#get your likely facts twisted to humorous lies

[counter-facts-i-just-made-up]

While many people have heard this and even read it in credible sources, a review of the literature finds a peer reviewed study by Smith et al. from 2027 determined that the number one cause for drowning among cave divers is actually the Creature!

Advice on cave diving

Don’t do it, it’s the number one cause of drowning among cave divers.

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by this, this, and this !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all. 

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny. 

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it. 

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

-

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?” 

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality. 

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him. 

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

-

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared. 

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled. 

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

 How do you do that? 

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking. 

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have. 

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it. 

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be. 

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles? 

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status. 

Who’s going to do all of that, then? 

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

 It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

-

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here. 

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder.  “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.” 

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now. 

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

-

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test. 

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!” 

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent. 

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression. 

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully. 

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

-

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon. 

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

-

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes. 

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough. 

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow.  “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

-

I’ve decided. 

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud. 

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise. 

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there. 

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it. 

Notes. 

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration. 

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed. 

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile. 

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

-

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.” 

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared. 

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

-

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

-

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice. 

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod. 

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

-

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?” 

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits. 

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant? 

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully. 

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination? 

The thought of failing the same way they did. 

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples. 

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion. 

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his… 

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.” 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too. 

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules��. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use. 

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong. 

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away. 

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes. 

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of  love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal. 

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

-

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed. 

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again. 

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else. 

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember. 

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen. 

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it. 

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year. 

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around. 

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you. 

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.” 

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens. 

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language. 

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought. 

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.” 

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue. 

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue. 

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.” 

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too. 

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how. 

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume. 

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes. 

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are. 

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.” 

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget. 

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile. 

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @emmaxdelicate

[darkpetal16]

Could you please give us Reaper x MC headcanons that arent directly related with the game plot?

Absolutely!

He’s seen a lot of desperate SOULS in his time. People who would say or do anything for just one more day of life. The level of depravity and shamelessness he’s witnessed has no limit.

This has left him jaded and wary, doubly so for living SOULS. If it’s your time to die and he has to reap you, he’s taking 99% of what you say with a heaping pile of mistrust.

His experience has also granted him an unmatched intuition. He will always know who is lying to him. It doesn’t matter how good of a liar you think you are, from little lies to big lies, he will always know you’re lying to him.

So don’t lie to him. It’s a waste of time on both your part and he doesn’t care to have to drag out the truth from someone. Be upfront and honest about your thoughts and feelings, he will appreciate that far more than a white lie to spare his feelings or hide yours.

He sees the humor in his job. He sees the humor in a lot of things. Many things—both twisted and wholesome—can amuse him but it’s rare to get a full blown laugh from him. Even his brother hasn’t heard him laugh very often.

He’s cold. When people use the phrase “the chill of death”, they’re referring to him. He’s cold like the first snowflake of winter. He’s not meant to interact with the peaceful SOULS. His goodness isn’t meant for them. He knows this, so he tries to keep even more distance between himself and a peaceful SOUL.

If he touches you, you die.

But he has ways around this; a breeze that’s just a little too cold to be natural in your hair; a sheet in blown into your face for a brief touch along your cheek; a waiting hand stretched out for you in your dreams—

He’s patient. He knows the value of life, and he wouldn’t want you to waste it. He can wait. He can watch from afar.

And if you decide to reset every so often to see him? Well. He won’t complain.

Plays the trombone. He will include sound effects to your daily life. Yes, he knows it’s annoying. No, he won’t stop.

He will sparingly dip into the physical realm to leave little “gifts” for you. This most often comes in the forms of nonsensical pranks (whoppee cushions under the cushion in your favorite chair, plastic wrap over the toilet seat, taking the batteries out of your smoke detector, etc) but he’ll also gift you books from his personal collection, or preserved flowers his brother gave him.

He both is and isn’t jealous. He can have his petty, jealous moments. They don’t last long, but he can’t forget the fact that he literally can’t touch you. So when he sees you embrace or touch someone else it can be hard not to feel a spike of resentment. He tries to not let it bother him, but he’s immortal not perfect.

When the time comes and you near your end, he’ll be there.

You won’t have a painful end. Not with him involved. He’ll take your hand and guide you with all the tenderness and love he’s nurtured for you.

Death loves you.

And for that, you will know eternal peace.

PLAY IF - HORRORTALE FOR HIS ROUTE HERE

MASTERLIST

[chdarling]

I can count on one hand when snape has lost his cool in canon . in poa when harry saved sirius , in OOTP when sirius vs snape , when harry saw his memories . In hbp when harry called him a coward . And that's about it . While majority of time he is composed , confident and insults people with coolness and sass . The list is too long . Like he has coolly sassed Bellatrix , peter , sirius , harry , Ron , hermione , james , lockhart etc .

I love and deeply appreciate your talent but imo snape's behaviour is reversed in TLE , he is just too angry here to think coherently let alone insult or attempt at sarcasm .

I mean Remus has more sarcasm and wit than he has in canon and i have no complain there as i am a sucker for wity banter and humor , but it feels like injustice to Snape's personality to me .

I’m sorry you feel that way! I emphatically (and amicably) disagree.

I think for me it comes down to the fact that I am not trying to replicate the characters exactly as they were in the books. TLE is a prequel, and thus for all the characters — but especially Snape because he actually survives — this is a story of becoming. They’re not meant to be perfectly reflected versions of who they were in the '90s, but rather versions of themselves that could feasibly grow into the characters we see in canon.

The Snape in canon is a 35ish year old man who has survived a war and had years and years to master his emotions and become a top-notch spy who, as you say, sasses the likes of Bellatrix, not to mention lies to Voldemort's face. The Snape I’m writing in TLE is a 17-year-old boy who has done none of that yet but is raw and bitter and wrathful enough to be convinced joining a fascist hate group is a really swell idea.

To me, the moments you point out when Snape loses his cool in canon are the entire point of his characterization, not an occasional aberration, and these scenes were crucial to me when building his character. Rage is crucial to his character. It’s notable, I think, that almost all of these moments are related to the Marauders/Lily in some way. It’s the moment the mask slips and the wounded teenager comes out.

A few examples, just for fun (emphasis mine).

(This got a little long, but I was distracting myself during some severe weather that was stressing me, so I hope you’ll take this in the spirit of fun discussion, and not anything else. 🙂)

From POA, after Sirius escapes:

“THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. “Calm down, man!” Fudge barked. “You’re talking nonsense!” “YOU DON’T KNOW POTTER!” shrieked Snape. “HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT—!”

“Fellow seems quite unbalanced,” said Fudge, staring after him. “I’d watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore.” “Oh, he’s not unbalanced,” said Dumbledore quietly. “He’s just suffered a severe disappointment.”

From OOTP after Harry sees his worst memory:

“So,” said Snape, gripping Harry’s arm so tightly Harry’s hand was starting to feel numb. “So…been enjoying yourself, Potter?” “N-no…” said Harry, trying to free his arm. It was scary: Snape’s lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared. “Amusing man, your father, wasn’t he?” Said Snape, shaking Harry so hard that his glasses slipped down his nose. “I—didn’t—“ Snape threw Harry from him with all his might. Harry fell hard on to the dungeon floor.

From Half-Blood Prince, after Harry calls him a coward:

“DON’T—” screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly demented, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them— “CALL ME COWARD!”

These are all such extreme reactions that, rare as they might be, they definitely suggest an undercurrent of deep rage and, I might add, a pattern of losing control when provoked with certain memories.

And then, of course, there are the flashbacks in which we actually DO get glimpses of young Snape:

“Tuney!” said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet. “Who’s spying now?” he shouted. What d’you want?”

(Interesting, I think, that his first instinct is to shout. Petunia hasn't said anything yet.)

There was a crack: A branch over Petunia’s head had fallen. Lily screamed: The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears. “Tuney!” But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape. “Did you make that happen?” “No.” He looked both defiant and scared. “You did!” She was backing away from him. “You did! You hurt her!” “No — no I didn’t!” But the lie did not convince Lily: After one last burning look, she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused…

Snape’s whole face contorted and he spluttered, “Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too! You’re not going to — I won’t let you —“ “Let me? Let me?” Lily’s bright green eyes were slits. Snape backtracked at once. “I didn’t mean — I just won’t want to see you made a fool of — He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not…everyone thinks…big Quidditch hero—“ Snape’s bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. “I can’t pretend anymore. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.” “No—listen, I didn’t mean—“ “—to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?” He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole…

This to me does not read as a composed, confident boy. This is (in my opinion) an extremely angry, troubled boy who is buffeted around by his emotions, who hasn’t yet learned to articulate them fully, let alone control them. Learning to conquer these emotions and be the cool, calm, and collected double-agent-man we see in canon is a big part of his journey, but it's certainly not something he's mastered yet at 17.

.......But, at the end of the day, this is just a fanfic and everyone has different interpretations of these characters. Which is fine and fun! TLE Snape has always been somewhat polarizing, but I'm pretty set in my interpretation of him. I'm looking forward to exploring more of his journey as he grows into book Snape. He's just not there yet. :)

[filmofhybe]

Chapter 12 - “drown”

> pairing : Nishimura Riki x Female Reader

> genre : college student AU! , Pool Lifeguard AU! , smau , fluff

> warnings : SLOW BURN!! , swearing , bad humor jokes , kys jokes (die etc) , kissing , semi verbal bullying (no violence) , reader! injuring herself by accident , missing parent figure

> chapter synopsis : 2 months later, y/n & niki continue to hang out with each other’s group. Causing Isabelle to be jealous of y/n, pushing her into the pool, trying to drown her at the end of her shift.

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comment or reblog to ask be on the series taglist.

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

( I also just want to mention that this series is kinda slow burn, so if your not into slow burn or plot lines that can take a bit to develop than this story is probably not your cup of tea. But I do recommend checking out my other works if you want, enjoy!! )

; AUTHORS NOTE : is coming to an end :( I know I stopped updating this bc I have absolutely lost motivation to continuing. But for now this is chapter 12, 3 more chapters to go :(

WARNING : attempt murder, “drowning” , y/n struggling, parent death, swearing (Not PROOF READ!!)

I sighed as I finished mopping the pool deck, the dim light casting a serene glow over the water. The day had been long, and the campus pool was finally empty. My lifeguard duties were nearly done, ready to close the pool and go hang out with my friends. or so I thought.

Out of the shadows and sound of slippers walking emerged someone, it was Isabelle, a simmering resentment in her eyes. I tensed, knowing there was no love or civil lost between us. Isabelle walked towards me, arm crossed and wasted no time launching into a bitter tirade about my dad.

“Look at who it is? Y/n Y/l/n.. surprised your working at a place where your dad drown. How disrespectful of you? Have you never considered that fact your dad drowned? I could never be like you.” She chuckled as I felt tears swelling up my eyes. But she doesn’t stop there. “And how dare you to hang out with MY Niki? Your the reason why he never hangs out with me. Ha.. you really think I don’t know why? Acting like your struggling with metal health just to get him to listen to you pathetic little problems… I could never be like you..”

Despite my attempts to keep her distance, Isabelle's words stung. The tension between them escalated until, in a moment of blind anger, I didn’t even realize Isabelle was stepping closer and closer to me. Before I could fully comprehend the situation, Isabelle shoved me into the deep end of the pool.

The shock of the cold water engulfed y/n. Panic set in as she struggled to stay afloat. Isabelle's twisted satisfaction echoed through the empty pool area. The lights remained dim, casting an eerie glow on the chaotic scene unfolding.

Niki’s POV:

“What’s taking so long for y/n to come out?” Jake asked, cold wind blowing towards all of us. “She’s not replying either so I don’t know..” Hanni replied as she continues to rub her hand with Isa’s, trying to gain warmth. I sighed as I continue to spam call her. Clicking on the contact name “baby🤍” again, few seconds later, it still goes to voice mail.

“Right this is actually getting ridiculous imma go in.” I said as I pushed pass Ricky and Jake. “Yo bro she’s probably coming out!” Hearing both of them yell. I could care less, what if something happened to her? I could care less if they were following me too. I passed through the glass doors towards the pool, seeing a silhouette of someone, just standing there looking towards the pool. My eyes dashed towards the pool, realizing the person standing was Isabelle, chuckling. I see bubbles coming up from pool below. Y/n.. she pushed y/n into the deepest end of the pool.

“Bro what’s going on-”

Nothing but worry and desperation to save y/n came in the form of me. Without hesitation, l dove into the water, my arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her to the surface. The relief was short-lived as she coughed and gasped for air, realizing the danger she had narrowly escaped.

As Isabelle's malicious actions became apparent, Jake and Isa, witnessing the incident, restrained her in a fit of rage. “stop! Let me go! I didn’t do anything” The confrontation attracted the attention of others – Jungwon, Ricky, and Hanni swiftly dialed for an ambulance. The urgency in their voices reflected the severity of the situation. “Please come quickly!”

I watched her face turning paler and paler, realizing she’s losing more oxygen. “Niki..cpr..” that’s the last thing she said before she faints in my arms. Fuck.. what do I do.. “NIKI! QUICK CPR! MOUTH TO MOUTH! GIVE HER OXYGEN!” Isa yelled, who was once a lifeguard in her own right, I immediately started administering CPR. Each compression and breath carried the weight of a lifeline as y/n’s oxygen supply dwindled. The fear in my eyes mirrored the desperate struggle to revive y/n. I promise I’ll save you love.. you would not die in my arms today.. my tears and sweat drops along with the pool water. I know we haven’t kissed and I know we aren’t a thing yet but I would do anything to save you right now.. slightly opening her mouth as I breath into her mouth, her pale but yet soft lips touches mines, snapping out of my thoughts, I quickly start giving her cpr again. After a few more seconds, y/n starts coughing up more water. Her eyes filled with tears as she grabs onto my arm. I pulled her into my embrace as I pat her back smoothly. Whisper nothing but soft caring words.

“Is okay love.. your fine.. I’m here..”

The distant wail of an approaching ambulance added to the chaotic symphony. In the background, the school's teacher and principal arrived, flanked by a police officer who took swift action against Isabelle's reckless act. Isabelle was led away, restrained, and destined for the police station.

Amid the chaos, y/n was carefully placed on a stretcher as paramedics took over. The urgency in their movements reflected the critical nature of the situation. Niki, visibly shaken but determined, accompanied y/n to the ambulance.

The flashing lights of the ambulance cut through the darkness as it sped towards the hospital. Y/n lay on the stretcher, consciousness fading in and out. Niki held onto her hand, still soft even with the tubs in it, his concern etched across his face. The paramedics worked diligently, monitoring y/n’s vital signs, battling against time.

At the hospital, the ER team swiftly took over. Niki, desperate for answers, waited anxiously outside. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him. The others soon arrives as minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity. Finally, a doctor emerged. Everyone heart pounded as he awaited the verdict. The doctor's words were a mix of relief and concern

“Your the reason she’s alive right now. She’s fully conscious and safe. But the accident has fully affected her.” Isa and Hanni’s heart hurts just by listening to his words. “You may visit her but please be gentle with her.” The group thanked him as they walked into the room.

Isa and Hanni quickly walk in, seeing y/n still smiling even after the terrible accident made the girls burst into tears. Walking towards her as they hugged her carefully.

“You don’t even know how worry we were of you…” Hanni sobbed into y/n’s embrace. “My girls is okay I’m okay..thank you for being here..” y/n whispered as she continue to hug them. Intak and Ricky ripped both of the girls from you as they hugged you. “We were worried sick, we thought we were going to lose you..”, “You should thank Niki. He really saved you…” intak exclaimed as he moved aside, trying to collect his tears. You looked over and see the boy you fell in love months ago, soaked wet. He walks up to you, pulling you into his embrace. Still warm even thought he’s fully drained. Tears starts to flow into your eyes as you realized your currently alive with the people you love because of him.

“Thank you for saving me…”

“I will save you everyday my love..” He kisses your forehead as you melt into his warm arms.

“For your information, the others are coming soon.” Isa informed, groans filled the room as it’s going to turn chaotic once the others arrive.. at least you’re surrounded with love today..

series taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @haechansgf @txtistheloml @skepvids @syuuji @oshakyao @haechansbbg @en-happiness

network : @k-neighborhood @k-films @k-labels @kflixnet

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

[wh0re4women]

Not a Good Girl. Part 1. Part 2 here. (Larissa Weems x Reader.) NSFW.

Summary: Reader sends explicit pictures and messages to Larissa while she’s at a meeting. Larissa comes home and punishes the Reader.

warnings: spanking, dom larissa, sub reader, teasing, etc etc etc

You could’ve lied and said that you had no clue how you had managed to get yourself in this situation — bent over Larissa's wooden desk with your naked body on display, but you knew that wouldn't do you any favours.

As Larissa roughly held a fistfull of your silky hair in one hand, using the other to draw patterns along the bare skin of your ass, you knew, in that moment, that your lie wouldn't fool a single soul in the building. And yet, even if you did attempt to spew up a story to defend your racy behaviour, it wouldn't change the fact that Larissa's phone was filled with evidence against you, containing multiple suggestive, vulgar text messages and pictures of you that she'd kill to protect from anyone else's vision.

You hadn't expected for Larissa to react the way she did — ignoring all of your previous messages before simply telling you to unclothe, kneel and await her return from whatever meeting she was at.

Pure excitement swirled deep in your stomach, up until the point your eyes landed on Larissa's frustration-woven features as she stepped into her office just over an hour later. Then, and only then, did that excitement die down, allowing room for nervousness to set in.

Larissa looked furious. Turned on, but steaming with fury. You had stood up and approached her warily, hoping that you could explain yourself a little before she managed to have her own way with you. That plan ceased to exist the moment you opened your mouth as the tall blonde was quick to silence you, gripping your wrist in a swift motion before twisting your arm behind your back and carefully, yet firmly pressing the front of your body down against her smooth desk.

"I'm sorry!" You shouted abruptly, knowing deep down that no apology was going to save you now, but surely it was worth a shot. Maybe, just maybe, Larissa would soften due to your desperate pleas.

Having never seen your lover so pent up, you couldn't decide whether you were more scared or turned on from the sight.

That's when Larissa grabbed your hair in one swift motion, twisted her fingers in it and pulled back sharply enough to make you groan — a groan that morphed into a whine as your lower stomach heated up with a familiar burn.

"Sorry?" Larissa chuckled sarcastically, leaning down to press her ruby lips up to your flushed ear, "Sorry isn't going to cut it, darling."

The tall blonde's sentence was punctuated with a stinging slap to your ass before she let your hair fall from her grip as you gasped from the impact of her palm.

You felt the warmth surrounding you suddenly dissolve. Sharp heeled footsteps made their way around the room, yet you didn't dare look up, knowing well you were already in enough trouble and Larissa was not to be tested further.

It was almost humorous how drastically your behaviour had changed the second she stepped into the room with you and you got to see the dark in her eyes. So clever over text; not so brave anymore.

Larissa's face lit up in amusement as she watched you bring your arms behind your back and fold them like an obedient little girl. Well, too late for that.

The tall blonde dipped her slender fingers into the leather handbag she had abandoned by her office door, retrieving her phone a second later.

"I want to call you my good girl, [y/n]," Larissa's voice melted like butter as she spoke; smooth, slow and gentle. "But you haven't been a good girl, have you, darling?"

And just like that, the softness in her voice was gone.

You whimpered as your core throbbed, legs trembling already from the strain of holding your position; feet apart, tiptoes touching the ground, chest flush against the mahogany.

Focusing on anything other than the ache between your thighs was almost impossible. So much so, that you hadn't heard Larissa's heels echo through the room and back towards you. In fact, you hadn't even realised she was anywhere near. Not until she harshly placed her phone, which was now lit up with all of the filthy messages you had sent her, right in front of you.

"I can explain," you started, sighing softly.

"Oh, please do... Indulge me, [y/n]," Larissa snapped back, arms crossing over her chest in disapproval.

Was she delighted to have received those stunning photos? Sure. Did it turn her on to hear all of the filthy things you wanted her to do to you? Of course. Was it appropriate for you to do both of those things during a very important meeting? Absolutely not.

"I - I missed you."

Larissa scoffed, "You missed me?" Two clicks of heels and Larissa was right behind you again, towering over your naked frame as she pressed her left arm next to you on the desk for support. Her right palm slid with ease down between your soaked thighs as she continued, "Or did your pussy miss me?"

Your mind spun with arousal as you felt her long digits slide through your wetness, gathering as much of it as possible on her middle finger before she circled that same finger around your sensitive clit. It was all you could feel or think about in that moment.

Craving her touch for hours had made you almost lose your sanity, your knees wobbling as moans started flowing freely out of your mouth.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Larissa shook her head, a playful smirk playing on her lips at the mess she had rendered you to. "Ignoring me is only going to make things worse for you, darling."

The blue eyed woman snatched her hand away before bringing it back down, this time with more force, on the same ass cheek she had hit previously, pulling a distraught whine out of you as your chest rose and fell with harsh breaths.

"I-I'm sorry!"

"Not good enough." Another slap.

"Please," you were panting at this point.

"Please what, [y/n]? You're making this difficult for yourself. Use your words, darling," Larissa was feeling quite cocky with herself. Making you a dripping, incoherent mess was just one of the biggest delights in her life.

The blonde steadily began tracing her fingertips up your soaked thighs, biting her lipstick tainted bottom lip as to muffle the moan that slipped its way through at the feeling of your wetness.

Her skilled fingers drove through your slick folds at an agonising pace, up and back down, before leaving you craving more as she smoothed over the pink rosy mark on your butt cheek and crawled up along your spine.

A strangled moan forced its way out of your throat once she reached your hair, repeating the motion from before and pulling it back. This time, guiding your focus towards her phone, filling your vision with enough to make you blush.

"I'm only going to ask this once, darling, so pay attention," Larissa spoke dangerously low as her free hand snaked around the front of your thighs and right in between, making quick work of finding your hard clit as she drew fast circles, "Do you think what you did today was in any way appropriate? Do you think I deserved that? Do you understand just how difficult you made my meeting, darling? How frustrated you made me?"

With your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your hips bucking in Larissa's warm palm, you somehow managed to find the power to answer the Principals questions.

"N-No! I m-mean, I'm sorry!"

Larissa eased up on her movements, letting your soft hair cascade back down as she straightened up enough to lean over the desk again. Enough to keep a torturous pace on your now-swollen clit.

You were already close. So, so close. But you knew the blonde wouldn't give in so easily. Tears formed in your eyes as you tried to find redemption, "I'm sorry for my behaviour, Principal W-Weems. I didn't think about how my actions would, um, oh—"

A moan cut your sentence short as you felt Larissa's long digits slide inside of you.

"Do continue, [y/n]." There was a sickly tone in the tall woman's voice; one that had your body flush, both, in anger and arousal.

"Um, I just wanted to say," you tried again as your eyes fluttered shut, hips beginning to ride back and forth at an even pace, "I'm really sorry. It—It won't happen again."

"No," Larissa confirmed, now curling her fingers the way she knew would make your mouth fall open as she relished in the sounds that she could pull out of you. She was hot, bothered, frustrated and pent up. And somehow, you were the one getting exactly what you had wanted all along, "It certainly won't be happening again."

Cries pulled from your lungs as Larissa's fingers left your heat, making your pussy clench from the loss of warmth.

"In fact, I believe your behaviour will be absolutely stellar after I'm done with you," the tall blonde smiled as she spoke calmly over the noise of your cries, whines and pleas.

The silky material of her dress tore away from your skin, and within seconds you were up and following her warmth, grasping onto the fabric wrapped around her forearms as you looked up at her with doe eyes, "I'm going to be a good girl, I promise! Please."

"Yes, my darling. You will be," Larissa nodded in confirmation, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips, "That's if you want to cum at all today."

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask what she meant, to stupidly beg some more, but before you could, Larissa began undressing nonchalantly.

Tongue running over your lips, you took in the sight with appreciation, delighted that she was still willing to give you what you so badly craved.

You dropped to your knees, palms resting on the soft skin of your thighs as you desperately wanted to taste her. Larissa softly smiled, mumbling a "Good girl," as she rid herself of the rest of her clothing and undergarments.

Surprisingly, the principal had left her heels on, your eyes following the clicking of them as she rounded her desk, her bottom half now out of sight.

Furrowing your eyebrows as she sat down on her office chair with a relaxed sigh, you attempted to rise again, wanting to see more of her.

"Ah, ah," Larissa lifted a finger in warning, "You'll be staying right there."

And without another word, the blonde's eyes fell shut, just as her nimble fingers darted down out of your eyesight, and no amount of shifting or raising onto your knees made the view any more pleasant for you. Larissa was almost completely out of sight, her stupid desk being entirely in the way.

And as you mentally cussed yourself out for kneeling right there of all places, all you could hear were the sweet, relieved gasps and sighs falling from the blondes lips. Then, in that exact moment, you swore to yourself that you would never, absolutely EVER, tease the woman again.

[silviakundera]

The Spirealm episode 5 -7 reaction (Let's call this episode 4 now per the new 38 episodes version)

fair warning: in these episode reactions I'm not gonna pretend I haven't read the novel. in fact, I purposely finished the novel before viewing, to get The Full Experience. thus novel spoilers, including twist end, included.

[1] [2] [3-4]

DON'T LEAN ON THE BANISTER ASDFGHJK

Ruan Baijie saving his boyfriend's ass yet again, must be Tuesday.

Then first key!!!! I wanna see the key!!!!!!!!

The survivors: wow, ok, Baijie really loves u

"Are you leaving so soon and reluctant to leave me?" // "No, it's not that," he lies

The suspicious survivors just couldn't resist trying to steal the door note and now no one has the key but the monster NICE GOING 😒

ahh and then the reveal that ofc Ruan Baijie figured out the taboos long before. He saves those who are worthy (aka his new partner).

wow Ruan Baijie is pretty. gifs don't do him justice.

Death match vs the bad hair day from The Ring.

Ep6

The whole scene in the opening of ep 6 is terribly cute. Ruan Baijie exposed as a drama sprite who was faking his injury, but Lin Quishi just accepts this in good humor as he's told this was just to "bring us closer" and for fun. Another round of, you're really picking me? but why?

He really does the, 'come closer' move to make your crush get up close so you can create a sense of intimacy with hushed voices smh

"Because there is light in you."

oh, did you give me this expensive looking necklace because you want me to join your gang?

no, because you are you.

..... misses the very gay pass completely.

(tbh I feel as if the actor is playing it like his character IS sensing the romantic undertones sometimes but doesn't know how to respond/not ready to process it and so represses & pushes it out of his mind and to the side)

Ep 7

They solved the case. Ruan Baijie gives him back the key again, "Still yours." They exchange a romantic look before he steps over.

Our protagonist thinks he's back in reality and only 15 minutes have passed. But of course that's not true: whether he entered the game time A, B, C, or it's the 12th Door theory... he's still in-play.

A roommate?? This must be the Wei what's his face, his One Friend I recall from the novel. With the girlfriend.

Injuries from the door lingering "outside".

Chestnut won't let him hug! (The clue in the novel that this is still within the door. Now, is this a new phenom or was it already Like That in ep 1? 🤔 Remains ambiguous.)

Wait, in this drama the One Friend has heard of Spirealm?! And it's eviiiill reputation. Everyone who plays it "goes insane and commits suicide". Lin Quishi acts like he hasn't already been warned that players die from the game.

Ah, created by a chinese designer who wanted to make a "comprehensive spirit world". The story goes, after he made it he added all the violent elements to the version he sold, to make it a bloody survival game.

'Can't control when you enter the door, can't get rid of it, Men Can Conquer Heaven'.

Bro goes to sleep and startles awake cause Ruan Nanzhu fka Baijie is pulling an Edward Cullen by his bedside. The more intense looking Nanzhu asks him to come along. Naturally, our boy stumbles along and meets!!! Cheng Qianli!!!!!!! 😄😄😄😄 Who is driving, like the scene in the novel. IM SO HAPPY.

Headquarters!!!!! The group!#####!!!! I'm hyped to see them all live & in color.

Emphasized again that once you enter the game, you must complete all 12 doors to get rid of the mental control of the game. ~Mind control~

(because the censors won't allow it to be explicitly supernatural)

(which doesn't mean the writer didn't intend to get around this barrier by using subtext & inferences that novel readers would understand 🤔🤔)

The clue for his next door freaks out the whole house. But then he meets cranky Cheng Yixie!!!!

He's settling in but the moment he glimpses Nanzhu's returned BUT INJURED *gasp* Must scurry down for hurt/comfort UST.

Love how absolutely unnecessary this hand-holding is. Light piano background to set the romantic mood.

A gurgling stomach growl from Ruan Nanxhu & Lin Quishi takes the initiative to stand up and make himself at home to cook for the man who's obviously being positioned as his love interest. (Like in The Untamed & Word of Honor, we're not being terribly subtle here.)

This is the 3rd time we've seen an instinctive caretaking gesture from him towards Nanzhu and the last moment as we fade out is the "boss man" looking down at his newly bestowed bandage and obviously GOING THRU IT. He's making this sigh and curling his fingers and everything.

side note: Lin Quishi is getting flashes of himself trapped under rubble. This is the second time we see them. Are they flash backs? Of a past event he survived, giving him baggage to carry? OR are we circling back again to my alternate, alternate theory that an evil VR game is part of the illusion and this IS the supernatural Doors from the novel that terminal people can get a chance to enter, to prolong or possibly prevent your death? (if so, then Ruan Nanzhu is still indeed the 12th door god. and Lin Quishi must decide to remain in the fantasy or exit & return to reality?)

[offsidekineticist]

❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜ for anyone :3

Hey Arrow! Gonna take a peek into the timeline where Theoven never leaves Cheliax for this one, so we can take a look inside Giliys's messed up little brain before the two get together.

Prompt from this post.

You are a fucking idiot. This isn't news to you, but it's especially relevant right now, when you realize you're feeling angrier than usual because you've never seen your best friend - the guy you are stupidly in love with, no matter how much you tell yourself it'll never fucking happen - crack a smile.

There are a lot of emotions you've never seen on Thay's face, on account of him being a bleachling and just not emoting all that much at all. Rage. Despair. Disgust. You've seen him pleased, but that wasn't worth a smile to Thay - when he's pleased, his face is relaxed, and his chin bobs in this quick short nod.

(You live for those fucking nods, cuz you're a fucking moron)

And you've seen him laugh - well, laugh by Thay standards. Your sense of humor is as warped as the rest you, but for some fucking reason, Thay finds you funny, and when he does, you get a Thay laugh - a short but audible exhale through his nose.

(Those weird little breaths make your day. Like a fucking idiot)

The thing is, you know he fakes it for other people. Other people find his lack of expression "creepy." Because they're stupid. The fact he doesn't bother with that when he's talking to you is a sign of trust, and you treasure that, by Thamir you do -

But you want to see what your friend looks like when experiencing pure joy. No, that ain't it. You want to cause him pure joy. You want to see him smile and know it's because of you.

Here's the part that makes you an idiot: he handed you the opportunity to do that years ago, and you said no.

It was a few months after you first met. You were passing through Brastlewark, so you stopped by the library to say hi, and he asked if you'd like to get dinner together sometime. And you wanted to say yes, because Thay's smart and kind and cute and funny and so far outta your league, and you'd already started daydreaming about his wispy white hair and charcoal gray eyes, and also he'd probably insist on paying because he's the one with a job, and you never say no to free food just on principle -

But getting that close would mean telling him about the Thing, and you know he'd hate you forever the moment he learned about the Thing. Better to just stay friends.

That left you a dilemma: how to turn him down? Cuz you can't say "sorry, can't, cuz then I'd have to tell you the truth about how absolutely shit I am as a person, and you'd never want to see me again." But you also don't want to give him the impression that he's somehow failed to meet your standards (cuz you don't have standards, but if you did he'd have outdone them a hundred times over). But you also -

"I'm straight." Sweet Silent Blade why did you pick that lie?!

It did the trick, of course. He nodded, but with a little crease between his eyebrows (that's his "accepting disappointing news" face) and thanked you for "your forthrightness." Because what else was he going to say? "No you're not"?? Sure, you could think of a few people you'd met who might say that, but not Thay. Even if he suspected you lied, he'd have the good sense to realize you were trying to let him down easy.

You don't regret it, not exactly. Well, you do, but you don't see what else you could've done without telling him about the Thing. But it seems like the longer you know him, the more you wish you could've just gone to dinner with him. Sometimes you think about just asking him out - but even if it was acceptable to do that without discussing the Thing (it's not), it's been years. He's definitely over you by now. Probably wonders what he ever saw in you in the first place, cuz even without the Thing, you're a pretty twisted motherfucker.

But that doesn't change the fact that you love him - or as close to love as your warped heart can manage. Doesn't change the fact that you want to bring him joy.

"You know," you say casually one day, "I don't think I've ever seen you smile."

Thay looks at you with a blank expression. "Well, I must keep some secrets, or you'll grow bored of me."

It's a joke, you're pretty sure - he's rarely completely expressionless, but he is as he delivers his line. It's also the only answer you get, and for the millionth time you wish you could've just said yes.

[burningexeter]

[PITCH]

Total Drama Presents Backdoors In The Night

What is it —

An animated horror movie and spin-off of Total Drama, focusing on the seven characters you see above here and takes things in a new and interesting direction let's say.

PREMISE:

Set some time after the last three seasons of the original run, Gwen Fahlenbock is finally starting to turn her life around and move on with it after vowing to never return to Total Drama ever again and trust her when she says it wasn't just taking a dive over Niagra Falls that made her decide that.

But while that may be the case for Gwen and especially Zoey Belanger, the same cannot be said for Sky Ahenakew who is struggling more than ever after now being seen as a joke and her newfound ego doesn't help things either.

It's when the three of them meet or rather run into each other unexpectedly on a dark and stormy night, an accident caused by the three of them on the elevator they're on sends them straight to an unknown floor that is full of branching corridors and endless rooms, each filled with their own surreal, dream-like and nightmarish creations behind each door.

They quickly discover that they're not in the building they were in anymore and instead are stuck in a strange sort-of dimension that's almost similar to ours. It immediately escalates once they too realize that they're lost and discover each in their own way and to their own shock that four more-than-familiar teen girls are stuck or rather have been stuck there for a while now since before they even got there in the first place — Heather Kasuga, Lindsay Richmond, Dawn Summerset and Amy Bradshaw — that begin terrorizing them once they realize they're the keys to finally getting out of there.

However, once they learn and unleash a monster or rather malignant spirit that is guarding the place or backdoors they're in, all seven of them must ultimately overcome their differences in order to not only survive but navigate and make their way home back to their own dimension as well before their souls are stolen and consumed entirely.

NOTES/TRIVIA/DETAILS:

• While the movie will still retain the witty and dialogue-driven banter of the series especially in the same vein as the one that started it all Total Drama Island, it will also be much more if not far more darker and edgier than anything in this show combined, coming to balance the humor with genuinely dark and scary horror moments and an ever-escalating high stakes that actually make you feel like the characters are in danger.

• The movie will also have a hard PG-13 rating that it pushes especially since the leads are all gorgeous teen girls with those good ol' Hartman hips. There will be plenty of scary and intense scenes but also swearing here and there, lesbian sex and make-outs and more of an adult tone at parts.

• Speaking of which, it will be revealed that all seven of the characters — Gwen, Heather, Lindsay, Zoey, Dawn, Sky and Amy — are in fact bisexual. But done in an interesting turn of events, it's ultimately revealed that in order to escape alive, they not only have to keep their eyes shut and not look at the spirit creature but also have sex with each other and therefore no longer be virgins as the creature can tell. Only the twist is that Heather, Lindsay, Dawn and Amy all lied about the sex part and instead wanted to have sex before they possibly died, leaving Gwen, Zoey and Sky stunned. But that doesn't stop them from giving their phone numbers to the three and asking them if they want to go out on a date now to the movies to which said three accept. Gwen, Heather and Lindsay go out, making them a polyamorous couple while Zoey and Dawn go out and Sky and Amy go out, thus making them bi.

• The creature itself will be a weird but effective and creepy design that's a combination of smoke, boney flesh and of imposing height. We'll never get a good look at it but enough bits and pieces to give you an idea of what it's like that leaves it open to your imagination.

• The film obviously does have a Backrooms-influence to it but does it in its own unique, weird way that it's able to be its own thing.

[watchmorecinema]

Safety Last!

Safety Last! is a 1923 silent comedy by Harold Lloyd. I think when it comes to silent film stars most people know Charlie Chaplin and less people know Buster Keaton, but Harold Lloyd isn't nearly as well known as either. This is a damn shame since I think he's probably the funniest stuntman out of all three, with Safety Last being his masterpiece. Since the film came out in 1923 it's in the public domain; that link above is the full 72 minute film, free of charge for people to enjoy.

It's a movie that's 100 years old, and yet it's still relatable and clever. Lloyd plays a down on his luck salesman who's not doing well for himself, but is desperately trying to impress a girl. He's too prideful to admit that he's not successful and clever enough to hide it. He's not willing to admit his mistakes and as a result gets pulled deeper and deeper into situations he's not really able to handle. I feel like that's an experience a lot of people have had. I know I've tried to cover my mistakes, only to make things worse and have the whole thing collapse like a house of cards at the end.

At first these are small things like buying expensive gifts that he can't really afford and sneaking around the shop he works at so he doesn't get nabbed for being late. By the end his lies have completely imploded and he has two options: a) tell the truth, b) climb a building with no safety equipment or training, while missing your thumb and index finger. He should have gone with a).

Note: He didn't lose his thumb and index finger in the movie. The actor lost it in while shooting a previous movie when a bomb blew up while he was holding it. There's camera trickery and some stunt doubling going on but you are in fact seeing an 8 fingered man do his best not to kill himself while climbing a tower.

His stuntwork and gags are all incredible. Not being able to lean on dialogue means that it's all visual humor, which is timeless. There's no pop culture references to miss or language barriers to overcome. The first two minutes alone has one of the greatest twists I've seen in a film, and it does so just via camerawork.

It's such a great film and I really hope anyone reading this takes the time to give it a chance.

[skloomdumpster]

saundreas + "I can't believe you burnt down my house so Sky and I would have to move in with you"

"I can't believe you burnt down my house so Sky and I would have to move in with you"

"That's your version of the facts" Andreas rolled his eyes, "but you and I both know you've always had a penchant for the dramatics."

Saul scoffed, glaring around the Alfea chambers. He couldn't believe he was back to technically living under the same roof as Andreas, even if the roof was a castle and there was no real need for them to ever meet.

Well, even that was a lie, because Saul's previous room had been taken over by none other than Andreas himself and his new chambers were literally the next door over.

"You burned down the house I raised Sky in. All the memories he had- We had. Why?"

"Your decoration was less than stellar" Andreas scoffed, throwing Saul the new uniform. Rosalind had a sick sense of humor, getting him to settle Saul. Some twisted sort of punishment.

"It meant nothing to you, everything to him. Why would you do this?" Saul pressed on, "why do you hate him so much? He's- All he's ever done was be born, Andreas, why-"

"You built a shrine" Andreas interrupted "you took my son and then you lied to him about who I was and then you built a shrine for this man who never existed, in my son's room. You built a man I'll never live up to in Sky's head. You killed me, and then you took my son, and then you made sure that I stayed dead by replacing me with some legend."

Saul's mouth clicked shut and he immediately wanted to apologize, but what came out instead were words that tasted like bile, "he had to have someone to look up to. It couldn't be me, the man who had murdered his father and it couldn't be you, the genocidal beast."

"So you made sure he had nothing but a lie," Andreas scoffed, "glad you weren't the brains of our little battalion"

"I did what I had to do. I built him a home, a loving home, I gave him a role model and I loved him-"

"You fed him lies and you called it love" Andreas smiled "I made him a favor burning that crap down. Made you both a favor, you're welcome."

[widogastc]

I posted 4,395 times in 2022

That's 4,395 more posts than 2021!

197 posts created (4%)

4,198 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@viciousmollymaukery

@widogastc

@wanderingbasilisk

@rainbowcaleb

@quinn-of-aebradore

I tagged 1,509 of my posts in 2022

#txt - 222 posts

#cr spoilers - 153 posts

#cr - 80 posts

#fav - 76 posts

#the last straw - 62 posts

#exu:c spoilers - 59 posts

#essek thelyss - 48 posts

#core.tags - 47 posts

#m9 - 41 posts

#essek brainworms - 38 posts

Longest Tag: 70 characters

#…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ( ͡°ᴥ ͡° ʋ)⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱(⊃ • ʖ̫ • )⊃୧(＾ 〰 ＾)୨

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i have decided that essek's sense of humor is just straight up lying like he just lies for fun and lets people run with it. its the most like senseless lies too no he has never had a cherry in his life and yes of course he has been to the moon but he is so quick and sure with it & its essek cmon he doesnt lie when it isnt about war crimes duh ! so ppl just buy it & he most of the time just lets ppl run with it forever (that is of course if you miss caleb's inconspicuous lil smile he gets when he does so but then again when is he not smiling when essek's around.)

457 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

#4

shadowgast fucks with me bc the thing is, caleb's sense of romance is skewed and shaped like everything else is, given, well, everything. kissing and flirty and sex are such a trivial thing, tools to be used, transactions, another step of deception and manipulation; this is a known fact. so like everything, romance looks and feels so differently for caleb, the steps, gestures, mannerisms, even words, they are all over the place in a very specific way. and then, on the flip side, you've got essek, whom, to me, would sense romance as alien; not something he's inexperienced with, but something that felt disconnected, a puzzle, a tool he never figured out how could be useful for him. i think he never got romance, never fully explored it in a way that was comfortable much less fulfilled him, because he never got the full scope of feelings, not until the nein. and thereafter, caleb.

the fact of the matter is that they were shaped in similar ways, and their view of romance aligns in the most baffling ways. it shouldn't work, they shouldn't work, but i could not think of anybody better for them to deconstruct romance and love as they know it because there's nobody better who could understand their thought process, how they got there, and all the venom they are working to throw back up. there is nobody better to not only sympathize but empathize and not shy away nor judge these twisted little residual shards of their upbringings because they each only want the other to be and do and feel better, feel loved. the bond that formed between them, the love that grew there too, against all odds, is so goddamn pure. not innocent, nor wholesome, but pure, raw, primal, selfish; i need you to do better, it makes me better, your smile is my joy, selfishly, i want you to be happy, i need you to. it means i can too. it all circles back to healing by loving, loving by healing and being loved being a sign of healing. they are.. a lot and i am enamoured by them.

633 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

#3

hmm... still thinking about the way caleb said astrid was very handsome.... and then jester asking if was she a boy and him going no she is a girl. just handsome. just thinking of astrid's specializing in illusionary magic and still showcasing her scars. thinking of astrid taking lead while dancing. thinking of astrid being cutting and smart and so deeply strong. thinking of astrid who used poison and had a 5 minute breakdown in an alley. thinking of astrid punching the ground in rage, grieving the catharsis she had been on stand by for, the promised relief that was her driving force. thinking of astrid, strong and smart and handsome, coming back to the temple. thinking of astrid always i think

684 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

#2

tapes this to my wall keeps it on my wallet etc etc

1,042 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

how fucking special it is the moment when fjord breaks his pact & the immediate response of the nein, offering up their tools without being asked, without second thought, one after the other. how special their little family is. my heart is twice its size

1,374 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[smonk-wonk]

Me after my lobotomy thinking trans women are respected more than cis women because my trash fucking opinion was very aggressively disagreed with by a Spooky Wooky Woke Mafia Anti Free Speech Liberal Feminist.

Like this probably didn't happen but I'll humor this totally real Tumblr story. If it happened firstly that's fucking stupid why did you lie about being a trans woman? Because you were that sure you'd get more respect if you lied about where you're coming from? "I don't remember exactly how I snuck it in the conversation" that's funny because I can't think of a way to appropriately fit that into the conversation without making it appear relevant to the conversation. So it's a good thing you established that to ensure no one questioned the fact that this wouldn't make sense to bring up. That is unless being used to somehow weaponize this identity that you're lying about having.

Also you're twisting the narrative to fit the way that you see trans women. They didn't see you as a powerful man with a superior opinion. A cis man giving their take on feminism speaking over everyone else would not be taken the same. This very real Liberal Feminist wouldn't likely, reasonably change her mind if she felt a "man" was speaking over her. In fact if you instead lied about being a cis man and said your pfp is your partner or some shit I don't see a reason why that would make her feel you more worthy of respect in that situation, reasonably. If your point was men get more respect you should've just done that- called yourself a man and seen how that went. Oh but that wouldn't fit this stupid fucking narrative that trans women are the enemy would it? The argument that they're equal to men would fall apart when they're not treated equally (they are not at all) wouldn't it?

Like you weren't being shit on for your opinion by a cis woman because you're a cis woman you fucking goofball. It's a shit fucking opinion acting like drag is this horrible disrespectful thing that perpetuates misogyny. That it's basically blackface but like, for women. Lobotomized take. And before "i DiDn'T sAy ThAt" it is describing it just as one would blackface, as if they are both problematic and for the same reasons. Blackface is what a caricature of an oppressed minority is. Yknow why though? Because it was always historically intentionally used to satirize and portray blackness as something to look down upon and laugh at and satirize. A caricature of women would be if the point was for drag queens to get up on stage and not feel good about expressing and celebrating femininity but rather act in an exaggerated manner that intentionally satirizes and makes fun of it and by extension, women. If you're going to call it a caricature of women then I can't ignore the parallel in that there is in fact a demographic that is very offensive to alter your appearance to imitate but doing so is also an offensive and oppressive practice. But the point of blackface is to be a satirical caricature of a group of people, which not the same point as drag. In fact it's the opposite and if you asked everyone at a drag show how they feel about women and femininity you would not get the same response as asking how they felt about black people and their community at a minstrel show. If you were wondering why your opinion is trash and makes no sense

But anyway, in this situation a change of tone from the other side would probably indicate that she began to consider that maybe you came from a place of perceiving this as transphobia because you lied during an argument and made your trans identity that doesn't exist relevant in said argument. I mean bringing it up in this conversation would imply that your identity as a trans woman has to do with how you feel here. Wouldn't be a stretch to think you were implying transphobia in sharing that honest detail because otherwise there's no reason to. Either way her reasoning kinda wouldn't matter because I can guarantee you it wouldn't have been "Oh shit a man, I'd better shut up and listen to him!". Which makes your point fall apart

They didn't respect you "as a man" because you weren't being seen as a man. Do you think if you debated with a cis man and said you were a trans woman he would respect you more than a cis woman but still regard you as a man? Do you live in a timeline where the only respected feminist voices are that of people who are designated male at birth and cis women are told to shut up about feminism and know their place? Anyway this one person who again probably doesn't exist but sure whatever, doesn't qualify as a large enough sample size to imply a generalization. That this is the Liberal Feminist Mindset.

Back when I had a Facebook account I once commented that I thought drag queens were misogynistic caricatures of women and this liberal pseudo-feminist came down on me very agressively like I was a piece of shit for thinking that and we ended up debating the pressure of femininity on women and I don't remember exactly how I snuck it in the conversation but I said I was a trans woman and her tone completely changed it was insane. She calmed down instantly, became super respectful, all of the sudden I was allowed to disagree and she understood where I was coming from, even though my arguments hadn't changed at all. All it took was pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman. No more snarks, no more personal attacks, no more rudeness. My friends saw the conversation and were bewildered as well. I was only allowed a feminist opinion if I pretended it came from a man. I was only treated with empathy and respect when I pretended I was a man. Ridiculous.

[thedealsdairy]

Cosmo and Wanda Costume: A Magical Duo for Halloween 2024

When it comes to iconic cartoon duos, Cosmo and Wanda from The Fairly OddParents top the list for their humor, charm, and unmistakable magical flair. Dressing up as this whimsical pair is a fun and creative way to stand out at Halloween 2024. Whether it's for a couple's costume, friends, or even a family group theme, the Cosmo and Wanda costume will surely make you the stars of any party. To make the experience even more magical, don’t forget to use a halloween promo code for your costume shopping needs, ensuring you get the best deals without breaking the bank!

The Timeless Appeal of Cosmo and Wanda

Cosmo and Wanda, the fairy godparents to young Timmy Turner, have been a beloved part of pop culture since The Fairly OddParents debuted in 2001. Their humorous antics and bright green and pink appearances make them the perfect inspiration for a colorful, nostalgic Halloween costume. In fact, the popularity of Cosmo and Wanda has only grown, especially in recent years as millennials and Gen Z have embraced nostalgic characters for their Halloween outfits.

Interesting Fact:

In a 2023 survey by Pop Culture Halloween, cartoon character costumes saw a 25% increase in popularity, with Cosmo and Wanda ranking in the top 10 favorite couples’ costumes.

Why Cosmo and Wanda Costumes are Perfect for Halloween 2024

The charm of a Cosmo and Wanda outfit lies in its simplicity and vibrant appeal. With just a few key accessories—like wands, wings, and the right hair colors—you can easily transform into these fairy godparents. Plus, this costume idea works for couples, friends, or even as part of a larger group or family of 3 Halloween costumes, where one can dress as Timmy Turner to complete the look.

Key Costume Elements:

Cosmo: Green hair, white shirt, black pants, and a yellow crown.

Wanda: Pink hair, yellow shirt, black skirt, and a matching yellow crown.

Don’t forget their signature wands!

DIY Cosmo and Wanda Attire Tips

Creating your own Cosmo and Wanda costumes at home is not only fun but also budget-friendly. Here are a few DIY tips to make it even easier:

1. Hair Dye or Wigs

To really nail the look, invest in temporary hair dye or colorful wigs. Cosmo’s green hair and Wanda’s pink locks are key to their iconic appearance.

2. Crowns and Wands

You can easily make the signature fairy crowns using yellow foam sheets or cardboard painted gold. For the wands, grab some star-shaped cutouts and attach them to sticks or dowels.

3. Fairy Wings

Pick up a pair of small fairy wings to really capture the magical essence of Cosmo and Wanda. These are often available at Halloween stores, or you can make your own with wire and sheer fabric.

Couple and Group Costume Ideas Featuring Cosmo and Wanda

If you're planning to attend Halloween 2024 as a duo or group, Cosmo and Wanda can fit seamlessly into a larger costume theme. Here are a few ideas to level up your Halloween game:

1. Timmy Turner and Friends

Pair your Cosmo and Wanda costumes with someone dressed as Timmy Turner, and you have an instantly recognizable group costume. Add more friends as characters like Vicky the babysitter or Jorgen Von Strangle for an even bigger group ensemble.

2. Other Magical Couples

Cosmo and Wanda can be the centerpiece of a larger magical theme, alongside other famous duos like Eleven Stranger Things costume or even characters from the wednesday addams costume realm for a quirky twist.

Halloween 2024 Costume Trends

Halloween 2024 promises to bring even more exciting trends, with nostalgia and pop culture dominating the costume scene. Beyond Cosmo and Wanda, here are a few other popular costume ideas:

1. Wednesday Addams Costume

With the massive success of Netflix’s Wednesday, the Wednesday Addams costume is sure to be a huge hit for Halloween 2024. From her gothic pigtails to her all-black attire, this is a character costume that always delivers.

2. Ghostbusters Costume

The nostalgia wave continues with the classic Ghostbusters costume. Whether going as an individual or a group, this costume never fails to be a crowd-pleaser at Halloween parties.

3. Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader Costume

If you want to bring the spirit of sports to Halloween, the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader costume is a fun, energetic choice that’s always in style.

Spooky Makeup Ideas for Your Apparel

While Cosmo and Wanda are known for their simple looks, adding a bit of creativity with Halloween makeup ideas can take your costume to the next level. Here are a few ideas to make your magical fairy look pop:

Glitter Fairy Makeup: Add a touch of sparkle to your look with glittery eyeshadow and highlighter for a whimsical effect.

Bold Eyebrows: Cosmo’s and Wanda’s exaggerated eyebrows are part of their charm—don’t be afraid to overdo it with some colorful face paint.

Fairy Dust Accents: Add a sprinkling of gold or silver face glitter to complete the magical vibe of your costume.

Halloween 2024: More than Just Costumes

Halloween 2024 is shaping up to be a year of fun, creativity, and spooky excitement. Whether you’re dressing up as Cosmo and Wanda or going for something more intense like the Slenderman costume, Halloween Town or Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights, there’s no shortage of ways to celebrate. Be sure to check out the latest deals, events, and Disney Halloween sale offers to get everything you need for the perfect spooky season.

Special Deals and Discounts

As Halloween 2024 approaches, remember to take advantage of various promotions and discounts. Utilizing special offers can help save money on costumes, decorations, and party supplies, ensuring a fun-filled spooky season without breaking the bank.

Where to Buy

For those who prefer ready-made costumes, there’s no need to worry! Numerous online retailers offer Cosmo and Wanda costumes for all ages. To find the best deals, check out Dealszo, where shoppers can easily browse sales and promotions to maximize savings on their purchases.

Conclusion: Embrace the Magic of Cosmo and Wanda

Dressing up as Cosmo and Wanda for Halloween 2024 is the perfect way to bring a touch of magic and humor to the holiday. Whether you choose to DIY your costumes or buy them ready-made, this duo offers a unique, nostalgic, and fun option for couples, friends, or even family-themed costumes. With their bright colors, fairy wings, and playful personalities, Cosmo and Wanda will light up any Halloween party!

So, grab your wands, get your fairy wings ready, and step into the magical world of The Fairly OddParents this Halloween!

[full-potential]

Embracing the Magic in the Mundane: Cultivating Awe and Appreciation in Everyday Life

In today's fast-paced world, it's easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle, often overlooking the magic that exists in the mundane. Our lives are filled with extraordinary moments, yet we sometimes fail to recognize and appreciate them fully. How can we create more magical moments and lift ourselves and others out of the ordinary, fostering a sense of awe and appreciation for the life we have? First, it's essential to have the intention to recognize that life is short. We won't be here forever, and the relationships we have—with people and ourselves—are the things we'll cherish most. Our bodies are ever-changing, and we should rejoice in our health and the journey that led us to where we are today. The very fact that we exist, that we are alive and capable, is a miracle in itself, a testament to the magical reality we inhabit. To foster this sense of magic, we must start with an awareness of our own mortality. Understanding that our time is limited and that those we love won't always be with us can help us cherish each moment, deepening our gratitude for the present without needing to change or control it. This subtle appreciation allows us to enjoy life's beauty without attachment, much like admiring a flower on its stem without plucking it. With this awe and appreciation as our foundation, we can cultivate the magic in our everyday lives through the following practices: - Mindfulness: Be present in every moment, giving your full attention to the task at hand, the people you interact with, and your experiences. - Gratitude: Make gratitude a daily practice, listing things you're thankful for each day to foster an attitude of appreciation. - Connection: Build deep connections with others by sharing your experiences, thoughts, and feelings, helping them see the beauty in their own lives. - Self-compassion: Treat yourself with kindness and understanding, embracing your struggles and setbacks as part of your growth and journey. - Creativity: Engage in creative pursuits that bring you joy, allowing you to tap into the magic within and share it with the world. - Laughter: Find humor in everyday situations, reminding yourself that there's magic even in life's imperfections. - Nature: Connect with the natural world to rekindle your sense of wonder and see the magic in your surroundings. By incorporating these practices into your daily life, you'll create a balance between the magical and the practical. This balance allows you to appreciate the extraordinary in the ordinary and live a life filled with awe, gratitude, and joy. Remember, while planning for the future is essential, it doesn't have to come at the expense of appreciating the present. Be grateful for the opportunities, resources, and help available to you, and relish the process of growth and the unfolding of life's magic. --- In the midst of life's mundane, Lies magic, waiting to be claimed, A world of wonder to explore, With awe and gratitude at its core. Embrace the fleeting dance of time, With every breath, a chance to find, The beauty in each moment shared, A life of love and joy declared. With mindful steps, we walk each day, In gratitude, we find our way, Connecting hearts, we share our light, A world of magic, shining bright. Self-compassion guides our quest, Through struggles, setbacks, we are blessed, With growth and learning, we embrace, The magic of our life's own grace. Creative sparks ignite our soul, In dance and song, we're free to stroll, Through realms of beauty, we unveil, A life where magic will prevail. Laughter echoes through the air, In imperfections, we find our flair, The magic in life's twists and turns, A lesson that we all must learn. In nature's arms, we find our peace, A sense of wonder, never ceased, The magic in the earth and sky, A constant source of love's supply. So let us weave this tapestry, Of awe, appreciation, and mystery, Embracing life's magic, we shall see, A world transformed by love's decree. Read the full article

[mxnxdrama]

The faint hitch was all the answer she needed. Oh how wondrous! Oh how joyous! She didn't even needed the answer she had gotten from him, but the mere fact alone that he considered such thoughts, that such ideas were concocted in his mind alone was enough to make her already feel giddy all over again. She need not say it, as it was already painted on her face, too.

'I hate how it's pretty damn freeing.' he says, as if he was alluding to such feeling of liberation like it was a drug. A forbidden fruit that he might not be able to get enough of, if he were to finally give in and have a taste of such tempting delight. It was both tempting and maddening for him, apparently, especially since he mentioned that he's going to also need every bit of what it can supply.

Truly joy, in its rawest form, holds no moral banner altogether. No justifications, no explanations. Its just as is. Joy is the medium for what lies within the self to be able to manifest.

And thus, to Sparkle, joy is the greatest, most effective liberator.

"Oh, but it is you who decided to focus on me, no~?" She took his counter argument with stride, twisting it in a way that it would rebound back to him. "I didn't actively call you out, yet you were the one who seem so eager to notice me at any given moment, at any given place where we're both at. Is it morbid curiosity? Perverse infatuation? Or perhaps at the core, you simply just don't want me to escape your sights? I wonder which is it, little racoon~? Why don't you humor this Fool with an answer?"

She knew what she was doing, after all, haunting Caelus wherever he goes. Not a moment that the Trailblazer wouldn't be able to see, hear, nor even feel her. She made sure that even amidst the reverie, smokes and mirrors of the Dreamscape, he would end up finding Sparkle almost any time, almost any where, sticking out like a sore thumb. A shade of twisted, alluring crimson contrasting the golden splendor of Penacony.

"It certainly makes you want to try weeding me out, hm~? Or maybe at the very least knock me down a peg, I wonder~?"

Further temptations were sung unto him, like the call of sparrow's song, as the one responsible for such instigation had a smile laced with strychnine on her face, strategically used to make the thorns prick on him further.

Slender fingers reaching for another pizza slice, she took another bite from the new piece, humming as she waited for Caelus to answer, all while further tempting him not with words at the moment, but by action, as she would now sit on the railing of the building they've found themselves in, leaning backwards just enough that all it takes is just one small nudge from an external source for her to plummet downwards to her certain doom, yet it was also noticeable that her display of balance is what also prevents her from accidentally making herself fall, unless an outside force would dictate it.

Again, an exposure of her own vulnerability before him, seemingly making it easy if he ever so wanted to succumb to those whispers in deep recesses of his mind.

The internal conflict she's driving him in this twisted intimacy of theirs was one thing she can feel giddy about, but the fact that he was able to also resist such maddening temptations to act out on said thoughts he was having so far? Now that sparks quite a raw form of joy in her at the meantime.

"Or maybe there's a third option?" She finally spoke. After all, there is always an underlying option amidst the already given ones. "Maybe you see Miss Sparkle as a proverbial light amidst this dazzling abyss of smoke and mirrors? A firefly, to light the blinding darkness of the Dreamscape, hmmm~?"

Another methodical choice of words, as always, knowing which ones to use to press on his buttons, to make him tick, winding him up, like the tin soldier she called him during that one first time encounter of theirs without any of her impersonations in that shady alleyway, wherein she managed to dig her manicured nails onto him via her words alone.

Charms?

As! If!

The way she held those finely manicured nails underneath muscle and sinew, it agitated him, that same brand that finds itself breathing the oddest sense of clarity as happenstance began to bleed into the concept of circumstance. For an instant he's stunned, that rapidly catching up mind forgetting the exact rationale as to why they're meeting up in such ways.

It wasn't the allure of those lethal eyes, crimson and luminous, grafted from every warning of what to avoid while looking utterly appetizing to a remote, sacred part of the mind. (A part that wishes to risk ruining it all.) "Don't forget that a raccoon's taste are naturally trashy, this kind of route leads to a two way street." He bites back, easing up from gritting his teeth as another frustrated exhale presses from his lungs.

Just seeing that she's at least keeping hale and hearty was good. By no means can it, nor should it be from a measure of genuine care, it was a matter of business.

A perfect way to explain it within his mind.

"If we're going to be workin' together more, I'm the sort that needs to shatter a few barriers." Comes his curt response.

A more conscious effort had to be made to deny the bizarre.. curiosity.

Thus, he listens. A colorful sprawl being made and woven by Sparkle's hands as she begins a new project. A way to give him a leans to actually understand what led them to this point. Examples find themselves wide and based in familiarity, recent experiences, secret thoughts, multiple layers that truly were no similar from the dazzling and dizzying nightmares she could concoct.

Joy. It held no moral banner. No, it speaks, giving many of the familiar and repressed parts of the self such an ample chance to breathe. The soda within his grip settled to the table as he turned to her fully.

Daring to look a sweet, madness inducing brand of poison in those pearly crimson eyes.

"......."

He couldn't resist the stir of tension that rolled up his arm, prompting him to form a fist as her intent in tone grew hauntingly familiar. Many barking, snapping emotions in the back of his mind being rattled at the cage, only to be drawn to a stunned loss once her hands had sought his own. The initial confusion was so painfully genuine upon the Trailblazer's face, only for his breathing to faintly hitch the instant she welcomed her vulnerability into the consuming heat of his grip. It was slotted almost a little too perfectly as she spoke while settled in his shadow.

"You.." His voice clipped itself, lost at how the grating heat of their prior excursion drew forth in his mind, thorny and aching. Yet here those emotions were, juxtaposed by the soft warmth of her neck, the thrum of life, all of these small signs underneath the maddened whimsy of those eyes. The will it took to resist the impulsive, instinctive pull was maddeningly high. What should've been an advantageous clutch was rendered to a soft squeeze, the sort easily confused for tender with the way those fingers shakily glided across her neck to drink in the experience.

That very thumb swept along her jawline in a slow, marveling fashion, as if sculpting a part of that very curiosity upon her body.

...What in the fuck was she doing to his mind?

The way she faced the Destruction, welcoming that scalding presence that's carefully honed to her figure, it was a brand of acceptance alien to the power that led to the downfall of countless beings.

What Sparkle welcomed was a hand that held its own legion of shattered bodies and demonic entities in its wake.

Was this joy? The alien liberation of restraint for him? How for an instant, the darkest parts chained by a tempered will could taste the industrial, dreamy air of Penacony?

Blinking once, twice, reality seems to swing back with fervor as it kicks him in the lungs, causing him to shake his head from whatever unseen thoughts that had enticed.

The idea of annihilating her wasn't supposed to have any tender twists.

"And.. It's that simple." He manages to bite out, batting down that impulse to want to reach for her once again. "Sparkle. For an instant anyone would buy ya have a damn death wish. Beyond that? This feeling of yours.." There's a pause, his tongue tensed within his mouth as he tries to draw forth the words.

"I hate how it's pretty damn freeing. Beyond that, how I'm going to need every bit of what it can supply."

....

"And aren't you one to talk?" He'd begin anew with an immediate counter. "Someone like you sure as hell lets them be found when you feel like it. Prancing around in spots I can sense you, that damn tune you be humming, now how exactly am I supposed to take that from a thorn in my side?"