#its okay it looks beautiful truly a masterpiece

[bunnies-p1tst0p]

Him singing happy birthday to her, even going off to find a cupcake and candle. Ugh! That shit had me genuinely tearing up, like no joke

Max leans forward, his expression earnest. “Try me. I want to hear all about it.”

Max listens intently, asking questions and showing genuine curiosity.

- He truly wants to know everything

Without really noticing, you both shift positions throughout the night. Max leans back against the headboard, and you mirror him. Your shoulders are pressed together, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

-Kicking my feet rn

You sigh, reaching out to touch one of the velvety petals. “It’s just ... I’ve told Charles a hundred times that I don’t like roses. They’re not my favorite flower. But every time he needs to apologize or wants to do something nice, it’s always roses.”

-Oh gosh Charles. Fr?!

Max shakes his head firmly. “No. You don’t have to forgive them right away just because they made a grand gesture. It’s okay to make them work for your forgiveness.”

“Then don’t,” Max says simply. “Take the time you need. They can wait.”

“It’s not selfish to prioritize your own feelings and well-being. You matter, Y/N. Your feelings matter.”

-

THIS THIS THIS

Max’s expression softens, a tender smile playing at his lips. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I ... I care about you, Y/N. A lot.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “I care about you too,” you admit.

-EHHHHHHH

“Maybe because he was there when we weren’t,” he says softly.

-YUP YUPPPPO

“No,” you confirm. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate nice things. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about him actually listening to me, actually seeing me as a person and not just ... his kid sister who can be bought off.”

-Charles..

You nod, his words resonating with you. “You’re right. I’ll keep the bracelet ... but everything else goes back.”

-YUP AS U SHPULD

just maybe, you’ve found someone who sees you for exactly who you are.

-YESSSSSS

When it’s time to leave, Charles stands up, hesitating for a moment before opening his arms. “Can I ...”

You nod, stepping into his embrace. Charles holds you tight, realizing how long it’s been since he’s really hugged you like this.

-Sooo glad they could make up! So glad she stood her ground and he finally listened

Charles jumps to his feet, letting out a whoop that echoes through the auditorium. “That’s my sister!” He shouts, drawing startled looks from nearby attendees.

Lorenzo and Arthur quickly join in, their cheers mixing with Charles’. Max and Pascale stand too, clapping enthusiastically.

-OMG THEY ALL WERE THERE AND CHEERED HER ON

You glance around the car — at Charles and Arthur bickering good-naturedly in the back seat, at your mother chatting happily with Lorenzo who’s driving, and finally at Max beside you, his hand warm in yours. Your family, in all its chaotic, loving glory.

And as the car winds its way through the streets of Monaco, towards a future bright with possibility, you know that it’s true. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, surrounded by love, with the stars stretching out endlessly before you.

-Bout to cry again.

THIS WAS A MASTERPIECE AS ALWAYS. THANK YOU BEAUTIFUL AUTHOR FOR YOUR BEAUTIFUL WORK!!!!!!!!

Little Star

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Summary: you’ve grown used to being overshadowed by your older brother, merely a distant star that seems dull in comparison to the sun of Maranello … and then Max happens

Based on this request

The sun dips low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the paddock of the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. The air still buzzes with excitement from the day’s race, but behind the Ferrari hospitality unit, a different energy permeates the air.

You lean against the cool metal wall, sliding down until you’re sitting on the concrete, knees pulled to your chest. Tears stream silently down your face as you struggle to catch your breath between sobs. The sounds of celebration echo in the distance, a stark contrast to your solitude.

Footsteps approach, and you hastily wipe at your eyes, hoping to erase any evidence of your breakdown. A familiar figure rounds the corner, stopping short when he spots you.

“Hey,” Max Verstappen says, his brow furrowing with concern. “Are you alright?”

You force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine,” you insist, your voice wavering slightly. “Just ... needed some air.”

Max doesn’t buy it for a second. He crouches down beside you, his blue eyes searching your face. “You don’t look fine,” he says gently. “What’s going on?”

You bite your lip, debating whether to confide in him. After a moment, you sigh. “It’s stupid,” you mumble.

“If it’s making you cry, it’s not stupid,” Max counters. He settles down next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “Come on, talk to me.”

You take a shaky breath. “It’s my birthday,” you admit quietly.

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. “Today? Why aren’t you celebrating?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Because everyone forgot,” you explain, fresh tears welling up. “Charles won the race, and ... I’m happy for him, I really am. But it’s like I don’t even exist when he’s around, you know?”

Max nods slowly, understanding dawning on his face. “That must be really tough,” he says softly.

You nod, sniffling. “I’ve always felt like I was in his shadow, but today ... it just hit me harder, I guess. Even my mom forgot.”

“That’s not okay,” Max says firmly. “Your birthday should be special, no matter what else is happening.”

You shrug, picking at a loose thread on your jeans. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“No, it’s not fine,” Max insists. He stands up suddenly, determination etched on his face. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Before you can protest, he’s gone, jogging away towards the paddock. You’re left alone again, wondering what he’s up to.

True to his word, Max returns a few minutes later, slightly out of breath and holding something behind his back. “Close your eyes,” he instructs with a grin.

Curious, you comply. There’s a rustling sound, and then Max’s voice rings out, clear and slightly off-key: “Happy birthday to you ...”

Your eyes fly open in surprise. Max stands before you, holding a small cupcake with a single candle stuck in the frosting. His face is illuminated by the flickering flame as he continues to sing.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/N, happy birthday to you!”

Emotion wells up in your chest, a lump forming in your throat. “Max,” you whisper, overwhelmed. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He crouches down, carefully balancing the cupcake. “Of course I did,” he says softly. “Everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday. Now make a wish and blow out your candle.”

You close your eyes, thinking for a moment before leaning forward to extinguish the tiny flame. When you open them again, Max is beaming at you.

“What did you wish for?” He asks, settling back down beside you and offering you the cupcake.

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

Max laughs, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Fair enough. So, twenty-two, huh? How does it feel to be so old?”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help chuckling. “Says the guy who’s practically ancient at twenty-six.”

“Hey!” Max protests, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I’m in my prime.”

The banter feels natural, and you find yourself relaxing for the first time all day. You take a bite of the cupcake, savoring the sweetness. “This is really good,” you mumble around a mouthful of frosting. “Where did you even find it?”

Max grins mischievously. “I have my sources. Can’t reveal all my secrets, can I?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Thank you, Max. Really. This ... it means a lot.”

His expression softens. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry the rest of your family forgot. That’s not fair to you.”

You sigh, your momentary happiness fading slightly. “It’s not their fault. Charles had a big win today, and-”

“Stop,” Max interrupts gently. “You don’t have to make excuses for them. Your feelings are valid.”

You blink, surprised by his directness. “I ... I guess I’m just used to it,” you admit. “It’s always been about Charles. Even before he got into F1, he was the golden child. I love him, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes ...”

“Sometimes you want to be seen too,” Max finishes for you. You nod, grateful that he understands.

“Exactly. And it’s not just Charles. Arthur’s always been following in his footsteps, and Lorenzo ... well, he’s the oldest. I’m just ... there.”

Max frowns. “That’s not true. You’re your own person, with your own talents and dreams. Have you talked to them about how you feel?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to make them feel bad. Especially Charles. He works so hard, and he deserves his success.”

“His success doesn’t diminish your worth,” Max says firmly. “You deserve to be celebrated too.”

Tears prick at your eyes again, but for a different reason this time. “Thank you,” you whisper. “I don’t think anyone’s ever put it quite like that before.”

Max smiles softly. “Well, it’s true. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty amazing.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “You barely know me,” you point out.

“I know enough,” Max counters. “I know you’re kind enough to put your family’s happiness before your own. I know you’re strong enough to handle being overlooked without becoming bitter. And I know you’ve got a great taste in cupcakes.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

Max grins, clearly pleased to have made you smile. “So, birthday girl, what do you want to do now? The night is young, and I happen to know where they keep the good champagne around here.”

You hesitate, glancing towards the paddock where you can still hear the sounds of celebration. “I don’t know ... I should probably go find my family.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “On your birthday? Come on, live a little. They can wait.”

A spark of rebellion ignites in your chest. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s do it.”

Max jumps to his feet, offering you his hand. “That’s the spirit! First stop, champagne. Then, who knows? Maybe we’ll steal a golf cart and go joyriding around the track.”

You take his hand, allowing him to pull you up. “Is that even allowed?”

Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Probably not. But it’s your birthday, so I think we can bend the rules a little.”

As you follow Max towards the paddock, a warmth spreads through your chest that has nothing to do with the lingering summer heat. For the first time in years, you feel seen. Appreciated. Special.

“Hey, Max?” You say, causing him to pause and look back at you.

“Yeah?”

You smile, genuine and bright. “Thank you. For everything.”

Max’s expression softens. “Anytime,” he says softly. “Now come on, birthday girl. Let’s make this a night to remember.”

As you walk side by side into the fading light, you can’t help but feel that this birthday might just be the start of something new. Something exciting. Something uniquely yours.

And for once, you’re not thinking about Charles, or Arthur, or anyone else. You’re just thinking about you, and the possibilities that stretch out before you like an open road.

Happy birthday indeed.

***

The Ferrari hospitality suite thrums with energy, laughter and music spilling out into the warm Italian night. Charles Leclerc stands at the center of it all, a wide grin plastered across his face as he basks in the glow of his hard-fought victory. Champagne flows freely, and the air is thick with the scent of celebration.

“To Charles!” Someone shouts, raising a glass. The room erupts in cheers, and Charles feels a swell of pride in his chest.

“Speech! Speech!” The crowd chants, and Charles laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, clearing his throat. “I just want to say thank you to everyone here. This win ... it’s not just mine. It’s ours. The team, the mechanics, the engineers, the strategists ... we did this together.”

More cheers erupt, and Charles feels a hand clap him on the back. He turns to see his teammate grinning broadly.

“Well said, amigo,” Carlos says, slinging an arm around Charles’ shoulders. “You drove like a champion today.”

Charles beams, the praise from his teammate adding to the euphoria of the moment. “Thanks, Carlos. Couldn’t have done it without you pushing me.”

Carlos laughs, taking a swig of his drink. “Always happy to provide motivation. Oh, hey, before I forget — can you pass on my birthday wishes to Y/N? I meant to find her earlier, but things got a bit crazy.”

The words hit Charles like a bucket of ice water. His smile freezes, his eyes widening in horror. “W-what?” He stammers, hoping he’s misheard.

Carlos frowns, noticing the sudden change in Charles’ demeanor. “Your sister? It’s her birthday today, right? Her 22nd?”

Charles feels the room spin around him. How could he have forgotten? His little sister’s birthday, on the same day as his big win. The realization crashes over him in waves of guilt and shame.

“Charles?” Carlos prompts, concern evident in his voice. “You okay, mate?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of shock. “I ... I forgot,” he whispers, more to himself than to Carlos. “How could I forget?”

Carlos’ eyes widen in understanding. “Oh, shit,” he mutters. “You didn’t remember?”

Charles runs a hand through his hair, panic rising in his chest. “I was so focused on the race, and then the win ... God, I’m such an idiot.”

He scans the room frantically, hoping against hope that he’ll spot you among the partygoers. But of course, you’re not there. Why would you be, when your own family forgot your birthday?

“I need to find her,” Charles says, already moving towards the exit. “I need to apologize.”

Carlos nods, squeezing Charles’ shoulder supportively. “Go. I’ll cover for you here if anyone asks.”

Charles barely hears him, his mind racing as he pushes through the crowd. He bursts out of the hospitality suite, the cool night air a stark contrast to the stuffy interior.

“Y/N!” He calls out, his voice echoing in the near-empty paddock. But there’s no response.

Panic rising, Charles pulls out his phone, fumbling with the screen as he opens his contacts. He hits your name, holding the phone to his ear as it rings.

Once. Twice. Three times. Then, your voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Leave a message!”

Charles swears under his breath, ending the call. He tries again, and again, but each time it goes straight to voicemail.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters, pacing back and forth. Where could you be? Who would you have gone to when your family let you down?

A thought strikes him, and he quickly dials another number.

“Hello?” Arthur’s sleepy voice answers.

“Arthur!” Charles practically shouts. “Is Y/N with you?”

There’s a pause, then confusion in Arthur’s tone. “No? Why would she be? Aren’t you guys celebrating?”

Charles feels his heart sink even further. “Arthur, it’s her birthday. We forgot.”

“Shit,” Arthur breathes. “How did we ... God, we’re terrible brothers.”

“I know, I know,” Charles says, the guilt eating away at him. “I’m trying to find her now. Can you call Maman and Lorenzo, see if they’ve heard from her?”

“Yeah, of course,” Arthur agrees quickly. “I’ll call you back if I hear anything.”

Charles ends the call, his mind whirling. Where else could you be? He tries to think back to earlier in the day, wondering if he’d seen you at all after the race. But everything is a blur of champagne and celebration, and he realizes with a sickening jolt that he can’t remember the last time he actually spoke to you.

He’s about to start knocking on motorhome doors when another idea strikes him. Quickly, he opens the Life360 app on his phone. The family had started using it a few years back, mainly to keep track of each other during race weekends.

Charles waits impatiently for the app to load, praying that it will show your location. But when the map finally appears, his heart sinks. Your icon is greyed out, with a message underneath: “Location permissions turned off.”

“No, no, no,” Charles mutters, refreshing the app desperately. But the result is the same. You’ve deliberately turned off your location tracking.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. You didn’t just disappear — you chose to be unfindable. And it’s all his fault.

Charles slumps against the nearest wall, sliding down until he’s sitting on the ground. He puts his head in his hands, overwhelmed by the magnitude of his mistake.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers into the night. “I’m so, so sorry.”

As he sits there, memories flood his mind. Your proud smile when he won his first karting race. The way you’d curl up next to him during thunderstorms, seeking comfort. Your unwavering support through every step of his career, even when it meant less attention for you.

And how had he repaid that loyalty? By forgetting the one day that was supposed to be about you.

Charles’ phone buzzes, and he snatches it up eagerly. But it’s just a text from his mother:

Haven’t heard from Y/N. Is everything okay?

He stares at the message, unsure how to respond. How can he explain that he’s lost his little sister on her birthday?

Another text comes through, this time from Lorenzo:

No luck here either. What’s going on?

Charles takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He has to tell them the truth, no matter how much it hurts.

He creates a group chat with his mom, Lorenzo, and Arthur, his fingers shaking slightly as he types:

We forgot Y/N’s birthday. All of us. She’s not answering her phone and her location is turned off. I can’t find her anywhere.

The responses come in rapid succession:

Maman: Oh no. How could we forget?

Lorenzo: Shit. Have you checked with her friends?

Arthur: I’m on my way to the track now. We’ll find her.

Charles feels a mix of relief and shame. At least now everyone knows, and they can all work together to make things right. But the fact remains that they let you down in the first place.

He’s about to reply when he spots a familiar figure walking across the paddock. Max Verstappen, looking slightly disheveled and ... was that a touch of glitter on his cheek?

Without thinking, Charles jumps to his feet and runs over to his rival.

“Max!” He calls out, slightly out of breath. “Have you seen Y/N?”

Max turns, surprise evident on his face. Then, something else flickers in his eyes. Anger? Disappointment? It’s gone too quickly for Charles to be sure.

“Why?” Max asks, his tone cooler than usual. “Suddenly remembered she exists?”

The words sting, but Charles knows he deserves them. “Please, Max. I know I messed up. We all did. But I need to find her, to apologize.”

Max studies him for a long moment, as if weighing his options. Finally, he sighs. “She’s safe. That’s all you need to know right now.”

Relief washes over Charles, quickly followed by confusion. “You’ve seen her? Where is she?”

“I’m not telling you that,” Max says firmly. “She needed space, and after what happened, I don’t blame her.”

Charles feels a flare of frustration. “She’s my sister. I have a right to know where she is.”

“No,” Max counters, his blue eyes flashing. “You had a responsibility to remember her birthday. You didn’t. So now, you don’t get to demand anything.”

The words hit Charles like a slap. He opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. Max is right, as much as it pains him to admit it.

“Is she ... is she okay?” Charles asks quietly, all fight leaving him.

Max’s expression softens slightly. “She will be. Eventually. But Charles, you really hurt her. All of you did.”

Charles nods, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “I know. God, I know. I just want to make it right.”

“Then give her time,” Max advises. “And when she’s ready to talk, really listen to her. Don’t make excuses. Don’t try to justify it. Just listen.”

Charles nods again, feeling utterly defeated. “Will you ... will you tell her I’m sorry? That we’re all sorry?”

Max hesitates, then nods. “I will. But Charles? You need to do better. She deserves better.”

With that, Max turns and walks away, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts and regrets.

Charles pulls out his phone again, looking at the group chat with his family. He types out a message, his heart heavy:

Y/N is safe. A friend is looking out for her. We need to give her space, but when she’s ready to talk, we all need to be there. Really be there. We’ve got a lot to make up for.

As he hits send, Charles makes a silent promise to himself and to you. He’ll do better. He’ll be the brother you deserve. And somehow, someway, he’ll make this right.

But for now, all he can do is wait, and hope that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive them all.

***

The city lights twinkle below as Max leads you into his penthouse suite, the door clicking shut behind you. The space is modern and sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of Milan’s skyline.

“Make yourself at home,” Max says, gesturing around the room. “Are you hungry? I can order some room service if you want.”

You shake your head, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by the events of the day. “No, thanks. I’m okay.”

Max nods, studying your face with concern. “You sure? It’s been a long day.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that again.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence before Max clears his throat. “So, um, you can take the bed. I’ll crash on the couch.”

“Oh, no,” you protest immediately. “I can’t kick you out of your own bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “Absolutely not. It’s your birthday. You get the bed.”

You bite your lip, an idea forming. “We could ... share? I mean, if that’s okay with you. The bed looks plenty big enough.”

Max’s eyes widen slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure,” you say, surprising yourself with your boldness. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable?”

“No, no,” Max says quickly. “I’m fine with it if you are.”

You nod, and another silence falls. Max runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly unsure of himself.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” he suggests. “Or we could just talk, if you prefer.”

“Talking sounds nice,” you admit. “I’m not really in the mood for a movie.”

Max nods, gesturing towards the bed. “Shall we?”

You both settle onto the massive king-size bed, sitting cross-legged and facing each other. It’s oddly intimate, and you feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach.

“So,” Max begins, his blue eyes fixed on you. “Tell me something about yourself that isn’t related to racing or your family.”

You pause, caught off guard by the question. It’s been so long since someone asked about you, just you.

“Well,” you start hesitantly, “I’m actually studying to become an astrophysicist.”

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? That’s incredible! Why astrophysics?”

The enthusiasm in his voice makes you smile. “I’ve always been fascinated by space, you know? The idea that there’s so much out there we don’t understand ... it’s exciting.”

“That’s amazing,” Max says, genuinely impressed. “What kind of stuff are you studying right now?”

You laugh softly. “Are you sure you want to know? I might bore you with all the technical details.”

Max leans forward, his expression earnest. “Try me. I want to hear all about it.”

Encouraged by his interest, you begin to explain your current research project. As you talk, your hands move animatedly, your eyes lighting up with passion. Max listens intently, asking questions and showing genuine curiosity.

“... and that’s why understanding dark matter is so crucial,” you finish, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I kind of went off on a tangent there.”

Max shakes his head, smiling warmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s fascinating. I had no idea you were into all this. Why haven’t I heard about it before?”

Your smile falters slightly. “Oh, well ... it doesn’t really come up much. Everyone’s usually more interested in talking about racing.”

Max frowns. “But this is incredible. You’re studying to unravel the mysteries of the universe. That’s way cooler than driving in circles.”

You laugh, but there’s a hint of sadness in it. “Try telling that to my family. I think they see it as more of a hobby than a career path.”

“What?” Max looks genuinely shocked. “How can they not be incredibly proud? This is huge!”

You shrug, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. “I guess it’s just not as exciting as F1? It’s okay, though. I’m used to it.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “No, it’s not okay. Y/N, you’re brilliant. Your family should be shouting it from the rooftops.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you blink them back hastily. “Thanks, Max. That ... that means a lot.”

He reaches out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand over yours. “I mean it. And for what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is incredible.”

You look up, meeting his gaze. There’s a warmth there, an understanding that makes your heart skip a beat. Without really thinking about it, you shift closer to him.

Max seems to take this as an invitation, because he moves closer too. Soon, you’re sitting side by side, your shoulders touching.

“So,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. “What about you? Any secret passions outside of racing?”

Max chuckles. “Nothing as impressive as astrophysics, I’m afraid. But I do enjoy sim racing in my spare time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t that just more racing?”

“Hey, it’s completely different,” Max protests with a grin. “In sim racing, I can drive any car on any track. Even ones that don’t exist in real life.”

“Okay, okay,” you concede, laughing. “Tell me more about it.”

As Max launches into an explanation of his favorite sim racing setups, you find yourself relaxing more and more. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and playful debates.

Without really noticing, you both shift positions throughout the night. Max leans back against the headboard, and you mirror him. Your shoulders are pressed together, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“... and that’s why I think pineapple absolutely belongs on pizza,” Max finishes, looking at you expectantly.

You shake your head, grinning. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from a world champion. Your taste buds clearly can’t be trusted.”

“Oh, come on,” Max laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

“I have tried it,” you insist. “It’s an abomination.”

Max clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Y/N. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

The word ‘friends’ sends an odd pang through your chest. Is that what this is? It feels like more, somehow.

As if reading your thoughts, Max’s expression softens. He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is so gentle, so intimate, that it takes your breath away.

“Y/N,” he says softly. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “Me too,” you whisper.

There’s a moment of charged silence, and then Max is leaning in. You meet him halfway, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss.

It’s brief, just a fleeting press of lips, but it sends sparks shooting through your entire body. When you pull back, Max is looking at you with a mixture of wonder and uncertainty.

“Was that okay?” He asks, his voice husky.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Instead, you lean in again, capturing his lips in another kiss. This one is deeper, more assured. Max’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you melt into his touch.

When you finally break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Max rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing at his lips.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he admits.

You laugh softly. “Even when I was insulting your pizza preferences?”

“Especially then,” Max grins. “You’re cute when you’re indignant.”

You swat at his arm playfully, but you can’t keep the smile off your face. For the first time all day, you feel truly happy.

As the night wears on, you and Max continue to talk, trading stories and stealing kisses. Gradually, your positions shift again. Max lies down, and you curl up against his side, your head resting on his chest. His arm wraps around you, holding you close.

“Y/N?” Max says softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

“Hmm?” you mumble, feeling drowsy and content.

“Happy birthday,” he says. “I know it didn’t start out great, but I hope it got better.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, a warm smile spreading across your face. “It did,” you assure him. “Thanks to you.”

Max kisses your forehead gently. “Get some sleep,” he murmurs. “We can figure everything else out in the morning.”

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in Max’s arms, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this birthday wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, it might just be the start of something wonderful.

***

The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stir slowly, awareness creeping in as you feel a strong arm wrapped around your waist. For a moment, confusion sets in before the events of the previous night come rushing back.

You’re in Max Verstappen’s bed. And Max Verstappen is currently spooning you.

A smile tugs at your lips as you nestle back into his warmth, not quite ready to face the day. But fate, it seems, has other plans.

A sharp knock at the door jolts both of you awake. Max groans, burying his face in your hair.

“Room service?” You mumble, still half-asleep.

Max shakes his head, his voice gravelly with sleep. “Didn’t order any.”

The knock comes again, more insistent this time. With a sigh, Max untangles himself from you and slides out of bed.

“I’ll get it,” he says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You stay here.”

You nod, pulling the covers up to your chin and watching as Max pads to the door in his t-shirt and sweatpants. He opens it a crack, peering out.

“Can I help you?” He asks, confusion evident in his tone.

There’s a muffled response, and then Max is stepping back, opening the door wider. A hotel staff member enters, carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses.

“Delivery for Y/N Leclerc,” the staff member announces, looking around the room.

You sit up in bed, eyes wide. “That’s ... that’s me.”

The staff member nods, moving to set the bouquet on a nearby table. “Sign here, please,” he says, holding out a clipboard.

Still bewildered, you climb out of bed and make your way over, scrawling your signature on the form. The staff member thanks you and exits, leaving you and Max staring at the ostentatious display of flowers.

“Well,” Max says after a moment, “I guess your brother remembered after all.”

You let out a rueful laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, I guess he did.”

Max frowns, noting the lack of enthusiasm in your voice. “Aren’t you happy about it?”

You sigh, reaching out to touch one of the velvety petals. “It’s just ... I’ve told Charles a hundred times that I don’t like roses. They’re not my favorite flower. But every time he needs to apologize or wants to do something nice, it’s always roses.”

“Oh,” Max says softly, understanding dawning on his face. “So it’s less about you and more about what he thinks you should like.”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “Exactly. It’s like he doesn’t really listen, you know? He just does what he thinks is right without considering what I actually want.”

Max moves closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. “That must be frustrating,” he says gently.

You lean into him, grateful for the support. “It is. And I know I should be grateful. It’s a beautiful bouquet, and he’s trying. But ...”

“But it’s not what you want,” Max finishes for you. “And that matters.”

You look up at him, surprised by how well he understands. “Yeah, exactly.”

Max turns to face you fully, his blue eyes serious. “Y/N, listen to me. It’s okay to be upset about this. It’s okay to want your family to actually listen to you and consider your feelings.”

You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill over. “But they’re trying now. Shouldn’t I just forgive them and move on?”

Max shakes his head firmly. “No. You don’t have to forgive them right away just because they made a grand gesture. It’s okay to make them work for your forgiveness.”

“Really?” You ask, your voice small.

“Really,” Max assures you. “They hurt you, Y/N. They forgot your birthday and made you feel invisible. One bouquet of flowers — flowers you don’t even like — doesn’t erase that.”

You nod slowly, processing his words. “So what do I do?”

Max runs a hand through his hair, thinking. “Well, what do you want to do? How do you feel?”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Honestly? I’m not ready to see them yet. I know I’ll have to face them eventually, but right now ... I just can’t.”

“Then don’t,” Max says simply. “Take the time you need. They can wait.”

A weight lifts off your shoulders at his words. “You don’t think that’s selfish?”

Max cups your face in his hands, his gaze intense. “It’s not selfish to prioritize your own feelings and well-being. You matter, Y/N. Your feelings matter.”

Tears spill over then, and Max pulls you into a tight embrace. You bury your face in his chest, letting out all the hurt and frustration you’ve been holding in.

“Shh,” Max soothes, rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

After a few minutes, your sobs subside. You pull back slightly, wiping at your eyes. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I got your shirt all wet.”

Max chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I think I’ll survive. Feel better?”

You nod, offering him a watery smile. “Yeah, actually. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Max says softly. Then, a mischievous glint enters his eye. “So, what should we do with the roses? I vote we throw them off the balcony and watch them scatter in the wind.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest. “As tempting as that is, I don’t think hotel management would appreciate it.”

Max shrugs, grinning. “Their loss. We could always donate them to a hospital or something. Brighten someone else’s day.”

“That’s ... actually a really good idea,” you say, impressed. “We could do that.”

Max beams, clearly pleased with himself. “See? I’m not just a pretty face and fast driver.”

You roll your eyes fondly, but can’t suppress your smile. “Careful, Verstappen. Your ego’s showing.”

“You love it,” he teases, pulling you close again.

As you stand there in his arms, surrounded by the cloying scent of roses you don’t even like, you’re struck by how safe you feel. How understood.

“Max?” You say softly.

“Hmm?”

You pull back slightly to meet his gaze. “Thank you. For everything. For making my birthday special, for listening to me, for ... just being here.”

Max’s expression softens, a tender smile playing at his lips. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I ... I care about you, Y/N. A lot.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “I care about you too,” you admit.

For a moment, you just stare at each other, the air charged with unspoken emotions. Then, slowly, Max leans in. His lips meet yours in a soft, sweet kiss that makes your toes curl.

When you break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Max rests his forehead against yours, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek.

“So,” he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “What happens now?”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Honestly? I’m not sure. This is all happening so fast, and with everything going on with my family ...”

Max nods, understanding in his eyes. “We can take it slow,” he assures you. “There’s no rush.”

Relief washes over you. “Thank you,” you say softly. “I do want this — us. I just need some time to figure everything out.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Max says, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “For now, how about we get some breakfast? I’m starving.”

You laugh, grateful for the shift in mood. “Breakfast sounds perfect. But maybe we should change first? I’m not sure I want to face the paparazzi in yesterday’s clothes.”

Max grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I don’t know, I think you look pretty good in my t-shirt.”

You glance down, realizing for the first time that you’re indeed wearing one of Max’s shirts. A blush creeps up your cheeks. “When did that happen?”

“You got cold in the middle of the night,” Max explains, looking far too pleased with himself. “I offered you my shirt. You were very insistent that it was the most comfortable thing you’d ever worn.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god. Please tell me I didn’t say anything else embarrassing.”

Max laughs, gently prying your hands away from your face. “Nothing too bad. Though you did mention something about my waist being ‘unfairly perfect’. Your words, not mine.”

“Kill me now,” you mutter, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Max pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Never. I’m rather fond of you, embarrassing sleep talk and all.”

As you stand there in Max’s arms, the morning sun warming your skin and the scent of roses filling the air, you can’t help but feel a sense of hope. Yes, there’s still a lot to figure out — with your family, with Max, with your future. But for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

And that, you think, is the best birthday gift of all.

***

The private terminal of Milan Malpensa Airport buzzes with activity as the Leclerc family waits to board their chartered jet. Charles paces back and forth, his phone clutched tightly in his hand, eyes darting to the entrance every few seconds.

“Charles, honey, please sit down,” his mother, Pascale, says gently. “You’re making me nervous.”

Charles shakes his head, running a hand through his hair for what must be the hundredth time. “I can’t, Maman. Where is she? She should be here by now.”

Lorenzo exchanges a worried glance with Arthur. “Maybe she got held up in traffic?” He suggests, though his tone lacks conviction.

“For three hours?” Charles snaps, immediately regretting his harsh tone. “Sorry, I just ... I’m worried.”

Arthur stands up, placing a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “We all are. But Y/N’s an adult. She can take care of herself.”

Charles lets out a frustrated sigh. “I know that. But after yesterday ... we really messed up.”

“We did,” Pascale agrees softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “But we’ll make it right. We just need to talk to her.”

“If she ever shows up,” Charles mutters, resuming his pacing.

The minutes tick by agonizingly slow. Charles alternates between checking his phone and staring out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of you arriving. But the parking lot remains stubbornly devoid of your presence.

Finally, a staff member approaches the family. “Mr. Leclerc? The jet is ready for boarding. We need to depart soon to maintain our flight slot.”

Charles feels panic rising in his chest. “No, we can’t leave yet. My sister isn’t here.”

The staff member looks uncomfortable. “I understand, sir, but we have a schedule to keep. Perhaps your sister could take a commercial flight?”

“Absolutely not,” Charles says firmly. “We’re not leaving without her.”

Lorenzo steps in, ever the diplomat. “Is there any way we could delay for just a bit longer? It’s really important that we wait for our sister.”

The staff member hesitates, then nods. “I’ll see what I can do. But please understand, we can’t hold the slot indefinitely.”

As the employee walks away, Charles resumes his pacing with renewed vigor.

“This isn’t like her,” he mutters. “She wouldn’t just disappear without telling us.”

Arthur bites his lip, looking guilty. “Maybe ... maybe she’s still upset about yesterday?”

Charles stops in his tracks, turning to face his younger brother. “What do you mean?”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably. “Well, we did forget her birthday. And then when we remembered, we didn’t exactly handle it well. Those roses you sent? Y/N hates roses.”

Charles feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “She ... what? No, she loves roses. I always get her roses.”

“Because you always get her roses,” Lorenzo chimes in, realization dawning on his face. “Not because she actually likes them.”

Charles slumps into a nearby chair, head in his hands. “How did I not know that? What kind of brother am I?”

Pascale moves to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’ve all made mistakes. But we can fix this. We just need to talk to her.”

“If she’ll even talk to us,” Charles mumbles.

Just then, his phone buzzes. Charles nearly drops it in his haste to check the notification, hope flaring in his chest. But it’s not from you.

“It’s Max,” he says, frowning in confusion.

“Verstappen?” Arthur asks, leaning over to peek at the screen. “What does he want?”

Charles opens the message, his eyes widening as he reads it aloud:

“Y/N is with me. She’s safe and we’re flying back to Monaco together. She needs some space right now. Give her time.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Charles reads and rereads the message, trying to process what it means.

“She’s with Max?” Lorenzo finally says, breaking the silence. “Since when are they even friends?”

Charles shakes his head, still staring at his phone. “I don’t know. I ... I saw him last night. He knew where she was, but I thought it was just a spontaneous thing.”

“Well, at least we know she’s safe,” Pascale says, always trying to find the silver lining. “That’s the most important thing.”

But Charles can’t shake the feeling of unease settling in his stomach. “Why didn’t she come to us? Why Max, of all people?”

Arthur places a hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Maybe because he was there when we weren’t,” he says softly.

The words hit Charles like a physical blow. He knows Arthur is right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear.

“So what do we do now?” Lorenzo asks, looking around at his family.

Charles takes a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. “We do what Max said. We give her time.”

“But for how long?” Pascale asks, worry evident in her voice. “She’s our little girl. We can’t just leave her alone.”

“She’s not alone, Maman,” Charles says, surprised by the steadiness in his voice. “She’s with Max. And as much as it pains me to admit it, I think ... I think she might be better off with him right now.”

The family falls silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. The weight of their collective mistake hangs heavy in the air.

Finally, Charles stands up, squaring his shoulders. “We should board the jet. There’s nothing more we can do here.”

As they gather their belongings and make their way to the plane, Charles can’t help but replay Max’s message in his head. You’re with Max. You’re safe. You need space.

He tries to imagine you and Max together, and finds that he can’t. What could have happened in the span of one day to bring you two together? And more importantly, what had driven you away from your own family?

As he settles into his seat on the jet, Charles makes a silent promise to himself and to you. He’ll give you the space you need, but he won’t give up. He’ll find a way to make things right, to be the brother you deserve.

The jet takes off, carrying the Leclerc family back to Monaco. But for Charles, it feels like they’re leaving a piece of themselves behind in Milan. A piece that, he fears, might be harder to reclaim than he ever imagined.

Meanwhile, across the airport, you and Max are boarding his private jet. The contrast between the two scenes couldn’t be more stark.

“You okay?” Max asks softly as you settle into your seat.

You nod, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for ... well, everything.”

Max reaches over, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime. You know that.”

As the jet prepares for takeoff, you can’t help but think about your family. Are they worried? Angry? Do they even care?

“Max?” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

You turn to look at him, vulnerability shining in your eyes. “Did I do the right thing? Leaving without talking to them?”

Max considers your question carefully before answering. “I think you did what you needed to do for yourself. And that’s never wrong.”

His words settle over you like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “For understanding. For not pushing me to do what everyone else thinks I should do.”

Max smiles, a soft, genuine expression that makes your heart flutter. “That’s what ... friends are for, right?”

There’s a hesitation in his voice, a question in his eyes that makes you wonder if ‘friends’ is really the right word for what’s developing between you.

As the jet takes off, carrying you away from Milan and the chaos of the past day, you find yourself feeling something you haven’t felt in a long time: hope. Hope for a future where you’re seen, heard, and valued for who you are.

And as you glance at Max, his profile illuminated by the setting sun streaming through the window, you can’t help but wonder if he might be a bigger part of that future than you ever imagined.

The jet climbs higher, leaving the ground and all its complications behind. For now, at least, you’re free. Free to breathe, to think, to feel without the weight of expectations pressing down on you.

You close your eyes, letting out a long breath. Whatever comes next, you know one thing for certain: things will never be the same again. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what you need.

***

The sun is setting over Monaco, shining warmly through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Max’s penthouse apartment. You’re curled up on the plush sofa, a book in your lap, trying to lose yourself in the pages. But your mind keeps wandering, replaying the events of the past couple of days.

Max emerges from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in hand. “Thought you might need this,” he says, offering you one.

You smile gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma of hot chocolate. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs, settling down beside you. “I wanted to. How’re you holding up?”

You’re about to answer when the doorbell rings. Max frowns, glancing at his watch. “I’m not expecting anyone. Are you?”

You shake your head, a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach. Could it be your family? Are they here to confront you?

Max squeezes your hand reassuringly before getting up to answer the door. You hear muffled voices, then the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.

“Um, Y/N?” Max calls. “I think you might want to see this.”

Curiosity overcoming your apprehension, you make your way to the foyer. Your jaw drops at the sight that greets you.

The entire space is filled with bags. Not just any bags, but the kind that comes from the most exclusive boutiques in Monaco. Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel — the logos stare back at you from every direction.

“What ... what is all this?” You stammer, looking to Max for explanation.

He hands you a small envelope. “This came with it. It’s addressed to you.”

With trembling fingers, you open the envelope and unfold the note inside. You’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.

Y/N,

I know I messed up. We all did. I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday and for not being the brother you deserve. I hope these gifts can begin to make up for it. Please come home. We miss you.

Love,

Charles

You read the note twice, then a third time, disbelief turning to anger with each pass.

“He’s got to be kidding,” you mutter, crumpling the paper in your fist.

Max steps closer, concern etched on his face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “This,” you say, gesturing at the sea of designer bags, “is my brother’s idea of an apology. He thinks he can just ... buy me back with expensive gifts.”

Understanding dawns on Max’s face. “Ah. And I’m guessing that’s not going to work?”

“Not even close,” you say, shaking your head. “God, it’s like he doesn’t know me at all. I’m not one of his girlfriends who can be placated with a shopping spree.”

Max winces. “Ouch. Has he done this before?”

You nod, sinking down onto the nearest clear spot on the floor. “Every time he messes up with a girl, it’s the same routine. Flowers, jewelry, designer clothes. And it usually works, because the girls he dates ... well, they tend to be into that kind of thing.”

Max sits down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “But you’re not.”

“No,” you confirm. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate nice things. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about him actually listening to me, actually seeing me as a person and not just ... his kid sister who can be bought off.”

Max is quiet for a moment, then says softly, “You know, it’s okay to be angry about this. You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

His words break something open inside you. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over before you can stop them. “I just ... I thought he knew me better than this. I thought they all did.”

Max wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You lean into him, letting the tears fall freely now.

“It’s like they don’t even see me,” you choke out between sobs. “They see this idea of who they think I should be, but not ... not who I actually am.”

Max rubs soothing circles on your back, letting you cry it out. When your sobs finally subside, he hands you a tissue.

“Feel better?” He asks gently.

You nod, wiping your eyes. “A little. Sorry for breaking down on you like that.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “Don’t apologize. That’s what I’m here for.”

You offer him a watery smile, then turn back to survey the mountain of bags. “So ... what do I do with all this?”

Max considers for a moment. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You bite your lip, thinking. “Honestly? I want to send it all back. Show him that he can’t just throw money at the problem and expect it to go away.”

Max nods approvingly. “I think that’s a great idea. It sends a clear message.”

“You don’t think it’s too harsh?” You ask, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice.

“Not at all,” Max assures you. “You’re standing up for yourself, setting boundaries. That’s important.”

Emboldened by his support, you start rifling through the bags, curiosity getting the better of you. “I wonder what he even bought ... oh.”

You pull out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a delicate tennis bracelet. The diamonds catch the light, sparkling brilliantly.

“Wow,” Max breathes, leaning in for a closer look. “That’s ... that’s something.”

You nod, mesmerized by the way the bracelet shimmers. “It’s beautiful,” you admit softly.

Max watches you carefully. “You like it,” he observes.

You sigh, closing the box with a snap. “It doesn’t matter. It’s going back with everything else.”

“Why?” Max asks, genuine curiosity in his voice. “If you like it, why not keep it?”

You look at him, surprised. “But ... I thought you said sending it all back was a good idea?”

Max shrugs. “It is. But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep one thing if it genuinely makes you happy. You’re allowed to like nice things, Y/N. That doesn’t invalidate your feelings about the situation.”

You turn the box over in your hands, considering. “I don’t know ... wouldn’t keeping anything send the wrong message?”

“I think,” Max says slowly, “that the message you send depends more on what you say than what you keep or don’t keep. If you like the bracelet, keep it. But make sure Charles understands that a pretty piece of jewelry doesn’t fix the underlying issues.”

You nod, his words resonating with you. “You’re right. I’ll keep the bracelet ... but everything else goes back.”

As you start sorting through the bags, separating out what will be returned, you can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Max asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

You hold up the bracelet box. “I was just thinking ... it would be a shame to let something this pretty go to waste, right?”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Absolutely. It’s practically your duty to keep it. For the sake of the bracelet, of course.”

“Of course,” you agree, giggling. “I’m being completely selfless here.”

As you continue to sort through the gifts, occasionally showing Max particularly outrageous items (“A fur coat? In Monaco?”), you feel a weight lifting from your shoulders. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, you feel like you’re taking control of the situation.

“You know,” you say, folding a designer dress back into its bag, “I think I need to have a real conversation with Charles. With all of them, really.”

Max nods encouragingly. “I think that’s a great idea. What do you want to say?”

You take a deep breath, organizing your thoughts. “I want them to understand that I’m my own person, with my own dreams and desires. That I need them to see me, really see me, not just as Charles Leclerc’s little sister or as an extension of the family name.”

“That sounds perfect,” Max says softly. “You deserve to be seen for who you are.”

You smile at him, a rush of warmth flooding your chest. “Thank you. For everything. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you.”

Max reaches out, taking your hand in his. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. But I’m glad I could help.”

As you sit there, surrounded by discarded luxury goods, your hand in Max’s, you feel a sense of peace settling over you. You know the road ahead won’t be easy — confronting your family, establishing new boundaries, figuring out exactly where you stand with Max — but for the first time in a long time, you feel ready to face it all.

You slip on the tennis bracelet, admiring the way it catches the light. It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s also a reminder. A reminder that you’re worth more than grand gestures and expensive gifts. You’re worth being truly seen, truly heard, truly understood.

And as you look at Max, his blue eyes warm with understanding and something that might be more, you think that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found someone who sees you for exactly who you are.

***

The afternoon sun beats down on the streets of Monaco as Charles leans against his Ferrari, fidgeting nervously. He’s parked across from the International University of Monaco, his eyes fixed on the entrance. Students stream in and out, but none of them are the one he’s looking for.

He checks his watch for what must be the hundredth time. Your last class should be ending any minute now. Charles takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He’s rehearsed what he wants to say a thousand times, but now that the moment is approaching, all his carefully prepared words seem to evaporate.

A group of students emerges from the building, laughing and chatting. Charles straightens up, his eyes scanning the crowd. And then he sees you.

You’re walking with a couple of friends, your bag slung over your shoulder, a smile on your face. For a moment, Charles is struck by how ... normal you look. How at ease. It’s a stark contrast to the tense family dinners and stilted conversations of recent months.

Before he can second-guess himself, Charles pushes off from his car and starts walking towards you. He sees the exact moment you spot him — your smile falters, your steps slow.

“Y/N!” He calls out, waving awkwardly.

Your friends notice him too, their eyes widening in recognition. You say something to them that Charles can’t hear, and they nod, casting curious glances between you and your brother as they walk away.

Charles reaches you, stopping a few feet away, suddenly unsure of himself. “Hey,” he says softly.

“Charles,” you reply, your voice carefully neutral. “What are you doing here?”

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’s never been able to shake. “I ... I wanted to talk to you. In person. You haven’t been answering my calls or texts, and I just ... I needed to see you.”

You sigh, adjusting the strap of your bag. “I’ve been busy with classes. And I needed some space.”

“I know,” Charles says quickly. “I know, and I’m sorry for ambushing you like this. I just ... can we talk? Please?”

You glance around, noticing the curious stares from passing students. “Not here,” you say finally. “There’s a café around the corner. We can talk there.”

Charles nods eagerly, relief washing over him. “Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”

You lead the way to the café, a small, cozy place tucked away from the main streets. As you settle into a booth in the back, Charles can’t help but wonder how often you come here, how many parts of your life he knows nothing about.

A waitress approaches, and you order your usual — an iced latte with an extra shot. Charles fumbles with the menu before ordering a simple espresso.

An awkward silence falls over the table as you wait for your drinks. Charles fidgets with a napkin, trying to find the right words to begin.

“So,” you say finally, your tone clipped. “You wanted to talk. Talk.”

Charles takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. For forgetting your birthday, for not being there for you, for ... for everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, your expression unreadable. “Is that it?”

Charles blinks, thrown off balance. “I ... what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you say, leaning forward slightly, “is that all you have to say? You’re sorry?”

Charles feels a flash of frustration. “What else do you want me to say? I messed up, I know that. I’m trying to make it right.”

The waitress returns with your drinks, and you take a long sip of your latte before responding. “Charles, this isn’t just about my birthday. This is about years of feeling invisible, of being overshadowed, of not being seen for who I am.”

Charles feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “What? Y/N, I ... I had no idea you felt that way.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “That’s kind of the point, Charles. You didn’t know because you never asked. None of you did.”

Charles sits back, his mind reeling. “I ... I don’t understand. We’ve always been close. At least, I thought we were.”

“We were,” you agree softly. “When we were kids. But as you got more and more successful, it was like ... like I faded into the background. Everything became about you, about your career.”

Charles feels tears pricking at his eyes. “Y/N, I never meant for that to happen. I love you. You’re my little sister.”

“I know you love me,” you say, your voice gentler now. “But loving someone and seeing them are two different things.”

Charles nods slowly, realization dawning. “The gifts,” he says. “That’s why you sent them back. Because I was trying to fix things without actually understanding what was wrong.”

“Exactly,” you confirm. “Charles, I don’t need expensive clothes or jewelry. I need my brother. The one who used to listen to me ramble about constellations for hours, who’d sneak me extra dessert when Maman wasn’t looking.”

Charles reaches across the table, hesitating for a moment before taking your hand. To his relief, you don’t pull away. “I want to be that brother again,” he says earnestly. “Tell me how. Please.”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Well, for starters, you could ask me about my life. My studies, my friends, my dreams. And actually listen to the answers.”

Charles nods eagerly. “Yes, of course. Tell me everything. What are you studying? How are your classes going?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I’m majoring in Astrophysics, remember? This semester I’m taking a course on Stellar Evolution that’s absolutely fascinating. We’re learning about the life cycles of stars, from their formation to their eventual death.”

As you continue talking, passion lighting up your eyes, Charles feels a mix of pride and shame wash over him. Pride in your intelligence and enthusiasm, shame that he’s missed out on so much of your life.

“That sounds incredible,” he says when you pause for breath. “I had no idea you were studying something so complex. You must be really good at it.”

You shrug, a hint of your old shyness creeping in. “I do okay. It’s challenging, but I love it.”

“I’m sure you do more than okay,” Charles insists. “You’ve always been the smartest one in the family.”

You laugh softly. “I don’t know about that. But ... thanks, Charles. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

Charles squeezes your hand. “I mean it. And I want to hear more. About your classes, your friends, everything. I’ve missed so much, and I want to make up for it.”

You nod, a cautious hope in your eyes. “I’d like that. But Charles, it can’t just be today. This has to be a continuous thing. I need to know that you’re genuinely interested in my life, not just when you’re trying to make amends.”

“Absolutely,” Charles agrees immediately. “What if we set up a regular call? Once a week, we can catch up properly. No distractions, no racing talk unless you want to. Just us.”

A genuine smile spreads across your face. “I’d really like that.”

Charles feels a weight lifting from his shoulders. It’s not fixed, not completely, but it’s a start. “There’s something else,” he says, suddenly remembering. “Max ... are you and Max ...”

You blush slightly, looking down at your latte. “We’re ... figuring things out. He’s been really supportive through all of this.”

Charles nods, pushing down the instinctive surge of protectiveness. “He’s a good guy. If he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”

You look up, surprise evident in your eyes. “Really? You’re not going to go all overprotective big brother on me?”

Charles chuckles. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have my moments. But Y/N, you’re an adult. You can make your own choices. I trust you.”

Tears well up in your eyes. “Thank you. That ... that means more than you know.”

As you both finish your drinks, the conversation flows more easily. Charles asks about your friends, your hobbies outside of studying. You tell him about the astronomy club you’ve joined, the research project you’re hoping to get involved with next semester.

When it’s time to leave, Charles stands up, hesitating for a moment before opening his arms. “Can I ...”

You nod, stepping into his embrace. Charles holds you tight, realizing how long it’s been since he’s really hugged you like this.

“I love you, little sister,” he murmurs into your hair. “And I promise, I’m going to do better.”

You squeeze him back. “I love you too, big brother. And ... I’m willing to give you the chance to prove it.”

As you part ways outside the café, Charles heading back to his car and you towards your apartment, there’s a lightness in the air that wasn’t there before. It’s not perfect, not yet. There are still conversations to be had, bridges to be rebuilt. But for the first time in a long time, there’s hope.

Charles watches you walk away, a mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Pride in the amazing person you’ve become, regret for the time he’s missed, determination to be the brother you deserve.

He pulls out his phone, creating a new reminder: Call Y/N — every Sunday, 7 PM.

It’s a small step, but it’s a start. And as he drives home, Charles finds himself looking forward to getting to know his little sister all over again.

***

The auditorium of the International University of Monaco buzzes with excitement as proud families and friends gather to celebrate the graduating class. In the front row, an unusually high-profile group draws curious glances and whispered conversations.

Charles fidgets in his seat, craning his neck to scan the sea of graduates. “Do you see her?” He asks, nudging his older brother.

Lorenzo chuckles, placing a calming hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Relax. She’ll be here. Alphabetical order, remember?”

On Charles’ other side, Arthur rolls his eyes fondly. “You’d think he was the one graduating, the way he’s acting.”

“Can you blame him?” Max chimes in from the end of the row, a warm smile on his face. “It’s a big day.”

Pascale, seated between Lorenzo and Arthur, dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “My baby girl, graduating university. I can hardly believe it.”

Max reaches across to pat her hand. “She’s amazing, Pascale. You should be very proud.”

Charles turns to Max, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Look at you, all calm and collected. I remember when you were a nervous wreck asking her out for the first time.”

Max blushes slightly, but grins. “Hey, your sister is intimidating. All that brainpower.”

“Shh!” Arthur hisses suddenly. “I think it’s starting!”

The auditorium falls silent as the ceremony begins. The family watches with rapt attention as the graduates file in, searching for that familiar face among the sea of caps and gowns.

And then, there you are. Your eyes scan the crowd until they land on your family, a bright smile spreading across your face as you wave discreetly.

“There she is!” Charles whisper-shouts, practically bouncing in his seat.

Lorenzo chuckles. “We see her. Try to contain yourself, yeah?”

The ceremony progresses, with speeches from the valedictorian and various dignitaries. Charles fidgets impatiently, earning amused glances from his family and Max.

Finally, the moment arrives. “Y/N Leclerc,” the announcer calls.

Charles jumps to his feet, letting out a whoop that echoes through the auditorium. “That’s my sister!” He shouts, drawing startled looks from nearby attendees.

Lorenzo and Arthur quickly join in, their cheers mixing with Charles’. Max and Pascale stand too, clapping enthusiastically.

You walk across the stage, accepting your diploma with a graceful nod. As you turn to face the audience, your eyes lock with your family’s, and your composed expression breaks into a radiant smile.

Charles, caught up in the moment, continues cheering even after you’ve left the stage. “That’s right! Astrophysicist in the house! Watch out, universe!”

Max, noticing the irritated glances from other families, reaches over and claps a hand over Charles’ mouth. “Okay, Charlie, I think she heard you,” he says, laughter in his voice.

Max feels something wet against his palm and jerks his hand away.

“Ugh, gross!” Max yelps, wiping it on his pants. “What are you, five?”

Charles grins unrepentantly. “You started it.”

Pascale sighs, shaking her head. “Boys, please. This is Y/N’s big day. Try to act like adults.”

“Sorry, Maman,” Charles mumbles, properly chastised.

As the ceremony concludes, the family makes their way outside, eagerly scanning the crowd for you.

“There!” Arthur calls out, pointing.

You’re making your way towards them, diploma in hand, your face glowing with happiness. Max reaches you first, sweeping you into a tight hug.

“Congratulations, liefje,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m so proud of you.”

You beam up at him, about to respond when Charles practically tackles you both.

“My sister, the genius!” He crows, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. “I always knew you’d take over the world someday.”

You laugh, hugging him back just as fiercely. “Put me down, you goof! You’re making a scene.”

“Let him have his moment,” Lorenzo says, stepping in for his own hug once Charles releases you. “It’s not every day your little sister graduates top of her class in Astrophysics.”

Arthur’s turn comes next, his hug gentler but no less heartfelt. “Congrats. You’ve officially made the rest of us look like underachievers.”

Finally, you turn to your mother, who’s openly crying now. “Oh, my darling,” she says, cupping your face in her hands. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

You feel tears welling up in your own eyes as you embrace her. “Thanks, Maman. For everything.”

As you pull back, wiping at your eyes, Charles slings an arm around your shoulders. “So, what’s next? Going to discover a new planet? Name a star after your favorite man?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “First of all, I still have to get through graduate school. And second, bold of you to assume you’re my favorite.”

“Ouch,” Charles clutches his chest in mock pain. “After all we’ve been through?”

Max chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Face it, Leclerc. I’ve got you beat in the favorite department.”

Charles narrows his eyes playfully. “Is that a challenge, Verstappen?”

“Boys, boys,” you interject, laughing. “There’s plenty of me to go around. Now, how about we get out of here? I’m starving, and I believe someone promised me a celebration dinner.”

“Ah, yes!” Pascale says, clapping her hands together. “I’ve made reservations at La Maree. Your favorite, ch��rie.”

As the family starts to move towards the parking lot, Max hangs back, tugging gently on your hand. “Hold on a sec,” he says softly. “I want to give you something.”

Curious, you turn to face him. Max reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.

Your eyes widen. “Max ...”

He opens the box, revealing a delicate necklace. A small white gold star pendant hangs from the chain, a tiny diamond twinkling at its center.

“I know it’s not much compared to your usual study subjects,” Max says, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “But I thought ... well, you’re my star, Y/N. My brilliant, beautiful star.”

Tears well up in your eyes again as Max fastens the necklace around your neck. “It’s perfect,” you whisper. “I love it. I love you.”

Max’s face breaks into a radiant smile. “I love you too,” he says, before leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

You melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands settle on your waist. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you.

The spell is broken by an exaggerated gagging sound. You break apart to see Charles pretending to retch, while Lorenzo and Arthur laugh.

You break apart, laughing. “Real mature, Charles,” you call back.

Charles grins, unrepentant. “Hey, someone’s got to keep an eye on you crazy kids.”

Max rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Your brother, the chaperone,” he mutters.

You giggle, taking Max’s hand as you rejoin your family. “Don’t worry,” you whisper conspiratorially. “We’ll ditch him at the restaurant.”

As you all pile into the waiting cars, the air buzzing with excitement and plans for the evening, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. A year ago, you never would have imagined this scene — your family truly seeing and celebrating you, a wonderful man by your side who loves and supports you, and a bright future ahead in a field you’re passionate about.

The cars pull away from the university, carrying you towards your celebration dinner. As you watch the familiar streets of Monaco roll by, you find yourself filled with an incredible sense of anticipation. This isn’t just the end of your university journey — it’s the beginning of something new and exciting.

You glance around the car — at Charles and Arthur bickering good-naturedly in the back seat, at your mother chatting happily with Lorenzo who’s driving, and finally at Max beside you, his hand warm in yours. Your family, in all its chaotic, loving glory.

“Hey,” Max says softly, noticing your pensive expression. “You okay?”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “More than okay. I’m perfect.”

And as the car winds its way through the streets of Monaco, towards a future bright with possibility, you know that it’s true. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, surrounded by love, with the stars stretching out endlessly before you.

[salty-aivia]

Save me mitsuaya,,,,

[steveharrington]

i love your taste in movies, do you have any recommendations for scary movies that are on streaming right now? i just moved and i'm planning to get a library card this weekend but until then i need something to tide me over :)

oh thank you!!! yes! this is just from taking a look around at some of the horror streaming guides i’ve seen online so hopefully these are accurate to which service they’re said to be on!

on netflix:

•train to busan (2016) is an all timer for me that i really think is just a masterpiece. even if you’re a little burned out on zombie media, i still say give train to busan a chance because it does zombies in a way that felt really refreshing and different. the characters in this movie are so well done and it makes me genuinely emotional every time i watch <3

•as above, so below (2014) is such a fun movie like omg….i simply was having the time of my life watching it. really leans into as many scares as it can possibly think of, doesn’t take itself or its subject matter too seriously, genuinely gives me sweaty palms sometimes with the claustrophobia of the paris catacombs. also has the rlly cute guy from cloverfield/super store who i have a big crush on

•some honorable mentions: zombieland (2009) is forever a comfort movie for me, scary stories to tell in the dark (2019) did a genuinely great job imo of adapting the book series, and pearl (2022) is just a great time

on HBO max:

•poltergeist (1982) is an underrated fav of mine <3 weirdly i think of it as like a family friendly horror movie? like i think you could sit down kids in front of poltergeist and they’d generally be okay, which i love and find so compelling in movies that genuinely are scary but also kinda work with younger viewers. feat. the iconic zelda rubinstein

•trick r treat (2007): THEEE halloween movie. its literally a movie ABOUT halloween and about the love of the holiday and the season. genuinely makes me feel so emotional about halloween and the beautiful lovely meaningful holiday it is for so many of us. just a fun campy time, everything ties together in such a clever way, and sam is a little baby. what more could you want?

•honorable mentions: of course the scream franchise (1-4) are classics and so worthy of rewatching, and i’ll recommend open water (2003) because to me it is absolutely terrifying and i find myself thinking about it very often

on hulu:

•the omen (1976) always hits for me. i love this movie and find it so effective in its horror. i LOVE a creepy kid. a bit of the omen trivia: in the final shot, damien wasn’t originally intended to be smiling. he was supposed to look dead ahead at the camera. but the actor was told to be serious and look stern, which made him giggle, so the smile at the end is genuine in that he was trying to suppress a laugh. they kept it because it came across so sinister and tonally perfect in the context of the movie :)

•sea fever (2020) listen no one EVER talks about this movie but i was blown away by it. ocean horror is one of my moms fav subgenres so if we can find a horror movie about the ocean you better believe we will be watching. i thought the concept of this movie and its monster (? if you can call it that) were so fresh and original. compared to its predecessors like leviathan or deep star six, i honestly think sea fever is more effective in its scares

•honorable mentions: hulu has so many good choices! alien (1979) and the fly (1986) are obviously beloved classics for a reason. also if you’re looking for a series, castle rock is near and dear to my heart and is very well done

on prime:

•hell house llc (2015) is another one of those classic Halloween movies to me like it truly is a love letter to the holiday…mwah. found footage is my fav subgenre and this movie does it very well. it has one of the most effective scares that truly took my breath away upon first watch and stuck with me ever since

•10 cloverfield lane (2016): ohhh the cloververse my beloved….i often speak highly of cloverfield (2008) because it’s one of my absolute favorite movies of all time, but i don’t as often talk about 10 cloverfield. not sure why tbh because i love it as well! holy FUCK john goodman is scary in this. it truly sets up a horrifying situation, does so much with a small limited environment, and again john goodman has me shakin in my boots. you don’t have to have seen cloverfield to watch this one! you can watch em out of order no problem

•honorable mentions: of course the thing (1982) is immaculate and gets me every single time. just getting reports right now that lisa frankenstein (2024) is already on prime, HIGHLY recommend, wish i could go back in time to the day i watched this in theaters alone in a new windbreaker i had just thrifted and felt so at peace

honorable streaming service mention: shudder is worth a subscription if you’re wanting to go all in on horror this halloween season. it’s got such a fun eclectic collection and amazing movies like late night with the devil (2024) and series like history of horror

[keanureevesisbae]

Kylian Mbappe x Dutch!fem!reader (but who are we truly kidding, it's about me 😂😂)

Summary: You and your friend get stuck in an elevator with two guys who are the proud owners of the World Champion title of 2018. It's just that you don't know that yet.

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I tried to fight it, I truly do, however I just couldn't help myself. So here it is: a stupid little one shot, based of a dream I had 😂 Also, the reader is Dutch, you have a friend named Jocelyn and it's June 2022

masterlist // misc. masterlist

Forget Emily in Paris. Who needs her, when you have me—Y/N Y/L/N—right here in the heart of Paris? I’ll just admit it straight away: I am that cliche. I eat croissants, am a whore for crepes and am looking into eating escargot. Finally I have an excuse to wear the beret. Try to impress the French with my mediocre accent and the three things I remember from my French lessons back in high school, though I don’t think I’m necessarily succeeding.

I’m wearing a black midi dress, paired with the platform boots and I push the sunglasses in my hair. I put on a thin white cardigan with daisies on it. After I zipped up my black boots, I grab the purse and ask my friend: ‘Ready?’

‘Is overdressing really your main purpose in life?’

I scoff. ‘Thought you knew me by now,’ I say, looking into the mirror to fix my hair. ‘It was I who showed up in a very cute dress and Mary Janes for orientation and that was back home. You bet you’re ass I’m gonna dress up in a different city.’

Jocelyn has been best friend since forever, therefore is familiar with my antics and she stands up from the bed after she put on her white sneakers and pulls up her baggy jeans. On top she’s wearing a cute blue crop top and grabs a simple sporty cardigan. ‘I’m ready,’ she says with a smile, before she uses the hairlip to twist her blonde locks in a messy, but stylish manner. 

The two of us lock our hotelroom behind us and make our way to the elevator. This entire place is beautiful, absolutely magnificent and normally, it would be totally out of our price range. However, Jocelyn is a queen when it comes to finding the best bargains, so we got this five night stay for a mere two hundred euros.

Per person that is, but still. A bargain is a bargain.  

And who am I to say no to a fun trip to Paris with my best friend for that price?

Jocelyn presses the button for the elevator, while I take in the extravagant hallway. Even the ceilings look like masterpieces. I wonder whether or not rich people who stay in luxurious hotel after another take a look at the ceiling and admiring its beauty.

The doors slide open and I can see two guys standing in the elevator already. Jocelyn and I—both masters in the European politeness—both smile identically. A tight lipped gesture with the mouth, that resembles a smile, but in reality looks like an awkward emoji.

They both nod into our direction and when I see the right button to go to the ground floor is already pressed, I relax as I lean against the wall. Usually I’d strike up a conversation with my friend, however the two of us stay silent now.

The elevator starts to descend some more, however it abruptly stops to a halt, which causes a high pitched yelp to leave from both my lips and Jocelyn’s. While one of the guys presses the emergency button, the other who is wearing a cap asks: ‘Ça va?’

I know what à droite is and a gauche and thanks to my high school French, I can ask for his name and I can introduce myself and tell him ‘un blond garçon’, because that was one of the first things I learned in school.

But in this case, that is obviously not gonna be helpful.

This however appears to be so simple, yet I have not a single clue what it means. I glance over to Jocelyn, who is just as confused as I am. 

I curse myself for dropping French after year three of high school. 

‘I’m sorry, what?’ I ask.

Cap guy clears his throat. ‘Are you two okay?’ His accent is thick, however I can still understand him perfectly fine. 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ I say with a smile. ‘I am.’ Realizing the question was a bit more specific, I quickly add: ‘We are.’

Goodness gracious, this guy is exactly the type of guy I would date. Deep down I know that Jocelyn knows. We’ve been through many phases together and while her ideal type has shifted over the years, mine has not.

And lo and behold, my ideal type is standing right in front of me.

The other one says something into the intercom, before he says something to his friend. Serving as the translator, Cap guy turns to us. ’There is a technical issue,’ he says. He almost dramatically leaves a few second silence between us. ’It might take an hour if not more to fix it.’

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

‘What are your names?’ Cap guy asks after a five minute silence where everyone seemed to gather their thoughts and feelings about the current situation. My conclusion was that a faulty elevator causes the temperature to rise, so within five minutes of us being here, I already stripped myself from my cardigan, just like Jocelyn undid herself from her own.

‘I’m Y/N,’ I say. ‘This is my friend Jocelyn.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘The Netherlands. We’re students.’

Jocelyn clears her throat and asks: ‘What are your names?’

‘Kylian,’ Cap guy says and the other introduces himself as Olivier. Olivier appears to be much more mature, a wedding band visible on his ring finger, but nonetheless, still very attractive. While age shouldn’t necessarily be an issue in friendships, Kylian seems to be closer to our age than Olivier. 

‘What do you guys do?’ I ask, an attempt to make sure this conversation doesn’t fall on the ground.

‘We’re football players,’ Kylian says. 

‘Oh neat,’ I say with a smile. ‘What club?’

‘PSG,’ he answers.

‘AC Milan,’ Olivier answers for himself.

Those are pretty solid teams, I think to myself. 

Olivier smiles and adds: ‘We also play for the French National Team. Les Blues.’

Wait a damn minute. I turn to Jocelyn, with who I share a brain cell. We realize the same thing. Oh no… ‘Did you win the World Cup 2018?’ I ask. 

Jocelyn found her voice too. ‘And are going to play in Qatar upcoming November?’

Kylian and Olivier both chuckle. ‘The one and only,’ Kylian says. 

He could’ve just slapped me in the face. Here I am, asking what these guys do for a living and it turns out I am talking to actual world champions. Coming to think of it, the name Kylian in combination with French National Team and World Champions does sound familiar now. 

Jocelyn gasps. ‘Oh my gosh, you are Kylian Mbappe. And you are Olivier Giroud.’

While Giroud does not sound familiar, Kylian Mbappe does. 

‘Y/N,’ she hisses, ‘we watched the games. We watched the finale together.’

This just goes from bad to worse. I am not an avid football fan, however I get awfully intrigued during the Euro and World Cup. The patriotism I never knew I possessed, all of the sudden is there in all its glory. Because the Netherlands didn’t participate in the World Cup 2018, I just watched it for fun.

And I remember saying that the French had a very attractive team.

‘Oh… I remember now,’ I say in a soft tone. Thankfully Jocelyn doesn’t repeat my infamous words I said during the finale of the World Cup 2018.

I would totally allow number 10 to do things to me.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

After Jocelyn and I gotten over the embarrassing fact we were talking to pro athletes (and kept to ourselves we said the most unhinged things during the finale—mind you, we were nineteen and very single), time went by with jokes, stupid games and me sharing some sweets I had in my purse. 

Besides, I think Kylian is into me. I know how that makes me sound, like I have the world’s biggest ego, but I have been on the side lines many times when guys were showing interests in my friends. Lingering eye contact, allowing me to sit on his jacket so my dress isn’t getting dirty and a very innocent touch every now and then.

It’s all there.

This is the most amazing time for me to practice my hard to get skills and not gonna lie, I am nailing it. Giving him enough to try again, but not too much so I appear way too eager. Maybe I’m this on fire, because I know deep down that I’ll never see these two again, if Kylian Mbappe himself is not gonna ask for my number, because no way in hell I was gonna ask for his.

Jocelyn send me a text saying: IF IT WEREN’T FOR ME AND GIROUD NEXT TO YOU, YA’LL BE SPENDING YOUR TIME KISSING AND MAKING OUT IN THE ELEVATOR. 

Thankfully she wrote it in Dutch, because if one of these guys read what she sent me, I might actually pry the doors open myself so I could drop myself to the ground and die.

‘No, no, no,’ I say, ‘the capital of Estonia is Tallinn. Look it up!’

Olivier does what I ask him to do and he sighs. ‘She’s right. She’s too good.’

Right before we can continue on with our country game (it’s not a very exciting one, I’m mile aheads of them), the doors slide open and we are freed. It’s colder in the hallway, but it’s nice to cool down.

Once we’re at the exit of the hotel, I look at the two famous players, who are all smiles and what not. ‘This was fun,’ I say. 

‘We had fun,’ Jocelyn adds. ‘You two are hopeless with countries, but you can run really fast, so it’s all forgiven.’

They both chuckle. 

And then, in the most awkward way, we part ways. A soft goodbye, a thank you and Jocelyn and I are on our merry way to get our croissants we’ve been craving for more than an hour now. 

‘You and I, missy, need to discuss your flirting highlights,’ Jocelyn says. ‘Because you are gifted.’

‘I am not gifted.’

‘You impressed a hot and single football player,’ she says in all serious. ‘You, my friend, are gifted. I saw it all: the doe eyes, the hard to get and then the flirtatious way you smiled and chuckled at his jokes.’

Before I can say something about it, I hear from behind me: ‘Y/N, wait up.’

‘Thank you,’ Jocelyn says, in no one in particular. ‘I refused to believe this was it.’

‘What?’

‘That goodbye couldn’t be the end of the ‘Y/N Y/L/N and Kylian Mbappe’-saga.’

I can’t even respond to it, because Kylian caught up with us. ‘Hi,’ I say. 

‘Hi.’ A smile so bright and almost innocently hopeful. ‘Can I have your number?’

‘What?’ I ask. ‘Why?’

‘Because… You’re fun and I had fun with you. I… I was hoping you and I could spend some more time together, before you go back to the Netherlands.’ He clears his throat. ‘If you want, of course.’

This is not the time to freak out, Y/N and do something stupid. ‘Of course.’

We exchanged numbers, before he looks at his watch and with an apology telling me he has to go. He holds out his hand and when I place mine in it, he presses a kiss on my knuckles.

Don’t faint. Please, hold yourself together. 

‘Bye,’ he says and then he walks away.

I think I have reached a catatonic state, because I can’t move.  

‘You are gonna be a WAG!’ Jocelyn says. ‘Once you are accustomed to a lifestyle of luxury, please remember your roots, therefore me.’

That drags me right back into reality. ‘He just asked for my number.’

Jocelyn scoffs. ‘You had a meet cute and a number exchange. This is gonna be the love story you’ve been waiting for. Come on, you’re twenty three, like yours truly and we both deserve a love story. Please, hook my up with one of his hot and single friends.’

‘You’re going way too fast,’ I say. ‘He just asked for my number.’

Almost on cue, my phone chimes. 

Jocelyn pulls it from my hand and lets out an excited squeal. Then she turns the screen to me and says: ‘You need to write a ‘how to-guide’ on how to get yourself a footballer in a few hours. It would be an absolute bestseller.’

Deciding to ignore her, I grab my phone from her hand and read the text.

Kylian Mbappe: If you don’t have plans for tonight, I’d like to take you out for a date

Kylian Mbappe: If you want, of course.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

Taglist: @diegos-butt (because I am forcing you to read this 😂😂😂)

[animebw]

Short Reflection: Fall 2023 Anime

Is it fair to call 2023 a disappointing year for anime? Maybe it's just that 2021 and 2022 were both so above and beyond that coming back down to normalcy from that peak feels like a letdown. But man, between a mostly uninspiring winter lineup and summer being possibly the single worst anime season since seasonal watching started being a thing, there's been plenty to complain about. Thankfully, there's been plenty to appreciate as well, and while this fall season hasn't been truly transcendent, it's at least left us with a slew of worthwhile anime to close the year out. So let's sift through the rubble and rank all the shows I finished to see which ones ended as true must-watches, which are still worth a look, and which you can skip without missing anything.

Firefighter Daigo (1st Half): 4/10

So, remember Space Brothers? Remember how wonderfully that show balanced naturalistic character building with the excitement and beauty of exploring a high-stakes environment like space? Have you been looking for another show to hit that same sweet spot of grounded maturity and tangible whimsy that makes your childhood dream job feel more achievable than ever? Well... guess you better keep looking, because Firefighter Daigo is not that. There's some beautifully nail-biting tension to the rescue sequences themselves, expertly stacking one thing after another going wrong as our protagonists are forced to think on their feet to save lives under the most pressure imaginable. But the characters are utterly bland, the production is boring on a near-inconceivable level (man, remember when this guy directed a single good-looking episode of To Your Eternity and completely failed to live up to that potential ever again?), it wastes over three minutes each episode on recap footage, and it take such a bizarre, condescending attitude toward its one female character that the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. It's an overly cheesy puppet show playing at being a real story, and I will not be sticking around to see if its second cours improves in any way.

Stardust Telepath: 4.5/10

Man, I'm frustrated I didn't like this one more. I always appreciate Cute Girls anime that put this much polish and energy into their adaptation, and the concept of socially awkward Umika Konohoshi wishing she could escape this planet to make friends among the stars, only to find her place on earth on her journey to reach there, has all the makings of a coming-of-age masterpiece. Sadly, it's done in by the simplest of failures: melodrama overdose. All the attempts at heartstring-pulling are so overbearing and browbeating that every moment that tries to drag tears from your eyes just leaves you exasperated instead. It completely lacks confidence in its ability to touch your emotions on the quality of its writing alone, so it smothers you in sappy speeches and ear-bleeding Feel Sad Music until you feel like you're choking on the stuff. Not even the top-shelf yuribaiting between the two leads can wipe the frustration away, and I'm about the easiest mark for that kind of stuff as you can imagine. Someone get this forehead-touch almost-kiss telepathy into a better show immediately!

I'm in Love with the Villainess: 4.5/10

I honestly feel back about being so down on I'm in Love With the Villainess. Lord knows I'm always complaining we need more isekai with an actual point to make, and an unapologetically queer take on the shoujo villainess trope that actually has something to say about the lesbian experience amidst the romantic goofery certainly fits that bill. Except, well... I already watched this show when it was called MagiRevo. And when it was called Mage and Demon Queen. And in a world where those two stories basically perfected the "lesbian disaster courts a closed-off tsundere" isekai-adjacent fantasy yarn, there's nothing this show can offer that hasn't already been done so much better. Well, okay, the conversation in episode 3 exploring the pushy protagonist's complex self-loathing relationship with her own queerness was certainly unique, but you end up spending the rest of the show waiting in vain for it to do something that interesting ever again, only to be met with overly tropey writing, cliches, and unexpected swerves into problematic WTF territory instead. There are good ideas here buried here, but it needed a better studio to refine it to the point it needed to be, and it got stuck with Platinum Vision instead. What a shame.

Uma Musume Season 3: 4.5/10

At this point I have to wonder if even Uma Musume is getting tired of its own shtick. It's been three seasons and an OVA of the most melodramatic sports anime histrionics imaginable, and all that shouting and wailing has to get exhausting after a while. And while season 3 is still every bit as overblown and overbearing as the franchise has always been, it also feels like it's poking fun at itself for taking this nonsense so damn seriously. Two characters have a sappy emotional heart-to-heart while furiously paddling a paddleboat. Former protagonist and resident crybaby Special Week's tearful speeches are basically ignored by everyone else in the cast as they keep talking over her and tuning her out. The running gag of the Overly Serious Race Commenters get upstaged by a pair of even older, more seasoned Overly Serious Race Commenters. Hell, even the fact we only get a single idol performance at the very end seems to hint at just how weary this story's become of its own conceit. Uma Musume has always been an overthought, overdesigned mess of a show, so bloated on anime nonsense and ill-matched tropes that it rarely manages to capture anything real amidst the corporate plasticness of it all. But I'm not gonna lie, there's something equally hilarious and depressing about seeing it finally start to admit its own pointlessness.

Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions: 5/10

How good does a show have to be at character banter to make up for a failure of writing in pretty much every other respect? That's the question Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions seems willed into existence to answer. As a snappy buddy-cop comedy between an eccentric genius detective and his beleaguered straight-man sidekick, it's every bit the equal of 2011's Sherlock. As an actual mystery thriller... it is also, sadly, every bit the equal of 2011's Sherlock. I could watch the titular Ron fail upwards through his case-solving conundrums dragging the hapless rookie detective Toto with him all day. Their chemistry is infectious. It's just a shame the actual detective work is so hacky and contrived, cheap solutions to mostly dull mysteries that never give you that "Aha!" moment of seeing the puzzle pieces come together. And the overarching plot involving prestigious detective academies, shadowy criminal syndicates, and bizarre involuntary hypnosis powers feels like it purposefully ignores every opportunity to explore any ideas deeper than basic shonen moralizing. I might still pop back in for season 2 to enjoy more wacky hijinks between the leads, but if you're looking for something to scratch your mystery itch, give this one a pass.

Arknights: Perish in Frost: 5/10

Now that's more like it! Sort of. Almost. Okay, look, for the first half and change of its run, the second season of Arknights manages to be every bit the improvement on the first season I was hoping for. It streamlines the plot to keep a constant, propulsive forward momentum, pushing its characters forward and keeping the narrative lens focused so it can do justice to all its major players. And it pushes all those disparate factions on a collision course with each other that leads to constant, meaningful consequences and character building, aided by a production that hits its high water marks far more consistently than season 1. It feels like Arknights has shaken off the bloat and become the best possible version of itself, a dark action season with some genuine muscle behind it... at least until we enter the final stretch and the pacing goes absolutely out of control, speeding into a brick wall so fast and recklessly that you're barely able to understand what the fuck just happened by the time it's over. It's shockingly rushed, to the point you feel like you're watching someone recite the Wiki at you while skipping over all the connective tissue that would make these plot points make sense. It's a frustrating end to a season that came so close to being good, and I can only hope any future installments never make that mistake again.

Undead Unluck (1st Half): 5/10

Undead Unluck is host to one of the single most bonkers sci-fi settings I've ever seen, anime or otherwise. From what starts feeling like just our world with some supernatural freaks and weirdos causing havoc, it gradually reveals itself to be something more akin to a nightmarish cosmic RPG in the hands of a mad god, where none of the rules of our world can be taken for granted and reality is only ever a hair's breadth away from turning on its head. It's a deliriously creative premise to build a shonen battle manga out of, and I can't wait to see what other insanity the writers can milk out of this setup. Which is good, because otherwise, hooooooooo boy this one does not get off on a good foot. What fucking genius decided the main duo's dynamic should be built around the guy molesting the girl to make her powers activate? In what universe was building a love story out of that sexual harassment a good idea? I'm sorry, but when you've mistaken a swaggering half-naked dude-bro casually trying to outright assault his partner as cute hot-and-cold couple banter, you have officially lost the plot. Can somebody break into Shonen Jump studios and teach this company how to write a proper romance one of these days? Deku and Uraraka can't carry the whole genre on their back, guys!

Migi and Dali: 5.5/10

Is Migi and Dali a good show? I honestly don't think I could tell you. What it is, is utterly bizarre in everything in does, yet somehow kind of makes it all work? It's a Diamond-is-Unbrekable-esque off-kilter small town murder mystery, with a pair of identical twins pretending to be one kid to fool their new adoptive parents as they search for the person responsible for killing their mother years ago. The whole thing plays like a pitch-black parody of stereotypical suburban life, finding the cracks in the facade of normalcy and ripping them open until your only options are to laugh wildly or cringe wildly at the resulting desecration. And you will do plenty of both all throughout as it ping-pongs from accidental twincest to toddler play to to not-so-garden-variety abuse to Excessive English and basically everything in between. If there's an aspect of your stereotypical boring, domestic family experience that Migi and Dali can twist into a grotesque mockery of itself, it'll do just that and then some. The unfortunate side effect, though, is that it can be hard to tell where the line lies between intentional commentary and just being gross and uncomfortable for its own sake. And when that threatens to veer into some really misogynistic territory in the final act, it becomes even harder to stomach. Still, I can safely say I've never seen anything quite like this show, and considering the manga's author tragically passed away recently, you can't help but respect the people making it for honoring her memory this way.

Shy: 5.5/10

Shy is one of the rare manga I've read before the anime came out, inspired by a friend who came across it at random and it became their favorite manga of all time after just eleven chapters. I wasn't quite as swept away, and I don't think it's maintained the level of quality its first couple arcs had, but man, there's something special about this one. Which is why I am personally begging you not to watch the anime and go straight to the manga, because this adaptation really doesn't do justice to how electrifying and soul-enriching the manga can be. Masaomi Ando's a good director, but his penchant for paneling and stylistic insert shots, an aesthetic which works wonders on heavily atmospheric mood pieces like Toiled-Bound Hanako-kun and Scum's Wish, is completely at odds with the needs of a straightforward superhero battle series. The manga's artwork has this wonderfully sketchy, explosive quality that makes every action panel feel like a rush of cascading moments; here, every action scene quickly descends into a mess of moving jpegs and awkwardly placed insert frames that cripples its ability to wow you. There's enough of the manga's triumphant spirit preserved that it still shakes out decently- the orphanage arc that closes out the first season is wonderful enough to survive any imperfections from page to screen- but if the story of Teru's struggles and self-actualization touched you at all, you owe it to yourself to check out the source material to experience this story in its best form.

The 100 Girlfriends Who Really Really Really Really Really Love You: 6/10

Listen, you know me. You know how much I despise the harem genre. There's barely a single example of the form I consider anything above mediocre slop. So how did a show with this premise manage to get into my good graces? By understanding one simple fact that so few harem anime seem to realize: if you want something this inherently stupid to work? Embrace the fucking stupidity. Throw caution and common sense and good taste to the wind and just go absolutely bugnuts. Why settle for a scant five or six barely interchangeable waifu bait when you can have one hundred distinct and memorable personalities? Why waste time on cheap melodrama that nobody cares about when there are fourth walls to break and scenarios to push far beyond their logical extremes? 100 Girlfriends knows that the only proper form for this genre is sheer anarchy, going so far over-the-top with its jokes and setups that it's impossible not to get swept up in the sheer audacity of it all. And somehow, by imbuing this madcap nonsense with just a drop of sincerity, it actually makes you care about Best Boy Aijou Rentarou and his ever-growing posse of romantic partners as a strangely healthy polyamorous support system for each other. It's far from flawless and good lord is it problematic from top to bottom, but if you can vibe to its particular brand of earnestly empathetic chaos, it's an experience like none other.

Overtake: 6.5/10

Overtake is the most frustrating kind of anime: a really good show that's constantly threatening- but never fully succeeds- at being great. It has all the pieces you could want! A masterful production from veteran directer Ei Aoki that brings the world of Formula 4 racing to life with tactile, lived-in lushness. Characters who breathe far beyond the confines of the screen, rich with inner life and complex relationships where you come to love the rivals just as much as the scrappy underdog protagonists. A story that tackles genuinely moving and mature ideas as it explores what it means to give your all to something, even when the risks may be too horrifying to reckon with. It's as perfectly positioned for greatness as you could ask from a sports anime... and yet it never quite takes off the way you want it to. It's just missing that little extra something to push it over the edge, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what that might be. It's still absolutely worth a look, but as much as I liked it, I'm gonna be stewing over why I didn't love it for a while.

The Ancient Magus Bride Season 2 Part 2: 6.5/10

Alright, that's more what I was hoping for. After a frustratingly slow and plodding first half, the back half The Ancient Magus Bride's second season finally starts paying off all that torturous setup and reminding us that when it wants to, nothing goes harder than Chise's tale of trauma, abuse and recovery, especially now that she's the guiding light for another girl crawling out of pit much like the one she was once trapped in. It's genuinely powerful watching her try to help Philomena out from under a painfully familiar burden, struggling save someone like her while she's still struggling with the scars her own darkness has left on her. And whenever it's focused on that, it's as good as The Ancient Magus Bride has ever been. It's just a shame that whenever all that potent character drama gives way to fae-on-fae magical showdowns, it's some of the ugliest, clunkiest, most poorly staged action in all of fall's lineup. It utterly fails to capture the sense of eldritch awe and wonder this series' magic invokes, leaving it feeling like a shell of itself even when everything else is operating at full capacity. Hopefully, future seasons will take the time they need to bring that aspect up to par, because a series this steeped in the haunting grandeur of its aesthetic cannot afford to cut corners on that aesthetic.

Spy x Family Season 2: 7.5/10

Do my eyes deceive me? A Yor-centric arc? This show finally gives one of its nominal protagonists a turn in the spotlight after ages of underuse with a big, lengthy, consequential story that lets her shine like never before? It's like Christmas came early. I've been up and down about Spy x Family over the course of its run, but the cruise ship arc that dominates this season is everything great about this show operating at the top of its potential, and god damn is it marvelous to watch unfold. If only it was this good on a consistent basis, it would be an easy shoe-in for one of the greatest anime of the decade. But you know what? As long as it keeps delivering highlights like this, I've got nothing to complain about. At this point, Spy x Family has comfortably settled into being a reliably entertaining action-heavy family sitcom with lovable characters and occasional moments of greatness, and if that's all it ultimately amounts to, well, there are far worse things to be. Just please, for the love of god, keep Yuri off screen as much as possible.

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off: 8/10

So cards on the table: the live action Scott Pilgrim vs the World movie is one of my favorite films of all time. It's such a perfect explosion of geeky awesomeness from one of our greatest living directors, managing to push the medium of live action closer to anime than it ever was before or has been since. So the prospect of seeing the original comic actually made into an anime was very exciting to me. How cool would it be to finally see the source material that inspired this movie brought to life, never mind with Science Goddamn Saru pushing the animation into overdrive? But much to my shock- and eventual delight- Scott Pilgrim Takes Off had much more exciting things in mind than simply slapping a decades-old comic series on screen. Instead, it's something closer to an Evangelion-style Rebuild, taking a sharp left and remixing the story and characters with the perspective of a more mature creator, reckoning with his successes and failures alike as he re-assesses the story he was trying to tell and what parts of it still hold value today. It's Scott Pilgrim as told by someone who's outgrown the transient young adulthood central to the narrative, taking stock of his past from an older, wiser perspective and making amends where he fell short before. And as much as I might have liked a straightforward adaptation, what I got instead was so exciting and fresh that I can't complain. If only every anime was this willing to get creative with its source material.

The Apothecary Diaries (1st Half): 8.5/10

Say a prayer and set off some fireworks, folks: the shoujosei renaissance is here! After a years-long drought, the anime industry is finally remembering that stories targeted at women and girls are also worthy of high-profile prestige adaptations instead of settling for barely animated table scraps. And of all the breakout hits we've had this past year and change, none have slapped quite as hard as The Apothecary Diaries, a historical Chinese mystery drama that marries fascinating courtly intrigue with a bitterly honesty exploration of how the lowest rungs of society- women and poor people especially- are systemically crushed by the structures that govern their world. As hilarious as this show can be, it's also unnervingly frank about the darkness the Emperor's courtesans and their servants must reckon with as pawns in a patriarchal society. And it drives that message home with a truly wonderful protagonist in Maomao, a girl who just wants to keep her head down and get through life without drawing unwanted attention from the forces that could easily squash her like a bug, but has too strong a moral compass to look the other way when she sees the people around her suffering from those same injustices. It's the story of a powerless person using all the tools at her disposal to keep the world's cruelty at bay, and watching her struggle to win what small victories she's capable of against such an overwhelming power structure makes for some of the most gripping television I've watched in quite a long time. And if the second cours is even half as good as good, it will still earn its place among the years' best.

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (1st Cours): 9/10

The big fantasy adventure is over. The demon king is dead, the world is at peace, and the heroes who defeated him slowly grow old and die in the new age they ushered in. All, that is, except Frieren, a near-immortal elf with such a long lifespan that a human's life is a mere drop in the ocean for her. But with the passing of her former party's leader, she realizes just how much the short time she spent on that adventure have affected her. Ten years- a mere millisecond in the life of an elf- has changed the way she sees the world more profoundly than she ever could have dreamed. So she sets out on a journey to retrace the steps of that adventure, to reconnect with her memories of the old friends she's only now realizing she wished she got to know better before it was too late. Along the way she picks up a couple of those friends' young disciples to join her party, walking reminders of the past she left behind and the future that awaits her. And through their travels, she slowly begins to understand humanity and her place within it... and all the experiences she will carry with her long after they've faded into mere memory.

I'll admit, there are times I like being an anime hipster. There's something inherently indulgent, if not exactly healthy, of feeling superior to a mass-market piece of entertainment that you're too Smart and Intellectual to be fooled by. But sometimes, you just gotta call a spade a spade. Sometimes, the weeb consensus gets it really, really right. Yes, Frieren: Beyond Journey's End is every bit as self-evidently spectacular as everyone says it is, so on-its-face magical it's almost kind of insulting. It's a quiet, meditative fantasy exploration of grief, longing, the passage of time, and what it truly means to live a fulfilling life when everything you cherish within it must one day fade into nothing. It's poignant and intimate on a level that's hard to describe, yet equally grand and majestic whenever it wishes. It's also one of the funniest goddamn shows I've watched in a while, with jokes that hit from unexpected, awkward angles that left me rolling on the floor. If his work on Bocchi the Rock hadn't already proven it, this cements Keichirou Saitou as one of our greatest modern anime directors, a master of melding tones and moods and imbuing every shot with vibrant inner life. It's almost disappointing whenever it leans into action; as spectacularly animated as its battles are, it's those quiet moments of grace and warmth that truly make this show something remarkable. Bottom line, Frieren is a runaway leader for 2023's best TV anime, a show we'll be talking about for decades to come. I can't think of a better high note to start 2024 on.

Dropped:

Shield Hero Season 3 (4 Episodes)

My Daughter Left the Nest and Returned an S-Rank Adventurer (3 Episodes)

[gloryhrs]

⟡ 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃! ━━ 「 Jushiro Ukitake. 」

male reader.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 eyes focused on the canvas in front of you while the wet brush worked its way through it. Your husband, Jushiro Ukitake, laid his head on the gentle green grass as the wind blew through his long white locks. He loved times like this when you would take him to your secret place to paint or nap with him. A smile made its way onto your lips when you started to finish your handsome husband's painting, it didn't take you long to paint it. Given you knew his facial features as well as the back of your hand. Once you retouched the painting with one last stroke, a happy noise came from your lips, which made Jushiro open one of his eyes from the sudden squeak.

"I suppose you finished?" He laughed and sat down from his seat with a warm smile on his face. Since you were both teenagers he would notice how a joyful squeak came from your mouth after finishing something exciting. Which earned you the nickname Guinea. You nodded and moved closer to your husband to show him the canvas. The eyes that belonged to Jushiro widened before the masterpiece before his eyes, and the way the soft colors mingled made his mouth fall. No matter how often he sees your paintings, he would be shocked each time by the details and colors.

"Ahh! This is beautiful, my love! Your talent is beyond this world." Your husband kissed your cheek as you looked downwards and played with your fingers from the cute pet name. You've been married to him for over a hundred years, but you still acted like the same shy teenage boy you were during your academy days. You remembered very well the way he and Shunsui tried to make you speak and get out of your shell because of your quiet personality. You always admired him and his sweet nature, no one truly conversed with you except him. Your heart still beats fast in remembrance of him kissing you under the full moon after you confessed your feelings for him.

"Darling? Are you okay?" His voice took you out of your thoughts, you looked over at him only to see him looking back with a worried expression. "I am fine, dear." Your angelic voice caused his cheeks to turn a soft shade of pink, he loved hearing your voice. He hated how many people would poke fun at you for being a male with a gentle voice instead of a rough and raspy one. You held him by his hand and carried it on your cheek. Jushiro smiled when you rubbed your cheek in his hand, making all his concerns disappear. His other hand made its way to your face to give you multiple series of delicate kisses on your two-toned plump lips.

"The sun is going down, we should come back before everyone gets worried." You laughed at the memory of the lieutenants that clung to you after being absent for two consecutive days. You and Jushiro have always considered them as your family, often calling them your children and even purchasing nice little gifts for everyone. You truly enjoyed being a parenting figure for them. "Oh, you are right!" Let alone the fact that you're cooking tonight!" Jushiro rose quickly with the painting in one hand and your hand in another. The couple ran down the path like two children as the moon in the stunning sky led their way back.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ "𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 is so delicious sweetheart!" Jushiro took another bite of the meal, you swiftly patted him on the back when he started choking on the food. "Please slow down, love." You laughed and passed him the cup of water he chugged down with ease. "Sorry, the food is so delicious! There's nothing I can do about it!" He took the chopsticks again to eat dinner. You had to laugh at your husband's irresponsible eating habits. This wasn’t his first time choking on your food, you would always have to pat his back more than twice during dinner so he wouldn’t throw himself into an early grave.

"Would you like sec—" You didn’t even to finish your sentence for Jushiro to have his plate out in front of you. The funny thing is, you fed him a full feast before you went out early. "Say no more!" He grinned as you fixed the food on his plate. While fixing the plate, the noise of the sliding door made you turn away from your husband's gaze. Your smile lit up as the six lieutenants peaked their heads through the door. "Mr. Ukitake! We smelled that delicious food of yours a mile away! Can we have any?" Yachiru looked over your shoulder at the feast as her mouth began to water.

"Of course! I've made enough for everyone." You went and fetched the plates in the cupboard while the lieutenants sat around the table with your husband. Yachiru and Rangiku were the first to hold their plates for the food. Once the pink-haired girl bit into the food, her eyes lit up right away: "Wah! It's incredible!" "Yeah!" She and Rangiku began eating their food again. You watched Hisgai and Kira while they tried not to demolish the food they ate slowly.

"Here ya' go Renji and Rukia." You delivered the bowl to the duo that quickly held the chopsticks. "It tastes so good." Renji spoke with a mouth full while Rukia nodded her head in agreement. "I told you my husband had the best meals!" Jushiro wrapped her arm around his waist as your cheek began to warm up. Luckily, nobody was able to see it because of your dark skin. "Thank you for your food, Mr. Ukitake!" "Yes! It's incredible!" "You should cook for us one day!" The compliments made you feel like covering your face. "Thank you all for enjoying it! I will gladly cook for all of you someday." You smiled while the six lieutenants applauded.

extended ending.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ "𝐈𝐓 hurts so bad." Jushiro held his stomach in pain as you placed the pills and water next to him. "Darling, I told you that you shouldn’t be eating over four plates." You helped him take the pills. Crocodile tears started to leave Jushiro’s face from your statement, "Well sorry?! I just love your food so much!" He laid his head down on your lap while your fingertips scratched his scalp to relax him and let the pill kick in with ease. "I know you enjoy it, but please don’t give yourself a stomachache again." You leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Thank you for taking care of me pumpkin." He laughed at your adorable flustered reaction to the old pet name. "It’s no problem, sweets. Just be more careful next time."

© gloryhrs, 042323. // notes and reblogs are appreciated! (≧∇≦) /

[gerardpilled]

would you share some beach boys lore with us?!

I know this is extremely vague, but past the actual music on pet sounds I truly truly know nothing about them

p.s. I just looked them up on spotify and smiley smile is wild

HA! I gotcha! Okay so there's actually a decent amount of stuff that i'm not sure is necessarily interesting on its own or just interesting with the background knowledge of Brian Wilson's life and story. Basically what kinda enamors me to them most is the contrast between how modern people without a knowledge of music history* view them and the behind the scenes reality. Their legacy has kinda been defined to the general public by their appearances and work in the 90s which really pushed the whole "beach! fun! surfing! babes!" aspect of their earlier work while completely ignoring what made songs like "fun fun fun" and "I get around" classics to begin with. Brian Wilson. Which is where the contrast kinda comes in for me. you have all these songs that surface level seem simple and dumb, but even those have artistry to them that made them stand out because someone like Brian Wilson was behind them!

Brian's story is incredibly sad and tragic at times and can be hard to learn about especially as a neuro-divergent person. He made such beautiful and sad sounds while dealing with mental health struggles that society of the 60s were not kind to. He has auditory schizophrenia which inspired a lot of work from pet sounds onward. he eventually had a mental breakdown while attempting to finish smiley smile (ps, he re-produced it 40 years later so go listen to SMiLE sessions instead). A lot of his life and work after that was controlled by his conservatorship under his abusive psychologist.

Anyway yeah i guess that's the starting lore that i find really important. I know it's a person's real life experience, but there's something so tragic about Brian's story and how his art has been bastardized by Mike Love (his cousin and co-beach boy) in the years since leaving the band that kinda hits me hard. Everyone attributes so much to the Beatles when it comes to rock and roll influence because the beach boys were just some silly dudes! I think I heard someone say once that in the Beatles an artist like Paul McCartney had an artist like John Lennon backing him up. In the Beach Boys, Brian Wilson had himself.

If you want a quick and well-made overview, the 2014 biopic Love and Mercy is actually really good! Also if you haven't, listen to pet sounds front to back and really try to hear all the layers and sounds and tiny little details. it's considered one of the best albums ever made and it commercially tanked when it came out. Also Also give a good hard listen to good vibrations. it's the song Brian considers his masterpiece (though i think his favorite is Don't Worry Baby which i would have to agree with) it took actual months to make and i think it was recorded in like 4 different studios because he believed they all specialized in different acoustics

*not an insult to those people i don't expect anyone to know this stuff

[rouge-wolf]

A Forgotten Friend Sherlock x Fem Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Dearmad Manor: Grand Saray, Cordona

7:56 pm

"I'm glad I didn't run into anyone. I truly needed a peaceful walk home to clear my head. I should check for mail, perhaps.... No. It's been ages. He wouldn't have sent a letter now, of all things." I mutter under my breath, walking to the mailbox; an idiotic sense of hope made itself known against my will. Slowly I open the lid, but nothing.

"Of course, I have taken care of any bills for the month, and I'm not exactly fully part of the 'in' crowd of Cordona except for the few art shows of Vogle's I attend. I shook my head at the memory of Vogle's last attempt to make me attend one of the parties he regularly attends, flicked in front of my eyes like a film. Unlocking the front door, I sigh and close my eyes as I lean against it, effectively shutting it and adding to my dramatics. 'I wonder what I should eat. What do I even have in the kitchen?' 

_____________________________________________________________

Il Palazzo del Lusso: Grand Saray, Cordona

7:40 pm 

Sherry finally made it down to the bar as I claimed our table. I wonder what she is up to. I don't think Sherry remembers her. Hell! he doesn't remember much from his time on Cordona, almost like that's the whole point of us being here, Jon. I roll my eyes at myself, something usually reserved for Mycroft and whenever Sherry is stupid. How long does it take to grab food? I had an entire introspection session.

I walked up to the bar with two platters of marlin ceviche for the taking, not that we needed two. One will suffice. 

"If seafood is not to your taste, everyone loves 'Benedict's Batch' - our poached eggs with a hollandaise sauce!" The bartender informs me. 

I got bored waiting at the table, so I looked around the foyer and found something quite intriguing. 

"Hey Sherry, just our luck!" I called, gaining his attention. 

"A medium? Jon, haven't we been through this already?"

"Come on! It's not like we got anything better to do!" 

After what I would call a masterpiece of convincing by yours truly, a rather intriguing character walks down the staircase. Hopefully, the table I found is still empty. 

"Excuse me, sir, but I believe Mr. Ghalichi is conducting a seance at the moment," I could care less about Mr. Ghalichi's scam. "Perhaps you would care to have your portrait drawn while you wait?" 

"Why?" Perhaps I could find some entertainment in a short conversation.

"Pardon me?"

"Why should I sit for a portrait?"

"I- Sir... It's art. It doesn't need a 'why.' It is its own justification." How dull.

"All things require justification, be they objects, systems, or beliefs."

"How about, 'art is the lens through which we see the truth of the world' ?" 

"That's backwards. Truth is not subjective and not complicated. It's just the truth - either it is or it isn't. You do not need a lens to see it, just an open mind." This artist is quite annoying but the most entertaining thing in the room.

"Ha. That seems rather close-minded. Truth, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. So tell me, what do you see?" He holds out the sketch he has been working on. 

"Mediocrity," I respond, and the artist finally walks off.

"Come now, Sherry, what did he do to deserve that? The servant mentioned Ceviche at the bar, Sherry. You should grab us some, and I'll find us a table. I'm starving." I say, heading toward the table I claimed earlier as Sherry went to the bar.

I could feel my eyes roll at Jon. I had tried to grab a platter earlier, only to have him call me to that sign advertising a seance. I grabbed a platter, "Okay, time to check if Jon found us a nice table for the evening." I found Jon at a table with a cane lying on it.

"Sherry! I'm over here with my new ursine companion." I look at Jon.

"What are you waiting for? Put the dish down so we can tuck in!" Setting the dish down, I sit down in the plush chair.

"Cordona is even quieter than I remembered. It's going to be a long evening."

"Come now, Sherry. What say we amuse ourselves with a little game?"

"What were you thinking? Promise me it isn't nonsense- after being cooped up on that boat, I am itching for activity."

"No! As you can see, someone left a cane on our table. I simply thought you could identify its owner."

"Ugh, so it is nonsense. It will take me a minute, Jon, at most!"

"Well then, you can deliver it to him as well."

"Deliver it to him? Then what are the staff here for? Aesthetics?!"

"Stubborn, Sherry! Too stubborn! You wanted something to do." 'It makes me wonder how she put up with him; me a perfect angel.'

"Slapping oneself in the face is also 'something to do' That doesn't make it worthwhile! But all right, let me take a look."

I spare a glance at Jon before starting this arduous task.

"No matter how long you stare at the stick, it's not going to walk itself to its owner."

"The handgrip is a head of a golden Javanese statue, probably stolen from a temple. The dents suggest it has been used as a bludgeon. A crest depicting a bulb of garlic in a meadow. Perhaps the Fielding family or Meadows? Or Craven from the old English name meaning 'garlic place'? The cane is made of Ebony. It is worn, uncared for, and bears the scars of numerous hits. This cane is an expensive and ostentatious weapon. Its owner must be vain, volatile, and of noble English blood."

"Take it with you, Sherry! Let's return it to its owner."

I pick up the cane time to find its owner.

"All right, I hope you noted down your observations in your casebook. But how are you going to find this nobleman?"

"The cane itself is not enough. I may have to ask other guests if they saw who was here." I inform and begin to look for someone to ask.

_____________________________________________________________

Kitchen: Dearmad Manor 

8:00 pm 

The market is definitely on the docket for tomorrow. All I could find was a bit of sausage and two eggs. Dinner now decided, I quickly prepare it. "Hmm, I wonder what they're up to right now. Probably on a case." Putting my now-cooked food on a plate, I sat at the empty kitchen table and ate. I must have gotten lost in thought as I looked at the clock to see it was now 8:33. Picking up my plate and fork, I added them to the dishes I needed to clean.

"To clean or not to clean, that is the question." I stared at the dishes; maybe they would clean themselves…. "To clean is sadly the answer." I made quick work of the dishes. Now to get washed up and ready for bed.

With the bath filled with hot water and some rose oil, I slip out of my dress and undergarments and sink into the steaming water feeling my muscles instantly relax. Leaning my head back, I let my thoughts take over my mind once again. What would life be like with them here? More specifically, if he were here. I am certain of that, but would it have been possible for something more to have occurred? Lord knows his elder brother would protest it, saying such things are trivial for people like them. It is funny since they are only here due to their parent's love.

I slid down the tub till my head was submerged getting up after a moment. I grabbed my soap, lathering it in my hands before lathering it on my scalp rinsing it out a minute or two later. Grabbing my soap and a cloth, I quickly cleaned my body as the bath slowly lost its warmth. I got out of the tub, and pulled out the stopper, allowing the water to drain. Grabbing a fluffy towel, I dried myself off and slipped into one of my favorite nightgowns. As I lie in bed, I wonder what my dreams will show me. Maybe I will see my friends and go on an exciting adventure! I don't' even know when my eyelids finally shut.

_____________________________________________________________

Il Palazzo del Lusso: Grand Saray, Cordona

7:55 pm 

I approached an older lady by the bar. 

"Could you help me?"

"Of course. Stop me when you've heard enough." 

After conversing with her, I found out that there were three people at the table- a couple and a retired Navy officer. Observers weren't sure what happened to the couple, but the Navy officer was seen going out to the front garden for some air. I have to find him. 

"Well, even with your keen senses, Sherry, I doubt you'll find the cane's owner on your first try." Jon quipped as I made my way through to the front garden. 

"Ha! And would you be confident enough to bet on it, my friend?"

"Why not! Let's see how good you really are!" Now I must get this right can't let Jon have something to hold over me.

Once I entered the front garden, I gave a brief deduction of the people; to the right, by the gate, an affable Swedish artist who owns a pug; By the main walkway of the garden next to a lamp post, an affable Irish singer with seasonal allergies accompanied by an affable Irish diplomat with an allergy to seafood. So far not even close to who I'm looking for. Next was a Cordonian adventure, who was dehydrated and sympathetic. Then among a group of three men was a friendly Swedish secretary with back pains, a friendly French pharmacist suffering from cirrhosis, and an affable Swedish engineer that is a retired military officer. This is the man I was looking for. I asked him about the can and the couple he accompanied earlier that evening. 

The Navy officer, Mr. Rhodes, was sitting at our table with the noble couple. The men talked about yachting, and the lady was fidgeting with the cane. Perhaps she put it aside, and her husband forgot to take it when they went to meet the medium.

"Hey, Sherry, don't we now have the perfect excuse to visit the seance?"

"I'm just going to give the cane to its owner. You will not persuade me to take part in this show."

I head over to the seance room.

"Come on, if you hurry, perhaps we'll see the ghost!"

Jon started to play the piano to intensify the mood. I open the door to see a fight between the nobleman I was looking for, the medium, and a hotel staff member.

"This hotel, this island… it's full of thieves! First my cane, now my diamond! Take your hands off me! Do you even know who I am?"

I smacked the cane down onto my hand, and Jon finished his song. That seemed to get their attention.

"Hey, boy, that's my cane!"

"I get that a lot. It's a very common design."

"What…!? No, that's a custom-made-" "A joke, a joke," I cut him off, "It was left at my table in the restaurant. I thought it deserved to be returned." I handed him the cane.

"Well, I'll be- it is rare to encounter a straight-fingered truepenny these days! What a fine gentleman! But I must ask… how did you know I was the rightful owner?"

I deduce Lord Craven swiftly to the conclusion that he is a bored British nobleman.

"Simple deduction. Your cane told me everything I needed to know. I was after a strong middle-aged man, with a keen interest in adventure, noble blood, and affection for strong drinks. And if one were to go further, one may even be able to extrapolate your name from your heraldic symbol… Lord Craven."

"Marvelous! Simply Marvellous! That's me, Lord Andrew Craven! You are the real medium! You hear that, Emma?" He looks at the woman lying on the couch and then back at me.

"Well, you found my cane… perhaps you can locate my diamond too! Yes, you should do it. It will be child's play for you, mister…"

"Holmes. And if a child can do it, then I'm sure the local police can suffice."

"The police!? Why bother? I know this harlequin stole it! The only question is where is it hidden." He turned and walked across the room from me. "Fine, give me my stick, and I'll resolve the matter myself! This thief almost confessed after a single punch."

"Hm. I suspect a beating may result in answers of… questionable veracity. Fine. I shall spare you and he the trouble, if you first answer me this. You insist the medium robbed you during the seance - but what occurred exactly?" Jon seems to be enjoying this as he watches from the corner.

"Bah, it was a dirty trick! We were sitting here in the dark, chanting and holding hands, as expected. Then something began to appear from the medium, like a cloud or a bubble. The swindler called it 'ectoplasm.'"

"Ah, yes. Common in the spiritualist trade. And quite the spectacle."

"Indeed - perhaps too much. My beloved Emma screamed in horror, and I stood to defend her, attacking that cursed ghost!"

"How brave." No sarcasm was noticeable in my voice.

"But my hand hit nothing! The medium jumped away from me, and Emma fainted. I lit the candle - and the diamond was gone!"

"How does a priceless diamond become the subject of a seance? It is an unusual accoutrement."

"Emma wished to speak with its former owners. My grandfather told us it belonged to a rajah- an Indian king."

"So you were summoning long-dead Indian royalty? And, pray tell, you were expecting him to converse in English?"

"To be frank, Mr. Holmes, I don't believe in ghosts. But Emma was fascinated by the idea of meeting a real king… even a dead one."

"Well, a crown is a crown. Can you describe the stone itself?"

"A yellow diamond, not less than a hundred carats, and perfectly egg-shaped. There is not another like it!"

"Stay here, and don't touch anything. I'm going to investigate further."

"Don't fret. I'll be keeping a close eye on this thief."

I started my investigation at the table where the diamond was seen last. In the center of the table, there was a holder for the diamond. A moth brooch was in the medium's coat and a splotch of green ectoplasm was on the table. The broken wine glace had traces of rouge in its edge and a half glass of Balblair scotch along with the remains of a Por Larranaga cigar.

I walked over to the hotel staff member, who thanked me for my help to resolve the situation. Just past him and the doors to another area, a nearly broken hefty chair.

"Is it even possible for one man to lift it?"

Lord Craven suddenly spoke, "At Cambridge, I was captain of the rugby team. It was no place for weaklings."

Time to talk to the medium.

"What happened here?"

"I don't know! The ghost… I summoned it as usual, but then it all went wrong. The lady screamed and pointed at Lord Craven… And there was a shadow! Such a mystical force! It terrified the lady. And it must have taken the diamond - who else could have?"

"Do you feel the presence of any supernatural entities at the moment?"

"Are you joking, sir? My nose is broken, this maniac wants to kill me, and you're asking about the spirits?"

"I suppose this can wait. I will investigate, and the culprit will be identified."

"But this stubborn brute, Lord Craven, blames me right now! As if I could do something like that! Perhaps you can reason with him? Please!"

"Seems like you are ready to delve into your mind palace, Sherry. I'm sure you'll make some good deductions!"

I'll enter my mind palace after I've looked around some more.

"Was this covered on purpose?"

"Of course!" The medium answered, "It is very dangerous to leave a mirror exposed during a seance! The spirits may become enraged.

"Or someone may notice the trick they should not see…" I muttered.

Next to the mirror were skulls littered on a shelf, three human and one animal with a candle.

"How can you not love this stuff, Sherry!? It adds so much atmosphere to the room!"

I looked at Emma on the couch. Her skin was pale, quickened pulse and unsteady breathing.

"She's barely conscious. Bah, the feebleness of women."

"Really, Sherry? Poor thing." Although it was Jon that scolded him, he could almost hear another voice, a more feminine one say it to him. 'How odd.'

_____________________________________________________________

AN: So much dialogue in this game, but I rather keep the majority of the dialogue the same when I can and when I feel up to typing it all out... Probably a few more chapters still till Sherry and y/n meet again. Lowkey forgot how much happened before the case I want to use to reintroduce our childhood friends. If you spot nay mistakes or have any ideas on how I can improve please let me know!

Chapter 3

[enarmor]

a kiss to convince the other to stay :)

//fe7 endgame au; sain has informed his lord that he wishes to resign from her service

"...!"

If there was ever a point in Sain's life where he failed Lady Lyndis as her knight, it's this very moment. Her kiss--the final reward of her lips pressed desperately against his--flips him inside out. Makes him a new man. Reverses everything he's ever stood for as Caelin's coolest casanova. He can't fulfill his duty to love her, to worship every inch of her body as though it were a masterpiece of its own. He cannot kiss her back; his jaw doesn't move. He is too stunned by the truth and shackled by the accursed knowledge that this isn't real to return any of her embrace. His hands remain at his side, clamped up and trembling--dreading the moment this would end.

Could he die now? So that his rest-laid soul might believe for eternity that they shared something genuine?

Reality is not so kind. She pulls away, slowly, and verbose Sain finds himself at a loss for words. Thousands of thoughts swarm through his head like a packed market square, but only fragments are vocalized, "Ahh... Lady Lyndis, you..." didn't mean that. "I can't..." stay with you. "Ah! m-my heart," it hurts, knowing what it can't ever have.

She would never understand.

He doesn't just want her in his arms like any old village girl; a simple kiss couldn't sway his heart. Lyn is different. Sain wants to be by her side, truly, till the end of his days. He wants to grow old with her, share memories and sweet words and food made from love. To wake up in the morning and see her gentle smile, to know that he--Sain--is her world: a vital part of her life she couldn't live without.

And it is that desire that burns an ever-gaping hole into his heart. He cannot fill it, not with his dedicated service, not with the wondrous smiles of the army's finest women. Ostia sounds nice, sure, but its beauty is tarnished by Sain's fate as 'just her knight'.

So he won't budge on his choice to leave. He has to grow into a new man, cast a new mold around his broken heart so that he may live in peace. Traveling on his own he might find someone new, and perhaps, succeed where he had once failed.

He strokes her cheek with the back of his finger, using a smile to fight off an onslaught of burning tears.

"My fair liege... I cannot be yours anymore. Castle life is ill-suited to one such as I, who must roam free in search of glory." It's the best excuse he can come up with, "Do not think of me as leaving. I'm a bird you must let fly through the open air, lest my wings begin to fail me."

He takes her hand into his, bringing it close to his chin for one last kiss. He hasn't earned another against her face.

"Thank you... For everything. Look after Kent for me, okay?"

[kinomicidiuz]

I alredy told you about the love story between this two and of course now you think they have a happy ever after they never fight they never have bad days well now i will tell you a story where they have a huge fight.

Nightmare comes home all angry he had a really rough day and just want to sleep but of course Grillby decided to have a romantic lunch with him he prepared a nice dinner with all the things Nightmare loves he puts candles on the table and buys roses for his prince. When nightmare opens the door there is Grillby standing in front of him with a giant bouquet in his hands the older one looks at him coldly "i just want to sleep" Grillby puts the flowers aside understanding his husbands needs but still a bit sad because they dont often do things like this for each other "its okay love,we can do this later" the prince watches as he begins to clean the table with a sad look and this was the moment he snapped he didnt know why maybe because hes tired maybe because he hates to see his husband sad,he slammed his hand on the table screaming "i cant to this anymore" the smaller one looks at him surprised "you always play the victim,every time i dont do what you want you start to fucking cry! Im so tired of this so tired of this life so tired of _you_" he watch as the man in front of him starts to tear up looking down at the floor "i wish i never met you,maybe i couldve married killer" saying so nightmare goes upstairs leaving his husband on the floor sobbing and trembling with a broken heart. They spent the rest of the day in silence but the older is starting to feel bad he didnt know why he sayd all that he truly loves his husband meeting him was the best thing that happened to him and marring someone else wouldnt bring him the feelings he has married to grillby he loves his husband with all his heart and would never harm him he promised himself to always protect him no matter what instead he scared him made him cry he felt ashamed, loving his husband he approced him and wrapped his arms around his wrist Grillby flinced at his touch relaxing at the feeling of kissed on his neck the older moves his hands caressing his chest continuing to suck gently on his neck earning sweet moans from the man below he picked up the moaning boy walking to theyr bedroom closing the door and placing him gently on the bed looking in his eyes for consent Grillby just looked at him blushing "just be gentle" Nightmare took his hands kissing them "i swear on my head my beloved i will not demage any part of your skin" he started sto strip him kissing every centimeter of his skin with growing desire. Soon the fire boy is laying naked under him a masterpiece for the older one who passed his hands on his body caressing his chest while turning his skin purple, moans filled the air pleasure filled his body and love filled his heart, Nightmare stops to look at his husband with love in his eyes placing sweet kisses on his cheek while caressing the other feeling the warmth looking in his eyes " god youre so beautiful how could i be more lucky?" The words making Grillby deeply blush "i love you so much" kissed the smaller boy who kisses back tearing up "dont cry my love please every tear on your face is a scar on my heart" that night he made love to the younger, once again moans filled the air but he never hurt him once,the prince showered him with kisses and loved him like he never did watchs as the smaller moans squeezing the sheets with broken voice begs his husband "more,please dont stop" the words make Nightmare even more lustful "your wish is my command" he hit all the good spots making him cry and tremble from pleasure the prince hugs his husband and together reach theyr climax. Now he is cuddling him giving him sweet kisses and whispers sweet nothings "you are the eighth wonder of the world" he kisses him "i love you so much,so precious so beautiful" and so he kisses his again "im glad to be your husband i never ment to hurt you i was just tired im so sorry my beloved" he felt hands cup his face and kiss his sweetly like honey "i know dont worry i know you would never lets just love each other now" its normal to argue its normal to make mistakes the important is to never let that break love never let that separate you,never.

[pierofilm]

Kei huh? From &team? i always liked him and EJ (buuuuut ooooh Ej......love Ej) ....have you seen the muscles on K though? Man is unreal. he's like a machine.

Seriously, don't rush route 1. that is seriously a masterpiece in the making and it shouldn't be posted unless you had rendered your fullest thought process into it. I totally understand that the spark died down, and that's fine, those idiots wont get to enjoy it because they'll be long gone by then. the spark will lighten back up again and when it does, you'll slay. it is truly a fic story that deserves patience and time because its a remarkable read. for someone like me to say that and be patient for route 1's finale, truuuuuuuust me....girl you're going to find out soon that i'm probably the biggest route 1 fan of them all. you'll see after a bit. and taking a break from enha isn't a bad thing, it's good to switch it up <3 in the meantime my yuanwon-ie or my kei-yuan, whichever you're in the mood for ;) it's musing-tuesday goodness for you.

okay but seriously......what in the actual hell Mr. Yang, Jungwon!?

On a side note, even though we dont know what we look like, i can already tell you're beautiful bc creative minds come in very pretty packages. <3

🦋

#@🤡anon #guessyouregonnamissout #R1isgoingtobesoooooogoooood #andyouaintgonna #getanyofit #karamaisreal #rememberthat #to🤡anon #itsokay #westillwilling #toloveyou #andgiveyou #goodshittoread #eventhough #youwakeup #everymorning #takingout #yourfrustrations #onothers #werehere #foryou #becauseweown #thisshit #andthankyou #forbeinginspiration #tomynextvillian

KEI IS INDEED A MONSTER- and yes EJ lol idk which one of them is my bias wrecker anymore 😭😭 they just rlly had their unique qualities and charms it's hard to choose but Kei won my heart for now >< BUT OMG i know I've said this many times alrd but truly I'm thankful for these long long paragraphs, i love each word!!! I feel so appreciated and loved by this, Nana !! I appreciate u sm, and reading this gives me alot of energy and motivation boost to keep going <3 THANK U VERY VERY MUCH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART 💓💓 yuanwon-ie and kei-yuan is so freaking cute lol im crying 😭😭

THIS WON PICS THO, IM SO PAMPERED WITH WON PICS <33 😩😩😩 NANA U R THE BEST THANK U, U PUT SM EFFORT AND TIME ON ME LIKE ILYYYY???

ALSO I LUV THE TAGS LMAOO IT MADE ME WHEEZED 😭✋✋✋ U MADE MY DAY TYYYSM 💓💓

[kawachinoyuumi]

As time goes on the more I'm repulsed with the term 'mid'

its just an irritating term with how people use it constantly to be dismissive of stories

Just say something is okay, average, etc

the fact 'mid' has come to mean 'average are the same as bad stories' essentially is a type of thought pattern i hate a lot and yet its basically a mainstream thought now

People that truly believe that 90% of everything is garbage are people I genuinely don't want to interact with. If you can't find beauty in most things then what's the point?

Or even if you CAN'T at least hype up stuff you DO like

rather than taking this weird irony poisoned stance to look down on anything that isn't a 'kino masterpiece'

[grillby-fire-lighter]

IT MADE ME POST THIS

I alredy told you about the love story between this two and of course now you think they have a happy ever after they never fight they never have bad days well now i will tell you a story where they have a huge fight.

Nightmare comes home all angry he had a really rough day and just want to sleep but of course Grillby decided to have a romantic lunch with him he prepared a nice dinner with all the things Nightmare loves he puts candles on the table and buys roses for his prince. When nightmare opens the door there is Grillby standing in front of him with a giant bouquet in his hands the older one looks at him coldly "i just want to sleep" Grillby puts the flowers aside understanding his husbands needs but still a bit sad because they dont often do things like this for each other "its okay love,we can do this later" the prince watches as he begins to clean the table with a sad look and this was the moment he snapped he didnt know why maybe because hes tired maybe because he hates to see his husband sad,he slammed his hand on the table screaming "i cant to this anymore" the smaller one looks at him surprised "you always play the victim,every time i dont do what you want you start to fucking cry! Im so tired of this so tired of this life so tired of _you_" he watch as the man in front of him starts to tear up looking down at the floor "i wish i never met you,maybe i couldve married killer" saying so nightmare goes upstairs leaving his husband on the floor sobbing and trembling with a broken heart. They spent the rest of the day in silence but the older is starting to feel bad he didnt know why he sayd all that he truly loves his husband meeting him was the best thing that happened to him and marring someone else wouldnt bring him the feelings he has married to grillby he loves his husband with all his heart and would never harm him he promised himself to always protect him no matter what instead he scared him made him cry he felt ashamed, loving his husband he approced him and wrapped his arms around his wrist Grillby flinced at his touch relaxing at the feeling of kissed on his neck the older moves his hands caressing his chest continuing to suck gently on his neck earning sweet moans from the man below he picked up the moaning boy walking to theyr bedroom closing the door and placing him gently on the bed looking in his eyes for consent Grillby just looked at him blushing "just be gentle" Nightmare took his hands kissing them "i swear on my head my beloved i will not demage any part of your skin" he started sto strip him kissing every centimeter of his skin with growing desire. Soon the fire boy is laying naked under him a masterpiece for the older one who passed his hands on his body caressing his chest while turning his skin purple, moans filled the air pleasure filled his body and love filled his heart, Nightmare stops to look at his husband with love in his eyes placing sweet kisses on his cheek while caressing the other feeling the warmth looking in his eyes " god youre so beautiful how could i be more lucky?" The words making Grillby deeply blush "i love you so much" kissed the smaller boy who kisses back tearing up "dont cry my love please every tear on your face is a scar on my heart" that night he made love to the younger, once again moans filled the air but he never hurt him once,the prince showered him with kisses and loved him like he never did watchs as the smaller moans squeezing the sheets with broken voice begs his husband "more,please dont stop" the words make Nightmare even more lustful "your wish is my command" he hit all the good spots making him cry and tremble from pleasure the prince hugs his husband and together reach theyr climax. Now he is cuddling him giving him sweet kisses and whispers sweet nothings "you are the eighth wonder of the world" he kisses him "i love you so much,so precious so beautiful" and so he kisses his again "im glad to be your husband i never ment to hurt you i was just tired im so sorry my beloved" he felt hands cup his face and kiss his sweetly like honey "i know dont worry i know you would never lets just love each other now" its normal to argue its normal to make mistakes the important is to never let that break love never let that separate you,never.

[zanova123]

Want Your Kisses to Feel Like Butter? The Secret Lies in Lip Balm!

       Just picture a radiant smile, framed by luscious, hydrated lips…truly the epitome of beauty, isn’t it? Who wouldn’t like having attractive lips? After all, they are the symbol of sensuality and youthfulness. In the world captivated by flawless skin and dazzling eyes, the significance of lip beauty and care cannot be overstated.  Just as a painter primes his canvas before creating a masterpiece, so too must we prepare our lips for their starring role in our daily beauty routine.

                     Lips are our most expressive features, but they also happen to be the most delicate, which is exactly why one has to be very careful while applying anything to the lips. 

Not being mindful about our lip care routine or failure to prioritize lip care can lead to problems like:

Dry chapped lips causing pain, irritation in the lips and even bleeding

Cold sores or cracked corners of the mouth

Premature formation of fine lines and wrinkles

Dull and lifeless look

Dryness and cracking 

Habit of lip-picking

Fortunately, the solution to these common lip woes lies within our reach - collagen lip balm!

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In the quest for velvety-soft lips, lip balm emerges as the unsung hero, offering a simple yet effective solution. Unlock the secret to butter-soft kisses and indulge in the luxury of luscious lips every day. Shine bright with smooth, hydrated, and irresistibly kissable lips with the best lip balm out there! Trust Zanova for the best Collagen Treatment Lip Balm!

FAQs -

1. How often should I apply lip balm?    - It depends on your lips' needs and the environment. Generally, applying lip balm every few hours or as needed, especially after eating or drinking, can help keep your lips moisturized.

2. Is it okay to share lip balm with others?    - It's generally best not to share lip balm to prevent the spread of germs and infections, especially if someone has cold sores or other lip conditions.

3. What ingredients should I look for in lip balm?    - Look for lip balms with ingredients like vitamin E, collagen, cocoa butter, coconut oil, or almond oil. Avoid lip balms with ingredients that may dry out your lips, such as menthol or camphor.

4. Can I use lip balm under lipstick?    - Yes, applying lip balm before lipstick can help keep your lips moisturized and prevent the lipstick from drying them out. Just make sure to let the lip balm absorb into your lips before applying lipstick.

5. Can lip balm expire?    - Yes, like any other skincare product, lip balm can expire. Check the expiration date on the packaging, and if it has expired, it's best to replace it to ensure its effectiveness.

6. Can I use lip balm overnight?    - Absolutely! Applying lip balm before bed can help hydrate your lips while you sleep, leaving them soft and moisturized in the morning.

7. What should I do if I have an allergic reaction to lip balm?     - If you experience any allergic reactions like itching, redness, or swelling after applying lip balm, stop using it immediately and consult a healthcare professional. They can help determine the cause of the reaction and recommend alternative products.

8. Can I use lip balm on chapped or cracked lips?     -Yes, lip balm can help soothe and moisturize chapped or cracked lips. Look for lip balms with hydrating ingredients like aloe Vera or vitamin E for extra healing properties.

9. Should I exfoliate my lips before applying lip balm?   -Exfoliating your lips can help remove dead skin cells and allow the lip balm to penetrate more effectively. You can gently exfoliate your lips using a lip scrub or a soft toothbrush before applying lip balm.

10. Can I use lip balm on sunburned lips?    -While lip balm can provide some relief for sunburned lips, it's essential to choose a soothing and hydrating formula without any irritating ingredients. Look for lip balms containing aloe Vera or calendula to help soothe sunburned lips.

[anonymoosen]

AHAAHA- SORRY FOR THE LONG ESSAY-ISH TEXT BUT I LOVE THIS WAY TOO MUCH NOT TO FANGIRL FOR OKAY!?!?

YOU DONT HAVE TO READ THIS BTW ITS JUST ME CRAZILY FANGIRLING ABOUT THIS LOLL

ANYWAY-

AHHHDSHHDNSJDSNDJSJ I KNEW THE WIP WAS GONNA BE AMAZIM, BUT THIS WHOLE THING— IT BLEW ME AWAY UNTIL I ENDED UP IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE

OKAY SO FIRST THINGS FIRST- THE FACT THAT U NOT JUST DREW THE CUTE KID VERSIONS, BUT ALSO THE SUPER ATTRACTIVE ADULT VERSIONS OF THE GANG LIKE I KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO DRAW LIKE 4 CHARACTERS

BUT NO- YOU DIDNT DRAW 4, BUT FRIGGIN FREAAAKING 8!! LIKE- WHOAAAA THE MOTIVATION I CANT LIKE I CANT COMPREHEND THIS TALENT OF YOURS ITS TOO GOOD (PLUS ITS NOT JUST 8 SINCE U ADDED GIR AND MIMI AND THE ROBOT SO BASICALLY- AHHHDHSJDJSJDJEJE UR MOTIVATION IS SO MUCH HOWWWWW!?!?)

ALSO, U NEED TO HAVE MORE FREEDOM MORE OFTEN CUZ LEAVING YOU TO DO ALL OF THISSSS!?! THIS- THIS MASTERPIECE!?! THIS IS RLLY TOO GOOD AHHDHSHD

I LOVE YOUNG DIB AND ZIMS REACTION TO THEIR OLDER SELVES DATING- LIKE YOUNG DIBS SO ANGRY AND CONFUSED ABOUT IT AND HES LIKE: “DUDE- AM I REALLY THAT DUMB!? WHY WLD I CHOOSE MY ENEMY AS A BF!?” WELL, DIB, ITS CUZ ENEMIES TO LOVERS EXIST, DUHHH

ALSOOOO I LOVE HOW ZIMS JUST SQUEEZING HIS DOLL IN ANGER THATS SO CUTE- YOUNG ZIM AND DIB ARE JUST YELLING AT THEIR OLDER SELVES I CANT I LOVE THIS KDMSMDMSK

AND ALSOOO (IM GONNA SAY ALSO A LOT CUZ THERES SRSLY A LOTTA GREAT THINGS ABOUT UR ART!!)

OLDER DIB JUST GRINNING AT ZIM SMUGLY!? THATS SO- THATS SO CUTE!?!? WHY IS THIS SO CUTE AHHDHSD DIBS TEASING ZIM LIKE THE SMUG ROMANTIC JERK HE IS I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC SO MUCH- BOTH THE YOUNG DIB AND ZIM AND THE OLDER VERS OF THEM

NOWWWW LETS FOCUS ON TAGR!! (YES I STILL HAVE A LOT MORE TO SAY CUZ- WHO WOULDNT HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS BEAUTY??)

OKAY- SO FOR THE YOUNG TAGR- AT THAT YOUNG AGE, GAZ IS ALREADY SHOWING HER SOFT SIDE FOR TAK BY PETTING HER HEAD- ITS A SMALL BUT SUPER SWEET GESTURE THAT MEANS A LOT TO ME HERE CUZ GAZ IS USUALLY SOMEONE WHO WOULDNT DO THOSE THINGS

AND YOUNG TAK IS CONFUSED BY THE GESTURE BUT OFC, IS RLLY INTO IT- SHES SO FRIGGIN CUTE OMG- GUYSYSYS LOOK AT HER BEAUTIFUL EYES AND HOW SHES HOLDING HER OTHER ARM IN CONFUSION AND HOW CRUCI DREW HER CAT HOODIE-

AND NOW FOR THE OLDER VERSION OF TAGR- ITS A BIG JUMP FROM JUST ZIMPLE HEAD PATS TO ADORABLE CUDDLING I LOVE HOW U PORTRAYED THEIR GROWTH IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP THEYRE SO FRIGGIN PRECIOUS SCREEEEEEEE

AND I ALSO LOVE HOW TAGR CONTRASTS ZADR HERE- THE BOYS ARE BEING ROWDY AND IN DENIAL ABOUT THEIR FUTURE RELATIONSHIP AND THE GIRLS ARE JUST ACCEPTING OF IT, LIKE U SAID, THEYRE JUST CHILLING AND ALL

ANYWAY, OTHER THAN THE ADORABLE SHIPS, IMMA TALK ABOUT HOW FRIGGIN GORGEOUS U MADE GAZ’S HAIR— SHES SO PRETTY!?!? I RLLY LOVE UR RENDERING SKILLS AHHHH

AND AGAIN, UR ART STYLE MAKES THINGS LOOK SO REALISTIC LIKE THE DETAILS IN THIS IS SO WELL DRAWN!! ALSO, THE ROBOTS— I DIDNT NOTICE THE PIG ONE EARLIER BUT I DO NOW AND I WANNA SAY HOW COOL IT LOOKS AHHHSHWHS

MIMI LOOKS SO COOL, GIR IS ADORABLE AND I LOVE HOW U DREW THE EXPRESSION FOR THE PAJAMA PARTY ROBOT! THEYRE ALL SO CUTE SCREEEEEEEEEEE

@porcelainfreak-zacrucian, U RLLY ARE THE COOLEST AND MORE PPL SHLD FOLLOW U CUZ- HOLY FRIGGIN DANGGG UR ART TRULY AMAZES ME

I'm done!!! I am finally fucking done! I did it!!! It's done! Fuck- GOD DAMN THIS COUCH IS OVERCROWDED

So I wanted to participate in @bonniecupcake 's art competition from the moment I saw it at the very least just for fun-

-And then I absolutely. Completely procrastinated until the last moment because finals ate my ass. And now I'm super late. Verrry late. But that's. Besides the point.

I also would like to explain why there are. Eight characters (and three robot characters) instead of four- And the explanation is practically. It's difficult for me to draw children. At least mentally it takes a lot of uh. Trusting the process. And so I wanted to do something that would make the whole thing easier and more fun for me. And somehow now I have eight fucking characters here which, admittedly, was hell, but it was fun hell, which is essentially just art so I believe! Brain trickery? Nailed it.

Also I just decided that adding older ZaDr and TaGr would be interesting and practically you just shouldn't. You just shouldn't give me freedom like that really. Because I'm gonna use it and create a little scenario in my head where all of them sat down to watch a shitty melodrama and no one is paying attention, because while the Taks and Gazs are just vibing, Dibs and Zims are arguing very loudly whether or not true love exists. Older Dib, by the way, is the only one saying that it does. His younger self is quite disappointed at him getting soft, and older Zim? Flustered. Super flustered. Or a different way to describe this situation: older Zim and Dib have been in a romantic relationship for a while now and NO ONE out of the four can resist being a little immature bitch about it!

[abramstalks]

The Art of Beauty

Wake up! Wake up! The sunrise is happening right now. As we all simply progress through life, we are all met with the most beautiful of visions. Whether it is watching a sunrise/sunset on the boat or looking over a massive mountain to be met with the most spectacular view. We all travel through these visions, sometimes unnoted. Therefore, as I look through my past Tumblr posts I am presented with a variety of different types of photographs and visualizing speech about beautiful views and the effect of these particular things, further creating a sense of this being my overall theme.

For example, in my “Photographer’s Eye” assignments you are met with a variety of different arts, including mountains, sunsets, hikes, and other beautiful scenes. The feelings these exact pictures make one feel is truly amazing. Upon viewing sunsets, in particular, you can feel a sort of out-of-body wrath upon your soul when met with this kind of beauty. In short, Beauty is all around us, if only we take the time to look. From the way the sun sets over the horizon, to the vibrant colors of a blooming flower, there is magic in every scene. Take the time to appreciate the beauty that surrounds you, and let it fill your heart with joy. Whether you're walking through a park, taking a hike in the mountains, or simply sitting on your porch, there is beauty to be found. So, take a deep breath, look around, and let the beauty of the world fill you with wonder.

Another one of my recent Tumblr posts that also have a similar theme is titled “My Favorite Work of Art”. a canvas of colors, a breathtaking masterpiece that is constantly changing. As the sun rises and sets, the colors of the sky shift and blend together, creating a stunning display of light and color. In the early morning, the sky is often painted in shades of pink and orange, as the sun begins to rise over the horizon. The colors are soft and gentle as if the sky is still waking up from a peaceful slumber. As the sun climbs higher in the sky, the colors become more vibrant, with shades of yellow and gold mixing with pastel pinks and oranges. As the day wears on, the sky becomes a brilliant blue, a perfect backdrop for the world below. The blue is so rich and deep, it seems to go on forever, stretching out into infinity. It's a color that can make you feel calm and serene as if everything in the world is right. As the sun begins to set, the sky once again becomes a canvas of colors. The pinks and oranges return, but this time they are joined by deep purples and fiery reds. The colors are so intense, so vibrant, that it feels as if the sky is on fire. It's a moment of pure magic, watch in awe. And as the sun disappears below the horizon, the colors slowly fade away, leaving behind a deep, dark blue. It's a peaceful color, a color that makes you feel as if everything is going to be okay. It's a reminder that even in the darkest of moments, there is beauty to be found if only you take the time to look.

Lastly, in another blog titled “Module 14 Assignment: Ekphrasis,” I talked heavily about how the production of art can make one feel a sense of direction and also how the particular piece of art allowed their readers to truly understand all hidden messages conveyed in each art piece (when art is truly dissected of its meaning). Art truly has a way of touching our souls, stirring up emotions we didn't even know we had. From the vibrant colors to the intricate details, there is something about a piece of art that can leave us feeling breathless. When we look at a piece of art, we are transported to another world, a world where anything is possible. We are free to explore our emotions and feel whatever it is we need to feel in that moment. Some art may make us feel happy and carefree, while others may evoke feelings of sadness or longing. Whatever the emotion, art has a way of making us feel deeply, of connecting us to something greater than ourselves. Art can also inspire us, pushing us to be better, to do more, and to create something of our own. It can be a catalyst for change, a way of sparking our imaginations and our passions. When we look at a piece of art, we are reminded of the beauty of the world, of the limitless possibilities that exist all around us. And while art can be deeply personal, it is also something that can bring people together. It can be a way of fostering connections, of building bridges between people who may have nothing else in common. Art can be a universal language, a way of communicating ideas and emotions that transcend borders and boundaries. In short, art is a powerful force in our lives, one that can move us, inspire us, and connect us to something greater than ourselves. So the next time you look at a piece of art, take a moment to really feel it, to let it wash over you and remind you of the beauty and wonder of the world.