag. For a moment, he considered knocking, stepping inside to see the person who had played with such grace. But something held him back.

Instead, he turned and walked down the hallway, the echo of that haunting melody still playing in his head long after the door to the studio clicked shut behind him.

His following morning came in fragments—a bleary haze of sunlight filtering through half-closed blinds, the distant hum of traffic muffled by the walls of his apartment. Charles stirred, his body sluggish and heavy with the weight of too little sleep. He lay there for a long moment, eyes closed, trying to hold onto the remnants of the dream he couldn’t quite remember. But it wasn’t a dream that lingered in his mind.

It was the melody.

That same haunting, angelic piano from last night, curling through his thoughts like a whisper. He could still hear it—those delicate notes weaving together, the way the melody had seemed so effortless, so perfect. It had been circling his mind from the moment he left the studio. Now, it played softly in the background of his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

Charles groaned, rolling out of bed and dragging himself into the shower. The hot water did little to shake the fatigue that clung to him, nor did it drown out the persistent tune echoing in his head. His mind kept returning to the small, dimly lit room where the mystery pianist had been, to the way her fingers had danced across the keys as though they had always belonged there.

He towel-dried his hair, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror. Dark circles under his eyes, a face hollowed by days of restless nights and creative frustration. He had some sort of media training today—something important. A meeting he couldn’t afford to drift through half-awake. But even as he dressed, pulling on his usual team shirt and straightening the collar, his thoughts were elsewhere.

The city outside was awake, the streets buzzing with life as he made his way through the crisp morning air to the Ferrari HQ. His coffee sat untouched in his hand, the steam rising in lazy spirals, but he barely noticed. The melody from last night played on an endless loop in his head, the memory of it clinging to him like a ghost he couldn’t shake.

The office was a blur of familiar faces, bright smiles, and too much energy for this early in the day. Charles moved through it all, barely fully acknowledging Carlos, the world around him dull and muffled. The media manager was already waiting when he arrived, tapping impatiently on the table as Charles sat down for their first meeting.

But even as they discussed plans, upcoming shoots, and expectations for both his and Carlos’ media presence, Charles wasn’t fully there. He nodded in the right places, offered half-hearted responses, but his mind kept wandering back to that melody. The notes haunted him, pulling his focus away from everything else, as though they held the answer to something he was desperate to grasp.

“Charles, are you listening?” Carlos’ voice snapped him back to the present.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, though his eyes betrayed him. He scribbled something on the notepad in front of him, though the lines didn’t form words—just scattered shapes, like the music notes he couldn’t get out of his head.

The meetings dragged on. Through every discussion, every pitch and presentation, Charles felt the same distraction pulling him away. He couldn’t let it go. The melody. It had stirred something in him—a frustration, yes, but also a strange kind of inspiration. There was something there, something unfinished, and it gnawed at him.

By the time the last meeting ended, Charles felt hollowed out. He hadn’t contributed anything meaningful to the discussions, not really. His mind had been elsewhere the entire day, replaying those fleeting notes over and over again. It was maddening.

He needed to know. Needed to find out who had played it, and why that music—the music he hadn’t written—felt so much like it belonged to him.

Without thinking, Charles pulled out his phone and dialled his producer’s number, pacing back and forth in the hallway outside the conference room as it rang. It was late afternoon now, the sky outside tinged with fading light. He knew he should be focusing on his own work, or on getting back to the studio, but the compulsion to solve this mystery was stronger than his exhaustion.

The line clicked, and his producer’s voice crackled on the other end. “Charles, hey. What’s up?”

Charles leaned against the window, his forehead pressed to the cool glass. “I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice low, edged with impatience. “Last night, around 3 a.m., there was someone in one of the smaller studios, playing piano. Do you know who it was?”

There was a pause on the other end, the faint sound of papers shuffling. “3 a.m.? You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Charles replied, closing his eyes. The melody drifted back into his mind, as clear as if he were still sitting outside the door, listening. “It was… incredible. I couldn’t stop listening. I need to know who it was.”

Another pause, then a small chuckle from his producer. “Ah, that must’ve been the student. Yeah, she’s been coming in late at night to practise. Studies music at the university downtown. Doesn’t perform much, though—mostly keeps to herself.”

Charles’s heart skipped a beat. The name felt unfamiliar, but it already held a weight to it, like it was connected to something he hadn’t yet fully understood.

“She doesn’t perform?” he asked, brow furrowing. It seemed impossible—someone with that much talent, hiding in the shadows.

“Nah,” his producer continued, “she’s a bit under the radar. Not really into publishing or performing her work, but, man, she’s got something special. I didn’t realise you’d heard her.”

Charles was silent for a moment, processing the information. The melody. He could see it now—something just out of reach, like the missing piece of a puzzle he hadn’t realised he was trying to solve.

“You know,” his producer said, his tone shifting slightly, “you’ve been stuck for a while, Charles. Maybe you should try working with her. See what happens. It might help you find what you’re looking for.”

Charles swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. The thought of it—composing with someone else, with her—made something stir inside him. Could it be the answer to breaking through this creative silence he’d been drowning in?

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered, though the decision was already forming in his mind.

As he hung up the phone, the melody returned, softer this time, but still persistent. And now, it wasn’t just haunting him—it was pulling him forward.

_________________

The studio felt different tonight, as though it had shifted in his absence. The air was cooler, the lights dimmer, casting long, quiet shadows over the floorboards. Charles stood in the hallway again, just as he had the night before, but this time his heart beat with something more than exhaustion or frustration. There was an anticipation simmering in his chest, a tension just beneath the surface.

He hadn’t come to compose tonight. Not really. He had come for the music. Her music.

The name felt strange on his lips, unfamiliar, yet full of significance. He didn’t know her, had never spoken to her, but her music had already gotten under his skin. It haunted him still, drifting through his mind in fragments even after the long day of meetings, pulling him back here.

He moved quietly down the hallway, the same path he had taken last night, his shoes barely making a sound against the worn floor. As he neared the smaller practice room, the faint sound of the piano floated toward him, delicate and clear, weaving through the quiet.

There it was again—the same effortless, angelic melody that had captivated him before. But now, listening to it a second time, Charles felt something deeper stirring. The way she played was different tonight, more intimate somehow, as if the music had softened, becoming something even more personal. He stopped outside the door, just as he had before, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

For a long moment, he simply listened. The notes seemed to dance in the air, spinning and intertwining, building toward something both beautiful and fragile. It was mesmerising.

But then, the music stopped. Abruptly.

Charles’s eyes snapped open, his pulse quickening in the sudden silence. Before he could move, a voice broke through the quiet, soft but teasing.

“Mama always said it’s not nice to lurk.”

His breath caught in his throat. For a second, he didn’t move, caught off guard. The door was still ajar, the light spilling into the hallway, and from inside, he could make out the silhouette of someone sitting at the piano, her back turned to him. She hadn’t looked up, but she knew. She had known he was there the whole time.

Heat crept up his neck, but before he could stammer out an apology, she spoke again.

“You coming in, or are you planning to stay out there all night?”

Her tone was light, amused even, but it was an invitation all the same. Charles hesitated for a heartbeat longer, his hand tightening around the strap of his bag. Then, without thinking, he stepped forward, pushing the door open a little wider.

The room was small and softly lit, just as he remembered, the grand piano dominating the space. She sat at it, her posture relaxed, fingers still resting lightly on the keys. She turned her head slightly as he entered, giving him the faintest glimpse of a smile.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, feeling a bit ridiculous for standing outside like that. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t.” She shifted on the bench, making space beside her. “Come on, sit.”

Charles’s throat tightened, but he nodded and moved toward the piano, his steps feeling oddly tentative. He hesitated for a second when he reached her, unsure if he should really be sitting so close. The bench was narrow, and he could already feel the warmth of her presence.

She looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “I don’t bite.”

With a small chuckle, he slid onto the stool beside her, the space between them barely a few inches. It was strange, this closeness—to sit here with someone he didn’t know, yet felt connected to through the music that had haunted him for days. Their shoulders brushed lightly as he settled in, and for a moment, the silence between them felt heavy, loaded with expectation.

She glanced at him, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. Then, without a word, she placed her hands back on the piano, her fingers moving over the keys with an effortless grace. The melody returned, soft and slow, and Charles felt his breath catch in his chest again. It was different this time—gentler, more deliberate, as though she was playing just for him.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with the quiet intimacy of the music. He watched her hands move, the way her fingers danced across the keys with the kind of fluidity that only came from years of dedication. The melody wound its way through the air, filling the small space between them, and Charles found himself leaning in, just slightly, drawn to the sound and to her.

“You play like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

She smiled, a soft, almost secretive smile. “It’s never easy,” she said, her voice low, her eyes still on the piano. “It just looks that way.”

She played a few more notes, then paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “What about you? You’ve been in the studio night after night. What’s haunting you?”

Charles let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. “I’ve been stuck,” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended. “It feels like everything I try to create falls apart. Nothing compares to what I’ve done before.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she played another soft chord, the sound hanging in the air between them.

“Music’s strange like that,” she said after a moment, her tone thoughtful. “It comes and goes. Sometimes it’s easy, other times… it slips through your fingers.”

Charles nodded, feeling the weight of her words. He had been trying so hard to force the music out, to create something that could match his last piece, but all it had done was elude him.

The girl beside him shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing his. “Here,” she said, moving her hands off the keys. “Play something.”

“What?”

“Anything,” she replied, her eyes meeting his for the first time fully. There was a challenge in them, but also an understanding. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Charles swallowed, feeling a sudden surge of nerves. But her gaze was steady, encouraging, and without thinking too much about it, he let his hands find their way to the keys. The notes that came out weren’t perfect—they were hesitant, half-formed. But they were honest. He played softly, the melody faltering at times, but it was real.

She listened, her head slightly tilted as she watched his fingers move. Then, without warning, she joined him, her hands moving gracefully beside his, adding harmonies to the melody he had started. The sound shifted, growing fuller, more complete. The music filled the room, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Charles didn’t feel the weight of his failure pressing down on him.

Together, they played, their hands moving across the keys in tandem, creating something new. Something neither of them could have done alone.

When the last note finally faded into the quiet, Charles sat back, his heart pounding. She turned to him, her eyes soft and knowing.

“See?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s easier when you’re not alone.”

For a moment, they sat in the quiet, the echo of their shared melody lingering in the air like the last breath of a long-forgotten song. Charles stared at the keys, feeling the warmth of the music still buzzing in his fingertips. He hadn’t felt like this in weeks—maybe longer. There was something about the way she played, the way her music had melded so effortlessly with his, that made the creative block he’d been wrestling with seem almost insignificant.

He turned to look at her, realising for the first time how close they were, their shoulders still brushing lightly. Her eyes were fixed on the piano, her fingers resting gently on the keys, as though she was waiting for the next melody to arrive. Her presence, though quiet and composed, carried an intensity that matched the music she played—an unspoken understanding of the way music could consume you, take you apart, and put you back together.

“That was…” Charles began, but the words caught in his throat.

“Different?” she offered, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Yeah.” He let out another breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “It felt… easier. Like it wasn’t something I had to force.”

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze thoughtful. “Music isn’t something you’re supposed to wrestle with. It’s like water—it flows when you stop trying to hold onto it so tightly.” She shifted her hands off the keys and folded them in her lap, her eyes now fully on him. “You’ve been pushing too hard. I could hear it.”

Her words were soft, but they carried something that made Charles pause. He had been pushing—straining against the silence, desperate to capture a piece of the magic he’d once had. Every night in the studio had been a battle, and he hadn’t realised until now that the real fight was with himself.

“You’re right,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying so hard to top what I did last time that I forgot why I was doing it in the first place.”

She leaned back slightly, still watching him, her expression unreadable. “What was your last piece?” she asked, her voice curious but not probing.

Charles hesitated. The memory of his last composition—an orchestral piece that had been his most successful work to date—felt distant now, like it belonged to someone else. It had been raw, emotional, inspired by something deeply personal, but the success that followed had overshadowed the joy he’d felt when he created it. Ever since then, he’d been chasing that same feeling, trying to recreate the magic, only to fall short.

“It was…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “Something personal. It came easily back then. But now it feels like I’m trying to catch lightning in a bottle, and I’m just… stuck.”

She nodded, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the piano’s surface. “I get that. Sometimes the more you want something, the harder it is to find. That’s why I don’t perform much.” She smiled faintly, almost to herself. “There’s less pressure when no one’s watching.”

Charles studied her for a moment, sensing the layers beneath her calm demeanour. She spoke with such ease about the creative process, but there was an edge of vulnerability there too, a reluctance to expose too much of herself to the world.

“Why don’t you perform?” he asked, curious now. “I mean, with the way you play, you could easily—”

“Because I don’t need to,” she interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. “The music is for me. It’s not about the audience. It’s about…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s about connecting with something deeper, something that doesn’t care about applause or recognition.”

Her words hung in the air between them, and Charles found himself nodding slowly, understanding exactly what she meant. In a way, she had found a kind of freedom he had lost along the way.

“That’s why you play at night,” he said, more a statement than a question. “When no one’s around. It’s like…” He trailed off, trying to find the right analogy, “…the world doesn’t exist.”

She smiled at that, a real one this time, her eyes brightening just a little. “Exactly. It’s easier to lose yourself when there’s no one expecting anything from you.”

Charles sat back, processing her words. For so long, he had been weighed down by expectations—his own, his producer’s, the fans—and it had drained him. Maybe that was the problem. He had been writing for others, forgetting that the music had always been something he did for himself first. Something he loved.

She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, breaking his thoughts. “You know,” she said, a playful lilt in her voice, “you could try playing like no one’s watching. Even if they are.”

He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, leaning in just a bit, “you’re too worried about what people think of your music. But here”—she motioned to the piano in front of them—“there’s no audience. Just us. So why not stop thinking so much and just… play?”

Charles blinked, the simplicity of her suggestion hitting him harder than it should have. She made it sound so easy, but maybe that was the point. Maybe it was supposed to be easy.

Before he could respond, she slid her fingers back onto the keys, playing a few soft chords that hummed through the air like the beginning of something new. Then she glanced sideways at him, a small, teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Come on. Share the bench again. Let’s make something together.”

A spark of excitement flared in his chest. Without another word, Charles moved closer, their knees brushing as they both settled into position, fingers poised over the keys. This time, he wasn’t overthinking it. He wasn’t wrestling with the music. He was just… there.

She started first, her melody soft and fluid, and Charles followed, instinctively matching her rhythm, letting their sounds merge and flow together. The music wasn’t perfect—it stuttered at times, shifted unexpectedly—but it was alive. It had a pulse. It breathed with them.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Charles wasn’t haunted by the silence. He wasn’t weighed down by the pressure of creating something great. He was just… playing. Creating. Feeling the music as it moved through him, through them both.

As their hands danced over the keys, weaving together something raw and beautiful, he realised something that felt both terrifying and thrilling: maybe this was what he had been missing. Not perfection. Not even recognition. Just the simple, undeniable joy of creating with someone who understood. Someone who could make the music feel real again.

When the last note faded into the quiet, Charles turned to her, his heart still racing.

“I think,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I need to stop chasing what I’ve already done and start finding something new.”

She nodded, her eyes bright and knowing. “And maybe,” she said, her voice equally quiet, “we can find it together.”

The last note lingered in the air between them, and Charles felt something warm and alive settle in his chest. The music they had made together had been unlike anything he’d played in so long—imperfect, yes, but honest. Real. The creative block that had suffocated him for weeks was finally gone, or at least, it felt that way in this fleeting moment of clarity.

She glanced at him, her smile soft but distant. She seemed different now, as though the music had taken something from her as well. Before Charles could say anything, she pushed herself up from the piano bench, her fingers lingering on the edge of the keys for just a second longer than necessary.

"I've got to go."

Her words were quiet, almost an afterthought, and they hit him with an unexpected force. She didn’t give him time to respond, to ask anything, to even say goodbye. She simply gathered her bag and moved toward the door, her steps quick and purposeful.

“Wait—” Charles started, rising halfway from the bench, but it was too late.

She turned to him for a brief moment, a smile that was part mystery, part something he couldn’t quite read crossing her lips. “Don’t stop playing, tesoro (treasure)” she said softly. “You’re closer than you think.”

And then, before he could find his voice, she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her with an eerie finality.

Charles stood frozen for a few long moments, staring at the door. His mind raced. He didn’t have her number. He didn’t know where she lived, where she studied, or how to reach her. She had slipped away like a melody in the night, as effortlessly as she’d come into his life.

With a sigh, he sank back onto the piano bench, running his hands through his hair. The room felt strangely empty without her, the space they had shared now echoing with the silence she left behind. But something inside him had shifted. The music they’d created still hummed in his veins, and the weight of doubt that had plagued him for so long felt lighter. Almost like it was dissolving, piece by piece.

He placed his hands on the keys, the cool touch of ivory grounding him, and began to play.

At first, the melody was slow, almost tentative. It mirrored the notes they’d played together, but now it began to morph into something new, something entirely his own. As his fingers moved, the music unfolded naturally, effortlessly. It was as though every piece of frustration, every sleepless night, every failed attempt to capture the right sound was now fueling something greater. Something real.

The notes swelled and cascaded, filling the room with a rich, haunting melody that seemed to flow directly from his soul. It was raw, brimming with emotion—a reflection of everything he had felt, everything he had fought against. But now, there was no more fighting. The music came freely, weaving together in ways that felt effortless and inevitable.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Charles wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t chasing perfection or wrestling with expectations. He was simply… playing. The music poured out of him like a long-held breath, each note sharper, more vivid than the last. The emotions he had buried—frustration, longing, even joy—flooded into the sound, and it consumed him.

His hands moved faster now, the melody becoming more urgent, more intense. He didn’t know where it was going, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t about the destination. It was about this—this pure, unfiltered moment of creation.

And then, without warning, a tear slipped down his cheek.

Charles barely noticed it at first, too wrapped up in the music, but soon another tear followed. And another. He wasn’t sobbing—there was no sadness in it. Instead, it was an overwhelming sense of release, of joy, of finally breaking through. The music swelled, the room vibrating with sound, and Charles felt it wash over him. A catharsis he hadn’t known he needed.

When he hit the final chord, it echoed through the room, ringing out long after his fingers had stilled. The silence that followed was profound, heavy with the weight of everything he had just poured into the keys.

Charles sat there, hands trembling slightly, staring at the piano in disbelief. A shaky laugh escaped his throat, followed by a deep, breathless exhale. He had done it. He had finally played something worth keeping.

No—it was more than that. He had played one of the best pieces of his life.

For a long while, he just sat there, his hands resting in his lap, feeling the weight of what he had just created. Tears still clung to his lashes, but his chest felt light—lighter than it had in months. Maybe years.

He wasn’t just crying because of the music. He was crying because, for the first time in a long time, he was truly happy.

Charles leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool wood of the piano, letting the last remnants of tension drain from him. His breath was steady now, calm. The room was bathed in a kind of quiet peace he hadn’t known in so long. He had no idea where the girl had gone, or if he’d ever see her again. But somehow, it didn’t matter.

The music was enough.

What he didn’t know—what he couldn’t have known—was that she hadn’t really left. Not entirely.

Outside the door, hidden in the shadows of the hallway, she stood, her back pressed against the wall. She had stopped as soon as she’d heard the first notes drift through the air, her hand hovering over the door handle but never turning it.

She had listened. Every note, every chord, every emotion Charles had poured into the piano, she had felt it too. Her heart had raced with his, her breath had caught in her throat when she’d heard the moment he broke through the wall he had been fighting against.

She smiled softly to herself, her hand finally dropping to her side as the last note of Charles’s masterpiece echoed through the studio. She had heard something in his playing tonight that she hadn’t expected. Something raw and powerful.

She turned to leave, her steps soft on the floor, leaving the sound of his triumph behind. Maybe she would come back one day, maybe not. But she knew this much—he didn’t need her anymore.

He had found his music again. And that, in itself, was enough.

As she disappeared into the night, Charles remained at the piano, still catching his breath, unaware of the quiet presence that had stayed with him until the very end.

The following days felt surreal, like a dream Charles was reluctant to wake from. After that night in the studio with the girl, his life had been interrupted by a trip to Silverstone to try out the tyres for the new season. The track buzzed with its usual energy, but no matter where he wandered, Charles’s thoughts always drifted back to her and the music they’d played together.

He had left the studio that night haunted by the memory of her delicate touch on the keys, the way their melodies had intertwined as though they’d been waiting for each other all along. He carried it with him over to England, through busy track meets and silent hotel rooms. Late at night, when sleep wouldn’t come, he would close his eyes and hear her music, as if it had lodged itself permanently in his mind.

It wasn’t just the music, though. It was her—the quiet way she had smiled at him, the lightness in her voice when she teased him, the sense of understanding that had passed between them without needing to be spoken.

Now, as Charles stepped back into the familiar silence of the studio late at night right off the plane, he felt a quiet anticipation coiled tightly in his chest. The lights were dim, the air cool and still, and for a moment, it felt like time had paused. The room was empty, and there was no trace of her—no soft melody floating through the air, no sound of delicate fingers dancing across the keys.

Disappointment stirred, settling somewhere deep. He’d been hoping, perhaps foolishly, that she’d be here. That they could pick up where they’d left off. He made his way to the piano, where the polished surface glinted in the low light, as inviting as ever.

And then he saw it—a small note left on the piano bench. His pulse quickened as he unfolded it, her handwriting instantly recognizable, though scrawled in that same casual, hurried way:

"Play with your heart, tesoro."

A soft smile tugged at his lips. The simplicity of the message was so very her. It was a whisper, a reminder of what mattered. A push, gentle but certain.

Charles set the note aside and sat down on the bench, the studio eerily quiet around him. For a moment, he just sat there, the weight of the piano keys beneath his fingers, the faint memory of their music hovering in the air. Then, without thinking too much, he began to play.

The melody started slow, almost hesitant, each note like a thought he hadn’t quite formed yet. But as he played, the music unfolded into something deeper, something more intimate. It wasn’t complicated or grand—it didn’t need to be. It was soft, heartfelt, like a quiet conversation spoken in a language only they understood.

He let go of the pressure, the constant need to craft something perfect, and instead just let the music be what it was—a reflection of what he felt, of what had been buried deep inside him since he’d met her. The music filled the room, curling into the corners like a secret. And for the first time in what felt like months, he felt at peace.

As the last notes lingered in the air, a soft sound broke the quiet. Applause—light, slow, and warm.

Charles turned, startled, and there she was, standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. She was watching him, her hands clasped softly in front of her, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. Her eyes sparkled with something tender, something familiar. She’d been listening, perhaps the whole time.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Charles murmured, his voice softer than the room itself.

She took a few quiet steps toward him, her gaze never leaving his. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” she said gently, her smile deepening. “It was beautiful.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room felt suspended in a kind of stillness, the last remnants of his melody hanging between them, but no words were needed to fill the quiet. She came closer, and Charles shifted slightly on the bench, instinctively making space for her. She sat beside him, their shoulders brushing softly in the small space, the warmth of her presence settling something inside him.

“Play it again,” she whispered, her voice low, like a secret shared just between them.

He hesitated for a second, but then his fingers found their way back to the keys, this time slower, more deliberate. The music that spilled out was softer now, more intimate, as if shaped by the quiet weight of her sitting beside him. She watched as his hands moved, her gaze gentle, and as he played, the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them and the music between them.

After a few moments, her fingers joined his, their hands moving together over the keys with a quiet ease. Her touch was so light, so effortless, and the sound they created was simple yet achingly beautiful—a melody that spoke of longing and connection, of words unspoken but deeply felt. There was no rush, no urgency in the way they played, only a slow unfolding of something real and fragile.

Charles stole a glance at her, his heart tightening. There was something unspoken in the air, something that went beyond the music they shared. He could feel it in the way she leaned in ever so slightly, the way her breath seemed to sync with his, the soft, steady rhythm of their playing.

When the last note faded into the stillness, neither of them moved. They sat there, shoulders barely touching, the silence around them thick with the weight of everything unsaid. Slowly, she turned her head toward him, her eyes soft, her smile quiet but full of meaning.

“You played with your heart,” she whispered, her words echoing the note she had left for him.

Charles’s throat tightened, the room suddenly feeling too small, too full of everything he hadn’t yet said. He turned toward her, his voice catching in his chest as he whispered back, “You make it easier.”

Her smile deepened, and for a moment, there was only the soft rise and fall of their breathing, the music they had created still lingering in the air around them. It felt like something had shifted between them, like a door had been opened that couldn’t easily be closed again.

And as they sat there, side by side on the piano bench, Charles realised that the silence no longer felt heavy. It felt full—of possibility, of something quiet and beautiful, waiting patiently to be discovered.

Together.

Charles’s heart raced, the air between them thick with anticipation. They sat in a charged stillness, so close their breaths seemed to mingle. The soft light of the studio flickered gently against her face, casting shadows that made her seem almost otherworldly. Her lips parted, just slightly, as if waiting for something—an unspoken invitation.

Before he could think too much about it, before doubt could creep in, Charles leaned in.

At first, it was tentative—a brush of lips so light it felt like it might disappear if he wasn’t careful. He kissed her softly, testing the moment, unsure if he was crossing some unseen line. But then she responded, her lips pressing back against his with the same quiet hunger he hadn’t realised was burning between them all along.

The kiss deepened, their soft breaths mingling in the quiet. A slow, intoxicating warmth spread through Charles’s chest, pulling him further in. He cupped her face gently with his hand, his thumb brushing against her cheek as their lips moved together, tentative but growing bolder with each passing second. Her hand found his, her fingers slipping between his, and she pulled him closer, as though the space between them had become unbearable.

Suddenly, the kiss wasn’t soft anymore—it became something more urgent, more passionate, the weight of everything they hadn’t said spilling over into the kiss. Charles felt his pulse quicken, his mind lost in the warmth and closeness of her. He slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her in deeper, their lips moving together in a rhythm that felt as natural as the music they had created moments ago.

She shifted slightly on the bench, her body pressing closer to his, and the heat between them grew. The world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them in the dim, quiet studio, the echoes of their kiss the only sound. The softness of her touch, the taste of her lips—it was all intoxicating, a crescendo building within him.

Charles could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he didn’t want it to stop. He could have stayed in that moment forever, lost in the intensity of her kiss, in the way her hands tangled in his hair, in the way she fit so perfectly against him.

But then, as though sensing they were both on the edge of something overwhelming, Charles pulled back just slightly, his lips still lingering close to hers, their breaths mingling in the stillness. They were both breathing harder, and for a moment, neither spoke.

Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with his, wide and full of something unspoken. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and Charles had to fight the urge to pull her back into another kiss.

“Tesoro” she whispered, her voice soft and a little breathless, as though she couldn’t quite find the words.

He smiled gently, his thumb brushing over her lips before he let his hand fall away, resting on the piano between them. His heart still raced, but there was something peaceful now, something right. He hadn’t felt this in so long—this connection, this ease.

“I need to thank you, angioletto ” Charles murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.

“For what?” she asked, her eyes searching his, a quiet vulnerability in her gaze.

“For inspiring this,” he said, his words soft but heavy with meaning. “For inspiring me.” He gestured toward the piano, where the notes of their shared music still seemed to hover in the air between them. “That song we played together… I never would have found it without you.”

Her lips parted, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes shimmered with something deeper, something that mirrored what Charles was feeling.

“You’ve helped me more than you know,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before you, I was stuck. I couldn’t write, couldn’t feel the music anymore. But playing with you—it’s like something clicked. You brought it back.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her smile growing, but there was a quiet tenderness in her expression, as if she understood all the things he wasn’t saying. Slowly, she leaned in, resting her forehead gently against his, and they stayed like that, breathing each other in, the world softening around them.

“I’m glad I could help,” she whispered, her voice a soft caress against his skin.

Charles closed his eyes, letting the moment settle between them, the weight of her words sinking in. He had been searching for something—chasing it endlessly, driving himself to exhaustion in its pursuit. But sitting here, with her, with the music they had created still vibrating in the air, he realised he had already found it.

It wasn’t just the music. It was her. She had become his muse in more ways than one.

He pulled back slightly to meet her gaze once more, his eyes searching hers for a long moment. And then, without another word, he kissed her again—slowly, tenderly this time. It was a kiss filled not with urgency, but with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken but undeniable.

And in that kiss, Charles knew he wasn’t just thanking her for the music. He was thanking her for being the spark that had reignited something inside him, for being the light in a place that had felt dark for so long.

When their lips finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers once more, the two of them still breathing each other in, their hearts in sync. The studio was quiet now, but it wasn’t empty. The music they had shared—the connection they had formed—lingered in the air like a promise.

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Charles felt whole.

send me a message if you want to be on my perm tag list <3

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #original character #formula one x reader #ferrari formula one #ferrari formula 1 #ferrari #charles leclerc #logan sargeant #williams racing #carlos sainz #teacher au

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daisyblog · 7 months ago

Text

Zane Lowe

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is mentioned in Harry’s interview with Zane Lowe.

Based on this request.

“Nice nails” Zane compliments Harry who’s sitting in the seat opposite.

“Thanks” Harry politely replies as he glances down at his turquoise nails sitting on his lap. “Thanks for having me”.

After discussing Pleasing and he loved the idea of It, Zane asked “What made you want to do that?”.

“I think for me like…a big part of it is…like I really like making stuff and I really like..kind of coming up with ideas and collaborating with other…especially YN who again is very creative…I feel like I’m really lucky with people around me both personally and professionally that I get to work with are really fun to work with and…you know working’s like my favourite thing to do so..based on the fact that I think obviously it begins as a hobby so then like getting to make stuff for work I feel like is a real gift. I think if I didn’t think about it too much I would be making music and putting out music constantly…but I’m also aware that I’m a total control freak and I want everything to be perfect..so the idea of like oh I made these four songs I’m just going to put out an EP…It’s just not how I think of it”.

---

“You're faced with a time when you can’t do that…and the great leveller of like it doesn’t matter how much money you have, doesn’t matter where you live, doesn’t matter this doesn’t matter that…you can’t travel you can’t do this, you can’t go outside your house..It’s like suddenly you’re forced to not be this musician guy, you’re forced to be like a boyfriend, brother and a son…and all of those things..and actually I feel like I..you know kind of had a little bit of a chance to focus on that at least for a moment..umm and just stop and kind of take in a lot of stuff and…remember things, you’re kind of gifted this stolen time” Harry explained his view on the world pandemic.

“You mentioned being all these roles…you mentioned being a boyfriend, what was it like during these times?” Zane quizzed. “Because I imagine you got a taste of what it’s like being a “normal” couple”.

Twisting and playing with his rings on his fingers, Harry explains “Umm…YN has always been my comfort you know and I’d like to think I’m hers too…she’s been a big part of my life and…we’ve been through so much tougher…that it was kind of nice to just stop and take that in.” Zane nodded, an indication for Harry to continue “So when the pandemic hit..we isolated in LA for a while..I saw it as a time for us to be just us…but YN did find it hard because she has such a big family…and umm she just wanted to be closer to them…especially her grandparents and siblings”.

“Yeah I can imagine that being hard..being so far away” Zane sympathised “I don’t mean to pry into your personal life but what do you mean by time for just you two?”

“Like..we’ve never known anything other than travelling..or just being surrounded by other people and just having to plan everything in so much detail..to like not be seen you know…so we kind of got to see what a normal like would be like, whatever a normal life is..if that makes sense?”.

“Yeah it makes total sense”. Zane agreed and could see that Harry craved a little normality in his personal life.

“I suppose..I’m just like really lucky..because YN just gets it. She got put into the limelight the same as us..you know..so yeah she just gets it and I’m just so lucky” Harry continued with a slight giggle as he repeated how lucky he was. “I think what I’m trying to say is…I hit gold when it came to YN…she really is my best friend too and yeah…it was nice to be just a couple without the added pressures.”.

---

“We have to acknowledge this because..you know we at one point we were going to this in the United Kingdom”. Harry nodded in agreement “But there’s something wonderful about being in this afterglow of Palm Springs..which is I'm sure is how you feel a little bit after these two amazing headline shows…you seem so chilled you know” Zane laughed but continue “There must have been a relief that you did it?”.

“I just..you know I knew I was going to put something out…whether it’s a show or an album or a song I want it to be perfect..and umm…I think like that’s why I take so much stress on I think around something like Coachella..cause I feel like I want it to be good..like if it’s not going to be good I’d rather not do it..so you know in that kind of setting, no matter what it is kind of…you know the dust or the wind or however many things, it's like so many things can go wrong in that situation..and it's not your show and it's my first festival so…you know I’m kind of going out to the crowd and I like knowing what I’m stepping out to” Harry rambled with a nervous chuckle at the end.

Harry continued “and that was really terrifying”.

“What was your instinct when they asked you to do it?” Zane interrupted.

“That’s too scary and I’m gonna say no” Harry laughed “But..uh YN was like you need to say yes and was just so encouraging and supportive..you know…plus she’s like my biggest fan so of course she wanted me to do it!”.

“So..would you say YN helps with the nerves?” Zane asked curiously.

“I was so nervous..like so nervous..and I remember YN being on facetime to Louis before the show..and them both saying just to be myself and to enjoy…and when I was out there I just focused on being me and nothing else”. Harry spoke freely. “Their advice definitely helped…’cause I had the best time!”.

“Late Night Talking?” Zane stated.

Harry let out a shy chuckle “Uhh…yeah” Harry leans his head on his hand to try and hide is cheeky smile “It’s about YN…well I don’t think it’s a shock to anyone”.

“So…would you say the whole album is about YN?” Zane asked confidently.

“Uhh..most of it..yeah pretty much” Harry smiled “She’s just been a constant in my life..since like we were what..sixteen or seventeen..you know..she’s my life..and I don’t have to pretend to be anyone other than myself around her you know…it’s just easy and I love that about our relationship.” Harry explained.

---

“Matilda really shows emotional intelligence and how you were thinking about someone at that time.”. Zane begins to talk about the middle song on Harry’s album.

“Uh…yeah…I actually didn’t write Matilda”. Harry revealed, causing Zane to looked shocked. “YN had this conversation with someone…and she was getting to know them…and they opened up to her and she was like that’s not normal…so she was almost like writing down what she wanted to say to them…and I was like how many people could relate to this you know…and we agreed that it would make a beautiful song for those who needed to hear it”.

“Waw! It holds a real powerful message and I think even if people don’t feel those things…I think it definitely makes them feel something.”. Zane spoke with passion in his voice.

“It definitely does….and it was just about saying I was listening….that was YN’s purpose to it”.

---

“Boyfriends” Zane began “It is a great song..It’s from a male perspective, it’s a very knowing song..and It’s a very self-aware song..you have to have some self-awareness to write from that perspective surely”.

Harry answered immediately “Yeah for sure…Boyfriends was written right at the end of Fine Line” Harry explained “Boyfriends is about like…we’re all flawed you know..and I think pretending like we’re not, I just don’t get it..It’s acknowledging my own behaviour, it’s looking at the behaviour I’ve witnessed..I grew up with a sister so it’s like watching her date people and watching friends…but at the same time admitting I’ve not been a perfect boyfriend either”.

---

“Love of My Life..I’d always wanted to write a song about like home and loving England…and all of that kind of stuff..and it’s kind of hard to do that you know”

“So Love of Love My Life is about home and England?” Zane asked with a slight smirk on his face.

“As I started making them album…I realised it wasn’t about the kind of geographical location…it was more of an internal thing” Harry tried to hide his bashful smile by rubbing his finger under his nose.

“Do I see Harry Styles blushing?” Zane began to tease Harry.

Harry lets out a loud chuckle and tries to hide his face in his hands “You know..I’ll admit that I blush sometimes…especially when it comes to YN!”.

Tag List:

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fireflyinks · 3 months ago

Note

ooc ep with mandy hamzah and martin then hamzah introduces u as his gf 👀👀 twitter insta tiktok etc is going crazyyyy abt it too

girlfriend reveal (hamzah edition)

hamzah x reader

a/n : not sure if i love or hate this but here it is!! sorry i haven’t been as active I SWEAR im trying to get to your requests!! this was such a good idea and lmk if you want me to write a version but with y/n being a content creator as well. much love!

contains : a little fluff, slight cursing (literally just bs), cuteness, hard launching

I rocked back and fourth on my heels, standing directly beside the camera’s view. Anticipation and nervousness swirled in my stomach.

It probably wasn’t as big of a deal as I was making it, I knew that, but my nerves were still going buck-wild.

After three months of dating, Hamzah was introducing me as his girlfriend on the podcast today. We both wanted to wait until it was the right time, and we had finally decided that it was now or never.

YouTube was a ginormous part of Hamzah’s life, so the thought of his fans not approving of me was a big fear of mine. He’d assured me that they would love me, but I knew that he couldn’t be sure of that fact.

After about three minutes of rambling on about something pointless, Hamzah finally cleared him throat.

“We also have a special guest this episode. Please welcome, my beautiful girlfriend, y/n.”

I walked into frame, sitting beside Hamzah on the already crowded couch. Mandy and Martin clapped at my entrance, and I giggled nervously. This was a weird feeling for me, since I normally wasn’t this shy.

Hamzah handed me a mic he had bought specially for this episode, since normally they only had three people on at a time and didn’t own a fourth mic. He also put an arm around me, which helped calm my nerves a small bit. Hamzah’s touch could almost always make me feel better. I guess it was a good thing then that I was basically sitting on his lap due to limited space on the yellow couch.

“Hello,” I spoke into the microphone, smiling sheepishly.

“Introduce yourself.” Hamzah encouraged. He was taken aback by my shy demeanor as well.

“I’m y/n, Hamzah’s girlfriend…” I racked my brain for other facts about myself, but nothing came to mind.

Mandy chimed in, “We finally managed to get Hamzah a girlfriend guys, this is a rare sighting.”

I laughed along with Mandy and Martin, and Hamzah just rolled his eyes.

“You did not manage anything, I got her myself.”

“Bullshit, I’m the one who introduced you two.”

It was true, Mandy and I had worked together for about a year now and she was constantly telling me about how I needed to meet Hamzah, how well we would get along. Finally, she planned a night for us all to hang out, and we just kind of clicked.

“Yeah, Mandy is actually a really good match maker.” I nodded.

Mandy shrugged, “You are both socially awkward so I thought you’d be perfect for one another. And I was right, of course.”

Some time went on, and my nerves slowly started to dissolve. After about an hour, we finished filming, and Hamzah drove me home.

“So…” he began, looking out at the road as he drove, “how’d you feel about that?”

I shrugged, “I was really nervous at first but I think it turned out okay.”

Hamzah placed his hand on my thigh, “I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Everyone will love you.”

—

Hamzah posted the video the next day, and I couldn’t get myself to read the comments or open any social media until I got home from work, five hours later.

I sighed, sitting down on my couch and fumbling with my phone, opening YouTube and pressing on the new episode, entitled “Girlfriend Reveal (Hamzah Edition)”, which happened to the first video on my feed. The intro music began to play.

There were already 500 comments.

awww they’re literally perfect for eachother ❤️

where is the Hamzah to my Y/n

the way hamzah looks at her…

I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I read the kind comments.

I commented a quick heart on the video before moving on to TikTok. My feed was already mostly slushy noobz clips, so I wasn’t surprised when I was the first thing I saw after opening the app.

It was the clip of Hamzah introducing me as I tried to fit next to them on the small couch, with “Margeret” by Lana Del Rey playing in the background softly. The comments were just as positive as the ones on YouTube.

OMG?

wait she’s like genuinely so pretty

they’re so socially awkward together, it’s perfect

Last but not least was Twitter, which scared me the most. I knew that if anyone would have a problem with me, they would most likely express it on Twitter.

I opened the app, and went to search, to be met with “Hamzah’s New Girlfriend” trending. This was either a very good thing or an extremely bad thing.

I clicked on it, and began reading some of the tweets under the hashtag.

hamzah’s new girlfriend is literally so gorgeous, im actually obsessed with the two of them together

hamzah’s new girlfriend genuinely seems so sweet, my heartttt 🥹🥹🥹

“thank you mandy”, we say in unison, hamzah and his new gf are literally PERFECT

Suddenly, there was a quick knock at the door. I got up to answer, wondering who it was. Hamzah was filming a video with Martin and Mandy had told me earlier that she was getting her nails done after our shift.

I opened the door, being met with a bouquet full of colorful assorted flowers. My heart felt as if it could burst. I picked them up, grabbing the paper tag on them to read it.

I knew they would love you - Hamzah

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

#i love hamzah sm #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah #martin and hamzah #slushy noobz #fluff #hamzah x reader #hard launch #fanfiction

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idkfitememate · 10 months ago

Note

Can I send an idea about otter reader singing and acting with Furina in a performance or even a musical like based on Otter reader. I don't know a musical parody of Cats the musical called Otters the musical.

No because that’s really cute hold on-

I’m not gonna write a full story (can’t come up with shit for this I’m so sorry) but the idea is so cute I at least have to talk about it ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

Otter!Creator in a little directors chair with the hat and the scarf with a megaphone screaming every time the character that plays them. Like Squidward & Squiliam from that one Ep-

“Who put you on the planet UGH-“

Whenever their character fucks up a note Otter!Creator gets up on stage and hits is perfectly and Furina (who’s the Co-Director because of course she is) is there like “Holy- that’s my darling right there!-“

All the special effects gotta embellish the shit outta this. No good story is a story without a tiny bit of lying!

Yeah them controlling the Primordial Sea is going right in there. No hesitation. The stars in the eyes is getting its own song.

There’s a commercial for The Otter Pack™️.

It’s actually insane how much care you put into the show though. Everyone’s outfits are gorgeous and the makeup is on point. Everyone’s voices ring clear and all of that. You put much care into making sure that everyone was represented correctly and it brings a tear to their eyes. Especially Clorinde’s because you two didn’t and still haven’t hung out at all. She gets her own theme, and a solo piece.

This Opera is long man. People better get ready to not feel their butts after this. There’s gonna be AT LEAST two intermissions-

Hey, why are there Boar, Tiger, Fox, and… Geo Primovishap themed characters?-

…There’s a small part of the play that vaguely references a word beyond theirs, with no visions and no magic or monsters. A simple realm where seven friends lived together, wishing for more in their lives… and that perhaps not every wish needs to be granted… sometimes it might be better to stay home…

… This is how you reveal you are the true Creator. After the play, you reveal that not all the embellishments were truly embellishments, and show your powers. Golden rays fly through the room as water flows delicately around you. Hidden patters and swirls make themselves apparent across your fur, lighting in the same gold that flows through your veins.

… And then you pelt a hiding Arlecchino with a water ball-

Lmao Arlecchino going back to Snezhnaya and telling the Tsarista about Otter!Creator and having to explain how she knows this.

“They… directed an opera and… hit me in the face… with a water ball…

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHDBFJROWPANWHEUDNWGQKWIDUCH-“ - Dottore & Childe

I’d be laughing to ngl ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Otter!Creator #asks <3 #anon <3

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physical-manifestation-of-spite · 4 months ago

Note

so I have a malevolent theory that I'm kind of... simultaneously "I've connected the dots" and "you haven't connected shit" about?? no idea if I'm onto something here but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it

I think John met Faroe in the dark world. I don't have like... substantial supporting evidence here, but there are a couple quotes I'd like to present

26, The Bedrock: "I deserve… I deserve to die." "No, you don't. Faroe wouldn't want that." "You don't know that." "I do."

27, The Roots: "my family isn't waiting for me" "you're so sure" "of course. you're not?" "I guess I hope otherwise

36, The Faith: they find the photo in daniel's house and John instantly recognizes it as faroe, then backtracks to say he assumes it's faroe

and an honourable mention for 31, The Nightmare, because there's enough foreshadowing in that ep that i feel it's worth bringing up: Kellen's "I hope you find your little girl"

so, again, this may be nothing! honestly i kind of hope it's nothing, especially after hearing more about john's time in the dark world, because I don't think John meeting faroe would likely be under good circumstances and even aside from that... the divorce arc of arthur finding out would be brutal. but... yeah. thoughts?

I love this theory! I thought of this as well back when John recognized Faroe's picture in Daniel's house, but I remember mentioning it in the Discord a while back and someone reminded me that Arthur identified what Faroe looks like with the music box he gets from the Trader in the Dreamlands. However, I still think it's a terrifyingly plausible theory! We could argue that John's, "Faroe wouldn't want that," is just John's speculation on what Faroe feels, but how much more MESSED UP would it be for John to have actually met Faroe in the Dark World? And it could serve as fuel as to why John is so ashamed to tell Arthur about his time in the Dark World. Did he hurt Faroe? Lash out at her? I know that would end their friendship in an instant. I have no doubts. It would obliterate it. So part of me hopes that it's just a theory and won't actually be true.

But another part of me finds it incredibly juicy.

#thank you for the theory dump!#i love these kinds of anons #go off king (gender neutral)#malevolent #spiteful answers

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gatzbright · 1 year ago

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dream & george; falling in love

Dream: 'Have either of you talked about liking each other in the past?' George: *Scoffs* Dream: ... Well— George: *Giggles* Dream: Well, none of the answers fit. But I'd say, like, we've talked about 'whether' ... George: The weather? Dream: Yeah.

Dream: The realisation that, once again, I met someone that's not going to be my friend, but something more. They were never meant to be my friend in the first place. I can't avoid it. If I'm going to fall in love, I'm going to fall in love. So this song is a cry to please be gentle, please don't make me even more paranoid.

Dream: I want that part of my life to be private, you know? Regardless of who that person is ... Once the cameras are off, once we're not doing anything, it's our time. It's me and you. There's no one else. No one else exists in the world, regardless of the fact that there's thirty-million people that are looming over.

Dream: Because I'm famous and because I have all this attention on me—when I'm in my normal life it's like, I want to put the people in my life in the spotlight and make sure they feel that way. But then there's lyrics like 'the celebrity in my bed' and 'close the curtains now you're all mine' ... It's about, you know, that special someone in your life, and how in my mind, because I feel so special, I want them to feel that same specialness. So, yeah, it's about relationships and how I want that person to feel special like I do.

dream @/dreamwastaken: .@/GeorgeNotFound you've had such a big impact on my life I don't even know where to start. helping me code my videos sometimes, helping with random ideas within videos, encouraging me and always being the light in the room to make things even just a little bit brighter. you took a chance on me out of university, making thumbnails and coding for scraps because we wanted to make it big and I’m proud to say that we did it and I’ll have an appreciation for you for the rest of my life because of your friendship, kindness, and love you’ve shown me. love you man. idc if you’re never serious or if we joke around a lot, you have a place in my heart and I’m looking forward to finally meeting you and taking our next step in content creation and friendship. LOVE U

Dream: 'Spotlight' is a song I wrote about making that special someone in my life feel as special as they truly are ... I want to be there to support them through the ups and downs, and make them feel like they have a million fans screaming cheering them on, even if it's just my voice echoing a million times. They are the most important person in the world and the only one in that spotlight of love and admiration, and I want them to know that.

a lot of my future is your future

Head Over Heels / Broken, Tears for Fears | Dream and George retake 'Am I In Love With My Bestfriend' Quiz, DNF Discord Podcast | Head Over Heels / Broken, Tears for Fears | Dream Team House Cooking Stream, Awesamdude VOD | The Diaries of Franz Kafka, Franz Kafka | Paranoid, Dream | to whoever wants to hear – lyric booklet, Dream | Franz Kafka Letter, Franz Kafka | Red Doc>, Anne Carson | Photograph of Dream and George during the Foodbeast's Panel at Twitchcon San Diego, @/itsjusttai_ | Dream Team Christmas – Baking Cookies, Sapnap VOD | Paranoid, Dream | Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince, Taylor Swift | Dream's Snapchats of George, @/dream | Paris, Taylor Swift | Dream breaks down his new EP track by track, Associated Press | long story short, Taylor Swift | Dream and George on set: Everest – Dream & Yung Gravy BEHIND THE SCENES, Dream Music | Dream breaks down his new EP track by track, Associated Press | Spotlight, Dream | Technoblade Charity Stream George's POV, GeorgeNotFound VOD | Dream and George during Foodbeast's Kitchen League Battle Royale at Twitchcon San Diego, Twitch VOD | October Passed Me By, girl in red | Waiting for a Star to Fall, Boy Meets Girl | Dream Team Christmas – Gingerbread Houses, GeorgeNotFound VOD | dream Tweet, @/dreamwastaken | Dream Team Christmas – Baking Cookies, Sapnap VOD | "George napping and the sun is literally beaming him square in the face" – Photograph and Tweet, @/dreamwastaken | Paranoid, Dream | Dream and George on set: Everest – Dream & Yung Gravy BEHIND THE SCENES, Dream Music | to whoever wants to hear – lyric booklet, Dream | Dream Team House Cooking Stream, Awesamdude VOD | SOMEONE MADE A DISSTRACK ABOUT ME???, GeorgeNotFound VOD | Paranoid, Dream |

#whew !!!!! WHO ELSE IS FEELING CRAZY #memememmeememem #constant state of delirium and just utter hysteria like. dream wrote love songs about his george his boy his soulmate his best friendhis lo #both of whom we've been shipping n writing n reading fics n creating fanart for YEARS bc we could see it and. now its kinda beenhardlaunche #romance is not dead if u keep it just yours !!!!!!!!!!!!!#IM SO HAPPY FOR MY BABIES MY DNFIES ohmygod likeisferejrghrgeuoegrh #this took hours btw its now 9am and i had 1hour sleep ijust. don't know anymore this is dnfs fault #poured my blood sweat n tears into this load of crazy TRUTH. time to write dnf fic now o7 #compilations #web weaving #dnf #my dnfies #dreamnotfound #dreamie #georgie #love #timeless #tin can #my webs

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slavghoul · 2 years ago

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Interview from Upset Magazine 6/2023

Words: Steven Loftin

Like an apparition manifesting within a dense fog, it was through radio static that Swedish rockers Ghost were formed. In the kindergarten he attended as a young boy, Tobias Forge found himself enamoured with the music crackling through the little toy speakers. From this point forward, he began picking apart the notes and melodies - his journey toward the lore and canon coming into focus as he sat, trying to figure out how this black magic could be summoned.

While it would be many years before he would don his garb as Papa Emeritus, the essence of what his future would sound like was being set through his exposure to a wide variety of music. If any proof were needed, just look to the impressive list of covers Ghost have put their ghastly mark upon, including 2016's 'Popestar' EP, which included the band's takes on Echo & The Bunnymen ('Nocturnal Me') and Simian Mobile Disco ('I Believe').

Ghost's latest EP is another covers bonanza. A five-piece offering of Tobias's backstory, 'Phantomime' plays out like a Greatest Hits radio playlist - a fitting throwback to Tobias' first dalliances with music. Of course, when a group more aligned to the metal/hard rock community bust out covers, including Genesis and Tina Turner, eyebrows are raised. To this reaction, Tobias scoffs. "In 1991, Genesis was one of the biggest bands on the planet! That was a huge hit. In the mid-80s, when I had an older teenage brother who rented every VHS movie that came out, of course, we saw the fucking Thunderdome, and that was a huge hit, and it's still being played on Swedish radio. It's an evergreen; it's not an eclectic choice at all," he declares. "I grew up listening to Stranglers because my brother liked them. What else do we have, Iron Maiden - I mean, are you kidding? I'm a metalhead!"

Originally conceived during the sessions for their fifth album, last year's 'Impera', there were two folders on his computer's desktop: one named 'Impera', the other simply 'Covers'. As the ideas for 'Impera' grew, Tobias would enter his usual routine of working on a cover or two. "At any point, when you lose a little wind in writing your own things, it's quite nice to say, 'Today let's go in and work on the covers'; you can choose anything you want, you can work on absolutely anything you want. And you don't have to finish it, you don't have to release it, you don't have to do anything, but just continue working."

He likens it to the freedom of being a theatre owner who, instead of trying to pen the next greatest Broadway phenomenon, opts to have a go at something already timeless and perfected.

"Maybe you're like, 'Okay, so this fall we're just going to do a reinterpretation of Hamlet instead, that's going to be fine, and that keeps everyone working, and that keeps a project moving along! And I find a similar thing with working on covers. So as I was writing "Impera', the covers folder was also growing exponentially and at a point. I had this idea that was going to be a full-length album."

With COVID restrictions meaning the original producer for 'Impera' was stuck in the US, Tobias had to source a replacement. It would be Klas Åhlund who stepped up to the plate. But, on one condition. "He was pretty upfront. He was like. Yeah, I only want to make the record; I don't want to work on covers," Tobias remembers "Fine, fine, fine, that's fine." he shrugs. "So, after the 'Impera' recording was done, I felt as if making a completely different, whole record again: I didn't have time for that. I didn't have the energy for that. But once I trimmed down the number of songs to only these five to make a very rocky record, it loosened up the screws a little bit for me in terms of like, "Okay, so now I know what the EP is going to be - it's going to be a full, full-throttle rock one."

Ditching some rumoured softer covers, including U2, Misfits, and Motörhead. 'Phantomime is instead a delectable slice of Ghost doing what Ghost do best: creating theatrically big rock. It's Tobias's mark upon some bonafide classics, including Iron Maiden's 'Phantom of the Opera' which feels as befitting to Ghost as it does seeing Papa Emeritus kick the bucket ready for his next iteration. While the focus was on creating this small dose of Tobias's musical DNA, it also served another purpose; to simply be "not very complicated." The project began with the mindset of "we can make this recording loosely - quick but stress-free - as opposed to making a record which is your hard fifth record that needs to live up to certain standards. So it was just a very inspired, very simple recording, actually."

After the complexities of 'Impera' which wound up requiring two studios simultaneously running in parallel "to be able to work efficiently" - Ghost was morphing into a taxing experience for the band leader, "It was just a bigger thing [and] way more stressful."

Deciding to strip that covers folder down to the five tracks, by all accounts, 'Phantomime was a measured and reserved effort. "It ended up being me, an engineer, and an occasional musician coming in and doing something. It was so much looser, so much more mentally Feng Shui," he smiles, relief glowing in his voice. "And I think that that reflected a little bit on the two different records. They're meant to be related - they are definitely related - they were made roughly in the same time, but they're completely different things."

'Phantomime' plays out like a ghoulish social commentary. Starting with a searing rendition of Televison's 'See No Evil, the journey traverses the scourge of Televangelism (Genesis' Jesus He Knows Me') with a delightfully-fitting NSFW video, the instant gratification humans require to feel (The Stranglers' Hanging Around"); the pull back into cruel reality (Phantom Of The Opera"), and the resulting undying hope from a degraded society (Tina Turner's 'We Don't Need Another Hero"). Each offering is bolstered with Ghost's dramatic, theatric rock licks and Tobias's powerhouse vocals.

With 'Phantomime' in the bag and the European leg of the 'Impera' tour imminent (Tobias is currently holed up in preparation), the idea of reflecting on how he came to go from a young boy listening to the static sounds of pop hits on the radio to orchestrating not only a feverishly adored band and its lore but finding the capacity to embrace his inner music nerd, couldn't be more timely. Tobias's relationship with music has always been one of intrigue. He's a pop songwriter with the ambition and ideas of a stadium rock band, which, in essence, explains perfectly why Ghost can sit in a unique, exponentially growing and expanding space.

"My earliest inclination of wanting to transform into something else was definitely Twisted Sister," he recalls. "You know, "I Want To Rock' and 'We're Not Going To Take It' - that was a huge record in 1984, and in 1984, I was three years old," he says. "My brother was 16, so everything that was going on pop-culturally amongst teenagers was happening in my home."

It was thanks to his brother that much of Tobias's relationship with music was formed. He's introduced him to various giants of the time, like tectonic plates being pushed around, impacting and shaping his musical landscape. Translating for young Tobias the attitude of punk at the time, as well as everything else that was 'in', he remembers, "When I was a kid, and he was supposed to babysit me, as a pacifier he would put me in front of [Sex Pistols mockumentary film] 'The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle"," he laughs. "And then when that was over, he would just switch to [X-rated cartoon] Fritz the Cat. And I loved that stuff, of course. That was as much [about] the expression and the attitude. Of course, I loved the songs, but it was also filtered or combined with big songs for me." Those big songs ("Men At Work 'Down Under'," he initially cites, "those sort of songs still have a unique place in my in my writing") would eventually entwine with his darker side that he'd explore as he grew older. "Whilst my whole adolescence was completely in the name of extreme metal, I always had a very soft spot for Top 40 rock and pop radio always," Tobias explains. "And I've listened to that all my life. So it's almost equal portions of Venom as it is anything. that was on the radio."

Also, witnessing shock and glam-rock bands explode intrigued Tobias. He became swept away in the idea that not only could you push a boundary to its absolute limits with convictions and over-the-top grandiosity, but you could do so with songs that quantifiably bop. But, as time has gone onto prove, it wasn't pop music that enamoured Tobias enough that he wanted to become a pop star. It's the mythology and mystery that has become his calling card.

Tobias remained an enigma under the disguise of an evolving form of the iconic Papa Emeritus (now in his fourth incarnation) until 2017, after a lawsuit from a previous iteration of his backing band's rotating cast, the Nameless Ghouls. Visual and video components to releases are often hoovered up by the fandom, stripped apart for meaning and potential. Instagram posts are referred to as a '[Message From The Clergy]" (a phrase later claimed for 2022's Best Of playlist), and lest it is forgotten, the Ghost 'Grucifix' - the prominent crucifix deconstructed into Tobias's gothic 'G' logo - which ties together the vision, religious imagery and satire that would become a core part of the Ghost experience.

His musical ambition and education colliding in the middle of his Venn diagram between dark metal and pop magic is thanks to the likes of the aforementioned Twisted Sister and W.A.S.P., as well as his teen years in the black metal community. "Their first record was also a huge impact in Swedish media," Tobias remembers. "There was this big sort of Satanic panic thing going on at the time in the fall of 1984. Where you had essentially all those things happening. You had Mötley Crüe 'Shout At The Devil', which came out a year earlier, and they were there because they toured with Iron Maiden in 1984, so there was a lot of focus on these shock-rock bands. I saw that as a kid, and I was immediately blown away - it was the coolest thing I've ever seen. And I think that that was the trigger that made me identify as that is how I want to express myself."

Decoding the songs he'd hear also became an integral part of that expression. "That was the only thing I did for years before I started writing my own songs." Recalling his time in kindergarten, they had a piano and guitar, which Tobias became infatuated with. Instead of playing with the other children, he would find himself enraptured, listening to the radio or flipping over whichever cassette happened to be loaded at the time. He would then imitate the sounds he was soaking up. "A lot of those early beginnings of how to learn and how I've learned how to understand music filters through everything I do now," he explains.

The early records he'd find himself trying to unpack included KISS 'Alive' and Pink Floyd's 'Piper At The Gates Of Dawn' - disparate matches, but undoubtedly Ghost fuel with hard rock melodies and psychedelic tendencies. "I had the first and the second Pink Floyd on a double LP that was called 'A Nice Pair'. And that's the shit that I sat and listened to and played guitar to," he says proudly. "That's weird music, that's really weird chord sequences and melodies that sort of went nowhere. And, that coloured me a lot in my vision of this is how you write a pop song. Of course, I knew more conventional writing as well. But I figured that this resonates with me, and I want to write more like that."

Tobias is the first to admit that the influence his musical exposure has had on him isn't the most straightforward. "For all the years that I was in bands, up until Ghost, basically when I was in bands not doing well, I got a lot of, I wouldn't say stick, but it was always like, 'You write weird songs, there's something weird about them, and it will never really become anything because it has that sort of weirdness to it".

As he grew, the songs he'd heard reflected this inherent strangeness he'd constructed. Before the days of mass formulaic pop factories, the music emanating from the radio abided by the strictest rule of needing to at least be approachable, but within these confines, artists of the 70s and 80s would push the envelope as far as they could. Citing Nik Kershaw's 'The Riddle' as one example, "Holy shit, if you would have taken that song and taken it to a chord structure masterclass amongst pop writers now who want to write songs for Miley Cyrus or The Weeknd or any of that sort of level they would say, no, no, no, no, that this will never work. It's too strange. It's too weird. You can't do that; it doesn't have the normal chord progression.

"There are a lot of songs from the 80s that are like that," he reckons, "compared to the now, more informative way of writing, the 80s was braver actually, and it worked well. And those songs are evergreens in a way that a lot of the top radio shit from seven years ago is forgotten, and that's the stuff that I grew up with when I started playing the guitar."

Having made that inner sanctum, he would enter kindergarten a reality, one where he can explore those recesses of his mind shaken by the musical earthquakes he experienced; now, he's matured and deeply entrenched in the reality. "Throughout the modern day of pop writing, I know a few professional pop songwriters, and we continue having these conversations because in pop," he says, "where some of them work prolifically on really high releases, they're like, it's strange how the business wants everything to be so informative. Everybody wants a weird song, but still, all the big songs are usually very, very formatted [and] very, very simple."

While unpacking the songs he'd heard back in the 80s offered Tobias a chance to comprehend what makes a good song, it, more importantly, helped him to set out doing it on his own. When digging into crafting a new Ghost number, Tobias explains that "each new song is a little bit like virgin territory with its own riddle to be solved, and is always a combination of the horror of maybe not solving the puzzle, with the thrill when you do. And it's never easy because each new song needs something new. And so you constantly need to feed your ability with knowledge about how other things are."

Breaking it down into a figurative example, he likens it to being like a detective. "I'm assuming that part of being a great detective is to constantly have an open mind, but also constantly learning about human behaviour and wha people do. If you just had 100 forensic classes, but you know nothing about people and how they live their lives, it's gonna be hard to solve crimes." The same rings true for writers who have to read to improve and further understand language, while comedians pull from real-life experiences - music is no different. Tobias's early days of stripping down songs to their basic parts and then rebuilding them have remained a constant endeavour. "But that's how you write songs as well; you go and absorb new things."

The covers process, as mentioned, is a release for Tobias. When things are stuck when trying to piece together a new chapter for the Ghost bible, a cover offers up a chance for something lighter. "Working on covers can be equally euphoric," he confirms, "because it's fun to understand a song whereas, on the other hand, it can be almost demoralising because you're like, I can't believe that this song is so much better than anything that I've written! And it's so much easier. It's so simple."

"I find myself overcomplicating things often, but you might not hear the complicated detour that I took to end up at the more understandable, straighter version that ended up being the actual recording," he continues. "That's a never-ending struggle because that's how it's supposed to be. It's not like you write the one song. I don't think I know anyone or know of anyone who's content with the idea of having written one huge song. And then you know, okay, that's nirvana for you. You don't write the one song the same way that if you're a comedian, it's not like, 'Oh, I just told the funniest joke. So now I'm done".

While Tobias is one for wanting to keep the ball rolling and on a constant endeavour to continue his musical evolution, he knows there's a limit. Every release of Ghost must have a purpose. Nodding to the 60s method of firing singles out on all fronts, eventually compiling them for a full-length release, Tobias acknowledges his relationship with his fans is based on a more long-term understanding. "That's not how we do things; we make an album, and off of that album, there are singles - it's a 70s/80s thinking. And I don't want to refrain from that - I don't want too many singles to be these autonomous little creatures."

But the world is different now. It's a Wild West where being in the masses' consciousness is key, so things may have to change for him. Admitting that right now, he knows he's post-release of Ghost's last canon entry, 'Impera', which arrived back in 2022, and while 'Phantomime' is a reasonable enough bridge, sooner or later, he's going to have to play the game of ensuring Ghost ramp up. Earlier this year, Ghost collaborated with Def Leppard's Joe Elliott on a re-release of 'Impera' cut 'Spillways' which, while a fantastic addition to their arsenal, adds to the same notion Tobias is fearful of. "I'm slowly preparing for making a new record that's going to come out in 2024, which is way too long for the current contemporary music climate; you need to be ever-present," the last phrase hanging in the air ominously.

That doesn't mean he has to lower his standards, however. No Ghost release will exist just for content's sake. Everything must have its place. He even reckons a 14-track album is "a lot of music", and he still sees an album as being "22 minutes of music per side" - true to form, currently, no standard issue of any Ghost album breaches 12 tracks. He's even ready to aim for the likes of The Rolling Stones and The Beatles by swiftly lobbing a couple of spicy takes out. "Look, man, I don't even think that 'Exile on Main Street' is that good. Not even the fucking White album is that great - break it up! Both of those records would have been better if they were trimmed down to singular records."

That pop mind breaking through; Tobias is someone who knows that music is entertainment. Certainly, a medium which often leads to more bulky connotations, but it must entertain. It's why he doesn't pay any mind to those naysayers that yearn for Ghost to be more metal or to follow a different path. This is Tobias's game; we're just privy to the sermon. These days the floodgates are open and, when compared to previous decades, as Tobias remembers it, "you had to buy your own records. Whatever additional music you got, that wasn't maybe heard on the TV or the radio, when you took something from someone else, was usually a choice, so music styles could in some way be a little bit more insular back then just because you weren't subjected to as much." He mentions his beloved death metal as being a signifier of the changes happening. "Back in the day, when I was starting listening to extreme metal, that was completely embraced by a certain little subculture or group of mostly teenagers and 20-somethings. Whereas in the 2000s, when Vice started doing black metal reporting, all of a sudden you have indie personalities who were fans of Darkthrone, and so, obviously, what ended up that turned into this fusion, which was a positive and very natural thing."

This cultural shift is another reason Ghost's space is widening and its success growing. "Nowadays, people are a little bit more open," he admits. But, with this comes issues. "As time has progressed, metal and hard rock, as well as most genres that have been around for a while, [they've] gone from this youth culture to a conservative institution because so many of the fans are now aged." The passage of time waits for no one. But, more presciently for culture, it also means our understanding of what is 'good' and what should be where is moulded differently to when we were younger. "Unfortunately, that happens to most people regardless of who you were when you were 20," Tobias reckons, "or your ideals when you're like 40/50/60 years old. Your brain starts morphing into a slightly more conservative, slightly more nostalgic... You don't want things to change."

Tobias is the first to hold his hands up and admit the same has happened to him. He yearns for 1984 and even 1990-94. He would even be happy with 1987, back to those days with the crackling radio and a childlike spirit. "That would be so much cooler. I loved that way more than in this day and age. But I can't sit around and mope about that because it's not a problem that it's not 1987."

'Phantomime' is proof nostalgia can be a useful tool. It fuels with passion, and Ghost is Tobias's Neverland. "There's such a debate about what we are and why that is." Ghost are a band that, thanks to Tobias's musical education, transcend time. They exist on their own plain and with the evergreen, timeless sounds of yesteryear echoing around Tobias's head, long may Papa reign with his gloved melodic iron fist.

#the band ghost #tobias forge #interview #really good one 👍

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m0thergoose · 8 months ago

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TOWL EPISODE 5 SPOILERS AHEAD MY RAMBLY THOUGHTS AS WATCHING THE EP

LOSING MY SHIT IT’S FATHER GABE MY MAN MY IDOL OMG

NOT how I expected this episode to start omg unWELL

I truly have no idea what to expect from this ep holy hell

Rick is passenger princess confirmed

The hand kiss 🫠

Honeymoon take 2 woopwoop

TASTEFUL NOODS SHUT UP

AND THE MUSIC SHUT UP

OTP on a scenic road trip I’m in love with this

Look at them looking lovingly at Carl

HE’S FINDING GIFTS FOR HIS SON

MAKING A GIFT FOR HIS WIFE 😭😭😭😭

MICHONNE GETTING RJ AN AX IM KILLING MYSELF

TOOTHPASTE FUCK OOOOOOFF

I WAS IN LOVE WITH MY SON’S BEST FRIEND I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO - ARE YOU FUCKING KIDIDNG ME 😭😭😭

RICK KISSING HER NECK 🫠🫠🫠

they found a cabin, they on a real vacation now baby

I NEVER LET GO 🙌

New people I’m scared I don’t like it

Rick is really at Michonne’s beck and call ‘they look pretty hungry’ INSTANTLY drops his bag to find them food lmaoooo

OHHH DONT try this with Richonne you silly silly people

‘Well how bout you just listen’ 😂😂😂😂😂

That’s right Michonne you take your food back lmaoooo

Rick emptying the bullets into michonnes hand sooooorry I’m unwell

Keep your promise asshole 😂

Us against the world 💖

Toothpaste, booze, what are you up to grimes???? I’m just working with what I got - the necklace 💖 RICK LOVES HIS WIFE SO MUCH

RIGHT who is this now??? Is this GABE?

WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK???? GABE AND JADIS????? IN CONTACT????? Noooooooooo I AM CONFUSION

GABE TALKING ABOUT RICK TO JADIS FUCK THIS

GABE IF TOU KNEW RIGHT NOW YOU’D KILL HER YOURSELF AMEN

FUUUUCKING HELL JADIS WAKING THEM UP, it’s like when Jesus walked in on them their first night lmaoooo but this is 1 million times worse!

Michonne looks so hot rn haha

I actually could give a flying fuck about Jadis, hurry up and kill her richonne lmao

YAAAS RICHONNE

OMG GABE ONE DAY RICK SAID THAT I SHOULD MARRY THEM 😭😭😭😭

And he’s kept a wedding ring for Rick actually shoot me rn

Gabe is a richonner confirmed 💖

Now I want Gabriel to be the one to kill Jadis because this is sick and twisted from her

HE GAVE HER RICKS RING GABRIEL YOU BETTA NOOOOT

okay so they’re gonna kill Jadis and as she’s dying she’ll hand him the ring

And next year same day same place it won’t be Jadis that meets Gabriel, it’ll be richonne

HERE we go fuck her up Michonne

Here Ricky dicky goes, fuck them walkers up

Jadis is scum these people better not help her

HAHAHHAHA Michonne just wants to kill this bitch ‘maybe just maim first’ yeah ok Ricky dicky 😂

THATS WHAT U GET FOR TRUSTING JADIS YOU DUMBASSES

UGH DONT KISS HER GABRIEL IF YOU ONLY KNEW

WHAT THE FUCK JADIS WHAT DID SHE DO TO GABRIEL

THIS BITCH SHOT HER MAN MICHONNE IS DEFO GOINGG TO GUT HER LMAOO

Omg

Michonne what you gonna do

Michonne has a plan yes

OMG ARE THEY SPLITTING UP TO SAVE EACH OTHER

‘You’ve looked better’ sassy Rick lol

I’m stilll hoping Michonne just fucking murders her

YEEEEES FUCK THIS BITCH

PAINFUL WALKER DEATH FUCK U JADIS

side note Rick looks v handsome rn

I’ll see you next year Ann - noooo you’ll see richonne next year gabey baby 🤞

‘We’re gonna do that’ ricks like sure whatever you want baby

THE RING KILL ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I don’t want a proposal in front of jadis save it for when you’re alone Ricky dicky

IS THIS A PROPOSAL RIGHT HERE IM CRYING

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

‘I could never have imagined this but it could only ever have been you’ 🥹🥹🥹🥹

SOMEBODY SEDATE ME 😭😭😭😭😭

THE PROMO ‘are we crazy’ ‘certifiable’ LMAOOOOOO

ALSO how the fuck are we wrapping this up in one more episode, we deserve MORE dammit

#twd #towl #richonne #michonne #rick grimes #the walking dead #danai gurira #andrew lincoln #the ones who live #rick and michonne #twd: towl #twd: the ones who live #become #towl episode 5

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justjensenanddean · 2 years ago

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Jensen Ackles and Jeffrey Dean Morgan | New Jersey Convention, Main Panel (April 16, 2023)

(x)

“hey dad! times been good to ya” (x)

when jensen and danneel had crushes on each other but were tied up with other people jensen wrote her a note that said “not now. but someday” and she still has it (x)

jdm was on jensens first date with danneel bc JENSEN INVITED HIM BC HE HAD NO IDEA IT WAS A FIRST DATE (x)

jensen: jdm got off a motorcycle in slomo and i saw hilarie’s jaw on the floor. she had no idea who he was (x)

fan: fav backstage moment from cons jdm: when i told everyone i was having a daughter bc i wasnt supposed to (x)

jensen: when we announced the end of spn and at SDCC there were 7000 people and i told jared “take this in. this is it” (x)

*everyone arguing over an answer* jensen; glad we figured that out. great job jdm: im still confused (x)

jensen got in trouble for sharing info abt a project last con so he will not be saying ANYTHING (x)

fan; SOLDIER BOY COMING BACK? jensen: uh…….no comment (x)

theyre talking about their daughters jdm: mine will be the death of me jensen: one will be the death of me and the other will take care of me jdm; mine will be twerking over my grave jensen: HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW DADDY (x)

.@JDMorgan : the year I did #Supernatural and Grey's Anatomy changed my life #SPNNJ (x)

.@JensenAckles getting the part of Tony in West Side Story in high school was life changing - after his baseball coach talked him into doing it. (x)

(x)

the drama teacher at Jensen’s school wanted him to be in the spring musical and his baseball coach was like “you’ve played with me for three years. go give this a shot i promise we’ll be in the front row” (x) a talent scout was at the play and told jensen that he had it and he should come to LA and he went “lol take a hike” (x) THE ROLE WAS TONY IN WEST SIDE STORY!!! and his whole baseball team was like “woah ” (x)

jensen: getting into the industry is harder now that it was back then jdm: i dont even know how to get an agent now jensen: yeah dont ask us for advice (x)

Question: Jensen, what was your favorite thing about soldier boy? JDM: the codpiece. *crowd laughs* JDM: sorry, I thought you were asking me. (x)

the boots soldier boy wore on the show are the same ones that dean wore on spn. they’re called carolinas (x)

jensen: jdm texted me when i was getting fitted and he was immediately like “SHOW ME THE COD PIECE” and i was like “perfect timing i have five of them lined up which one” AND JDM SAID “PICK THE BIGGEST ONE” (x)

fan; nash was amazing. is there hope for touring in the future for radio co? jensen: thanks it took a lot of drugs jdm: he’s not lying (x)

jensen: touring might be aggressive but anything is on the table (x)

jdm: i watched it online and i remember texting you being like “what the fuck is going on that was amazing” (x)

jensen looked at steve and said “this is a bad idea we should leave” right before going on bc louden swain KILLED and they didnt wanna follow that (x)

.@JensenAckles : even tho it was a vengeful mission, John set out to right a wrong. In The Winchesters we wanted to show John before that trauma. (x)

jensen says the pilot of spn “holds up today” (x)

fan: whats your fav format to play in (movies, tv, voice acting, etc) jdm; whatever has the best writing. we knew supernatural was going to be good by the first ep (x)

jensen turns towards tv bc he doesnt know where it’ll go and where it will end (x)

jensen: ive done soap operas and that was 20-24 pages of dialogue a day (x)

APPARENTLY ONE TIME JENSEN TAPED JEFF’S DIALOGUE TO HIS CHEST AND HE WAS LIKE “WE GOTTA GET THROUGH THE DAY LOOK AT MY TITS” (x)

JENSEN TALKING ABOUT FRIENDS AND HE YELLS “PIVOT” (x)

jensen: i heard “anyway you want it” in the car and almost got out before the second chorus hit bc i thought i was late for stage (x)

fan: go to karaoke song? jensen: have u ever done karaoke? jdm: never in my life. i think you asked me once and i said “goodnight 👋🏻 ” jensen: right but it was more like “goodnight 🖕🏻 (x)

(x)

#Jensen Ackles #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #NJCon23 #SPNNJ #Jensen: Panel Highlights #*#I really enjoyed their dynamic #and how supportive of each other they are #it's very genuine

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midoribobatea · 6 months ago

Text

Lato's Birthday 2023 - Lato's card

Part 1 & Part 2

(Not 100% accurate translation ,So sorry in advance for any mistranslation and any missgramer)

Under The Moonlight - part 1:

*Notice before reading the Butler Story: This story contains some spoilers for Main story - EP 3

We recommend reading this after reading the main story EP 3.

If you wish to avoid spoilers, please return using the button on the top left.

.........

- A few days before Lato's birthday -

With Lato's birthday coming up soon...I was thinking about what present to buy for him.

So... I thought I'd talk to Flure and Miyaji about it, and when I called out to them...

For some reason, we all ended up gathering in the wine cellar in the basement floor of the mansion.

Miyaji: I'm sorry, master. I made you come all the way to a place like this.

Choices:

Flure: Umm...well... because Lato has good hearing...

Flure: We were worried that our conversation might be overheard if we were somewhere else..so we ended up here.

Miyaji: Sounds,voices are usually hardly echo in the wine cellar...so there's no need to worry about Lato hearing us.

Choices:

<I see>

Miyaji: Then...about the birthday present for Lato.

Miyaji: Actually, me and Flure too have been talking about it for a while now.

Miyaji: But we can't seem to decide... If it's alright, I'd like to think it over together with you master...

Choices:

Miyaji: Great. if the three of us discuss it together I'm sure we'll come up with a good idea.

Choices:

<Right>

Flure: Hmm, a present... I guess it would be safe to give Lato something he likes.

Miyaji: Speaking of things that Lato likes...

Choices:

Flure: That's right. parsley is Lato's favorite food.

Flure: But... it doesn't really feel like a birthday present...

Miyaji: In that case... how about a handmade picture book or an original song...?

Miyaji: Lato also likes reading picture books and listening to music.

Choices:

Flure: That's right... That feels more like a birthday present.

Flure: Alright! Let's give Lato one of those two...!

Lato: What are you doing in a place like this?

Choices:

<!?>

Flure: L-Lato?! Why are you?

Lato: When I returned to our room, Flure and Professor Miyaji were not there, so I came to look for you.

Flure: S-so that's what happened...

Lato: Hello, master.

Choices:

<H-hello Lato>

Lato: By the way.... What were you three talking about?

Choices:

<Well...>

Miyaji: That's...

Flure: Umm... well...

Lato: Hm?

Flure: M-master...!

Flure: Master asked what wines we would recommend...so we were just showing a few.

Flure: Isn't that right, master?

Choices:

<Y-Yeah>

Lato: Hmm... Then show me too.

Flure: Wha...?!

Lato: Master... What kind of wine are you interested in?

Lato: I don't know much about alcohol, but I'd be interested in the wine you choose.

Choices:

<U-umm...>

Lato: .......

Lato: Haha... just kidding.

Lato: after all it was just a lie that you were looking for wine, right?

Choices:

<Huh...?>

Miyaji: So after all.. you noticed.

Lato: Yes.

Lato: You were actually talking about my birthday present, didn't you?

Flure: D-did you hear that?

Lato: Yes. When I returned to our room, I faintly heard master's voice.

Lato: I followed the voice..and ended up here at the wine cellar.

Miyaji: So that's what happened... By the way, from which part did you hear us?

Lato: Since the parsley talking part.

Miyaji: Almost everything... As expected of Lato.

Flure: Seriously...you really do have good ears.

Lato: Haha... I am especially sensitive to master's voice.

Choices:

<I-Is that so...>

Lato: I felt like it would be better to pretend I didn't hear in this situation...

Lato: But there was something I really wanted for my birthday, so I ended up calling out to you.

Miyaji: Something you want? What is it?

Lato: A parsley cake.

Choices:

<P-Parsley cake?>

Lato: Yes, this is the cake that appeared in a picture book I read a long time ago.

Choices:

<(There's a picture book like that...)>

Lato: It looked like a very interesting dish, so it made a lasting impression on me.

Flure: Umm... Is there really such a picture book?

Miyaji: Come to think of it... I think I made a picture book like that for Lato a long time ago...

Flure: Huh? Professor Miyaji did...?

Lato: Yes. It was a handmade picture book that professor Miyaji made for me.

Choices:

Miyaji: Well, even if I call it a picture book... I didn't really make anything that impressive or anything like that.

Miyaji: I wondered at that time if there was something I can make that could interest Lato even just a little...

Miyaji: I made this a long time ago when I was still researching.

Miyaji: I do remember the picture book depicted a sponge cake mixed with parsley...

Miyaji: I think it was a cake served with parsley cream...

Lato: It was also topped with finely chopped parsley.

Flure: T-that's sounds...

Choices:

Miyaji: Hmm..

Miyaji: It's a special day for you, Lato. Then, If that's what you want, I'd like to make it come true.

Lato: And if I can ask one more thing...

Lato: If you don't mind, I'd like to make that cake together with you...master.

Choices:

Lato: We can't?

Choices:

<It's not that, but..>

<No, I was just a little surprised>

Miyaji: Master, I'm not sure if it's even appropriate for a butler to ask you to do something like this, but...

Miyaji: Could you please help bake this cake with Lato?

Choices:

<Let's bake it together Lato!>

<Sure!>

Lato: Thank you master.

Flure: Good for you, Lato.

Lato: Haha..Once it's ready, I'll let Flure try it too.

Flure: Huh? Y-yeah...Thanks..

Flure: Ah, but…Do you know how to bake a cake?

Lato: No, I have no idea.

Flure: Y-you wanted to make it without even know how to bake?

Miyaji: Don't worry about that, I'll find out how to make it before the day comes.

Miyaji: Master, you can rest assured too.

Choices:

Lato: Haha..I'm looking forward to it, master.

Choices:

<Yeah>

- A few days later -

Then, on Lato's birthday in the afternoon...

Miyaji gave us a note written with the recipe... After gathering all the ingredients for the cake, me and Lato went to the kitchen.

Meanwhile Miyaji and Flure prepared for the party in the basement butlers room.

Lato: Speaking of which, this recipe note we received from Professor Miyaji...

Lato: Apparently he asked Lono to help him with it.

Choices:

Lato: Yes. Both Lono and Professor Miyaji did it for me...they are very kind.

Choices:

<Okay, Shall we start baking?>

Lato: Yes, let's bake it.

Then we started cooking while looking at the recipe notes.

During the baking process...Lato broke some plates and spilled some ingredients...

It wasn't a smooth process,but...

I followed along as best as I could too... Somehow, Lato and I were able to make the cake according to the recipe.

- After a while -

Lato: Master, the cake dough is ready.

Choices:

<Next, we need to apply the cream>

Lato: Understood.

We spread fresh cream mixed with parsley on the baked dough.

Finally, We sprinkled chopped parsley on the top and the special cake is complete.

Lato: Haha... It looks just like in the picture book.

Lato: Thanks to master's help... I have finally completed my long-awaited parsley cake.

Lato: I could never have made such a wonderful cake by myself.

Lato: Thank you for granting my wish, master.

Choices:

< I'm glad it made you happy>

Lato: Haha... I feel like eating it right now.

Lato: But Professor Miyaji and Flure are preparing the party, so... I'll just have to be patient.

Choices:

<Right>

Lato: Now... before we bring the cake...

Lato: After I change into the costume Flure has prepared. Let's return to the butler's room in the basement...

Under The Moonlight - part 2:

- After a while -

Lato: Sorry to keep you waiting.

Lato: What do you think about this costume?

Choices:

Lato: Hehe.. Thank you.

Lato: It's a costume that Flure made for me. It's very beautiful, I really love it.

Lato: Now that I'm all dressed… let’s bring the cake.

[Devil's Palace basement hallway]

Knock Knock…

Lato: Is it okay to come in now?

Miyaji: Yes. It's okay now.

Lato: It looks like we can come in. Shall we go?

Choices:

<Yeah>

Clunk...

Miyaji: Welcome to the birthday party venue. Lato and master.

Miyaji: We've just finished preparing it.

Flure: Oh! You've changed into your costume, Lato.

Lato: That's right. How is it?

Flure: Didn't I already told you though when you first tried it on?

Lato: I would like to hear it again.

Flure: Wasn't it enough? It suits you very well.

Lato: Haha... I was complimented by master too just before.

Lato: Thank you Flure, for this beautiful costume.

Flure: You're welcome hehe.

Flure: I'm glad you liked it.

Miyaji: Haha..So Lato, did you enjoy making the cake?

Lato: Yes. It was fun to cook with master.

Lato: Take a look. We made a parsley cake that looks just like the one in the picture book.

Flure: I kind of imagined what it would look like but... W-woah What a strong color.

Flure: This... is not matcha, it's parsley, right?

Lato: Yes, there was a lot of slicing, chopping and mixing involved.

Flure: W-Wow...

Miyaji: Did any of you two got injured anywhere?

Lato: Yes. We are alright thanks to master's support.

Miyaji: Then that's good.

Miyaji: Thank you, master. For all of your help and doing it for Lato.

Choices:

Miyaji: Haha..If that's the case I'm glad.

Miyaji: Now then, Lato. I would like you to receive this present from us.

Miyaji said as he placed a lot of dishes on the table.

Lato: this is...

Choices:

Miyaji: Actually, I was cooking in the kitchen early this morning.

Miyaji: After hearing that Lato is going to make a cake with master.

Miyaji: I wanted to prepare something too for Lato.

Miyaji: I used parsley while preparing the dishes so that Lato could eat it.

Miyaji: By the way, this fried chicken has parsley mixed into the batter...while this is a potage that uses plenty of parsley...

Miyaji: I was able to make it thanks to Lono's help in tasting it, so I'm sure it's delicious.

Choices:

<Amazing!>

Lato: Professor Miyaji, Thank you.

Flure: Well then, it's my turn next.

Flure: Here. This present is from me.

Lato: Oh. this is quite a beautiful box.

Lato: Thank you, Flure. I'll treasure this box.

Flure: ...No, the box is just a container. The gift is what's inside the box.

Flure: Try opening it quickly.

Lato: Inside it? Alright...

When Lato opened the box, he found beautiful forks and spoons inside.

Lato: This is…?

Flure: It's a cutlery set.

Flure: Use it to eat a variety of dishes other than just parsley.

Flure: If you keep being picky about what you like and dislike, you'll end up damaging your health.

Lato: Flure..You were worried about my health...

Lato: Hehe... Thank you so much, I'll treasure it.

Flure: Yeah...

Miyaji: Now that we have given you the presents...

Miyaji: Shall we start the birthday party?

Lato: Yes. So, first of all...

Lato: ..should I start with this cake using the cutlery that Flure gave me.?

Flure: Are you going to start with the cake first?!

Lato: Yes, is it a problem?

Flure: Well..it's Lato's birthday after all... I guess it's best to let him eat what he likes.

Lato: Well, I'll try it.

Lato: Hm.... *munch munch*.

Choices:

Lato: Yes, it tastes like parsley and it's very delicious.

Choices:

<I'm glad>

Then Lato cut a small piece from the cake... and picked it with the fork, and held it out in front of me.

Choices:

<Huh?>

Lato: Here master try it too.

Flure: Wait-- Lato! What do you think you're doing to master?

Lato: It was so delicious... I really wanted master to try it too...

Lato: Now.... Open your mouth, master.

Miyaji: La..Lato...I understand how you feel, but if you suddenly do something like that, it will cause a problem for the master too.

Lato: Oh... Is there something wrong?

Lato: Professor Miyaji once told us that "the more good things we share, the happier everyone will be."

Miyaji: That's, well... I did said that sometime long ago...

Lato: That's why... I want to share the deliciousness of the cake with the master too.

Lato: Master... Is it bad...?

Choices:

<I-If it's only just one bite...>

Lato: Thank you. Then, Here you go..

Although I was a little hesitant, I took a bite of the piece of cake that Lato offered me.

Lato: Hehe... Master, is it delicious?

Choices:

<M..Mm-hmm>

<I-it's delicious>

Lato: That's good.

Maybe it was because I was nervous... but to be honest, I couldn't really tell the taste of the cake...

But seeing the happy look on Lato's face... made me feel happy too.

- Tonight -

After Lato's birthday party was over... I was relaxing in my room.

While peeking outside the window for a moment, I noticed the beautiful full moon in the sky.

Knock Knock…

Choices:

Clunk...

Lato: Greetings, master

Choices:

<Lato, did something happened?>

Lato: I'd like to have a little chat with you, master.

Lato: If you'd like... would you like to go for a walk outside with me?

Choices:

<Outside?>

My eyes instinctively turn through the window to the moon rising outside.

Lato: It's alright, master. Now I no longer feel pain when I see the full moon.

Choices:

Lato: It's really okay. I'm not forcing myself.

Lato: Would you like to come with me?

Choices:

<Okay>

Lato: Haha..Thank you, master.

Step... step...

Lato and I walkd together under the moonlight.

Lato looked at the full moon rising in the sky... rather than looking distressed, he was smiling with joy.

Lato: Being able to take a walk like this with master on a full moon night...

Lato: I couldn't even imagine it just a short time ago.

Choices:

<I'm happy too>

Lato: Haha...

Lato: ......It really feels like a dream.

Lato: Until recently, full moon nights were nothing but painful for me.

Lato: I was suddenly overcome by an inexplicable anxiety and fear, and I lost my composure, breaking things in the room.

Lato: There were times when I harmed Professor Miyaji and others.

Lato: This has always...always...

Lato: This has always happened for over 200 years.

Lato: But everything changed...ever since I met you master.

Lato: The full moon that was once such a painful experience

Lato: Is now just feels so beautiful.

Lato: This is all thanks to meeting you, master.

Choices:

<Lato...>

Then Lato stopped and looked straight in my eyes.

Then he smiled and removed the gloves he was wearing...

Lato: Master... can I hold your hand for just a little while...?

Choices:

<What?>

I was a little confused, but... I reached out my hand towards Lato's outstretched hand.

His cold hand gently held mine.

Lato: Warm…

Lato: I can feel master's life force.

Choices:

<U-umm>

Then Lato pulled my hand towards him and pressed the back of my hand against his cheek.

Choices:

<Lato...!?>

Lato: Shhh. quiet.

Lato: You don't want the other butlers to notice us, right?

Choices:

<S-sorry...>

<B-but...>

Lato: Haha...

Lato: Right now...I am very happy.

Lato: Being next to master.... being able to see master's smile....

Lato: I feel happy to be alive, more than I've ever felt before.

Lato: This...is what called love, right?

Choices:

<T-That...>

<.........>

Lato: Just being able to feel master's warmth like this... makes me feel at ease.

Lato: You, master... have become an indispensable part of my life.

Choices:

<Lato...>

Lato: That's why, master.

Lato: Please don't ever disappear from me...

Lato: Can you promise me that?...

Choices:

<I'm not going anywhere>

Lato: Haha, thank you.

Lato: Then, me too... I promise not to leave your side.

Lato: We will always be together...forever.

Choices:

<Yes...>

Lato: You are the first person I have ever felt such love and desire to cherish.

Lato: I'm not much interested in my own life but if...

Lato: Next year's birthday too... Two years from now, and ten years from now...

Lato: I could spend those times forever together with you like this, master...

Lato: Looking forward to that... I want to live.

Saying this, he gently squeezed my hand again.

Hearing those words... I squeezed his hand tightly back.

Choices:

Lato: Master...

Lato: Yes... that's a promise...

Lato: Because I believe in master...

I felt Lato's cold hands gradually warming up.

Through the warmth of his hands, I could really feel Lato's life force.

- End -

#lato bacca #this is one of my fav cards #I'm afraid I didn't do justice to the translation #please correct me if you see any mistakes

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