#music truly does play my heartstrings
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say what you will about riptide being an overplayed song best known for wannabe ukulele girls--the lyrics in the chorus, I love you when you're singing that song / And I got a lump in my throat /'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong are the most lovely encapsulation of the way you feel when you utterly adore a person and they're doing a little affectionately annoying endearing habit of theirs that you argue about all the time so much that it's not an argument it's another way to say I love you and the way that emotion just rises and you can't join in you can't sing the right words you just have to listen and let the wave of love wash over you and hope it leaves you alive after because you're drowning and drowning and it's so sudden...almost like a....
#ignore meee I'm feeling sentimental on a saturday late night#listening to an iwaoi playlist and dancing in front of a mirror#personal#music truly does play my heartstrings#one thing I utterly adore about being born in the 21st century is the ability to carry music with me#just. I like a song#I pull it up#I play it? unthinkable in other centuries yes I'm rambling#never been in love but I have felt the edge of it and this song always reminds me of it
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Stephen Sanchez
Traveling Troubadour
By Emma Fox
Since his hit single “Until I Found You” went Triple Platinum, generated over 2 billion streams, and made the Top 25 of Billboard Hot 100, Stephen Sanchez has proven himself to be quite the powerhouse in music. Additionally, after the release of his debut album, Angel Face, Sanchez sold out his first ever headline tour, earning acclaim from the likes of Rolling Stone, Vogue, Billboard, and more.
We got the chance to chat with Sanchez following the release of the highly anticipated Angel Face (Club Deluxe), as he anticipates his worldwide fall tour. He discussed influences in songwriting, the depth behind his lyrics, and what we can expect from him down the road.
When asked about his influences and inspirations, Sanchez gave us some insight into a more intimate side of his creative process. Sanchez spoke of the films that he takes inspiration from, specifically Lost in Translation.
He stated that love is a “wonderful escape from reality a lot of the time, and then love becomes real once you shake off all the clouds.”
Films similar to this one that truly align with his songwriting and storyline as an artist he said are very inspiring, reminding him of “that magic, but also that reality of heartache and of circumstance pulling two people away from each other”.
A lot of Sanchez’s music is known to tug at the heartstrings, and his songs carry a lot of emotional weight within their lyrics. Storytelling is something that Stephen Sanchez does like no other, and for him, it’s exciting to be able to write from real stories and real feelings that have happened in his life, but then to “hide behind a character so it feels like it lessens the blow of vulnerability”.
Sanchez’s album Angel Face follows the story of the fictional musician/character The Troubadour Sanchez, who blew up in 1958 with “Until I Found You” and fell in love with Evangeline in 1964. Angel Face serves as his “long lost debut” that has been unearthed 59 years later.
During our chat, Sanchez was asked about what advice he would have for one of
his listeners if they found their way into a forbidden romance just like Troubadour Sanchez, in order for them to achieve a storybook ending.
Sanchez laughed and responded, “Oh my god, don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t do any of what that character did.”
He continued, “Storybook endings, what even are those? Who even knows? To each their own.”
Finishing his answer with some solid advice, he told listeners to “pursue a thing that’s healthy. They want to know you. You want to know them, that’s it. You’re on the same page”.
As we look ahead and see what the future looks like for Stephen Sanchez, there’s a lot to look forward to with the upcoming fall tour. Sanchez’s first headline tour told the story of Troubadour Sanchez, where on stage Sanchez and his band played the ghosts of the characters existing in the album, haunting each venue and walking fans through the storyline.
This time around however, fans can expect to be taken further back and have the opportunity to experience “the real thing, as if you were back in the 50’s, actually seeing The Troubadour Sanchez and the Moon Crests live.”
The journey and growth of Stephen Sanchez has been an incredible one to watch, and his influence is only continuing to rise. His ability to transform a room, command a stage, and take you back in time with his nostalgic aesthetic, smooth vocal tones, and powerful and emotionally intense songwriting is something that is a true testament to Sanchez’s pure talent and potential. We are so excited to see what he has up his sleeve next!
Copyright ©2024 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: September 2, 2024.
Photos by Emily DiMarcangelo © 2023. All rights reserved.
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holy shoot i wasn't ready for this. of course i couldn't wait to read it, not longer than 24h after finishing pt.2, i just needed to continue this story
1. this was INSTENSE intense. whoa. i need a cold shower now.
2. i have to address this first before going deeper into my commentary... WHO DO YOU LOVE??? i'm gonna be thinking about this for every waking second of my days until i can read further. (also why did the old ass conor maynard song with the same name start in my head bf of this line lmao)
3. carlos being so happy to see her in his clothing 😭 also how it feels natural for them to cuddle on the sofa and feeling safe warm and happy I'M NOT OKAY
4. NO NOT THE BLONDIE ARRIVING WHEN SHE LEAVES </3 why does every man have to break her heart???
5. when she wakes up to music playing in their house... i wanna wake uo to charles playing piano too :(( it's him right? -> later addition: it is him 😭
6. CHARLES BRAIDING HER HAIR AND CHANGING HER AND JUST BEING SO CARING 😭😭😭 i'm so torn btw these two men now idk how she manages to live 😭
7. "he'd clouded your emotions, nothing was black-and-white with your husband, just a cacophony of colors." such a gorgeous line, it pulls my heartstrings and makes me stupidly emotional. the writing talent!!!
8. "yet... he had given up his mistress for you. he'd given up something that made him happy because you were not." now THAT was phrased perfectly. honestly. so so so good.
9. pascale loving her so much 😭😭😭 it's curing me. helping me heal. <333 also, "she had grown to adore you; your mannerisms, laughter and the fact that you clearly held a candle for charles, despite the dwindling flame of the marriage." THIS LINE!!!! LEAVE SOME TALENT FOR THE REST OF US JAY THIS SHOULD BE ILLEGAL!!! oh and ofc let's not forget about "if she had a daughter, she'd want her to be just like you." i'm sobbing 😭
10. "hello beautiful" and "hello handsome" AHHHH SCREAMING CRYING also charles grinning even harder hearing this and even her being surprised she said that and him instantly loving it and forgetting everything (flower and dress) THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME
11. "something tells me that won't fit you, charles." this deserved its own mention bc i actually snorted reading this and i love a fic that achieves that in me
12. UH OH CARLOS PLAYING DIRTY NOW ARE WE jesus h roosevelt christ the scene in his driver's room is the death of me
13. charles winning a race made me actually get teary eyed and start sniffing bc i just want him to win something so bad finally that even if it's only in a fic i start crying in happiness 😭😭
14. carlos holding her to him when they are in public AND charles noticing it PAIN. for both of them.
15. i'm in such an inner conflict rn, idk really how she can cope bc this is hurting. this is painful. i love them both sm :'( part of me wants her to give charles a second chance and allow them to be a happily married couple but another part is telling me that charles played his chance and broke her in many ways and carlos was there for her always and she would be so happy with him and like WHICH ONE TO CHOOSE 😭
am i okay? no and yes. at the same time. no bc of this conflict in me and yes bc i could read this. SPEECHLESS. this talent of yours is truly out of this world, main spot in a fancy bookstore kind of perfect. i feel privileged to have read something like this story.
You Think, You Know | CL16 & CS55
Summary: Some bridges are due to burn, whilst others are destined to mend. Charles wants to lead you into a traditional happily-ever-after, whilst Carlos is still adamant that he can always treat you better. Part 3 of ‘A House, A Home.’
Word Count: 11.3k
Warnings: angst, shouting, a lot of swearing, mentions of cheating and divorce. SMUT. Non-protected sex, oral (M&F receiving,) squirting, degradation, aftercare always.
Note: Thank you all so, SO much for being so patient with me. I really wanted this to be something special and I hope you all enjoy it. Please don't get mad at me because this one is emotional. A massive thank you to my biggest cheerleaders, @oconso, @formulaforza, @a-distantdreamer & @silverstonesainz - I love you all so much.
PART 1: A House, A Home | PART 2: Where Do We Go? | PART 3: 'You Think, You Know'
You loved your sleep.
There was never too much that could wake you from your slumber. Currently, with the combined sensations of crisp sheets tucked across your frame, soft sunlight drawing through the transparent curtains of the bedroom and snug, strapping arms encircling your waist, it would have to be some form of miracle to awaken you.
The form of this came in the body pressed tightly into your back; smoothly, a pair of lips are drawn to your cheekbone, satin kisses being dropped against your skin. Was it possible to awaken to such a soothing interaction? Your face is drawn to the feeling, turning in his interlocked arms, the side of your face nuzzling into the cushion as your eyes meet the deep, dark pools of his.
“Good morning.” Carlos whispers, joyful at your rise from shuteye. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there himself, simply basking in the pleasure of holding the girl of his dreams against his firm body. The man was constantly on a lifeline; each time you interacted with him, he’s certain it would be his last, that one day, you’ll be violently ripped from his arms and his heart.
Suspended in thought, the Spainard is drawn back to reality with the glowing touch of your palm on his skin. Immediately, one of his arms draws away from your waist, resting his own larger hand atop of yours. You look alluring like this; sleep still decorates your eyes, hair tangled from the deep sleep, yet perfect in every sense of the word.
“Morning.” You respond, allowing yourself to set your gaze upon his face for a little longer. It’s a sin, settling in your stomach at how that same face had lifted from between your leg’s mere hours ago, the remanence of your arousal ever-present atop his stubble. You were certain he had a mouth crafted by the angels, the way his lips had toyed with your most sensitive parts and the way they currently pulled into an enticing smile in the present.
Two bodies, two souls were entwined in that bed; you weren’t too sure how long you lay there alongside him, reveling in one another’s morning appearances. All you know in that moment is Carlos is overtaking your mind, sprinting through every vein in your body. Every unanswered question from the previous night rendered numb as the man leant forward in your touch, his lips gaining space on your own.
There’s a sudden, sharp buzz from the other room, causing you both to retract from one another, bodies deep in the king-size mattress. A chuckle leaves his own mouth, running a heavy hand across his face, heart still pounding from the sudden jump of sound in the silent apartment. Something in your heart told you that buzz was for you. Whining from the sudden loss of warmth, you remove yourself from the bundle of blankets and body heat, bare feet padding into his living room, aware of your mobile phone, resting atop of the counter.
The device gave a heavy buzz once more before you had the realization to pick it up, the battery barely there. You absent-mindedly call out to the man in the bedroom, asking if he had a phone charger you could borrow for a little while. There's clutter from the other room, clearly trying to find a space for your own phone. Whilst that incurred, your eyes flickered across the darkening screen, skin turning cold upon reading the text notifications.
02:51: Charles Leclerc
I’m in love with you.
02:53: Charles Leclerc
I’m so sorry she was there – I had no idea. She’s gone now, can I come and collect you? Where are you?
03:25: Charles Leclerc
Please let me know you’re safe as soon as you can. Can I come and see you in the morning, please?
08:47: Charles Leclerc
Good morning, my love. How are you feeling today?
Guilt washed through your stomach, not for the interaction you had shared with Carlos; Charles had done substantially worse to you for the past twelve months. No, you knew what it felt like to have no response from somebody you cared for, terrified for their well-being. Even when Charles hadn’t cared for you, you had still nursed him, waiting up for his return in the early hours of the morning.
With the remainder of your phone battery, fingers fly over the keyboard. Did you want your husband to come and collect you, specifically from his teammates home? He was aware of your building friendship with the Spainard, even if it wasn’t entirely platonic. There wasn’t a huge choice; you especially didn’t want to demand or pry a lift off Carlos, especially after he had come to collect you so late the previous night.
08:58: You
Good morning, I’m at Carlos’ place. I’d really appreciate a lift back to the house, if that’s okay.
The message barely had time to send before it’s marked as ‘read’. Immediately, the blue speech bubble pops to the lower corner of your phone, signaling a response was being formed.
09:00: Charles Leclerc
You don’t need to even ask. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes was not enough time to conceal everything which had happened in the previous hours. Feet now cold, legs now littered in goosebumps, you’d scrambled back into his bedroom, the man now on his own feet, those damn gray jogging bottoms hanging on his hips, a visible outline ever-present. It took your entire soul to remain strong, knowing how tempting this man could become in a matter of moments.
“Charles is on the way.” You state, suspecting that it would cease all his movements, and allow yourself to get ready for your husband’s arrival. Instead, he’d stepped closer to your frame, leaning his toned torso towards you, locking you in his muscled arms, hiding his face in the skin he’d licked and bitten across the previous night. His mumbles are incoherent, littering across your neck in broken Spanish. He’s saying something. Something you can’t understand but is undeniably a plea for you to stay in his arms.
Carlos stays pretty much attached to you the entire time you’re preparing for your departure; his body is pressed against yours, littering kisses to the crown of your head whilst you brush your teeth. His scent is so dominating on the hoodie he insists you borrow, slipping that atop of your frame whilst pulling on the bottoms you had wiggled out of the previous evening. The man’s heart explodes upon seeing you bundled into his clothing, a possessive streak striking through his body and soul.
When your bag is packed, face washed and phone charging, now on the counter of his kitchen, you spend the last few minutes waiting for your husband’s adamant arrival by bundling into Carlos’ side on his plush sofa. It feels entirely natural by this point; his arms encircle your waist, letting you lie against his sternum, soothing yourself to his naturally steady heartbeat. A snippet of your heart desires to take this sole moment and capture it for a lifetime. Safe. Warm. Happy.
The moment is wafted away from you both with the sudden rapping of knuckles on the front door. Whining, your eyes trail on the Spaniard, focused as he presses a final, fleeting kiss to your temple, pulls himself up from the couch and paces towards the hallway. Your own ears strain to hear the latch lift of the front door, Charles praises for looking after you the previous evening falling over his lips, two pairs of footsteps drawing into the front room.
Your husband, despite his usual god-like appearance, looked terrible. His hair pushed to the front, clearly in need of a wash and brush. His skin was rubbed raw, face bloodshot; clearly, he hadn’t got a single moment of sleep the previous night, still dressed in the clothes he’d traveled home in the previous night. Despite the heavy lids of his eyes, they still light up when falling onto you.
“Good morning.” He gives you a smile, only you. You can feel Carlos’ disappointment, even if you can’t see his eyesight at that moment. A pocket-sized smile from your own lips is offered in return, pulling yourself up in that moment, reaching for your bag which remained on the floor, slipping into your soft sneakers.
“Are you ready?” You’d asked softly. Charles’ mouth opened, hesitating before he spoke. He was thinking clearly.
“I just need to speak to Carlos quickly. Something…private.” He tries to explain his standings, tries to make you feel less awkward as he reaches for the car keys resting in his hoodie pocket. “Are you okay to wait in the car?” He asks softly. He feels in no power to demand your movements, yet he requires one private word with his teammate.
Your eyes don’t bother to meet Charles, instead immediately flying to meet the dark ones of your unofficial lover. What on god’s earth was your husband about to ask, and why did he want to do it out of your earshot? The look that you give the man says a thousand words, asking if he needs you to stay, hold your ground against Charles. The warm eyes of him give everything you need, silently promising he could handle this man. An entire conversation through looks alone, a skill the two of you had developed so naturally.
Silently, you take the keys from Charles’ outstretched hand, skin flinching when being pressed against the cool metal. You don’t so much as glance in his direction when you’re walking to the counter, picking up your phone and stuffing it into the pouch of your borrowed hoodie. When turning on your heel, you pace back to Carlos, pressing a surprising kiss to his right cheek, murmuring a ‘Thank You,’ just for his hospitality, of course. You had done all the thanking for the number of orgasms you were granted the previous night.
The walk towards your husband’s car, the SUV rather than his identifiable Pista, your mind clouded, clotted with an array of questions. Why did Charles need to speak to Carlos alone? Was he aware of the relationship the two had been sharing for an undefinable amount of time? Who on earth was the blonde woman giving you a death stare as she walked up the pathway to the complex, red lips practically hissing at your appearance, storming past you within half a second?
When you turn back to take in her appearance from behind, a sense of sickness settles into your stomach. You’d seen the back of that blonde head before; not in person, but rather on a phone screen. Your phone screen, held between white knuckles as you’d watched the man you had begun to fall for wrap his arms around another woman's lips meshed in a private nightclub, unaware of the multiple cameras capturing their searing moment.
That was the same woman, identical in her mannerisms. You felt your tummy curdle into pain, into your vague realization that the only reason Carlos had offered you a place in his home, and subsequently his bed that evening, was because he was trying to fill a void until she returned to the scene. Your stomach wanted nothing more than to empty its remaining content in sheer shock. Instead, you breathe deeply, unlocking the door to the car, climbing into the passenger seat and closing your eyes, relaxing into the plush leather of the upholstery.
You’re not sure how long your husband takes, eyes growing heavy as you await his return. It’s only realized when the driver’s door clicks open, rolling in your seat to watch as Charles climbs into his own, a frown resting at the bottom of his face. However, it’s immediately vanquished when his eyes latch onto your own, grinning at your presence, so close to him. A warm hand reaches out, brushing over the back of your head, sheerly enjoying the comfort you radiated. He'd been lost without you for the past twelve hours.
Your eyes begin to feel heavy again, though you’re determined to get through the car ride alert, even if the soft scent of his cologne and the gentle lulling tunes from the morning radio are drawing you back to your previous state. Instead, you think of that woman. No, not the mistress you had grown numb to; the blonde woman, the one pressed against Carlos’ chest and lips mere hours after you had been. The glint in your husband’s eye is telling as you go through your endless thoughts, he knows something.
“The blonde lady going into Carlos’ apartment.” Your voice is completely out of pocket, echoing through the front of the SUV. “Who was she?” There’s no beating around with the question you had asked; there’s no trying to sugar coat what you needed to know. Charles knows it, too. He knows he can’t hide the truth from you, you’re too smart for lies and manipulation, a year married with a mistress had taught him that.
Instead, he emits a deep sigh from his lips, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as he focuses on the road. “Natasha.” The name falls from his lips, he can’t meet your gaze, not when speaking about another woman to his wife. “She used to work for Ferrari’s PR but left just under a year ago. Carlos and her used to-“
“Date?” You’d cut him off without realizing, eyes widening when he’d shaken his head.
“No, not date.” He responds. “They just had…a thing. Something.” He finished his train of thought, still not mentally ready to turn to you. In a comforting way, you were glad he hadn’t; Charles was unable to see the tears pooling at your lower lash line, the desire to rip off the hoodie now suffocating your body. You learnt in your heart that moment, you were apparently nothing special to Carlos. No, he had a thing. Something, with any woman who passed his way was as a wandering fancy.
The tears decorating your eyes and desire to relax into the leather seat eventually overpowers your emotionally drained body, pulling you back into a slumber.
You loved the sound of music.
A faint tune, one you were certain you’d never heard before lured through your ears, drawing you back to consciousness. You couldn’t remember getting home, let alone getting out of the car and tucking yourself into the comfort of your own bed. Groaning, you’d sat yourself up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and stretching the twinge in your back simultaneously.
The music wasn’t coming from your room; the sound was beautiful, you just needed to locate its source. Your feet twinge when they touch the floor, cool floorboards easing the temperature of your socks. Opening the ajar door to your bedroom, the music grows louder, sound clearly emitting from downstairs, your feet carry you to the staircase with no hesitation. However, when reaching the top of the staircase, eyebrows crease together in confusion, taking in your once-ragged appearance in the crystal mirror.
Your hair had been braided, albeit not elegantly, but at least out of your face, something you did almost religiously before sleeping. Your attire had changed, too, once you were dressed in Carlos’ sage hoodie. Now, your body was engulfed by Charles’ charcoal jumper, sleeves too long but an entire comfort for your drained mind. Is this what it felt like, to be nurtured and cared for by your husband? The pit of your stomach felt airy; this had been everything you desired for so long. And yet, now you had experienced somebody else, despite the heartbreak, your mind was utterly torn.
Music grows louder, your mind is suddenly focused back on its original target. With no hesitation now, you began to walk down the flight of stairs, noting your bag and phone resting by the front door. Even with as many notifications as you’d missed in your time asleep, priorities overtook, making your way towards the lounge, eyes transfixed on the figure by the French windows.
Charles Leclerc sat, comfortably and quietly, gentle fingers dancing over the keys of his piano. The soft lights of the room illuminated the figure, a tune you had never heard was fluttering around the open space.
Of course, you had heard him play the instrument multiple times; during his time spent at the house rather than on the track, he remained transfixed, creating new songs, finding some way to pour every emotion into some kind of melody. You’d lost track of the times you’d come downstairs to get a drink, put the washing into the machine and had instead pushed your body into the doorframe, eyes fixed upon your husband as he created the most beautiful sounds.
The last time you’d done that, his mistress had been present, leaving over the piano as Charles played her an elegant tune. When she had gone to lean over him, her own fingers wanting to press down against the keys, he’d rested a firm hand on her arm, insisting that she sit on the sofa and listen, instead. The sweet moments of silently viewing your husband had turned sour; you’d silently vowed that day you would never enter the room when he was playing again.
You’d broken that promise mere seconds ago, eyes transfixed upon your husband. You can feel the tension beneath his fingers, as if he’s trying to take the sheer thoughts of everything that had been embedded into his mind in the past twenty-four hours and mesh them into some kind of audible release. Underneath the layers of music, your footsteps can’t be heard as you hesitantly walk towards the end of the living space. His tune reaches a climax, but before the piano can take any more notes, you cough lightly, Charles’ hands ceasing in mid-air. Arching his body weight, he sees your frame standing next to his piano, eyes still sleepy from awakening mere moments ago. The breath catches in the back of his throat; did you always look so perfect in his soft jumpers?
“I’m sorry.” He eventually offers, taking in your sweet, soft appearance. “Did I wake you?”
“No, no.” The reply tumbles from your lips before you even realize. “It was…beautiful, actually. Is it a new piece?” You ask, entranced by the music which had been flowing freely.
“I’m not sure yet.” He can’t help but smile at the end of his sentence. “I just sort of started playing and this is what came of it.” The explanation is valid; like many creatives, sometimes a free flow form was the simplest way to go. His next movement is almost a shock to your system. “Why don’t you come and help me?” The offer is completed when he shuffles up on the piano stool, patting on hand on the available gap. There’s hesitation in your movement, before his hand trails upwards, leaning to clasp one of your own, guiding you towards the stool.
There’s an overpowering smell of his cologne, a scent you were slowly drawing yourself towards. The body heat from his frame radiates into your own. Shyly, you reach out, pressing down on one of the piano keys, a tone spouting from the instrument. Charles can’t help but smile upon your interaction, eyes questioning as you analyze the instrument.
“Do you know how to play?” He asks gingerly, watching as you shake your head in response. His actions exchange, resting one of his warm palms over your own. The next moments are filled with your husband guiding your hands over the piano, teaching you the tune to old nursery rhymes. When you reach the end of the piece, he cheers in delight at the achievement.
“Play me something now.” You ask carefully, head becoming heavy, heavy enough to rest on your husband’s shoulder. When you feel his body tense, you immediately sit back up, convinced you’ve overstepped a line. That thought is soon relinquished when Charles’ hand flies out, wrapping around the back of your head and pulling you back down to his shoulder, your breath hot on his neck, it’s enough for him, hesitant to overstep the boundaries you were adamant upon currently.
His fingers move back, continuing the song he had been conducting earlier. The piece had started out slowly, almost sad-like, before building, building towards a romantic counterpart. In his mind, it was the perfect song to punctuate the relationship he maintained with his wife. They both sat there, barely any moment as the music was the only sound present in their house.
When the song finishes, neither of you move, relishing in the soft touch you’re both sharing. Charles’ own head falls atop of your own, letting his cheek rest against your hair. There’s no form of time between you both, simply enjoying being alive, alive with one another. It’s interrupted when you feel Charles’ take an exaggerated breath, removing his keys from the piano. One of his hands rests upon his side, the other slides between the minute gap between you both, wrapping a toned arm around your waist. The movement causes you to lift yourself from his firm shoulder, catching those beautiful eyes from your glance.
“I’m traveling to Monaco tomorrow.” He says it so casually, as if it’s as normal as entering or leaving the building. You can feel his heart race in anticipation of what he was due to say, his body temperature raising dramatically, radiating through his hoodie. You offer him a warming smile. You really didn’t want him to leave, not when you were growing so unnaturally fond of his presence.
“Oh really, what for?” Is the eventual reply. In this moment, you simply can’t hold his eye contact, he’s staring into your soul, it’s as if he can sense every thought which is currently trekking through your mind; does he know how much of a hold he has on you, even if your marriage was entirely staged, at least in his eyes.
“I’m off to see my mother” He clarifies. “It’s been a while and I just want to check in.” It’s a lie. You can tell from the way his body language changes; his hands are suddenly clenching tighter, his grip on your waist firm as if he’s terrified, you’ll run away. He can’t admit it, he’s not strong enough. If you step away, he will fall back to the way he was the previous night; eyes bloodshot, unable to sleep unless he knows you’re safe.
“Give her my best.” The response is blunt, short. You’re on entirely different wavelengths, different planets. He never told you of his reasoning for things; a golden rule you had learnt at the beginning of this era. Just…you’d never question him; you would simply co-exist. What he says next makes your blood run cold.
“Why don’t you come with me? I’d really appreciate it.” Why on earth would your estranged husband want you to come on his travels, presumably when the entire point was to spend the entirety of it wrapped in the arms of another woman. Yet, a feeling in your stomach settled. Did you actually want to spend hours in this empty house alone? Now that Carlos was no longer a welcome distraction, anything would be better than wallowing in your silence.
“I will.” You eventually respond. “On one condition.”
“Anything.” His eyes are wide, so willing. He’d scooted tighter towards you, as if he could hold together this entire conversation, stopping the whole world from crumbling around you. You must be the one to take a deep breath this time. You had to remain firm with your choices, with what you needed to know.
“What was in the white envelope that your mistress gave you yesterday?”
You loved the glow of candlelight.
Having never entered Charles’ study, his fingers interlocked with your own as he guided you through the heavy door, you didn’t realize how many candles he had resting around his office. They laid upon his windowsill, on his desk, he even had a mulberry-scented candle resting next to his racing simulator.
There was only one candle which was lit, he had obviously forgotten to extinguish it whilst you were deep in your slumber. Despite the fact you hadn’t ever been given access to this room, you’d have to make a mental note in order to check for any fire hazards the next time you were in the building alone.
The envelope resting upon the desk stuck out like a sore thumb; his computer, stationary, it was all a cool gray tone whereas the envelope stuck out in a bright white glow.
“I need you to know before you look at this, it’s a lot worse than it comes across.” Even in the candlelight, his face had turned pale, barely able to keep his fear from dancing across his emotions. You need to remain strong. You need to see what was left in the envelope.
Staying firm, your grasp reaches out towards the desk, taking the card into your own hands. “I want to see it.” You clarified, letting your finger trace under the flap of the envelope.
You don’t let your husband’s words overpower you, distract you in any way. Instead, your hand reaches into the envelope and grasps around a stack of…something. It feels like multiple pieces of paper pressed together, though one side remains glossy, as if printed onto a special sheet. Hesitantly, your hand pulls from the envelope, eyes immediately widening upon seeing the content in question.
It's photographs. Multiple photographs of Charles and his mistress. Some of them are casual, taken from her phone, smiling selfies and dinner dates. Others are…compromising, verging on pornographic. You can feel the lump in your throat tightening, tears are forming on your lower lash line, but you must keep strong. You cannot show any weakness when you ask to see this.
“That’s her, isn’t it?” Your voice betrays you, weakening as your words continue. “Your…girlfriend.” You don’t want to use the other word; it’s clear from these photographs it was more than sex, it was more than just an escapade.
“She’s- she’s not anymore.” Charles pauses, his eyes don’t focus on the photographs, only on you. His wife, who he has hurt so badly and now must see the pain littered across her face. “She hasn’t been since your mother passed away.”
Your heart stops at the mention of your mother, a sharp spike of longing for the woman suddenly danced through your chest. Then, you were angry. How dare he pity you, you didn’t want it, not from him. But…you still wanted him. He’d clouded your emotions, nothing was black-and-white with your husband, just a cacophony of colors.
“That was your reason for dumping her. Sympathy?” You don’t care how harsh your voice comes across, instead just aggravated you were growing to care about his reasoning. Life had been simpler weeks ago, when you simply stayed at home, minding your own business whilst he got on with his. By the look on Charles’ face, he wasn’t expecting the hostility, either.
“No! I dumped her because it was wrong, because I have a loving wife who I would give anything for.” The room goes silent, giving you time to process the words that had come from his lips. You had been so certain for so long that he didn’t care about you; that everything he did was for his own gain and pleasure. Yet…he had given up his mistress for you. He’d given up something that made him happy because you were not.
Stressing, you run a hand through your hair, placing the photographs back into the envelope, speaking to your husband as you place the card back onto his desk. You feel sick. These photographs exist and it was a perfect way to destroy the two of you, it was perfect ammunition to a metaphorical pistol. “So, what does she want you to do with these photographs?”
“Nothing.” Charles leans over your own body, reaching for a second stack of papers resting upon the desk, one you had considered would simply be notes from Scuderia Ferrari. Warm seeps through your body at his close contact, one hand almost trailing against your back as he grasps to the stack of crisp sheets, barely touched. “She’s threatened to publish them if I don’t sign…this.”
You took the stack of ivory papers into your palms. It was sprawled with a size twelve font, you were uncertain of where to begin until two words in bold took your attention, printed formally across the top of the page.
“Divorce Papers.” Your voice is barely a whisper, heart dropping to your stomach.
“That’s the other reason I’m going to Monaco.” He’s explaining his own status now, eyes glassy with the fear of you walking straight out of the office. He wouldn’t blame you, of course. He couldn’t blame you for anything anymore. Charles reaches out to your grasp, wiggling the paper from your fingers and placing them back against the desk. “I’m filing for a lawsuit against her, a restraining order for manipulation and stalking.”
A scoff falls from your lips; the mere contrast of the events from a few weeks ago compared to now. He truly intended to file a lawsuit against a woman who he’d happily let warm his bed whilst you went to bed each night with nothing but regret and bloodshot eyes. “Do you…do you want a divorce?” You can feel your voice cracking. “I mean, if she’s sent you these, you must have mentioned wanting one-”
“I did.” Charles doesn’t miss a beat. “I mentioned how I didn’t want a divorce because despite everything…I do care for you.” The room goes silent, not even the flickering of the candle or the soft wind from the French windows can pierce the tone of the room.
A huff escapes your lips, arms resting by your side as you formulate a response; “You had a really weird way of showing it.” Your response is blunt, it clearly warrants the sad look on your husband’s face.
“I know. That’s why I’m going to make it right. Please come to Monaco with me. She won’t be there; you don’t have to come to the lawyer with me. But…I need to be able to come back to my wife.” His hand reaches out, cradling your own in this moment. Gently, he lifts your palm to his cheek, resting it upon his stubble and letting his lips trace a kiss across the soft skin.
He truly does know how to make your heart flutter, despite everything.
“Okay.” You eventually respond, focused on his gaze when his eyes turn wide in anticipation.
“Yeah?” His heart is picking up in happiness, reaching to hold you in his own grasp, but instead falling short when you raise a finger, ceasing his movements towards your body.
“But…you need to give me tonight, alone. To process that.” Gently, you take a step forward, leaning gently towards him. You can’t leave him, not before you gently press a kiss to his cheek, turning on your heel, your figure illuminated in the corridor by the soft candlelight. “Goodnight, Charles.”
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
You loved the feeling of warm water.
There is only a slender picking of moments in your life where you have felt truly relaxed; sitting by the lake in the rolling fields your family had owned for generations, lounging in the bed of the Madrid-Based apartment your friends had hired for a holiday in the early spring morning.
You had never thought one of those relaxing moments would be as your mother-in-law massaged her hands through your locks, lathering an expensive shampoo into the roots of your hair. She was gentle; no tangles fell through her fingers as her rhythm stayed perfectly relaxing, hitting all the spots which would send a flood of relief through your scalp.
You’d arrived in Monaco early that morning, immediately being transported to the luxurious hotel your husband had booked you into. Most of the trips he’d book you wouldn’t attend, and when you did would be ignored by him altogether. This time, he’d remained present, willing. Your hands had entwined the moment you had left the privacy of the jet, nestling into the back of the car, eyes heavy from the early rise.
Not much is remembered after you’d arrived outside the opulent building; bags were removed and transported to your room by the bellhop, both you and your husband were given hotel cards, an older lady at the desk explaining the functions dotted around the high-end establishment. All you could remember was the door to the room opening, your tired body making a beeline towards the emperor bed, nuzzling into the soft furnishings with sleep overtaking you in a matter of moments.
Charles hadn’t been able to help the tug on his heartstrings as he’d seen you tumble into the mattress. You’d been so thoughtful; dropping everything back at your house and accompanying him to Monaco, promising to be there for him as he promised to fix the wounds from his previous mistakes. He’d give anything to crawl into the bed alongside you, wrap his frame around your own and fall back into his own slumber, one he had despised the night before simply because he wasn’t able to hold you in his arms. He was learning to respect your wishes; after all, he had a lot of repairing to do-so. Even after recent conversations with his Ferrari counterpart, he could never bring himself to hate you.
His phone buzzes from his back pocket and upon inspection he sees the reminder, he’s due with his lawyer in less than forty-five minutes, but he doesn’t want to leave you, not alone. A thought sparks into his head, fingers flying through his contacts and dropping a message to one, asking if they could take you over to his mother’s salon later in the afternoon. By the time he’s returned from changing in the en-suite and brushing a comb through his hair, the responses from both Joris and his mother had lit up his screen, confirming his plans for later in the afternoon.
Your husband had allowed himself one more look at you, so peaceful wrapped up in the comfort of the bed. Silently, he leans over your frame, running a gentle hand across the back of your head, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, murmuring his sweet words to your sleeping form.
When you’d awoken, there was a message clarifying that Joris would be taking you to his mother’s salon a little later and he would come to collect you once he was finished with his lawyer. That’s how you had ended up walking into her salon earlier that afternoon, her delighted smile present after seeing her daughter-in-law.
Pascale wasn’t stupid, that much was clear. She was aware of the strain in her middle son’s marriage, just not to the extent that he had been toying with a mistress for the better part of a year. However, she had grown to adore you; your mannerisms, laughter and the fact that you clearly held a candle for Charles, despite the dwindling flame of the marriage. If she had a daughter, she’d want her to be just like you.
“Are you and Charles up to anything this evening?” Her voice is gentle, motioning for you to stand up from the basin chair and walk towards the mirrors, resting yourself in one of the seats. Your reflection bores back into you, focused as Pascale adjusts your head slightly, brushing the tendrils of hair through her comb.
“I’m not sure.” You respond. “I know he has some business this morning.” It’s an understatement. When Joris had collected you from the hotel, he’d tried to give you what information he could – Charles had arrived at his Lawyer’s office, ready to file the case against his mistress. He wasn’t too sure how long it was going to take, though he had told Joris to be on hand for anything you needed when he couldn’t.
“You make him happy; you know?” Pascale mentions, tilting your head to angle your hair correctly. “I know he hasn’t always been…the greatest.” You’re not sure if she’s aware of everything, but her tone seems to stand where you need it to do so, “but you make…such an impact in his life.”
Not much else is said whilst the woman continues to trim your hair, adjusting your face as she does so. It was nice, not to be cooped up into a hotel room for the entirety of the day, nor to be sitting in Charles’ driver room whilst he walked around, finger entwined with his mistress. You’re so engrossed in Pascale drying your hair, setting the locks into soft rollers that you don’t realize when the door chimes open, another figure entering the quiet salon. The woman’s eyes brighten, and you hear her cooing before your own face turns, taking in the figure of your husband in the doorway.
Charles looks breath-taking. He’d clearly showered and changed since you had last seen him bundled in his travel gear that morning. Your deduction would be correct; the man had hastily returned to the hotel to jump into the shower, changing into a power blue shirt and white trousers. His hair, free of styling products curled in an unruly way, one that made his whole face structure elevate.
In his hands, he held both a soft white dress over his arm, one you had packed in your case fleetingly the evening before; it had been steamed and washed, the fabric clear and petticoats of the skirt floating gently. In his other hand, a vibrant bouquet of roses. His smile never faded, walking over to his mother and pressing a kiss to each of his mother’s cheeks. Once his attention turns towards you, his eyes only brighten.
“Hello, beautiful.” You can’t tell whether he’s playing up the affection in front of his mother, or whether it’s genuine. However, when one hand comes to rest on your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He’s being respectful; making sure not to cross a boundary.
“Hello, handsome.” The response falls from your lips without realizing, the grin on your husband's face only rising. Fuck. Did you mean to say that? Regardless, you had done, and by the look on his face he not only didn’t expect it but had instantly grown to love it. Charles had completely forgone the flowers in his grasp, only remembering them after your eyes had darted down towards his palms.
“Oh-“ His mind finally catches up with the present situation, raising his hand to present you with the flowers. They’re colors are soft, delicate, as if etched by crayon. You can’t help but smile at the gesture, even if it was entirely a false pretense in front of his mother. You can’t see her face, but you know she’s smiling, seeing her son present to his wife in such a sweet manner. Now, your gaze isn’t fixed against the flowers in your grasp, but the dress from your suitcase.
“Something tells me that won’t fit you, Charles.” You tease the garment laying over his forearm, only to cause a smile to appear on his lips again.
“I want to take you out for the afternoon. If that’s okay with you.” His voice is low now, hoping to avoid any prying of the conversation from his mother, though her attention was now turned to locating the hair dryer, still needing to complete your own treatment. “Would that be…okay?” He’s nervous. Fearful that after everything, you could now reject him and feel no remorse.
You’re not a cruel person, it has never been in your nature. Instead, you match his own smile, nodding as you take the garment from his grasp, Charles’ eyes widening in confirmation.
“Trust you to pick out my favorite dress, too.” You mumbled.
You loved the sound of the ocean.
You loved everything about the sea, truly. The reflections from the moonlight caused shards to reflect over Charles’ boat; the new yacht had barely had time to stretch the waters, though it seemed to float as if it had been nurtured its entire existence.
The afternoon of a late lunch had expanded into expensive, late-night wine on the boat as your husband had guided you into deeper waters. He knew what he was doing, after all; the waters of Monaco were a comfort to him, a lifetime had stretched out from jumping into the ocean as a child to yacht parties during the Grand Prix.
You’d seemed entirely at home, and it made his heart warm. Charles wasn’t a stupid man; he saw how you kept yourself small, your setup at the house barely spanning over two rooms. He’d wanted nothing more than to break the walls you had put up for oh-so-long and entwine your lives together.
Then he would reprimand himself, remind himself he was the sole reason those walls existed.
Conversation had spanned naturally into the events of the day; you thanked him for thinking of you, he’d responded with a mention of you deserving that form of treatment every single day. Your mind can’t take the anticipation; when your lips lift from the glass of wine, you can’t help but ask what his lawyer had recommended about his mistress. Your husband’s grin had fallen a little, running a hand through his dark curls.
“It’s a difficult one.” He explains. “There’s enough there for a case, considering we haven’t had contact in a while. But…” He doesn’t need to finish his sentence; you do for him.
“The photographs are counted as evidence.” You finish, and he can only nod. He’s created such a mess, something he could never forgive himself for doing so. A web of lies and mistreatment surrounded you both; he so wanted to break each thread and simply cradle you, be in a bubble for the rest of eternity.
He’s expecting you to stay silent, then. Maybe that’s where the evening should have ended, with silence upon the realization that this case will not be easily solved. Instead, you place the glass of wine down on the ledge of the stairs, easing his own glass from his grasp. Charles is confused, even more so when you walk back towards him, wrapping your arms to close around his neck.
“What are you doing?” He whispers. His hands raise hesitantly, as if touching you would break you into a million pieces. His grasp only falls to your waist when you press closer towards the man, resting your gaze on his own eyes. He’s hurt you, broken you to such an extent, and yet you can’t help but draw closer to his touch, to his eyes.
“Being your wife.” You respond, before pressing your lips to his own. This is the first time, the first time in so long that you had been the one to initiate a kiss. Naturally, Charles’ hands wrap tighter around your waist, pulling you into his chest, deepening your touch, your kiss. This. This is the moment he wishes to bottle forever, to live in the comfort of his wife’s touch, no outside means, no other commitments being hung over his head.
You’re not sure how long you both stand there, wrapped in one another, hands fleeting over each other, desperate to find some touch, some form of skin. It isn’t until your fingers reach to unbutton the top of his powder-blue shirt, that his own come to rest atop of yours. He knows he’s made a mistake when he sees the look you shoot him, immediately assuming the worst.
“No, no.” He promises, both hands flying from where they had grasped yours, cradling each side of your face. It feels…warm. It feels so similar to the way Carlos had cradled your head once, when you were both on a boat, much like this. You think of those dark eyes, the whispers drawn into your ear as he had sharply thrusted into you that evening. Then, you think of the blonde appearing outside his apartment mere hours after you had been tangled in his arms.
“I want to.” Charles’ words draw you from your endless train of thoughts. “Sweetheart, I want to more than anything, but I need you to know how much it means-“
You don’t let him finish; instead, you press your mouths back together, forcefully. There are whispers from your own lips, pleading that he take you, that you want nothing more than to feel your bodies atop of one another.
And who is he to deny his wife?
You’re not sure when he scoops you up into his arms, guides you inside of the boat and to the soft bed that had been freshly made mere hours ago, but he never lets your lips leave one another for less than a moment.
He’s everywhere; he’s pressing into you in the most delicious way, he’s drawing your body of the most intense sounds, and then you’re coming, harder than you ever thought was possible, it hits you in the most delicious way.
Your fingernails pressed crescents into his skin as he continued to push into you with that perfect rhythm. Feeling your hot breath dance against the shell of his neck, the sweet whimpers of your overstimulated orgasm falling from your lips. Charles feels you clench around him, dragging you into him deeper, and it's all over.
His head immediately falls into the joint of your neck and shoulder, his pants getting heavier, thrusts rougher as he chases his own release. Teeth escape from his lips, biting down atop of the red marks he'd left earlier in a passion; the gasp you let-out, the roll of your hips against his own pushes him over the edge, a moan falling out from his own lips, hands flying to grip at your forearms pinned above him. You can feel every inch of him buried inside of you, warmth spilling into you.
Heavy hips press into yours, your thighs still pressed around his waist when he lifts his head from the warmth of your skin, pressing one final deep kiss to your lips, a profanity of words escaping from his mouth.
He kisses you again. And again. He keeps doing it whilst slowly rocking his hips, still jittering from his own orgasm. Senses come through, those eyes you had been entranced in so many times fixing to your own, drinking you in, looking so beautiful underneath his own frame.
"You still want somebody else?" The teasing is natural, almost, inflicting you to roll your eyes and playfully push his arm. God, your laugh is the most adoring sound in the world to him, it had been so long since he'd heard it, even then, it had never been due to his own actions until recently. The adorned look in his eye is soon replace with confusion when he feels you wiggle underneath him, soft blankets rubbing against your back.
"Are you going somewhere?" He questions, one hand coming up to trace against your jawline. You want to lean into his touch, it's something you'd been attracted to recently, though the mess between your legs and sweat trailing down your skin seemed to tell you something different.
"I need to clean up." You whine, pressing your body into the plush mattress. "I'm all gooey, Charles."
"I've got it." He murmurs, pressing one soft kiss to your cheek, another to your neck. You expect the weight from above to release you, but the warmth radiating from his body remains. You feel lips trace against your chest, his untamed curls tickle your stomach as he traces down a direct line.
"What are you doi-" You never get to finish you question, the fourth word cut off with a soft gasp, those lips which had pressed to yours, now pressing down against your clit, a soft praise towards your body whilst his tongue traced around the sensitive bud, drawing a slice through your wet lips, pressing deeper and deeper into your entrance.
The room is illuminated with your whines, hips bucking against his stubble as he fulfills his promise of cleaning you up.
You loved the feeling of being held.
You’d been unfathomably happy to walk into the paddock that evening, fingers interlaced with Charles’ as he guided the two of you through the fans and photographers alike, buzzing to be starting on Pole Position when his wife would be watching in awe of his achievement.
You hadn’t been there on qualifying day; you were still trying to keep your distance where you could, to prove to your husband he couldn’t instantly win you back overnight. It had only been when he’d come into the en-suite of your room the evening before, hands wrapped around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, pleading you came to watch him race the following night.
“I’ll win.” He promises, voice quiet as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “I’ll win it for you.”
His sweet words had not only lured you to the race track the following day but had also drawn you to sleep in his bed that evening, curled up into his toned chest as he murmured words of appreciation in French; only a few you were able to pick up and understand the meaning of as you drifted into a comfortable sleep, arms cradling your body underneath the bed sheets.
There was a collective, loving aura that evening when the two of you had stepped into his garage, the team in awe of seeing that their Prince of Monaco and his beloved Princess had been reunited, here to support one another. However, one figure remained quiet, eyes transfixed on your every movement. He felt his knuckles turn white when Charles had changed into his race suit, placing his cap atop of your own head and had lovingly pressed two kisses to either of your cheeks.
Carlos Sainz was a jealous man; he’d been infuriated when his blonde fling had appeared on his doorstep, instantly realizing the kind of man he must have been made out to be when you’d seen her appear on your departure. He’d hoped and prayed you hadn’t seen her, but from the radio silence he received over messages and calls, to the way you had purposely avoided speaking to him when arriving in the paddock, he could tell you were not that naive.
Emotions had played a heavy part on both of the Ferrari Pilots during the start of the race. One, determined to keep his promise and win whilst his wife was present. The other was so clouded with sadness and rage that all he wanted to do was push his counterpart off the track. The lights snapped off, 20 engines revving in unison as the cars blitzed down the first straight.
It doesn’t take long for emotion to overcome; Charles’ P6 soon creeps towards a P3, whilst Carlos begins to drop. A violent turn into Oscar Piastri not only takes the young rookie out of the race, but the Ferrari driver, too. Nobody misses the swears as he switches the engine off, nor the scowl on his face as he removes the steering wheel, ready to be escorted back to the garage.
When the blur of red comes through the paddock, you can’t help but feel guilty, telling yourself that if you had spoken to him, he would have been able to keep a cool head. Silently, you slip the headphones from your temple, murmuring about going to the bathroom before taking a direct beeline towards Carlos’ room, catching the door just before it’s due to slam closed.
He was seething. Pure rage flicked across his eyes; the warm smile reserved for you replaced with a harsh scowl. This may have been a mistake.
“What do you want?” His words are venom, spit towards you. He cannot stand to see you right now.
“I just-“You pause, clearing your throat. “I wanted to check if you were okay.” It’s a pathetic answer, really. One that didn’t sit right in your mouth, even after you had spoken.
“I’m alright?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “You ignore my calls, go away and fuck that pathetic man and then come back to me?” He’s pissed, undoubtedly so. “You whore. I understand it all now.” He shakes his head, missing the fire which had begun to burn in your own stomach.
“You have no right!” You’d shrieked so loudly you’d startled yourself; one finger was still pointed into his infuriated face, your finger mere millimeters from the bridge of his nose. Hot air engulfed both of your bodies, the only sound present was the deep and heavy breathing flaring from your nostrils.
Without a thought, Carlos had slapped your finger away from his face, lunging forward dramatically to seize your face into his rough palms. His lips are on yours, roughly seeking the wet trace of your tongue. You can’t fight him; not when his lips feel so flawless against your own. A rough palm encases the back of your neck, the other wrapping around your waist as he holds your frame tighter against his own.
Your breath barely had a moment to catch when he forcefully pulled his lips from you, emitting a white from your breath. That innocent sound is soon replaced by a sharp gasp, his fingers tightening against your scalp, pulling on your locks.
“Don’t fucking whine.” He spits, ghosting his lips over your own, never letting them touch yours. Warm breath tickles the shell of your ear when his grip pulls tighter onto your hair, tiling your ear to meet his mouth. “I’m sick of your whining, about your horrible excuse for a husband. I will treat you how you should be treated.”
There’s no time to react as his pink tongue pokes from his lips, a stripe tracing from the corner of your ear, across the sweetest spot of your neck. You’re reveling in the wetness, the sinful way his words litter through the air before teeth sink into your skin. He doesn’t bother to cover your mouth, mute the sweet sounds falling from your lips. There’s no decency anymore, Carlos doesn’t care who sees the marks he engraves into your skin. The ring on your left hand means nothing more than a reminder that he could be better.
“Carlos-“ You struggle to connect the two syllables together, hands gripping through his hair, pulling at the brown locks in your fingers. “Fuck-“
“What did I just say?” He grunts from the valley of your neck, one hand sliding from your waist and flying out, smacking on your clothed butt. The shock simply causes you to gasp out loud, pushing your own throbbing crotch into his hard one. A smirk forms against your neck, clear as day when the man pulls himself from your neck. His lips are wet, saliva from his own mouth tracing around your lips.
One hand finds your face again, grasping at your chin tilting your head backwards to hover below his own. A single finger taps at your lips, signaling for you to open wide for him. He’s sinful as he lets his spit fall across your lips, eyebrows raised as he wraps a hand around your throat, clearly overpowering your stance in this moment.
“Swallow.” He commands, hand resting on your cheek firmly. The tone of his voice sends a shock of energy down your chest and between your legs, cunt throbbing at his words. Of course, you comply, swallowing the remanence he had given you. “Good girl.”
The sweet nicknames in this moment have evaporated; Carlos is nothing short of animalistic, his presence all too understanding as one hand takes its place around your neck, the other grabbing firmly onto your wrist as he guides you backwards, softly falling onto the sofa of his driver’s room. The pitying looks the man gives you sends a thousand messages through your brain.
“No, no. Dirty little girls don’t get to sit on my sofa.” He teases, both hands clasping your waist, sliding you off the plush furnishings and resting on the cold floor, kneeling for the Spaniard. “You need to be on your knees, you need to be taught how to behave.”
Eyes widen as his tanned fingers pull at the knotted arms of the fireproofs resting on his waist. Even through his underclothes, the shape of his hard length is clearly visible, even more so as he removes his underlayers and briefs, letting himself spring freely, one hand rubbing his shaft a few times, the other knotting in the back of your hair.
He loves this; cock in his hand as he taps the tip against each of your cheeks, trailing himself against the parting of your lips, having to hide the shiver from his own body when the wetness of your mouth. His eyes are sparkling when he uses his firm cock to press through your mouth, relishing in the warmth of your lips wrapping around his length.
“That’s it, be a good girl. Take it.” He coos as you struggle to take more of his length, attempting to give small, tentative licks to his cock whilst he slides between your lips. It sends him feral, wild. He thinks of nothing else as both hands grip tightly in your hair, shoving your face into his crotch, your gags music to his ears as he continues to take control of the situation.
When your eyes adjust, look up from his groin, he almost feels sorry for you. They’re wide, glassy, snuffles falling from your lips as he continues his forceful attack. One hand slowly removes itself from the strain on your locks, tracing over your cheek, thumb rubbing underneath your eye, removing the salty tears as your breath remains heavy through your nose.
“Oh, poor baby.” He teases, pace never relenting. “This is what you need, someone to put you in your place, remind you what you deserve for teasing me, making me jealous.” He can’t help but chuckle at the pathetic sound coming from your lips. He can feel his stomach tightening, the warmth drawing an imminent release from his cock. This isn’t how he wants to finish, he can’t yet.
Your mouth feels empty when he pulls out, giving you no warning, the gasps falling from your lips at the sudden gain of air. He doesn’t give you time to respond, a heavy hand pushing your front to the floor, lifting your hips, ass straight back in the air. No warning, the skirt of your dress is lifted, the wetness of your cunt seeping through your panties. The anticipation kills you, until a warm finger slides into your folds with no warning. Your body can’t help but react, clenching around the warmness without even realizing. You also don’t realize the sounds you’re making, until the finger removes itself, a palm harshly smacking on your behind.
“What did I say about noises?” He grunts, leaning around to push the wet finger into your own mouth. “Do you like it? Taste what I do to you?” Hurriedly, he presses his finger in and out of your lips a few times before returning it to your wet hole, wiggling in the air. This time there’s two; stretching you out, your palms trying to find anything to grip, to hold on to as he carelessly thrusted, tickling a sweet, sweet spot deep in your stomach.
“I- Carlos I can’t-“ You whine through raspy breaths. He can feel you clenching, swelling around his fingers, and is rewarded when he hastily pulls them out of you, a long moan and a squirt of arousal pushing from your cunt. A sheer shock of arousal floods between his own legs, rubbing his fingers against your wet folds, letting your wetness trail onto the tips of his hand.
“Oh, your husband can’t make you do that, can he?” He’s proud; proud he’s able to draw such a reaction from your body. “Come on, baby, up we get.” His arms are suddenly firm, present around your waist as he pulls you to stand on two shaky legs, still reveling in the feeling he had granted you moments ago.
Hands retract from your waist and come to hold your face, pressing kisses to your scarlet lips as he guides you from a standing position towards his couch, finally allowing himself to sink into the cushions. You want nothing more than to join him, feel his warmth and aura around your own body, but by the finger he’s raised as he situates himself into the sofa, you can tell you’ll have to wait.
The moment he sits down, a tanned hand comes to his crotch to rub his length a few times, your eyes widening as you plead for it; mind clouded by lust, all you want is for something warm to fill you up, make you feel as good as he had done so many times before. Carlos’ finger beckons for you to join him, and you know what he’s insinuating.
Your movements are commanded by the Spaniard; immediately, there are two firm hands on your body, pulling you into his touch and sinking you down onto his cock. You don’t miss the way his lips quirk into a grin, oh-so-happy to see your reaction to the pleasure he had granted you. It’s no match for when he starts moving, bouncing you up and down on his lap, fallen gasps from your lips as your faces draw closer and closer.
You were sinking into one another’s skin; he wanted nothing more than to entwine your bodies for eternity. One hand was firm around your waist, guiding your movement with the strength only he could. The other guided a gentle trace across your face, pulling you closer, closer to his own face as his thrusts got faster, erratic.
“You’re mine.” He grunts, never once breaking eye contact as his hips grew tighter, his cock making your cunt squeeze in a way you didn’t know was physically possible. “You’ve always been mine, tell me you’re mine.”
His eyes go soft, thrusts pausing for a second as he notes the tears pooling in your eyes from the sheer euphoria running through your body. A whine falls from your lips as you feel his strong hand tug at your neck, pressing your foreheads towards one another, hips slowing for just a moment, letting your breath catch up to your aching body.
“I’m yours.” You’d whisper, mind clouded. You were his. There could be a thousand cars, an ocean or a wedding band between the two of you and you would still always find your way back to Carlos. Whatever that relationship would form, you would always be a part of him.
The murmured confirmation was enough to send a shot of energy through his spine, his thrusting becoming deeper, passionate. It barely takes five thrusts before he’s groaning, throwing his head back and letting out a low moan as he spills himself into you. The warmth is enough to send your cunt into flutters, clenching so tightly as your body falls into his chest, whining as you feel a gush of wetness drip onto his crotch.
Undoubtedly, Carlos Sainz is now a part of you. Time seems to flicker between seconds and minutes, at some point you’ve shifted your weight, turning around to fix your eyes onto the television screen of his room, eyes wide as you watch your husband continue to battle out on the track. It felt almost sinful; watching Charles battle for his podium whilst his teammate stayed buried inside of you.
His touch goes soft; one hand remains tight around your waist, though your back is warmed by the way you’re pulled back into his skin. Feather-Light kisses dance across your shoulder, he’s never been this soft, cradling you as if the world would be held together by your content. If the universe was to implode, he would be happy with the fact you were pressed into him in that very moment.
The laps of the race begin to dwindle; a promising second-place is looking pretty much secured for Charles. You’re certain that your silver trophy will be sitting proudly in the hotel room later that evening, until Max Verstappen suddenly begins to slow down, commentators beginning to roar as an unexpected engine issue splutters into the RB19.
“Holy shit.” Carlos murmurs, sitting up from his relaxed position, both arms now tightly around your waist as he shifts the balance of your bodies. “What happened to Max?” His voice becomes a murmur, your attention drifts, focused on the cars beginning to pick up their speed against the current world champion.
Goosebumps litter your skin, you immediately pull away from the warmth of Carlos, eyes wide as you see the scarlet red car glide into view. He’s going to overtake Max. Not only that, but your husband is about to win the entire race.
An audible groan comes from both of you when you slip yourself off his length, searching around for the panties which had been discarded oh-so-long ago; the man rests a hand on your shoulder, one hand tracing across your jawline as the other reaches down, gently smoothing the skirt of your long dress.
“We’ll find them later. We need to go and congratulate your husband, after all.” You can’t miss the cockiness in his voice, still content with the fact his cum is buried deep inside your pussy, panties are left in his driver’s room as a sheer prize for being able to make you feel euphoric. A tinted blush decorates your cheeks as he slips into his old jeans and a Ferrari polo shirt, one hand resting on the small of your back as he guides you out of his driver’s room, never once bothering to fix his hair when you had been the one to grab onto it so tightly.
People wouldn’t think that of him, after all.
You love to be loved.
Your eyes are brimming with tears as you reach Parc Fermé, Carlos finally catching up with you, standing right behind you at the barrier, eyes transfixed onto his teammate, standing atop of his livery, cheering towards the endless roars of the crowd, passing a congratulatory message towards his fellow drivers, Lewis patting his back, Lando cheering on his behalf.
He’s already removed his helmet when he sprints towards his team; the losses don’t matter, not when he can celebrate the win he had been craving for so, so long. There are praises passed, pats on the back as he works his way down the winding line of his team, red in their clothes and their cheeks, it means the world to everybody.
And then, Charles is facing you, his wife. He’s so transfixed upon your gaze, the sheer elation you have for his victory that he doesn’t stop to think when he takes two of his hands on either side of your face, cradling your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours, grinning into such a sweet kiss that you can’t help but kiss him back.
“I told you.” He whispers when he pulls away from you, resting a gentle hand on your cheek for just a moment. His eyes finally turned to where his teammate was standing. Both of them have to forge a smile as they reach out to clasp hands, a firm grip in celebration of scoring points for their team.
You don’t see him again, not until he’s left the cool-down room and is bounding towards the podium. Carlos, having not been called to his post-race interview yet, still stood behind you, though one hand had snaked its way around your waist, as if it had to be there. Nobody notices, of course. The team is too focused upon their driver lifting his golden trophy, in awe of the achievement they had built for seemingly the entire season.
Charles doesn’t miss it, of course. Maybe that’s why his gaze is so fixed on you when he releases a splash of champagne, purposely aiming his bottle towards the man behind you, his heart only crushing further when he sees the Spaniard pull your frame behind his own in protection.
And then, it’s all over. Both Carlos and Charles are rushed away to complete their post-race interviews. You’re left alone, simply taking a slow walk towards the Ferrari Hospitality. Even as you pace through the crowds, you can’t help but feel…sick. Dizzy. Out-of-body.
You cared for your husband greatly, and somewhere during it all, you believed his apology was genuine, that he truly wanted to fix the previous mistakes of the year. But how long would his tether last until his mistress came trailing back, regardless of a court ruling?
And Carlos. The sweet man who had proved to you time and time again, you were worth more than a simple name on a piece of paper. He’d been your soul, you truly were set to drop an entire marriage to live in his arms until his blonde counterpart came along, a knife to the chest after one of the most intimate nights you could fathom.
Your breathing gets faster, the world begins to turn on an axis. From somewhere, you hear a voice asking if you’re okay, if you need help getting back to the hospitality. And then, the world goes black, your body slumps to the floor of the paddock, with only one sentence drifting through your unconscious mind.
Who do you love?
This is everyone who asked to be tagged! @Mac-daddy-210 @aundercover @barnestatic @omgsuperstarg @chimchimjiminie16 @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @magicalcowboyarbiter @gaslasysblog @junetto @beatrizmel-472 @motorsp0rt @crowdthena @screemqueen @lewislvr @styles-sunflower @itspaddockprincess @adeptustemptations @amalialeclerc @meetmyblondemuffins @formulanando @lorarri @christianpulisic10 @gaypoetsblog @thisbitxhs-blog @goldsainz @ru-kru @magical-spit @hrlzy @nooshytushie @gaslysainz @marvel-at-stucky @sugarvibez @adeptustemptations @roseseraj @leclercdream @pjofics @hecatesfavoritechild @poseforme @thisbitxhs-blog @adalynneva @meganlikes2purr @sabrinaselina55 @laneyspaulding19 @heavenlyiecreature @pink-teddy-bear @nooshytushie @strawberries-and-racing @milasexutoire @ohthemisssery @florkt @obsessedwiththeideaofyou @ru-kru @myhomeworksnotdone @ineedafictionalman @bregarc @allywthsr @summerslike11 @wildcupcake @willowpains @marlenamallowan @leclercloml @katzenwahnsinn @be-your-coffee-pot
#juliana's fic rec#my fanfic commentary#my fave fanfic#cl16 fic#cs55 fic#f1 fic#JESUS H ROOSEVELT CHRIST
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Kpop title track ranking: BEAST & Highlight
In this series I’ll be ranking kpop groups/soloists title tracks based on my taste.
BEAST has been one of those groups that I’ve listened to a substantial number of b-sides from. And their title tracks are equally good. I decided to add Highlight songs as separate list as I can’t quite talk about them as separate things but I do tend to think of them as separately musically.
BEAST:
Fiction - Oh Fiction. It’s gorgeous. It’s timeless. It’s a masterpiece. Even though I’ve known this song for years I feel like it just gets better as years go by. It just pulls the right heartstrings without being too emotional unless it happens to fit the situation and then all the floodgates are opened.
Good Luck - Oh my Good Luck. I actually answered some school mandatory music class questionnaire that Good Luck is my favorite song xD Question that I do not have a definite answer even today and I just had discovered this and was looping it all day long, so the answer makes sense. And honestly, it’s amazing, so I’m quite happy with that answer. But even though I still really love it I have to give the crown to Fiction.
Shadow - Shadow is so dark, moody and even a little haunting. And those things do tend pull me to them, so it’s not too surprising that I absolutely love it!
Breath - Breath is just so good. Again, quite dark and extremely catchy, two things I cannot resist. xD
Beautiful Night - I remember hearing Beautiful Night even before I was truly a kpop fan and I don’t think I had much of a reaction to it then. But after becoming a kpop fan I absolutely loved it! It just gives me so much nostalgia every time I hear it. And it’s still a banger!
12:30 - It’s so pretty! And I actually have this album, so it gets a little extra boost from that as well, despite still ending up in the middle of the pack. That just tells how good these songs are.
Shock - Shock is just so much fun! xD
Bad Girl - I have to admit that I did ignore the greatness that is Bad Girl for quite a long time. But as it quite often seems to go, I have realized my mistake and really like this now. It’s a fun throwback sound! And again what a way to debut!
YeY - The BEAST wildin’ era. Can’t say I don’t like it though xD
Ribbon - It’s pretty. There just are quite a few slower songs that I would choose to listen to instead of Ribbon.
Beautiful - Beautiful has never just reached the same heights with me as the rest of their songs. It’s fine but everything else is clearly better.
Highlight:
Alone - I didn’t love this immediately but then my head did the thing aka Alone just randomly started playing in my head and sounding like the best song ever. Listening to the song after that makes me always love or at least the song and it definitely happened Alone here (Oh yes, my head does this a lot xD)
Daydream - Exactly the same thing happened with this than with Alone xD Choosing between these two seems to also depend on my mood, as originally I was thinking Daydream would be number 1 but today I’m feeling Alone more. They are both great though!
Plz Don’t Be Sad - What a re-debut! It is so fun!
Can Be Better - Can Be Better is also so much fun and the lyrics are just very nice and uplifting.
Not The End - This was such a lovely way to come back after an actually long break.
Loved - Loved has this nostalgic sound to it and the missing that the lyrics are about really comes across because of the sound. It’s just lovely.
Calling You - Calling You just doesn’t really resonate with me at all. Definitely the weakest title track even when taking BEAST songs to account.
Lastly, shout outs to couple of their amazing b-sides: Black Paradise (Iris II OST) - Dark and haunting, the best kind. Sad Movie (Korean version) - Oh I love this so so much! In Rainy Days - Such a gorgeous song! Lightless - La-la-la-la-lightless! Back To You - So so catchy and great! Celebrate - The Highlight party anthem! I Don’t Miss You - Moody goodness.
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Sorry I haven’t posted anything recently! T T
All of my works are currently underway, but will take a bit of work to complete, especially since I don’t spend all my time writing them and I work on them interchangeably. I hope that’s still okay! TvT
I’ll update my WIP section on my pined post!
Here’s some brain rot while you all are waiting for me tho
.•*. _____________________.*•.
Words ~ unknown, maybe 300?
.•*. _____________________.*•.
•*~, Now playing ~ Mahal Na Mahal ,~*•
(Fluff, with a pinch of angst at the end)
So we all know Korekiyo is very very passionate about anthropology, so he must be proficient is a bunch of languages so he can learn more about their local traditions from ancient texts and such, right? And he must travel a looooot because the best way to learn about places is to travel, right? And if he was in a relationship with you, guess who he would bring? ;)
So imagine this.
You and Korekiyo traveled to the Philippines so he could learn more about their native culture and ancient traditions. But on one late night, he invites you to a local restaurant and leads you to a secluded spot. And you know what this guy does? This romantic mf…
“My darling rose… I imagine you must know I haven’t asked for your presence at this small restaurant just to be spontaneous. I have a special surprise planned for a goddess such as yourself~”
He then reaches from under the table and pulls out a…. Mic? Huh? What does he plan on doing, you wonder. Suddenly, you hear music playing from a speaker next to you, but not loud enough to startle you. (He is very attentive like that~ ;))
And, to further your feelings of surprise, he gently pulled down his mask, revealing his more of his porcelain skin. (I HC that when he gets in a relationship with you, he finally realizes his “relationship” with his sister was unhealthy and cut spiritual ties with her, so he doesn’t put on rep lip stick anymore.)
And then, if you weren’t surprised enough already, he begins to serinade you while singing in Tagalog, which thoroughly shocked you. You knew he knew Japanese (of course), Chinese (modern), English, German, and even Arabic. So, did he learn a whole new langue just to sing this one to you? And let me tell you, he is singing very very well, and very fluently, too. His soft, heartfelt voice pulled at your heartstrings, causing a blush to form over your cheeks and tears to pool at the corners of your eyes.
As he finishes his song, the tears that had been building up began pouring out.
“Korekiyo…. That was… that was absolutely beautiful. I never knew you could sing so well.”
“It was all for you, so it has to be perfect.”
This seemingly innocent and sweet remark would have sounded normal from anyone else, but from your boyfriend, it some what reminded you of the standards he used to put on himself for his sister.
“Love, even if it wasn’t, I would still love it the same as if it was perfect. All because you are the one singing it. That’s what truly matters to me.”
“…. Really?”
“Yes, of course.”
You got up from your seat and pulled his shocked body close to yours. Before you knew it, both of you were crying.
#danganronpa#danganronpa x y/n#danganronpa v3#korekiyo x reader#korekiyo shinguuji x reader#Korekiyo#korekiyo shinguji#drv3 korekiyo#danganronpa korekiyo#;v;#sorry for the wait#danganronpa fluff#Danganronpa angst#love song#romance#brainrot
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Okay I spent a good while going though my organized folders of fics and picked out a few for this. Most are Empires, but there’s a few Hermitcraft and a few life series in here too
Empires SMP:
What We Left Behind | Moonlight22oa - Empires 2, Pix hears of the ruins of a lost city in the mesa and sets out to find them. One of the most fascinating uses of word choice I’ve ever seen, this fic lives in my head rent free
Kings of Old and New | Ophelia_of_the_Woods - Empires 1 and 2, the story of Pix, and Joel, and the passage of time. Might be one of the only first person POV fics that’s truly struck me— even if you don’t normally care for first person POV, please give this one a chance. It’s worth it.
a kind of playing heartstrings | Bee_4 - Empires 1, Scott is invited to a music festival in the Codlands by Jimmy, it’s not quite what he expected (yes this is OP’s fic but I think about it all the time)
To Earn His Respect | talon_wings - Empires 1, Gem brings fWhip to Mythland, to see that Sausage is alive once more after being freed from the corruption. The reunion is… volatile. Phenomenal fWhip characterization here, and there are a few lines that are absolutely crushing.
A Matter of Dust | hallmarked_error - Empires 1, a sort of coming of age story; fWhip grapples with who he is and who he’s meant to be. This fic is one of the most heart wrenchingly accurate depictions of e1 fWhip I’ve ever read, and I know it’s been rec’d once already on this post, but I cannot overstate how good this fic is. Absolutely with a second vouch.
One tries to fly away (and the other watches) | FulminateTheSun - Empires 1, in a Grimlands where magic is outlawed, Gem finds herself more and more drawn away from her home. She leaves, and eventually, when fWhip becomes the lone Count, the ban on magic is lifted. Years later, the siblings meet again. This fic is hard to capture in a short summary. It’s… crushingly sad, in so many ways, and so so compelling. Phenomenal characterization.
The Caesar House | Writer207 - Empires 1 AU, a teen Sausage finds himself an orphan, moving into a quaint house in the woods with other teens in a similar situation. As he stays, he learns of one of the house members who went missing, and struggles to piece together their disappearance in time to save everyone else. If you’re looking for a long read, this is it— 142k words, and the whole thing is absolutely astounding. There are scenes in this fic that live in my brain rent free.
it’s only blood; i have plenty left | artanogon - Empires 1, Jimmy finds fWhip in the wreckage of the Grimlands explosion. The carnage was less sparing to them both. Short but powerful, and with some fun tidbits of world building snuck in.
Storied Past | ImperialKatwala - Empires 2, Hermes finds a secret library in Stratos, and Joel tells him a few stories from the books within. This fic is what kickstarted my immortal Joel brainrot and I have never recovered.
Traffic/Life series:
there's a room where the light won't find you | Cosmic_Retribution - Last Life, Grian brings Scar his things after Scar’s death at the Southlands. Grian remembers, Scar does not, but perhaps… he could. Amazing characterization and voice, and the dialogue is absolutely incredible.
Torchlight | skelew - Third Life AU, Martyn and his group of adventurers take up a request to look into some monsters around the ruins of a city once called Dogwarts. Getting in to the city is easy, getting out is… a bit more challenging. This is the first fic of a phenomenal AU that’s still being regularly worked on. The premise is super intriguing, and the descriptive writing here is some of the best.
life or death life series zombie apocalypse au | birrdie - Life series AU, this is a set of two fics that follow different plot threads that tell the past, present, and future of its characters. The first follows Scar and Grian, and the second follows Etho and Bdubs. The way the two fics slot into place with each other is absolutely brilliant, and the reveals throughout each fic are some of the best out there.
Hermitcraft:
as sure as any knife | Cosmic_Retribution - Season 7, the raid on the mycelium resistance base is something that can be so visceral, and so charged with past relationships. The descriptive imagery in this one takes me out, and the characterization is incredibly well done.
Do You Think It'll Hurt? | CrappyRavioli - Season 8, Scar’s introspection on the end of the world, and the denial— and knowledge, of their inevitable fate. This fic has some of the single most devastating passages I’ve ever read, I think about it often.
Misc:
Coming Home To You | GoldenPaca - a set of 9 phenomenal fics in an end of the world apocalyptic AU, though not of the zombie variety. Most fics are based around Hermit characters, though there are others, and there’s one absolutely crushing empires based fic in this collection. At a little over 100k for the whole series, it’s absolutely worth the read.
The Highwayman | EnvelopedByOblivion - Sheriff Jimmy, last of his town, is taken by the bandits that raided and killed his entire town. Just as his inevitable death looms over him, he’s saved by a lone bandit. Eventually, Jimmy finds a new home, and eventually, he sees an old face. This fic is hard to place in any one category, which is why I’m putting it here. It’s an AU of it’s own, one of the best characterizations of ranchers as a pair that I’ve found. At just over 70k, it’s a worthwhile long read.
(I have many many more fics saved! If anyone wants something specific, I’d be happy to check my bookmarks and see what I’ve got!!)
oh great Minecraft Bee, do you have any fic recs in the realm of hermitcraft, empires, and/or the life series?
(sorry if you answered this recently or don’t want it asked, searching on mobile is difficult)
other than “the sky weighs heavy tonight” by mawofthemagnetar, not really many recently! this isn’t because there aren’t a lot of good fics, this is because I am so bad at reading in my writing fandom and am so bad at remembering fics to actually rec them. like I KNOW I’ve read other fics lately I’d love if I could rec. I just have no idea what they are.
so! here’s where I say: my followers! use this post to fic rec! I could use a rec list too, honestly! and I’ll reblog any lists you give me here! help me and anon out!
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chapter 46
Fake Making-It
Social Media AU
previous chapter
it’s not proofread, sorry. as requested, sobbe fluff
~^~
Sander curls his arm around Robbe’s shoulders and Robbe instantly leans into him, pressing a line of warmth along his side as they fall into step with each other. Robbe hasn’t stopped smiling since Sander picked him up a few hours ago. His grin had grown over the time they’d spent together, and Sander had marveled at it, at all the joy he’d created in this beautiful boy. It’s the soft, small slope of Robbe’s smile, however, that tugs at Sander’s heartstrings now. Robbe doesn’t look ecstatic or excited anymore—he just looks content. Happy. Walking down the dim street by Sander’s side, Robbe looks happy.
It’s a truly brilliant thing.
Sander gazes back at him, taking in all the little details he can, capturing the moment now in hopes of being able to recreate it later. “Only one screen,” he mumbles. “I wish I could’ve given you the whole theater.”
“Only one screen playing my film. Okay, it’s no actual film, but a medley of my filming. How did you even do that?”
“You taught me,” Sander reminds him, brushing his lips over Robbe’s ear. He continues in a whisper, “You’re a very good teacher, considering how distracting you also happen to be.”
Robbe flushes and elbows him in the stomach, but he also turns his face into Sander’s neck, so Sander tugs him closer and considers it a win. The whole date has felt like a win. It had been difficult to organise everything, and Sander might have delayed things purposefully until he was sure he could make it work. He’d been a little disappointed he couldn’t do more, but Robbe had seemed to think it was an extravagant date as it was. He’d gone all starry-eyed and smiley, and he’d spent the majority of the time staring at Sander rather than the film screen.
Even now, he lifts his head and watches Sander, and Sander turns his head and captures him in a kiss to hide how much he likes it. The weight of Robbe’s gaze is a treasure, but the press of his lips is better. They stop on the sidewalk, and Robbe leans lazily against a streetlight and pulls Sander against him, never once breaking their kiss. His mouth and his hands are a pleasant source of warmth, melting Sander beneath them.
His skin is buzzing and his heart is singing. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it, and he thinks he likes that idea. The spark that blooms to life in his chest around Robbe—at the mere thought of Robbe—should never dwindle. It seems to only grow with each passing day.
“I don’t want you to go,” Robbe mumbles against his lips, groaning quietly. He curls his hands in Sander’s hair, pouting, and Sander grins and gives him another peck.
“You had that much fun, hm?”
Robbe shakes his head. “Not enough.” His lips quirk the opposite way now, up into a somewhat cheeky smile. “Do you want to maybe come back with me?”
Sander pulls back enough to roam his eyes over Robbe’s face. Robbe still simply seems content, though now there’s something curious and hopeful alongside it. He rubs his nose against Sander’s and Sander swallows thickly, then offers a nod. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Robbe’s smile grows.
Sander nods and kisses him again. “Yeah.”
Robbe kisses him back for a moment, with a little more force, and then he slips away and tugs Sander along by the arm.
He realises, as they’re walking hand-in-hand down the street, that he’s never been to Robbe’s apartment. The night they’d spent at Lucas’s was their only night together, and that had been rather tentative. They’d settled close, watching each other, hands brushing other hands and flitting over cheeks and doing little else. They’d been relieved, and finally able to breathe, and they’d fallen asleep after only being able to smile at each other and trade a lazy kiss or two.
This, going home together in the evening, after a date, to spend more time alone, is different. Sander knows this is different, and he isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do about it.
Robbe appears to share his apprehension by the time they reach the apartment, licking at his lip and tightening his grip on Sander’s hand and looking up at Sander through his lashes. Sander tugs on his hand and Robbe turns towards him easily. Sander cups his cheek and gives him a slow kiss, and Robbe leans into his chest and relaxes, and then he’s leading Sander inside.
Robbe’s apartment is small, more of a studio. It’s nothing like Jens’s fancy place or even Sander’s two-bedroom, but Sander thinks he likes it more. There’s a skateboard inside the door and filming equipment piled in the corner. There’s a two-seater sofa and an old coffee table and some kind of video game set hooked up to the TV (Sander can never tell the difference). Robbe hangs Sander’s leather jacket next to his own brown coat and Sander’s heart thrums.
Robbe leads him towards the kitchen area and scratches at the back of his head. “Do you want something to drink?”
Sander doesn’t answer. Instead he moves towards Robbe, backing him up against the counter with his hands on Robbe’s waist. Robbe makes a small noise of surprise, but wraps his arms around Sander’s shoulders, smiling slowly. They meet in the middle, lips finding each other with ease, eyes drifting shut in sync. Robbe links his hands behind Sander’s neck and pulls him closer, squeezing Sander’s nape impatiently. Sander nips at Robbe’s bottom lip in retaliation.
“Hey,” Robbe whines in protest.
Sander pecks his forehead as an apology and then gathers Robbe in a hug. Robbe hums happily and cuddles into him, and Sander squeezes him tighter, closer, not believing his luck.
“Now that I’m holding you, I never want to let go,” Sander murmurs.
Robbe hums again. “So you are thirsty for something.”
“Hey,” Sander pinches Robbe’s hip in protest. “I’m trying to be romantic.”
“Sorry,” Robbe giggles. He brushes his lips softly over Sander’s collarbone. “Continue.”
Sander purses his lips. “Well, that was kinda it,” he admits.
Robbe giggles again, then kisses his way up along Sander’s jaw. “It’s good,” he whispers. “I don’t want you to let go. I never thought you’d be here in the first place.”
“Ah, but now it’s a dream come true.” Sander wiggles his brows. “And we have time to make up for.”
“Well.” Robbe tilts his head back and raises his brows, turning expectant. “We have all night to start with. How does that sound?”
Sander leans down towards him, pressing their foreheads together. “Music to my ears,” he murmurs.
Robbe snorts. “I’ll have to warn Jens I’m coming for all his fame.”
“Shhh.” Sander kisses him quiet. “Who’s Jens? I don’t know any Jens. There’s no Jens here.”
Robbe’s giggle falters as Sander latches onto the back of his thighs and hoists him up. Robbe’s eyes widen, but he’s grinning as he looks at Sander. “Shit,” he breathes. “You get hotter every time.”
Sander snorts, and kisses his nose. “Someone mentioned something about being thirsty?”
“Hall,” Robbe orders. “Door on the right.”
Sander smiles and whisks him away.
~^~
tag list: @allthewayornowayy @wedarkacademia @lockerfivethreefive @yellowballoon @gucciboner @nora-keinwitz @moonskam @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @akucecilia @hischbabe @evaksobbe @alittleemo @boring-side-effect @franboos @debussyatmidnight @skam-wtfock-sobbe @imratking
next chapter
#wtfock#skam nl#sobbe#robbe x sander#van der stoffels#vds#fake making-it#this is the shortest and shittiest chapter#and it took me three days...#i am sorry
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An Analysis of How Deltarune Chapter 2′s Soundtrack Made Me Feel, Copied From My Discord Thread
Girl Next Door - a very good track for the beginning of the game. It serves to strongly establish noelle as a familiar, friendly character, since you might not have bothered learning too much about her in chapter which makes sense considering the later revealed fact that kris and noelle are chidlhood friendsIt doesn't have any strong hints of bittersweet, it's just a plain happy melody. You're just starting the game after all.
My Castle Town - this is where the first twinges of bittersweet/nostalgia come in.It's meant to bring back memories of your adventure three years ago, chapter 1. You're back "home," at least from the player's point of view, and the player is the one that all the music panders to. (which wouldn't be a thing to note if the game wasn't so meta). It isn't very strongly bittersweet though. It's a calming melody, meant to ease you into the world, and doesn't draw too much attention to itself. If Girl Next Door is a warm breeze, then My Castle Town is the pleasant chill of fall.
Queen - this song is a wacky and fun melody, borrowing both carnival rhythm and instrumentation. It has twinges of deeper emotion and all that but it's mainly just a funny clown theme for everyone's favorite clown: Queen.
A CYBER’S WORLD? - it starts off with the main melody outlined on a chiptune low-res synth, which drops into a rich collage of higher-res synths. It evokes emotions of adventure and energy and anticipation, while also being neutral enough to act as a backdrop for all the silly things you do in the cyber fields. it's a really damn good song. it doesn't tug on the heartstrings necessarily but it just. it's so nice to listen to.
A Simple Diversion - it’s. a simple diversion. chip tune rendition of the queen motif. it's good. nothing much to analyze.
Almost To The Guys , Cyber Battle , When I Get Happy I Dance Like This - (combined since basically the same instrumentation and the same motifs) god I fucking love these songs so much. they are so happy and sensitive and soft and warm. They are like the auditory version of a hug. idk what drugs toby fox put into these songs but it fucking. they fit these funny guys so perfectly. it's just a silly fun theme about these fun little dudes. it's energetic and happy and makes you wanna dance. It doesn't take itself too seriously and it's just. It solidifies that this is a Silly game with Silly things that happen and fun people that you can be friends with.
Cool Beat - too short to analyze.
When I Get Mad I Dance Like This - same as Cool Beat
Berdly’s Theme - bringing back the CLOWNS, this time without a harpsicord though. it's a synthesizer melody and emphasizes the silly gamer antagonism that berdly provides, while not painting him as a bad person. just an antagonist.
Smart Race - this is a particularly tense battle theme, playing off of the semi-betrayal and kind if indignation you feel towards berdly since like. He's a lightner like you! and he's working for queen! what the FRICK.
Faint Courage - an uplifting melody that (tries) to soothe the pain of getting a game over. The crunched nature of the synths is notable though, compared to other soothing songs on the soundtrack.
Welcome To The City - This is the first song that really starts to dip into the nostalgia. It's still an upbeat and adventurous melody, but like. Your friends just left you, and you're exploring the city alone. It has a lot of flourishes and flair that reminds you that you're in a cool exciting city, and slowly becomes more uplifting as it goes on, but still keeps the distinctly minor sound. (if it's in a major key shut up I don't care). It's also the theme for the time you spend with noelle, and like. in that context, it feels more like a friendly nostalgic melody than a bittersweet feeling. the familiarity of Girl Next Door is back, and honestly it borrows a lot of emotional cues from Girl Next Door. They are double edged and the feelings they evoke are very context sensitive. it can be a friendly warmth, or a wishing for better, older days.
Mini Studio - a return of the resistance motif. noticably lower res synthesizers but like. your funny little dudes are here :]
cool mixtape - Clown to the MAXIMUM. not in that it's the most carnival inspired but like. it's really bombastic and fun while also being built around queen's clowny and wacky motifs. The instrumentation also adds to the non-serious quality, making it sound like. well, a shittily recorded mixtape. Lol. It’s great.
Hey Every ! - This song evokes all the emotions of as corrupted seen on tv advertisements with a dash of clown. Very distinctly wacky upbeat song.
Spamton - This is where the creepy factor of spamton starts to kick in. It brings on the menacing atmosphere of being in this alleyway with an unstable puppet salesman who jumped out of the dumpster, however the silly vocals do take a LOT of the edge off the creepiness. Which is fitting for spamton. because he would more intimidating if his dialogue wasn't so ridiculous and silly, and if he wasn’t such a silly little guy.
Now's Your Chance to Be A - a very groovy and slightly menacing battle theme that makes you wanna get out of this situation, but it's not like. scary. it's just a little bit creepy. Like a haunted house. it's a really fun song though. the edge mostly serves to accentuate the wacky and fun qualities of the song, like salt enhancing the sweetness of a dessert.
Elegant Entrance - This has the same menacing/eerie quality as spamton’s battle theme, but much more genuine. it takes the formerly clowny harpsicord used with Queen’s themes, and makes it sound much more regal. It's not bittersweet though. just intimidating.
Bluebird of Misfortune - a VERY strongly minor sounding song, and while it's not a super deeply resonant sadness, it does minimize the wacky/funny factor.
Pandora Palace - the first majorly bombastic song. It's the buildup to the climax, and has a very unique blend of regal, groovy, and energetic sounds with a small sprinkle of bittersweet, mostly to build tension.
KEYGEN - really cool and gives an appropriate feeling for unlocking the door into the SECRET BOSS.
Acid Tunnel of Love - very relaxing, very happy melody. it almost dips into bittersweet at times, but is a solidly uplifting and soothing melody. It's a rest for the soul.
It's Pronounced "Rules" - Rgal in a way very different from Elegant Entrance and Pandora Palace. It's a kind of pretentious regalness, and is a big return to clowniness. Because Roulxs is a pretentious clown man.
Lost Girl - It’s. very bittersweet and nostalgic. It has solid uplifting moments to balance it out, but it's. not a super happy song. it's not a super sad one either. it's just. contemplative. emotional. it'd be a good song to cry to.
Ferris Wheel - A combination of Lost Girl and Girl Next Door, both in mood and actual motifs. It's got a lot more warmth than lost girl, and the chiptune main melody gives it the silliness it needs to take the edge off it’s bitersweetness. The upbeat and kinda whimsical harmonization helps with this too. It's a theme for two girls having an awkward but really nice and fun gay moment.
Attack of the Killer Queen - oh man.oh MAN.Such a good song. It's absolutely bombastic, fulfilling all the promises of epic finality and regal power that have been set up throughout the mansion section. It makes queen feel like a POWERFUL and intimidating villain for honestly like. the first time in the game. It also has the emotional quality, the feeling of un-rightness, once again driven by berdly being an antagonist, but the context is stronger, since you had just had the emotional connection with him and bringing him to your side.
Giga Size - this song does not let down any of the pressure from killer queen. it has all the menacing strength that you would expect from it, and takes the regal intimidation up to another level. it's supposed to make you feel like you've lost, and as far as the player knows, they have. Also it's a lot longer than you would expect??? the soundtrack is honestly filled with really short songs. but Giga Size is one of the longer ones, despite the short amount of time it actually plays. I don't remember ever being in that portion of the cutscene long enough to hear the full thing. it's worth a listen to if you haven't already.
Powers Combined - the uplifting counterbalance to Giga Size. It gets you pumped, and it has an air of finality stronger than attack of the killer queen. This is the final push. you're on the precipice of victory.
Knock You Down - This theme continues everything from Powers combined. It's less bombastic than Attack of the Killer queen, though bviously it's still very energetic and cool. It's serious in a more uplifting sense, but also quite tense. there is a lot on the line. This is the do or die moment. It both hypes you up and calms you down, and evokes a very particular emotion, especially given the context. Really good for getting in the zone.
The Dark Truth - another song that, while more emotional, doesn't hit super deep. Imo it feels like it’s going for an "exaggerated" sense of danger and sadness. Which makes sense if it's meant to instill some doubt in ralsei's credibility. it's still a very serious song, but it feels like it's trying a little too hard. (not necessarily in a bad way)
Digital Roots - a very menacing song, and probably the most truly menacing song in the soundtrack. Sets the atmosphere for the basement perfectly.
Deal Gone Wrong - This is the climax of Digital Roots and the whole process of getting the secret boss. You're in real danger now. The puppet man wants to make a deal, and he wants your soul.
BIG SHOT - woooh boy. This song carries a lot of this menace, but brings in a ton of bombastic energy and a little bit of clown as well. it's like Now's Your Chance To Be A, but more intense. The vocal editing really adds so much to this track. The motifs are very well used, and it's just an incredibly fun and dramatic song. it's groovy! it's wacky! it's intimidating! It gets you pumped! it's a very good song
A Real Boy - This one is a really nice song. it's got a very nice uplifting quality and there's a very subtle and like. almost angelic sharp pad in the background of it that you wouldn't immediately notice adds a lot to the texture of it, combined with the crunched and low res main synth. the background of that scene fits it perfectly. Childishly painted sun and sky and all that. He’s a real boy now. You freed him :). He can escape his strings now :)
dialtone - It’s like if you took one of the more emotional songs in the soundtrack and made it a little silly. Which makes sense. You're supposed to feel kinda bad for him, but he's still a weird wacky guy who just tried to kill you.
sans. - what do I need to say. it's sans's theme. it's wacky in an extremely chill way. it contrasts with basically all of deltarune's wacky characters, and that's perfectly cool. sans is a chill guy, especially in this game.
Chill Jailbreak Alarm To Study And Relax To - this one is just toby having fun. It's napstablook's theme with an alarm in the background. it's funny, it serves it's purpose as a gag. it's great.
You Can Always Come Home - this one has the nostalgic quality that I've been talking about very strongly, but the melody is just. It's so soothing and uplifting that you can't help but feel warm inside. it might be cold and snowing outside, but for now, you're home. you're with your family, you're sipping hot cocoa. Everything is right with the world, if only for a moment. You can always come home.
Until Next Time - another soothing melody, being a corrupted version of Don't Forget, and it evokes a lot of the same emotions, if a bit less strongly. It plays into the mystery of the ending, and would probably suit the snowgrave route pretty well. It's a good ending song in general though. It doesn't drown you in emotion. It lets you feel how you felt about what you just experienced.
Before the Story - really strong song. It's hard to fully analyze it given like. there isn't a lot of gameplay context. but it is a very dark and rich song. it's really good.
Berdly (Rejected Concept) - This song sucks ASS. it's like. pretentious. but also so cringe fail at the same.
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the boys but they’re idols
ft. bakugou katsuki. midoriya izuku & todoroki shouto
Note: yes, I missed prime pun opportunity to write ‘the boyz’ in the title. Anyway, I’ll be general enough to not include any real-life names and music, but I’ll get specific about other details. (Besides, if you squint real close you can see where I got my references from.) I’m thinking of a follow-up part, but we’ll see. Hope you enjoy!
* These headcanons are detailing each of the boys as a member in a hypothetical idol group, and not that they’re all in the same group.
** For context: the difference between main and lead positions is that main is the position that gets majority of the activity e.g. song, dance, rap, etc. Lead is more of a supporting role, but still important nonetheless.
Tags: idol!au, no x reader for this one, unless??, as you can see from the word length I think you’ll know who I’m partial to
Word count: 3.3k
BAKUGOU KATSUKI
Obviously an all-rounder. He can sing, dance, and rap, though his forte is definitely dancing.
Bakugou obviously has some mad hand-eye coordination if he can play the drums, and I haven’t even brought in his utilizing it through his quirk and fighting talent. He’s also very flexible when twisting through the air and extremely precise with his explosions
Thus, I’d say that his moves are the most on-beat and precise. He’s got very solid moves when dancing; imagine his limbs cutting the air in sharp, refined movements, and his flexibility leads him to be an overall powerful dancer.
Bakugou is a HUGE stickler for technique. Sure, he’s not above improvisation, but technique’s where he excels the most. He’s looking far ahead enough to not want to jeopardize his health by doing some dangerous moves that could potentially hurt his body, so he always takes extra care when going about them, such as taking advanced dance classes.
He works wonderfully as a center, because not only does he have this charisma that makes people unable to look away from him, his perfected balance between his fierce dancing and his emphasis on technique lead him to be a picture of refined strength, and an absolute delight to watch on stage
His facial expressions are definitely the best when he’s performing powerful songs, probably because he’s naturally angry lol. His worst concept has got to be cute, but while he dreads doing it, it’s not like he can’t pull it off. He’s an idol, dammit.
Bakugou’s that one member who wears a headband or bandanna during cutesy performances and sticks with it, because that’s the closest the stylists are ever gonna get to his hair
God forbid if he ever has curly or straight hair
He’s not against dying it though, but he still cares about the repercussions it has on his body, so he tries to refrain from dying it too often. (Which could be inevitable if his managers require him to, I know that. But I’m going to give the boys a little more leeway here to showcase their personalities.)
Anyway, a bandanna suits him just fine, and now he’s the trademark member with the bandanna haha
Some things that don’t change from canon are obviously his schedule. Boy still wakes up at the crack of dawn, probably goes for runs or do sets in the gym, make himself a healthy breakfast, then get down to work
Now I’m conflicted as to what position he would take in a group; I’m leaning towards main dancer
Then again, he IS an all-rounder, so really you could get him to do anything and he’ll be just fine
It’s not in his nature to fail, after all
He can sing, but since his voice is kind of gravelly he’s not the first choice for a main vocal. Strong lead vocal material, I’ll bet, because his voice adds a lot of color and diversity. It’s not something you’d usually hear in a song, that’s why.
He can rap, but again, his voice is gravelly and hard to hear, so I don’t think it would be too good a fit for fast-paced raps. Though, throw him one or two iconic rap lines in his natural ‘I’ll punch you in the face’ tone and you’ve got yourself an icon (and a meme) for days.
I can also see Bakugou being leader of the group, since in canon he’s actually the oldest in class 1-A. One thing though is his outward persona isn’t all that pristine; he has trouble switching gears into idol mode. As we know Bakugou doesn’t lie, regardless of circumstances, and he’s not about to start doing that just to be liked better. If any of these extras are going to be his fans, they’re going to have to recognize real talent, without all the fake smiles.
But because he knows what it could do to the group’s reputation if he came out to look like a big bad bully, he usually keeps his mouth shut during publicity events
He’s probably one of the first idols to have a not-so-sunny media persona, but fans mostly see him as this brooding, sulky kid that’s prepared to put 100% into everything he does
Which is why they still like him
Suffice to say, his fan-base is very similar to the BNHA fandom lmao
Cue all the memes on him being a jerk and everyone liking him anyway, but they know he’s fully committed to the group and wouldn’t want to do anything to risk its image
But over the years, and with the amount of events he’s been involved in, Bakugou’s learnt to let out his true personality one step at a time
He’s considering things carefully because he doesn’t want his fans to be jarred by his personality change all of a sudden, and also because he’s tired keeping up appearances
Jokes on him because the fans already know how he is and are just waiting for him to be more comfortable around the group to showcase his true feelings
And you know what? It sells!
His members also see him as some inspirational figure because his determination and commitment is truly unparalleled
And while he isn’t the easiest to get along with, they know that he’ll do anything within his abilities to push the group to greater heights
While that’s cute and all, it also means they have to suffer at the hands of Bakugou’s tough love. Tough luck
Besides being leader, I could also see him having a hand in producing as well
Remember when I said he was a stickler for technicality? Well, yeah, exactly this
If he feels something isn’t up to par he’d rather do it himself. I think he’d dabble in mixing for a bit and realize he actually has an ear for it, to which he’d then go on to producing whole songs that just awe his members and they’d be like ‘yeah let’s go with this’
And one more thing. Bakugou’s actually got an eye for fashion
Yeah, gripe all you want because all this boy ever wears in the dorms is skull shirts and black tanks but seriously, when he gets down to it, he knows what looks perfect on each member and can make little adjustments to change up a whole style
Courtesy of having designer parents lmao
Overall Bakugou is nothing if not capable. While it means he could definitely go solo at some point, he’s formed bonds with his members and knows he’s grown as a person as a result. And at this point he can only get better
In a leader position, he’s got the charisma, and is not afraid to push for changes if he thinks the status quo isn’t doing enough to ensure the members’ well-being
His weaknesses are obviously teamwork and perfectionism, but he’s been learning how to get along with others better, that it’s not all just a rat race for fame and influence, and he’s able to form some pretty lasting relationships (see: Kirishima)
Not perfectionism, though. He sees it as a strength and not for one second will he compromise. He wants nothing but the best quality, not just for himself, but for the fans
MIDORIYA IZUKU
Looks like the maknae but isn’t. That’s it, that’s the post
He has a really sweet voice so I can see him going for vocals. So imagine when he turns around, holds a mic in his hand and starts RAPPING
You got it, he’s a rapper. Look at the speed that kid goes when he’s mumbling and muttering to himself all the time
Cue Deku’s origin story where he’s mumbling to himself on the street and a talent scout hands him his business card asbfajgfsa
His enunciation is also clear, and his sweet voice makes for a very refreshing rap. That and he also writes his own rap, because if he’s going to be saying anything on that stage, he’s going to want it to mean something.
His raps are always soulful, with hard-hitting lyrics that serve to encourage and motivate anyone who hears and vibes with them.
Basically, his gap moe game is STRONG. Dude be spitting fire up there on stage but once he’s come down, he’s a timid, sweet, shy boi, with overreactions and exaggerations that just make him all the more endearing
He’s also a big fan favorite because he nails every concept well, and has a very down-to-earth personality which he doesn’t hide from the cameras
You want him to act cute and youthful? You’ve got it. You want him to go for something sexy? Um yeah, he’ll have his reservations, but he’ll still do well. You want him to be angry and powerful? The strength in his gaze has got you trembling from the pit.
He’s not just a fan favorite but also that of the staff. Seriously Deku deserves all the love in the world and in this world, he’s going to get it
He’s in the position for main rapper, but I could see him going for lead vocals as well. He’s got a sweet, clear voice that immediately tugs on anyone’s heartstrings the moment they hear it, and he’s usually given more lines in ballads. His vocal range isn’t bad, he can reach moderately high notes, but sometimes his voice undergoes strain. He’s training for that, though!
As for his dance style, Deku probably goes for freestyle! He’s got this easy-going, totally relaxed style going for him that’s full of swag (omg outdated word alert) that makes his movements very smooth. He’s also reasonably flexible, though not as flexible as Bakugou or Todoroki, so he still can pull off certain dance moves.
Unpopular opinion, but it’s Deku, not Todoroki, who looks good in EVERYTHING. Literally his stylist is squealing backstage because they can go ham on dressing him. You could put him in a gold chain and ripped jeans OR an oversized hoodie and rompers, and it’d just go. The only thing is his hair though; he’s thinking of selling it as his charm point (not his freckles!) so he’d prefer if it could stay green. He doesn’t mind if they style it different ways though
The fans would go ballistic if they saw Deku with an undercut, and chances are they’re going to get to see it
He’s definitely one for improvisation! He’s very flexible with these changes, much like how he considers his growth in canon. He’s always looking to try out new styles or moves and see if it fits for him
Besides, I also see him producing! It’s because he’s so immersed in his idol career that he’s always studying new trends on the scene and making them into formulas for the group. He’s also thinking of marketing strategies in his free time
Everyone better be afraid of businessman Deku because he’ll be stealing those bucks from right under your nose
He’s also got mean leadership skills, but I don’t see him in a leader position
Rather, he’s like the second-eldest-but-co-leader kind of guy! He assists the leader in any way he can, and always serves to inspire and motivate the younger ones to work harder together as a team
Deku’s still got that shounen-protagonist charm, even in this world
But for all his good points, Deku still worries he isn’t enough
He knows how cut-throat the industry can be, having studied it inside and out, and he doesn’t want to lag behind
Cue him getting up at odd hours of the morning to use the practice studio (without waking up the others, of course) and other instances
Whenever his members realize he’s been overworking, literally everyone turns on him
He used to be the mom figure, but the moment he’s ushered into bed, a cooling pad on his forehead and thermos at his bedside desk, and the members even station one person to be in the living room so if he tries to leave his room to practice by himself they’ll see him
Jokes on them because Deku practices in his room
He practically moves in his sleep as if trying to get the muscle memory down
Precious boy must protecc!
In sum, Deku’s a great teammate to have and a valuable asset to the team
He’s also the best of friends and is never one to let a fellow member down
Probably the first to burst into tears if the group ever disbands
With his talent and fan-base, he could definitely go solo. But more than that, he wants to cherish the time he has with his members and achieve greater milestones with them every day
TODOROKI SHOUTO
High-key a visual. I mean, everyone wants to look like him!
Like. Everyone stops to look at him whenever he enters the room. Staff, producers, backstage crew, everyone. Even his members, sometimes.
Man’s just too pretty not to stare at
That's not to say he isn't talented, oh no. He's much like Bakugou, an all-rounder, but he's gone through rigorous training from when he was young to get there
Definitely not because of genes, no offense to Rei
As much as Enji is a major shareholder in the industry, anyone who sees Todoroki strut his stuff and still says he got in because of his father has got to be blind. Or deaf. Or plain stupid.
Sure, he had all that training courtesy of his dad. But the moment he enters as a trainee, it's all him from there and no one else.
He's a lot withdrawn at first, still is, but he's improved a lot from when he first joined. It's because of the support he's gained from both his members and fans that he's able to push himself to be the best version of himself everyday
He definitely doesn't come out and say it, but he's probably the most grateful for his fans. As in his family isn't the only lifeline left for him anymore
Todoroki has an amazing voice; while his speaking voice is low, he can reach higher notes without much difficulty. His tone is deep, somber and perfect for ballads, but the training he's undergone has made his technique immaculate. He's got excellent control, he can do runs and riffs effortlessly and he's even perfected his growl. Fans won't even see it coming
His dancing on the other hand is a lot about technique; but unlike Bakugou, Todoroki probably did classical and contemporary dance training as opposed to hip-hop or popping. Because of that, his movements are smooth and elegant, and he always carries himself with the grace of a dancer
That's not to say he cannot be an absolute beast on stage, of course. He's just more in his element when it comes to melancholic ballads, and he's had a hand in choreographing contemporary routines before
That experience and knowledge easily make him a capable choreographer for the group
After all those years of not being able to properly express himself, Todoroki learnt to let his dance tell a story in itself
He's also a fast learner, so any hip-hop techniques he easily picks up and incorporates into the routine
This makes me think he’s going to be a main dancer and a lead vocal, maybe even main vocal
I don’t see him in a leader position because while he has the charisma for it, I think he’d lack in communication, like Bakugou. They’re both a bit too used to doing things on their own that they 1) can’t trust anyone else to do it right and 2) as a result have never consulted other people about how they do things
The difference is Bakugou is a little more observant and far-thinking enough to be a leader, but it doesn’t make Todoroki any less important
If anything, he’s the mom friend, and always makes sure that the members stay in line and out of trouble
Also, for some reason, he's got exceptional charisma on stage and he doesn't even know it
Like, a sexy song comes on and then there’s Todoroki's smoldering heterochromatic gaze
Fans: omgomgomg how is he so hot what the—
Him: ??? This is my normal face tho
It's a strange feeling. One moment, he can be humping the floor and another moment he's got dimples in his cheeks from smiling. It makes him look like a totally different person, even though he's the same guy
His fans don't know why either
As much as he has a creative outlet in dance, Todoroki thinks he has no talent for songwriting or producing. He doesn't consider them his areas of expertise and if he was asked to write lyrics he'd have a hard time because he rarely expresses himself with words. He'd fret on it and eventually not get much done, so why try?
He does help out though, in offering suggestions on how to proceed, but he won't take the lead for any of these. Only dancing
That and his growing up with a businessman father leads him to also know the industry rather well, so he can offer some insights as to what image they could go for and how to market their discography
When it comes to styling, Todoroki is an absolute Mess. The things he likes and wants to wear doesn't suit him all that much, and the stylists usually have a hard time picking out clothes that really accentuate his look and figure. The myriad of colors in his hair and face lead to color clashes, but they find that red and blue are usually the go-to colors.
Did I mention that Todoroki doesn't mind dying his hair as long as they don't dye the white part? Enough said
They've done rainbow on him before!
He also doesn't cover up his scar, and over the years he's learnt to make it his charm point
It serves to make him a noticeable figure in the industry (as if his heterochromia weren’t enough) but it also makes him easily recognisable to fans
It’s not like he doesn’t like interacting with his fans, but sometimes some of them get a little too close, or ask questions that are way too personal
During those times, he’s at least got his members to relate and support him through it
The cutest thing about this man has got to be when he interacts with fans
Like, he’s pretty expressionless most of the time, but he always makes sure that his fans know that he’s extremely happy to have them here, and that he’ll continue doing the best he can for them
If you’re lucky and catch a small smile from him when you’re at a fan sign, I guess you could die peacefully
To summarize, Todoroki is a sweet bean but hardly ever shows it
When people praise his looks, he’s humble about them (though it’s more because he doesn’t know or think he’s attractive… baby just doesn’t see it)
And to top it all off, he’s a charmer on and off stage with his quiet, sensitive nature and calm demeanor
He’s also the one that’s most likely to have a modeling career outside of his idol work
He can’t act for the life of him even though he’s got the expressions right on stage
Like Deku and Bakugou, he could always go solo, but his reason for not doing so is mainly because he’s found a new family, here with his members, and he doesn’t want to lose it
He doesn’t even mind if they don’t produce music anymore. As long as everyone sticks together and has a good time, he’s willing
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you haven’t checked out my other pieces, you can find them on my masterlist; if you have, thank you for your support! I’m trying to post something new every week, so stay tuned :)
#bnha headcanons#mha headcanons#bnha idol au#mha idol au#bakugou katsuki#bakugou headcanons#midoriya izuku#midoriya headcanons#todoroki shouto#todoroki headcanons
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In My Arms
A Jaskier x Reader oneshot
Word count: 2600
Warnings: None
Summary: When a bard tries to woo a barkeep, things get complicated.
Rain splattered against the windows of the tavern. The noise could barely be heard above the din of the patrons, but it was still there. A grimace crossed your face as you polished the tankards. You hadn’t worn a cloak to work. You would get soaked on the way home. Tucking that thought safely into the back of your mind, you went back to work, changing out and lighting the candles before tending to the fire in the hearth to keep your patrons warm. The rainy nights were always the busiest, with travelers stopping in to step out of the storms until they passed. After all, it was cheaper to stop for a night, or at the very least a few hours, than it was to care for a cold. Taking your apron from beneath the bar, you unfolded it with a flourish. The stain from last night’s stew was still on the corner, but you didn’t care. You’d get a new one next month when your sister got a new dress. You could use her old one to make a new apron for both of you. With your back to the door, you fastened the apron around you.
“Lass, can you fetch water from the fountain?” the owner asked.
“Now?” you asked, trying to hide your irritation.
“It’s either now or there won’t be a meal tonight,” she replied.
A sigh passed through your lips. “Yes, Mistress.”
Steeling yourself for the cold, damp night, you paused at the door to take a breath. Once you’d worked yourself up enough, you grabbed the water buckets and opened the door.
It was pouring outside. A steady waterfall cascaded off the roof. You’d have to pass through it. There was no way around it. In the back of your mind, you contemplated just leaving the bucked outside to catch the rain. It would fill soon enough with rain like this, and the fountain was farther than you’d like to travel. You’d catch a cold in weather like this.
“Do you always stand in doorways?” a man teased as he stood under the awning of the tavern.
“Do you always lurk outside of them?” you shot back.
“Only when a pretty woman is blocking the way through,” he winked.
You rolled your eyes, taking in the lute on his back. A bard. Oh joy.
“Are you going out without a cloak? You’ll get soaked,” he pointed out.
“Well, I have to fetch water for the stew,” you sighed, stepping out under the awning with him.
“So just....” the man mimed putting the bucket out in the rain and letting the rain fill them. Then he thumbed back towards the tavern, “They’ll never know the difference.”
The idea was growing more tempting by the minute. “Fine. It’s better than catching my death.” With a furtive glance back towards the tavern, you placed the buckets out to collect the water. With the rate it was falling, the buckets were filled in minutes and ready to be brought back inside. The owner didn’t even notice that you were dry when you returned, or if they did, they didn’t mention it.
The bard started to play after he ate a light dinner. His music was lively, brightening up the dark night. You couldn’t help but smile as you listened. His stories were funny and fanciful, making you long for places you’d never see and dreams that could never be.
As he performed, his eye caught yours and he gave you a wink. Your heart fluttered in a way you wish it hadn’t as you blushed and went about your work. You gave him a wide birth the rest of the night, watching how the man who had been trying to court you eyed the bard. No, it was for the best if you didn’t go down that path.
When you cleaned up the bard’s table once the tavern was empty, you noticed he had left you some coins with a note saying they were for a new apron. They felt heavy in your hand. You couldn’t take these, could you? What would it mean if you did? Perhaps you should just give them back to him tomorrow. Tucking them in your pocket, you decided to do just that. Then, you finished up your cleaning and went to home.
The following night, when the bard walked up to the bar you slid the coins back to him.
“You forgot these,” you murmured.
“I didn’t forget. I gave them. To you,” he said pointedly.
“I can’t accept these,” you sighed. “You earned them. They are yours. Use them to have an actual meal instead of just bread tonight.”
He looked down at the coins before back up at you, realizing that you wouldn’t budge. He swallowed a lump in his throat before picking them back up. “A-alright, yes. I’ll do that.”
You nodded, placing a drink in front of him. “Do you have a name, bard?”
“Jaskier,” he grinned, “But, you can call me yours.”
A chuckle spilled from your lips. “Does that usually work?”
He shrugged. “Hit or miss.”
Shaking your head at him, you went back to work.
“I will win you over!” he called out after you.
A blush settled on your cheeks. You’d never had a man put in this much effort before. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. He winked at you before going to play for the crowd, never taking his eyes off you the rest of the night.
This went on every night for a week until the weekend finally rolled around and you decided to get to the bottom of it all.
You were behind the bar, cleaning some tankards when you heard the door open. Thinking nothing of it, you went to reach for another glass. That was, until the strumming started.
A sigh past through your lips as you looked towards the heavens. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Not when it comes to you,” a voice admitted from behind you.
“What do you want, bard?” you asked tiredly as you turned to face him.
“I thought that was obvious,” he grinned. “You. What else is a man to do in order to win the affections of his muse?”
“You’ll have to try harder than that, Jaskier,” you murmured as you swept by him.
“Is it because of him?” he asked softly, taking your arm to stop you. His head nodded towards the man in the corner, a local boy that had admired you since you were younger. Most of the villagers thought you’d end up together. He also came here every night just to see you. Jaskier gently ran his hand along your jaw before tipping your face up towards his.“You don’t look at him the way you look at me.”
“And how is that?” you asked, looking up into his eyes. They were as clear as two aquamarines. Precious stones that looked at you like somehow you were more rare.
“You look at him as an obligation. An inevitability. He’s boring. You see me as an adventure.”
“All adventures come to an end, Jaskier, and we all end up back in our boring lives,” you sighed, pulling yourself free from him.
His gaze followed you through the tavern as you delivered drinks to the patrons. He continued to strum, after all, he had to make a living somehow. But, there was less mirth in his songs the rest of the night. He left without goodbye that evening, something you realized as you cleaned the tables after the patrons went to bed. Why did that disappoint you? Your brow furrowed as you realized it was because you were giving up on a dream. A silly dream, but a dream nonetheless. Sure, the bard may be exciting, but it wasn’t real. His statements of you being his muse couldn’t be true. They were just what he said to get in bed with his next conquest. He’d move on, and you’d still be here, left in the wake of destruction caused by the sea in his eyes.
Finishing up for the night, you went home. Pulling your cloak around you to keep you warm in the cold night air, you let out an exhale at the fact that you may never see Jaskier again. You didn’t know where he lived, or if he’d come back through town once more, and if he did, would you really be content to wait until that day came? Looking at the ground, you realized that yes, you would be content, because then the dream wouldn’t die. It was foolish and you knew it, but you also knew that you were starting to fall in love with that idiot who winked at you without shame and looked at you as if you were his own personal Euterpe.
With a shake of your head at the lost cause, you unlocked the door to your small cottage and went inside. In minutes you had started up a fire on the hearth to warm you. You sat on a chair next to it to warm your feet, but your mind was elsewhere.
In your mind, you were on adventures with a bard, journeying through forests and caves to find the next best thing. As amazing as it was, you knew it wasn’t what you truly wanted. You wanted Jaskier, yes, but you didn’t want to constantly be on the move for the rest of your life. Some day you wanted to settle down and have a family. You didn’t know if he felt the same- if he were capable of the same.
A sigh passed through your lips as you got up to go to bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and walking towards the other room.
And then you heard it.
Strumming.
“It can’t be,” you murmured, but your feet moved on their own accord to your front door. Your hands had a mind of their own as they threw open the door to see a bard sitting on your garden wall as he strummed his lute.
He looked up at you with a smile.
“Jaskier, what are you doing here?” you asked, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.
“Darling, I wrote something for you and I wanted you to hear it. But, I thought I’d play it just for you this time,” he said, shyly looking down and peeking up at you through his lashes.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured, walking towards him.
“What bard would I be if I didn’t serenade my muse with the works she inspired?” he asked with a confident smirk, but he was blushing.
You chuckled softly. “Then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”
He nodded and started to strum again, in earnest this time. The melody washed over you. Each pluck of the lute was like playing one of your heartstrings. It was beautiful on its own. It was light but strong. Then, he started to sing.
“The world may be dark, the air may be cold, but here in my arms to have and to hold, a kiss forms a spark to light up the dark. With you in my arms, I will grow bold, together we’ll write a story untold,” he said before finishing with a flourish.
The two of you stood in silence for a moment.
“I haven’t finished it yet,” he admitted.
“I’m sure it’ll be great when it’s done,” you murmured.
His smile fell. “Yes, well...”
“I love it,” you said, taking his lute and placing it on the wall next to him. “And... if you meant it, then I love you, too.”
“Y-you do?” he asked as he jumped down to stand in front of you. “I mean. I do mean it. I meant every word. I’ve been serenading you all week with love songs, but they weren’t working. I figured if I wrote you my own then maybe... I’d have a chance.”
You shook your head. “For a man that acts so confident all the time...”
“When I’m sure of something, I’m unsure of myself,” he admitted.
“And you’re sure of me?” you asked with a grin.
He reached up to cup your cheek, gently pushing your hair out of your face. “Ever since you were willing to brave a rainstorm for your work. You’re dedicated. If you’re willing to do something like that out of obligation, then I couldn’t begin to imagine how dedicated you’d be to something purely because you wanted to be.”
“But you’re an adventurer, Jaskier. I’m... not sure I’d always want to be,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “You have an adventurous heart.”
“Who’s to say love isn’t the biggest adventure of all?” he asked earnestly.
“A story untold is a lofty goal,” you replied.
“You dare me to dream big,” he grinned.
“What if I disappoint you?” you sighed.
“You won’t.”
“But how do you know?” you pleaded.
“Because I love you,” he said laughed, “I have never put in this much effort for a woman. But, something told me that I couldn’t just give up on you.” He leaned his forehead against yours and added, “On us.”
“You’re a fool,” you whispered.
“So I’ve been told,” he said softly with a half smile, “But only fools fall in love.”
“I guess that makes me one, too,” you replied, looking into his eyes.
His arms encircled your waist to pull you against him.
“But here in my arms, to have and to hold,” he murmured.
You bit your lip. “A kiss forms a spark to light up the dark.”
Slowly, he turned his head, nose bumping yours. Your hands slipped up his chest before gently grabbing his collar. His lips connected with yours, softly at first. Then, the kiss grew desperate as you started to kiss back harder and harder, pulling him back with you towards your cottage. Reaching back, he grabbed his lute and let you lead him back inside before pushing you up against the closed door. He placed his lute on the ground next to the door as his hands came up under your skirts to lift you. You jumped a bit, wrapping your legs around his waist as your hands slid into his hair and tugging gently. He moaned against your lips as he pressed you further into the door.
Finally, you pulled back for air.
“With you in my arms-” he started but you cut him off with another round of kisses.
You trailed your lips along his jaw towards his neck before gently nipping his ear, causing him to gasp. You felt your back leave the door as he started to walk towards your bedroom. His hands kneaded you as he walked, little moans and gasps of praise slipping from his mouth as your lips assaulted his neck with kisses and love bites.
He dropped you on your bed and kissed you hard as his hands slipped your skirts up past your knees. A giggle escaped your lips.
“What?” he asked, stopping to look down at you from inches above you.
Leaning up, you answered. “I will grow bold,” you teased in his ear.
Gently, his thumb traced circles on your bare thighs, slowly working up them. He looked down at his hands for a moment before flicking his eyes up to yours. “Together, we’ll write a story untold,” he murmured.
Cupping his face, you pulled his lips back down to meet yours, losing yourself in him. The fire in the other room was dying out, but you didn’t care. You had a different source of heat, one that was showing you just how adventurous love could be, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
#jaskier x reader#the witcher#jaskier#fem!reader#because I mentioned lass one time#in my arms#the witcher fanfiction
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Our Nightly Confidant 3
Time for the Forgotten
He wonders. There's a question gnawing at him. Twilight knew. His wolf-boy had not wavered in the slightest when Time had suggested they could be related by blood. He'd been... serious. So serious. Scarily serious. It was a bit of a glance in his mirror shield. The reflection similar enough that it took some effort to mask it with nonchalance. Twilight hadn't been ashamed, more wistful and awed than anything after that talk with Malon.
But he had started to notice the way Twilight looked at him when no one else did.
Twilight knows. Twilight knows and he is a fine young man that Time is so, so proud of. He's not the favorite, because he can't have one. It's a different bond though (something like what he has with Warriors), and he always made sure to never let that influence his decisions on this quest.
The others don't doubt their place with the group. Not because of Time, at least. It's the least he can do for those incredible young men.
He just feels the question come and go in the dark. Twilight hadn't trained with a sword before his quest. Their technique is so similar however... He has to have been taught.
His heart hovers between settled and troubled, and it's the most innocuous thing that tips the balance.
A jab amongst others as they're cutting down wood for a fire, of all things.
Twilight, chainmail and shirt off, wipes sweat off his brows, an axe across his shoulders and a pile of neatly cut branches by his feet. “So slow,” he says, teasing his brother-in-arm a few trees over. “Didn't they run drills like those in the army?”
As always when pricked, Warriors heckles back. “Not every one of us was born in a barn, ranchhand!”
“For your information, I was found in the woods as a toddler, thank you very much,” Twilight replies, taking on an exaggerated snobbish accent. Or what he thinks passes as. It's a bit hard to tell with Twilight's countryside drawl.
The others laugh, join in the mockery, and they don't notice their leader taking a second to digest the news.
Twilight is his descendant. Twilight was adopted at too young an age to remember his birth parents. Might not even know their names.
And a wound he thought was closing suddenly bleeds inside him.
***
It's a slow evening, almost night, and they haven't encountered a monster in days. But he's reeling, his head spinning.
His mind is filled with questions he knows are futile. Pointless bites from a cruel, unknowable future.
Which of Twilight's parents had the Hero's blood? Was it a granddaughter or grandson that perished, leaving a little boy orphaned? Had they known? Twilight mentioned having the Triforce of Courage since as long as he could remember. Had his parents learned only then of the heritage? When their son was marked by fate?
Was it a lack of knowledge that had killed Twilight's birth parents? Training?
The Goddesses truly are cruel, to confirm all his greatest fear in the same breath they gave him a glimpse of triumph. He doesn't know how to feel.
Time knows he ought to talk to someone about those things. About the choice he'd been offered. Even if it felt like breathing glass, like baring his own naked flesh to the elements. He's done it before, mostly with Malon, bless his darling wife. He's spoken the words, cried in whispers and fallen asleep on a damp pillow with the arms of his love around him.
He let his Zelda erase all the suffering Ganondorf wrought, and that very act might have condemned his own to an ignominious death. Might have cost Twilight his birthright. Worse still is the knowledge Wind offered him: the timeline hadn't vanished either. What was the point then? A childhood he couldn't recover even with a child's body? A forsaken land threatened by a mad demon?
He should speak.
He... can't.
He sits down on a rock and ignores the few curious gazes of the boys when he pulls open his inventory. Other times, he might play with them, dance on their expectations and see their astonishment while he laughs inside.
He can't laugh right now.
His fingers close on the instrument, which sends a tingling of power through his hand. An ocarina to commune with the goddesses. He's not a pious man, never had the need, but as he raises the pipe end to his lips, it does feel like praying.
The Song of Healing.
Music to sooth pain beyond flesh and bones.
Why, then, does it only sound like screeching to his ears?
He put so many to rest in that forsaken place. Why can't he turn that power on himself? Why is he not allowed the slightest bit of-?
Something hits him in the chest. The last note of the song goes wild, off-key, and it stops the old memory playing in his head.
“Wolfie?” they call, some puzzled, a few like Wind rather ecstatic by the presence of the pup's beast form.
“... Did he just headbutt the old man?” Legend asks, smirking.
“Maybe the music hurts his ears?” Sky ponders.
Time doubts that. For one, Hylian ears wouldn't hurt enough for that kind of reaction even if he started playing as badly as he felt. No, it was the song that got Twilight into that state.
The whine Twilight makes pulls at some long dead heartstrings. Despite his size, worrying strength and undeniable intelligence, that sound alone gives Twilight the air of a kicked puppy.
The pup can't know, he tells himself. His heritage had been unknown to him until his quest, he mentioned that once. He can't know what the Song of Healing means, what playing it is supposed to do.
But the pain in Twilight's sky-blue eyes speaks otherwise.
“I suppose I ought to be more considerate of our canine friend,” Time declares, dusting off his pants. “My equipment could use a bit of maintenance.”
Busy work. The song had been a bad idea anyway.
As he stands though, he feels Wolfie's fang graze his hands and heels. Tug at his sleeves.
“Not sure he agrees with that,” Wild comments, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Wild knows what this is, and Time has the creeping idea that he's being herded like a goat.
“He'll have to get used to the idea,” he replies, more even than he feels.
The sympathetic feeling is starting to flicker at the repeated nipping. To be a hero, one needs to be stubborn. In this case, Time rather feels this is turning against him. He's rarely been the target of Twilight's protective streak. Fewer still as Wolfie. He is starting to understand that the style of comfort changed quite a bit during the transition. The inability to talk forces his protege to go physical.
And physical for a wolf...
Air is shoved out of his lungs as a massive weight crashes on his back.
“Not gonna work, pup,” Time bites out, trying and failing to keep walking as if nothing is wrong.
Wild's meals are far too rich if this is the result. A big lug of a wolf not knowing his place. He could shake him off, but now his pride is shouting for a decisive victory. He can't surrender so much authority at once. The group's survival and very continued existence depends on it!
His foot hits one of the logs they cut to sit. Of course.
Twilight chooses that moment to jump off. Of course.
Time has no time to brace himself for the puddle of mud. Of. Course.
Would the Goddesses strike him deaf so he doesn't have to hear the explosion of laughter shaking the camp!
His successor looks awfully smug, huffing and puffing on his side of the dead campfire.
Far too smug, in fact.
And, before he knows what's happening, Time finds himself chasing after that insolent youngster throughout the clearing under the thunderous laughter of seven other heroes.
Wolves are faster, but Time has far too many tricks up his sleeves to be bested. A hundred years of training might allow this brat to compete. MIGHT!
And when he collapses not too long after, it's side by side with an equally panting but not as annoyed pup.
He lets out a long sigh, his head lolling on a patch of moss, and the word is more mouthed than spoken: “Why?”
“Woof,” Twilight barks.
It's nonchalant, a little mocking and very much the non-answer Time would give in his place. He hadn't intended for his wall-building tactics to be turned against him this way. But, he supposes, a teacher can't always choose what his students will take from them.
There is, however, a clear hierarchy that needs reestablishing.
Time's grown up with eternal children. He has years of training in zero-ing of the most sensible weak spots in a body. Specifically, where one is most ticklish.
The effect is immediate, over-the-top and oh so satisfying.
Wolfie jumps five feet in the air. He tries to bolt, but in all his arrogance, hadn't realized he'd stayed too close to escape Time's grip.
(The others are watching with wide eyes as their glorious leader play-fights with their massive wolf-friend. Bets are, perhaps, being made.)
Only when the yipping sounds appropriately pitiful does Time give in and stop his ministrations. With a breathless laugh, he lets himself fall on his side, right next to his infuriating descendant. Clearly, Malon would have to be a stricter parent (Time knows he can't be one if his life depends on it) if this is the standard behavior to be expected of his lineage.
For a moment, Time lets himself lay there, on moist grass, half over, half under a wolf with behavioral problems. The thought, again, that he is promised a family line, that this irritating young man descends from him, soothes the old scars on his heart. Despite himself, his hand finds the soft fur and runs through the coat. He doesn't know the future. Few if none knows the full extent of his past. He's long learned to live in a world of strangers wearing friendly faces, of clueless happiness fueled by nightmares of events that, ultimately, never happened. He's a man of faded dreams, to be recognized only by the most precious few.
Some of the weight shifts, and Twilight's big head lies down on top of his chestplate, a soft glint in those gentle blue eyes. Time can hardly move, even if, at the moment, he finds himself comfortable enough resting with his eldest son.
… Which, now that he thinks about it, is what Twilight had been after all along.
“You damned nosy pup,” he says, smacking himself on the forehead. “It's not your job to worry. It's mine.”
The glare he receives goes straight to his soul. As if, it challenges. They really are the same on that front, aren't they? Him and his eldest?
Time can't even tell when it happened, but his chest doesn't feel tight anymore despite the added wolf head. His worries seem so much smaller when his descendant can wrestle-trick him into submission with ease. The boys would be alright.
“Thank you... ”
It's when he sits down by the campfire later that evening, glaring at a smug Twilight over his bowl of soup, that he suddenly realizes the ache has gone. That the bitterness of all his pain being forgotten just... didn't matter in front of that cheeky boy smirking at him.
Even his heart betrays him by going warm with pride. He's impressed.
It shouldn't be a surprise.
After all, his successor is descended from his Malon too. And she always knew best how to handle him.
“You're getting second watch tonight, pup.”
The grunt of annoyance is hardly repayment for a faceful of mud, but you take what revenge you can get. That's another lesson living with the kokiris taught him.
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Fine Line by Harry Styles: The Sunshine We Needed Through A Very Dreary Year
Or An Album Review (One Year Later)
On December 13, 2019, Harry Styles graced the world with his second studio album, Fine Line, and I don’t think it has ever left my Recently Played section on my Spotify account since its release.
I honestly don’t know how I would have survived 2020 without this album. As I reflect on everything this year had to offer, I realized this record will always shine through as it is tied to my best memories of the year.
I listened to this album a lot, with three of my five top songs from my Spotify Wrapped coming from Fine Line. (They were “Sunflower, Vol. 6″, “Golden”, and “To Be So Lonely”, respectively, if you were curious!)
I spent dull afternoons in January walking around the freshly snow covered ground on my college campus blasting “Lights Up” in my headphones. This single was released in October 2019, two months prior to the release of Fine Line, and had been a top favorite of mine with its 70s soulful style. Not to mention, the small choir of backup singers and layering synth gave me an almost nostalgic as the Christmas season started to come to an end. This song was all about finding who you are- and I was starting to figure out who I am with it.
The next month I visited Denver for a conference and I began noticing how this record was starting to become the soundtrack to my year. February’s track was “Sunflower, Vol. 6″ where I started to feel my attachment to this song. I am not sure if it was the mesmerizing lyrics, the drums, or even the Indian instrument known as a sitar that made me really hooked to this song... But as I walked through the streets of rainy Denver (which would normally make me feel very gloomy), I couldn’t help grinning from ear-to-ear as I listened to this song. It’s the feel-good musical track you listen to, in whatever mood you’re in.
Sometimes I can’t fathom how apocalyptic March felt. The beginning of March was completely normal, and I was at my peak. Looking back now, I can’t wrap my head around that I attended five live shows within one week during that month. But all good things come to an end, right? And of course suddenly, it all came crashing down. I was sent packing up my college freshman dorm and moved back home with my parents while juggling all my courses remotely. There was a song that I was always replaying though, and that was “Golden.” Arguably one of the most upbeat tracks on Fine Line, next to “Sunflower, Vol. 6,″ but the lyrics say otherwise. As the opening track, it has a very chill pop vibe, but listen closely to the lyrics. The contrast pulls at my heartstrings every. single. time.
“Cherry” and April go hand-in-hand for me. As I continued to navigate my thoughts and feelings with the pandemic, struggling with the course load of online courses, and overall the anxiousness of all the unknowns- “Cherry” was the comfort I needed. With its soft acoustic guitar, it is the perfect song for any in-your-feels playlist. And trust me when I say that the fragility of “Cherry” really helped me when I was in my feels.
Arguably the biggest summer hit of this year was “Watermelon Sugar,” and my go-to anthem of wanting to feel any normalcy of a summer that I stayed mostly indoors for. I remember when the music video dropped in May, I was grabbing coffee with a friend and begged her to watch the video with me. We sat in her car in the middle of a park, watching the YouTube video count down to the premiere of “Watermelon Sugar”. That “this video is dedicated to touching” opening message made me laugh and realized how truly brilliant Harry’s mind is. The warm, very enjoyable tune made this the perfect summer anthem with its really good electric guitar and slide guitar mixed with the horn. It’s the one song that will stay in your head for weeks.
Another song that feels like summer to me is “Canyon Moon.” In the end of June, I went ‘glamping’ (otherwise known as glamorous camping, we stayed in a very nice tiny house in the middle of the most wooded area that Nebraska could get) with my family. It’s a very upbeat song with a nostalgic feel, and the fun instrument rhythms can’t help but make you beam. The song also experiments with a dulcimer; a musical instrument with a long rounded body and a fretted fingerboard played by bowing, plucking, and strumming. I think this is what makes the song more upbeat and happy, especially the beginning as well as the slide guitar giving it unique sounds throughout. It personally is one of my least favorites on the album, but it does make me think of warm summer days and spending time with family every time I do listen to it.
July was starting to feel a little rough for me again. I was really getting tired of staying indoors and barely seeing any of my friends. I was really longing to go back to school and being around my people again. “To Be So Lonely” was a song that felt like it really understood me. Harry revealed in an interview with Rolling Stone that the song was composed on a guitalele, which resembles the sound of guitar, for that light and upbeat tone that the chords give off, backing the lyrics. It’s the perfect song you listen to when you’re sad, and you’re ready to push past it. And I knew that I was ready to push past my sadness because I had one more month until I was surrounded in community.
“Adore You” was the second single of Fine Line that was released. This song is filled with so much love and passion- and it was the same immense feelings I had in August when I got ready to move back to my college town and see all my friends again. As I packed my bags and moved into my sorority house, I constantly played this song. What can I say? This was a really great song to vibe with, especially with the opening keyboard and the consistent bass that you cannot help but groove to!
Out of all the months of this year, surprisingly September was one of my darkest. With only two weeks living into my sorority house, I made the decision to move out for the safety of mine and my family’s health. I moved back in with my parents again during this month, and I felt completely lost. “Falling” had the same underlying message of being lost. This love ballad displays a theme of brokenness and creates a tone of unhappiness- the perfect song for a post-breakup or an in-your-feels playlist. I had this song on repeat more times than I can count- the soft piano setting a broken and lonely tone.
The beginning of October began to really turn around for me. I moved into an apartment with one of my best friends and I was back in my college town. I was starting to find community again and “Treat People With Kindness” became this month’s anthem. Coined after Harry’s Treat People With Kindness (TPWK) campaign, this song has a 1970s sound and makes you want to dance along with the catchy choir lyrics such as “Maybe we can/Find a place to feel good/And we can treat people with kindness”. The lyrics were very prevalent in my life, especially with the amping news of the presidential election and the continuation of the pandemic. This song was the best reminder to be kind to myself, and those around me. And let’s not forget the conga sound throughout! I believe Queen would have been very proud of this underrated track.
The timeless mature sound of “She” could have not fit November anymore. I celebrated my twentieth birthday this month (which of course included a Harry Styles themed birthday party with my roommate and some close friends). The guitar kicking in at the chorus giving so much emotion to Harry’s voice, and that’s exactly how I felt around my birthday. Lots of emotions. Not to mention, the guitar solo played by Mitch Rowland sounds like it could have been something that was released years ago, with a little modern touch. It’s growing to be one of my personal favorites on the album.
Lastly, we get to December and I felt as if this year was the longest year of my life (but also flown by way too quick). The song that resonated with me most this month was “Fine Line,” the last track of the album (and the longest at 6 minutes and 16 seconds). My favorite memories in December consist of driving around with my friend, looking at all the Christmas lights as we drink hot cocoa and blast “Fine Line”- singing our hearts out to the repetitive lyrics of “we’ll be fine line” and “we’ll be alright.” Harry discussed in an interview with Capital FM that this song would always be the last on the album, and how fitting that I resonated with this song most in the last month of the year. “Fine Line” represents the ups and downs of life, and the thin line that separates the two. This song that includes an orchestra, drums, horn, acoustic guitar, and melodies building in the background, it could not be the most perfect finale to the album- and to the year 2020.
Today is December 13, 2020- exactly one year after Fine Line has been released. Since then, Harry Styles has made headlines from petty to political. He has shown up for Black Lives Matter, cared for our sleeping habits by releasing an audio bedtime story, made us feel confident in wearing whatever we want as he appeared as the first solo male on American Vogue- all while accomplishing some of his greatest achievements with this album: releasing five music videos, being nominated for three Grammys, and climbing the music charts and catching the hearts of critics.
But Harry accomplished something even greater- he made an album that made us feel good when it was nearly impossible to. To put it frankly- Fine Line was my comfort album, and I know that it was a lot of other people’s too. And as we step into the new year, with the help of this album, it does in fact feel like... we’ll be alright.
#harry styles#fine line#album review#fine line anniversary#golden#watermelon sugar#adore you#lights up#cherry#falling#to be so lonely#she#sunflower vol. 6#canyon moon#treat people with kindness#one year of fine line#music#music blog#pop music#rock music#solo harry
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The First Tree
I don't know how I keep getting myself into these emotional games, but The First Tree (@thefirsttree) destroyed me in the most beautiful way possible.
As always, if you're interested in experiencing this game for yourself, I do recommend it, but will be referencing some spoiler content. I normally try to avoid too many spoilers and I won't discuss the ending here, but there is of course some spoiler-y content here. Hit the heart button or double-tap to like (it's free!) and read on otherwise!
"The First Tree is a third-person indie exploration game by David Wehle centered around two parallel stories: a mother fox trying to find her missing family, and a son reconnecting with his estranged father in Alaska." You awake to the fox noticing her cubs missing and the narrator, Joseph, beginning to recall his dream (of the fox) to his significant other. This style of storytelling is consistent throughout the game and, more often than not, the climaxes intersect.
You can tell right away that no punches are going to pulled on your heartstrings right from the get-go as one of the cubs is found dead near their cave. *queue my heart already sinking* Other than them laying there and the mother fox leaning in to mourn their loss, there's no indication of death, so there's immediately a mystery to pursue but nothing too gruesome on screen. The majority of the gameplay will involve you running around as the fox uncovering patches of dirt with pieces of Joseph's past, as well as collecting mysterious balls of light that seemingly have no purpose other than to be collected. Let me tell you right away, they have purpose. You want the shiny balls of light and the reason why will be clear by the end of the game.
Each patch of dirt to be uncovering by the fox is highlighted by a column of light; however, they can be uncovered in any order during each chapter. This can lead to a couple of out-of-sync pieces of information Joseph gives us here and there, but overall nothing dramatically significant to the storyline. It's fascinating to find urban objects riddled throughout an otherwise very natural landscape and the more you uncover, the more you understand Joseph's past. One of my favorites was a school bus tucked away along a cliffside, but there are countless little things to find throughout every chapter.
Overall in regards to gameplay, controls are pretty simple as you primarily run and jump throughout the world, interacting with items and collectibles. Oddly enough, you toggle between either walking or running, vs holding a button down, which I appreciated! I think I've only seen this style of movement in a few games. Scenery-wise, the landscapes are beautiful and I really enjoyed just existing in this game. However, my biggest qualm about The First Tree was the lack of saving. You get an autosave at the beginning of each chapter and that's it, which unfortunately made me feel like I was rushing through a game that was tumultuous for me at times. I would have preferred to take my time on this one, but the lack of saving really guarantees the maximum number of sitdowns you have with the game if you don't want to keep starting chapters over.
One of my favorite aspects of any game is "how high can I climb in this?" The First Tree really delivers here. At times the fox's movements can feel a bit clunky or unpredictable in rocky terrain, but dedication and patience will reward you with some great views from high up! It did feel like there were some areas that you weren't necessarily encouraged to explore, but the developer certainly wasn't going to stop you. I always appreciate a good climb!
The soundtrack to The First Tree by Josh Kramer melds perfectly with David Wehle's world and story. I absolutely love the music behind this game and truly hope the LP gets a second pressing in the future. *fingers crossed* The first major climax of the game features a beautiful swelling ambiance in the background that swept me off my feet (or my couch for that matter).
Unfortunately, the Switch version of the game didn't feature the trophy content for some reason, but that does allow you to simply focus on exploration and story. I don't think The First Tree would have been as impacting and emotional for me if I was more focused on collectibles and achievements; however, without them, I'm less likely to do another playthrough.
With that in mind, The First Tree clocked in at around 2-3 hours for me, but that can vary for you wildly depending on how much exploration you partake in. There are a total of 6 chapters that are absolutely worth your time. Leading up to the ending, details about Joseph's present and past unwind and intertwine with the fox's story effortlessly. If you've ever experienced loss or heartfelt regret, this story is going to resonate with you. The ending of this game took my breath away. I was a mess. I've never encountered something like it before mechanically, and I think that's really the beauty of indie gaming.
If you're into heavy games with meaning, I highly recommend checking out The First Tree. Before downloading, I always check out reviews, trying to avoid spoilers, and I've come across a consistent negativity around stories with heavy emotions. A lot of folx out there have called out the narration in this game, as well as any emotional game I've played. I don't think you can open yourself up and create a game like this without some of the dialogue/etc sounding a bit off, forced, or cheesy to someone. I didnt feel that way in my playthrough at all, but I can see how some folx might. I think this is especially true for anyone that's never shared their traumas/etc through writing, therapy, or other forms of communication. There's a certain level of mutual emotional understanding or empathy you may need to resonate with heavy stories, focus on the experience vs gameplay, no matter what the specific content may be. In this case, I think the experience and gameplay melded together really well.
The First Tree is available to play on Nintendo Switch, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, mobile, and more! I can't imagine playing this on my phone to be honest though, as then I'd have been a mobile mess, haha.
Have you played The First Tree? Do you plan to now? I'd love to hear from you! Shoot me an ask or a message and we can talk about the game. 😄
Thanks so much for stopping by, and I'll see you next time.
- M. Magpie
#gaming#nintendo#art#nintendo switch#video games#videogames#gaming blog#game review#spoilers#the first tree#the first tree spoilers#david wehle#josh kramer#fox#foxes#emotional#storytelling#gamer#gaming reviews#games with magpie#gamerlife#switch games#heavy games#emotional games#mental health#trauma#loss#communication#emotions#all the feels
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tlou2 opinion
So I really had to share my opinion(rant) on the last of us part 2 and boy I have a lot to say. I am gonna dwell deep into this one, so bear with me if you can and want to
But before that I have to share the feelings I hold for tlou1.Back when I finished tlou1, I knew I experienced something truly magical. I was pleasantly surprised by the beautifully crafted story, the execution of the characters, the music, the gameplay , and the effort that went into shaping the journey of the game,the character arcs and bonds. You could see and experience the uniqueness and passion that went into the first project. This game immediately became a favourite of mine.
When tlou2 was announced, my expectations were skyhigh,was elated to continue Joel and Ellie's journey and how it unfolds. The bar set by the first one was exceptionally high and probably impossible to achieve, but I had trust and faith in naughty dog, thought they couldn't go wrong with this one. After experiencing tlou2 , I am speechless.... not in a good way. I have no words to express my disappointment,frustration and anger I feel right now. I don't even know where to begin.... the absolute mess of a plot, the original characters being blatantly ignored, retconned and disrespected in favour of new bland characters, the plotholes in the story, the false advertising and marketing, naughty dog's hubris, making a complete mockery of your fans who are paying money to play something but getting baited for something else. I am utterly heartbroken and angry.
The plot - the driving force of the game is over ambitious, lazy,sloppy and nihilistic. It felt forced. Naughty dog bit off more then they could chew with this one. Tlou2 could have gone several ways in terms of plot with the existing characters, yet we get the cliche revenge plotline with the character abandoning the quest altogether to realise revenge isn't the answer. This trope has been done several times before, with more finesse and better execution. The writers aim for the " Ellie breaks the cycle of the revenge" but it really fails to achieve this as she blatanly annihilates several characters,npcs along the way in quest of her revenge. The damage has been done practically speaking. According to naughty dog's logic , I should expect Nora's sister or a random npc's friend/relatives in tlou3 hunting down Ellie in their revenge quest. Also Abby's quest literally does nothing for me. This character was so poorly written, executed and shoved down our throats, I didn't have any sort of attachment or empathy for her. I simply don't care about this character.
The circumstances that lead to Joel's death was out of character as well. Since the trailer drop in 2016, I was prepared for his inevitable death. Thought he would probably go out like the badass he is, maybe sacrificing himself for Ellie/tommy. The Joel I know from tlou1, a hardened survivor who has fought tooth and nail to survive the past 20 years would NEVER end up in a situation like that. Joel was intensely alert, critical,clever and intuitive. The argument here may be that he has softened in Jackson, but I feel at this point this should be 2nd nature to him. Something that is automatic. Yet the writer's now want you to believe he is a dumbass who would trust a group of strangers, make small talk and introductions and end up in a situation like that. One of the bigger issues was the constant reinforcing that Joel wiped down the fireflies in cold blood and doomed humanity for death by robbing them of their cure for survival,Ellie believing the cure would have been a guaranteed sure shot success ..... WHY? This retcons the first one completely. The beauty of the tlou1 was it's moral ambiguity and uncertainty. We were constantly hinted that fireflies is a mess of a group whose agendas weren't clearly known, whose actions caused the sacrifice of many people for the sake of a slight possibility of a cure.They were power hungry and were cruel enough to send a 14 year old girl to her death with no remorse,consent or any proper investigation or medical research. Joel initially negotiates to find someone else, gets shut down immediately, gets his means of survival snatched and was practically marched to his death. He had no option but to wipe clean these people who planned on killing someone dear to him, for something that is uncertain or in vain. And yes this was a selfish decision on Joel's part, and that was the beauty of it. The moral ambiguity. He was right or wrong or both - open to your interpretation. BUT NOW NAUGHTY DOG WANTS TO TO ERASE ALL THAT DEVELOPMENT. The active reinforcement that Joel was a cold, ruthless murderer who killed fireflies and deprived humanity of its cure? Trying to erase the fact that he was surviving and trying to keep his dear ones safe in this cold, brutal and unforgiving postapocalyptic world. So that we sympathize with Abby and enjoy golfing the tf outa Joel?. Ellie seems like a different character in this one, but again this character is immediately pushed to a whirlwind of traumatic events right from the start of the game. I missed her spark of joy,humour and enthusiasm. The treatment of the main chatacter in her own game is utterly cruel and disappointing, and seemed unfair to me. By the end, Ellie is broken beyond repair. Though she thematically chooses to be the better person and gives up on her vengeance and hate, she still manages to be on the losing side as she ends up losing her father figure which was her closest bond, loses Dina and the kid , she doesn't have her community, her people, her fucking fingers as well. Why? So Ellie could suffer a little more and be unable to do most important thing that bonded her to Joel. Not to mention she loses her switchblade too, her mother's final memory. Surprised that ND spared her mother's letter . Feel her pain and despair. Why does Ellie get such a shitty,depressing, worthless, futile and a hopeless conclusion while Abby not only gets her revenge successfully, forms a close bond in Lev and gets to escape possibly to a fresh start. Ellie? Nah she gets to suffer alone. Her BIGGEST FEAR has become a reality by the end. The least they could do is let Ellie have some solace and calm, surrounded by her loved ones on that farm,her trying to recover from her trauma slowly but surely, it's what joel would have wished for. But no, she is left all alone, absolutely traumatized, all by herself with nothing to look forward to. Oh and tommy is whole new character in every scene. So keep your eyes peeled for various versions of tommy throughout. The character inconsistencies are ridiculous.
The gameplay, beautiful sceneries, and new characters like dina and jesse are few of the positives of game - leaning more towards Jesse. Dina felt perfect for Ellie and Jesse did manage to lighten up few of the moments. The space shuttle cutscene, the museum flashback sequence, ellie and joel's flashbacks were the only parts that remotely captures the magic and beauty of tlou1. I got emotional watching them. The space shuttle sequence hits you with the feels. Joel slaying a bloater with a machete was cinematic art. (Hot too)
Abby... the forced deuteragonist, is an utter failure of character execution. Her character was forced onto us, felt hasty and lacked real build up. She starts off on the wrong foot by killing one of the most popular characters. If ND really wanted this character to work, the only possible way would have been to play her point of view and backstory prior to her mercilessly killing and torturing a guy who just saved her life. What was ND thinking? That a few hours of her pov,forced out of the blue background story, her getting to play with dogs while ellie has no option but to attack the dogs, the abby-lev bond which is pretty much discount or the walmart version ellie and joel would be enough to side with her over ellie and joel???? The part where they force you to play as abby against ellie? It made me sick. I felt cheated and disgusted.
The false advertising to make us believe joel is alive and good? That this is an ellie and joel centric game?To tug at your heartstrings like this. A complete mockery of the fans who waited 7 years to see their favorite characters get horribly treated,retconned, disrespected and thrown under the bus in favour of new unlikable characters. Butchering the heart and soul of the last of us - Joel and Ellie's bond. The fact that these two don't even get a heart to heart before his death, that Joel dies uncertain of ellie's future, maybe thought he could not save Ellie in those final painful moments, that she had never forgiven him, Ellie never getting her closure with Joel, or really getting to tell him how much he meant to her.... all these thoughts legit made me shed tears. Broke my heart. This is how much ND wanted to honour and respect ellie and joel.
The game's conclusion is hollow, futile, worthless and depressing. And in my opinion, this is non canon. This is the only way I can cope with this unsastifying conclusion. It is immaturity I guess... but I will feel better about it.
Though I utterly despise tlou2, tlou1 will continue to remain one of my favorite pieces of work in fiction. JOEL FUCKING MILLER WILL ALWAYS BE THE BADDEST BITCH AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE THE LOVE I HAVE FOR HIM.
If someone actually read it all the way, thank you for your time and effort. Really needed to rant and let these negative emotions out.
#the last of us#the last of us part 2#tlou spoilers#tlou#tlou2#tlou joel#tlou ellie#my rants#ellie#joel miller#joel
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we ask for grayson to be the family/soft guy in almost every concept that’s not smut related, how about we get a little ethan fangboying over him and his gf future next 🥺
i fully believe that ethan IS a soft ass about his gf. totally head over heels, complimenting her all the time, giving her sweet kisses on the cheek, a peck on the lips whenever he passes by her in the house.
he would be less idk obvious about it than grayson i think? grayson would shout it from the rooftops and make sure every person across the globe knows that you are his GIRL. his BABY. his LOVE. ethan would be...subtle i believe. maybe not like he is now (because oh my fucking gosh i know it’s your life and you can live it how you want but don’t be so obvious you’re hiding things) because he’s not really used to anything idk being his? if you know what i mean. he’s always been attached to grayson in some way, everything was always a joint effort. his past relationships were always gossiped about without him really being the one to initiate the discussions. assumptions upon assumptions. he’s never had anything to cherish and truly be his and his alone.
but. with you....he would make sure that he plays all the right cards. lays it all out for everyone to see in a way that is so ethan.
pictures first, subtle hints - some videos of you dancing and singing along to high school musical karaoke and he’s holding your hand the whole time you sing to him. he let’s you post pictures of you doing his makeup all pretty on your story, braiding his hair, laying across his lap, putting a face mask on in his bathroom, brushing your teeth together. he lets you post the videos and pictures. let’s you show the world you love him just the same. let’s you be his baby.
but this time around, he doesn’t deny shit. not a thing. he doesn’t keep his mouth shut. no. he hearts the comments under the posts, responds to a few, makes all the mushy gushy captions his own. inserts you into conversation, into videos, etc.
he thinks of ways to surprise you randomly on his snapchat and insta story, whether it be coming home with a random bouquet of your favorite flowers, flying your mom/dad in from your hometown, a trip to your favorite place, getting you tickets to a play you’ve been wanting to see, getting matching shirts because you always steal his and he wants to take sappy couples photos.
he makes memories that belong to him. that belong to the both of you. ones that he can keep. he doesn’t let the internet control what the fuck he does, manipulate what he says, assume things about you, about him, about the love blossoming between you. because he tells it how it is.
he loves you, and for once he isn’t afraid to show it. you’re not a secret. not you. not with your smile - oh it’s so bright. it played at his heartstrings for days the first time he landed eyes on you. had him daydreaming like a fucking middle schooler. your laugh, the most cheerful sound he’s ever heard. your hair that always smelt like a mix of vanilla and strawberries. your unique style of clothing that first caught his eye, you come to find he has a high interest in fashion.
he’s not afraid to show you off in his own special way. no he wouldn’t blast love songs outside your window in the middle of the night like grayson probably would. but he would for sure throw pebbles like a prince in his own way. ethan would not hold back. i promsie he wouldn’t. he’s more guarded with his own but he sure knows how to use it ❤️
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Little Tinkerbell ~ Yin Zhi x Reader
Little maiden, what are you doing? Should you really waste your time in the library, studying, when outside is sunny and you could be playing with the princes and princesses?
Little maiden, what are you doing? Should you really be tinkering with weird widgets, when you could be learning how to apply make up?
Little maiden, what are you doing? Should you really be going riding through the forest, when you could be going shopping for fashionable clothes and accessories?
He heard all the rumours, all the gossips, all the bad words...He saw all the judging eyes of all the close-minded and inapt people...He saw everything...And yet, Yin Zhi couldn't understand how come this little mockingjay would rather study and be by herself, despite all the reprimanding she gets, when she could solve it all by obeying, like all women do?
Why was she so stubborn? Why did she insist on doing literally everything that he was also interested in, and yet, he wasn't reprimanded, just because he was a man, and more, the Emperor's son?
A man...Well, he's not a man yet, he's barely 12 years old, and yet, this girl keeps bugging his mind.
It all started when he went to the library one day, and his way was through the garden, and there she was, a little maiden, her beautiful hair flying messily into the air, as she was hunched over a stone tabled, doing something, clearly focused enough to draw out anything outside of her area of work. She didn't even hear him approach, not even sitting in front of her, until he strategically stepped into her light, and she got too confused at the sudden darkness, until she looked up and realised who was eclipsing her.
"You...You are the 3rd Prince, aren't you? Yin Zhi, was it? What are you doing here?" she asked, her hands hanging awkwardly, still holding the delicate screws and gears from the machinery. "Great, you know who I am. Should I be asking you the same now, for the sake of common courtesies? Or will you finally answer my question?" he asked impatiently, thinking he'd intimidate the girl...But she didn't sketch any of that. "A travelling merchant from the West came by recently, and I bought some musical boxes. They make beautiful music, and this rotating doll has interesting clothes. I wanted to take everything apart, learn how the engine works, how each and every little piece keeps the synergy going, and then attempt to recreate something similar, or maybe even better. Who knows." she shrugged, going back to her tinkering. "Don't tell me you actually understand what you're doing." he scoffed, and yet, leaned forward to pay attention to her dexterous fingers. "I do...But, do you?" she smirked, provoking him. "Are you mocking me?!" the prince scoffed, shocked at her impertinence. "It's mocking only if you get offended. If not, you can shut up, listen, and understand." there was no malice or harshness in her words, and the prince realised that there was an unexpected maturity and wisdom about her, that seemed to calm him...Or tame him. "Fine, then. If you're so sure of yourself, then show me how you'd repair this music box to its original state." he challenged her, which oddly enough, made he grin brightly at him. "No problem!" she started humming a melody, which he guesses might be the one from the music box, and with an outstanding ingenuity, she played around with those tiny tools and even tinier gear pieces, using a magnifying glass to see better, and there it was, in its dull glory, a dancing doll and a pretty song. "Not bad...For someone like you. I must confess, I never expected a girl to be interested in machinery or studying like you are. I am...Impressed." he was just a child back then, still reckless and easily wearing his emotions on his sleeve, as he blushed...She quickly became his childhood crush, clearly. "Thank you, Yin Zhi! Nobody ever said anything nice about my...Out of the ordinary interests, so...Thank you." she gave him a sweet smile, before taking the music box, ready to leave. "It's getting late, I must go home and continue my studying. I hope to see you again soon, Prince." she gave him an innocent kiss on his cheek, waving goodbye, before leaving the place, her beautiful, flowy, pink dress flying behind her.
Since then, this little maiden was the only one that he accepted to study with, to learn with and to learn from, or listen to...And also, she was the only one who could get him to sneak out of the Palace to go on the top of the hill to watch the stars, identify constellations, to watch the fireflies, and she was the only one he enjoyed riding with.
She wasn't like all those princesses and ladies who'd rather waste her time doing needlework and baking cakes... Although he couldn't deny that her osmanthus cakes were amazing, the tea she was brewing was incredibly aromatic, and the costumes she was creating were making even the Western tailors jealous.
However, he couldn't pin point whether she was she was really as great as she was making her out to be, or simply, that's how he was seeing her. That's weird, since he prides himself for being level-headed, rational and also, for seeing things exactly as they are, not veiled by the charms of emotions and...And that other forbidden word he canNOT allow himself to say, not out loud, nor to himself.
But years passed, and not even him, Yin Zhi, the 3rd Prince, was safe from the feminine charms, and Y/N was becoming more beautiful with each day passing.
As time went by, he always felt the need to invite her, under different pretexts, to hang out with him, mostly for the sole reason that he truly enjoys her company. She never speaks more than she has to, and when she does, her words are meaningful and leave a lingering feeling that tugs at his heartstrings, making him want to hear more of her voice.
Even his mother, Consort Qin, was feeling infinitely better whenever she would visit her, and it almost felt like a healing, bright aura, something incredibly refreshing, like the cold mint freeze, that was making her feel so great. She was a mother, clearly, she was well aware of her son’s feelings for this little maiden, and she was happy that her only child, that she loved so much, and in turn, cared so much for her, was able to find such a kind and brilliant woman to be by his side and match his wits and intellect just as he always dreamt of.
So one night, on one of the many occasions that they spent together, they found themselves riding through the forest, and arrived at a gorgeous waterfall, continued by a blue lagoon, surrounded by numerous flowers of variate, vibrant colours, tons of butterflies and choruses of birds singing like angels.
“I don’t know how we got here, but this looks like a true paradise. Wouldn’t it be so much more peaceful if we were to live closer to nature, and farther away from noisy people?” Y/N asked, yet her question wasn’t exactly addressed, as she took of her shoes and lifting up the hem of her long dress, she went to the shallow part of the lagoon, jumping on the stones to get closer to the waterfall. “I can’t deny that would be the ideal scenario...Although, I wouldn’t advise you to stay too long in the freezing water, or too close to the waterfall. You will get soaked and sick.” he shook his head, sitting on one of the big rocks guarding the lagoon. “Don’t tell me...Yin Zhi, have you never bathed into a lake? Or a spring? Or under a waterfall?” she giggled, teasing him, as she gracefully skipped next to him, taking off his hat, putting it on his horse, and then going behind him to braid his hair. “Did I give you permission to touch my hair? Do you want me to kill you that badly?” he let his head down so he could look at her, and despite his words, he bore no ill will. “If you kill me, who’s going to read with you, or help you with machinery?” she chuckled, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. “Besides, you know I can’t resist your hair. It’s the most beautiful and soft in the whole kingdom.” her smile was so playful and gentle that it seemed to relax him immediately. “I don’t need your help in repairing machinery, nor do I need the distraction you offer while reading. And, to reply to the other affirmation, I’m a Prince, after all. We get lucky since birth.” he smirked gracefully, making the girl hum, as she was pondering. “Well...Should I tell you a secret? Yeah, sure, I always tell you all the secret I know anyway. The only other princes with nice hair are Yin Zhen and the 14th prince, and not even they can compare with yours. I mean...Have you seen the Crown Prince? Or the 5th prince? It’s like they don’t care at all! It looks so...Course and greasy! I wouldn’t dare get my finger anywhere close to that!” she started laughing, faking a shudder, as she finished the braid. “Good, because if you did, I’d have cut your fingers off. Good luck touching my hair without fingers.” he grumbled, almost as if jealous. “Awww, but then, who’d braid your hair? You know you like it when I play with your hair, so don’t play the tough facade with me. Besides...I’m pretty sure you’re going to kill me regardless of what I do, so...” with a low giggle, she pushed herself into his back, sending both of them into the lagoon, shocking the poor prince who wasn’t expecting that. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” he yelled at her, glaring, as soon as he resurfaced to get some air. “YES!” she laughed so carefree, all that hair playing as a curtain draped all over her face. “Oh, spare me.” he scoffed, putting his hand on her head and pushing her underwater, long enough to get his revenge, but not long enough that she might have discomfort. “Okay, but you have to admit, it was pretty fun! It’s always nice trying out new things, isn’t it?” she laughed, struggling to throw away all that hair from her face. “You, dummy...Get here, I’ll help.” he couldn’t help but show a half smile at the girl since, despite all the silliness and complete lack of mannerism, she always managed to warm his heart more and more. “Thank you. Perhaps I should have braided my hair too before, but, oh well, guess now I can look like one of those vengeful ghosts from the stories our mums would tell us to keep us behaving.” she grinned, letting her hair down to allow the man behind her to braid her hair properly. “Speaking of stories...I once heard one from my mother, and I almost think she was talking about you, especially as I met you when we were young...And you were so small compared to me, even then.” he teased her, making her widen her eyes in intrigue. “Ohh, tell me, tell me!” she turned around, hugging her legs and resting her chin on her knees, waiting for the story patiently...Or not so, rather. “It’s not much to say...It’s about a little fairy who was struggling to find out what her defining talent. Some had the power to make flowers bloom in a matter of seconds, others could speak to animals, other could bend water, storms or light to their will...And yet, this little fairy that everyone found so odd, couldn’t find her defining talent among all the other girls she knew. Do you want to know why?” he never admitted that, no matter how many times the girl told him, but he had the gift of story-telling and keeping the listener gripped completely. “Yes, tell me!” his heart was melting seeing her almost childlike enthusiasm and fascination on her face that simply his words could create. “She was special, that’s why. Special, even among her peers. Because she was incredibly inventive and handy, so she was sent to the tinkers to create intricate machinery that would aid all the other fairies on their jobs of keeping nature balanced and properly taken care of. And because her dress resembled a bell flower, she was given the name of...Tinkerbell.” he explained the story, which made her jolt to her feet in a second, running to the bed of flowers. “So, you’re saying I’m Tinkerbell, aren’t you? Then, I have to create a proper outfit for my talent! What do you say which flower should I take inspiration from?” she crouched down in front of the flowers, only to hear a scoff from the man. “You won’t find the one there, silly woman...But here.” he leaned to snatch a pink lotus flower from the lagoon, making his way in front of her, and carefully putting in her hair. “Because a lotus is unique. It’s the true symbol of a woman’s noble and pure personality. It represents the ability to remain pure and become enlightened, even through hardships...And I believe that suits you best.” he muttered the end, feeling shy, yet not turning his head away. “You always know what to say, don’t you? You’re so smart and cool...I bet if you were a fairy, you’d have been the king of them all, for you’d have all the talents the others have.” she chuckled softly, leaning her head down just slightly, feeling bashful, her cheeks resembling just a tiny bit the shade of the flower she now so proudly represented. “And you’d be the queen of the empire.” the ghost of a smirk appeared on his face as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.
But things can’t always remain as ethereal as they are all the time, and he wasn't blind to the Crown Prince trying woo her, or at least gain her as an ally, as he realised her worth, intellect and shrewdness, and nor was he ignorant to how those obnoxious 5th, 7th and 11th princes were constantly on her tail. They don't deserve to be in her presence! They never appreciated her when she was a child, why should they now? But he was ar least relieved with the fact that he knew she has always been a smart girl and wouldn't fall in their web of lies.
That is...Until he started seeing less and less of her around he library, and more of her around the Princes and the Empress...Mainly the Crown Prince. But he could see she was beginning to lose her light, her glamour, her spark...There was something wrong, and he was worrying about her.
How pathetic of him.
Why does he even feel like that? Is that normal?
Sure, it can be normal for those mundane plebs, but not to him! He had to find a way to talk to her, since clearly, she was afraid of something.
Could she be...Blackmailed...?
One day, he found her in the tea house, so he stole the key and bribing the matron there, he prowled in and locked them inside, staring at her with his piercing eyes, watching her prepare a chrysanthemum tea.
"I've never seen you so happy to make tea for everyone who asked you." he pointed out in his usual, cold manner. "...! 3rd Prince, I didn't see you walking in!" she gasped, almost letting the teapot fall from her hands. "Of course you didn't see me. You were much too absorbed in your own mind to see me. I wonder what is troubling you so these days, Y/N." he crossed his arms, analysing her unusual spazzic behaviour. "Oh, u-uhm...Nothing too out of the ordinary. Now, please, if you'd excuse me, I must serve Her Majesty, the Empress, and the Crown Prince with tea." she sighed, hanging her head, hoping he wouldn't see her dejected expression. "You've never been the best at lying or concealing your emotions. Now, tell me the truth. I've known you for years, you can't deceive me." his voice was sharper now, hoping the extra pressure would crack her.
And it did. "I hate them...I hate them so much...I want to run away, but they are threatening me, and I can't find a way out. The Empress and that...That...That brat of hers are trying to marry me off to one of those horrible and uneducated rats that call themselves Princes...And I don't know what to do!" she slammed the tea tray on the table, and it was clear that she didn't crack - She outright shattered, just like those cups and teapots she placed so gingerly, just a few seconds prior. "So, that's it? They are threatening to marry you if you don't obey, and instead of coming to me for help, you dig a hole and hide in it. I thought you were smarter than that." he sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I couldn't possibly get you involved in this mess. You're already on hot waters for being the next best contestant to being an Emperor, along with Yin Zhen, and the Crown Prince hates you. The Emperor wants you to compete as well. If you get involved, it may throw your peaceful life into a complete chaos." she looked away, hanging her head in disappointment. "So you were trying to be considerate with me, I understand. Next time, I'd suggest the smarter approach, which would be communication. I can easily solve all your problems with just a two words." his voice softened, as he chuckled at her reaction. "Two words...? What do you mean...?" she looked up at him, confusion obviously plastered on her face. "Marry me." those words were so simple, so easy to say out loud, and yet, it brought complete turmoil and shock in both of them. "Wh-What ?! I-I- ...Y-You-...?! Wha-...?! B-But...?! Y-You have t-to l-love the person you're marrying, w-we can't just....S-So sudden..." she kept stuttering and rambling, her cheeks as red as his were long ago, when she kissed his cheek. "I see no problem, then." with a mischievous smirk on his face, he stepped forward, kissing her cheek, making her freeze on the spot. "...?! Y-You...You really...?! Since when? Why didn't you say anything sooner?!" her bottom lip quivered softly, frowning at him accusatory. "A long time ago. We were doing fine the way we were before, I didn't see why we should mess with perfection. But others stomped on it, and made you upset, so I have to solve this. And what better way to have you happy, by my side, then to be my bride? Nobody would dare come between us, that much, I can assure you." he explained with clear confidence, knowing very well that she melted, realising her feelings were reciprocated. "...I love you." she threw her arms around him without any warning, which he wasn't surprised by in the least, as she'd always surprise him with kisses, hugs, pinches and little gifts. "...And I love you, Tinkerbell." he muttered, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head.
As soon as the 3rd Prince went to his father, while he was alone, for his blessings, he received what he wished for. The look of absolute dread and hatred on the faces of the Empress, the Crown prince, and the 5th, 7th and 11th princes, who realised they lost their potential bride and spy to the one everyone least expected to get married.
The 3rd Prince was, by far, the one with the most tricks up his sleeves, and that will never change.
#legend of the phoenix x reader#legend of the phoenix headcanons#legend of the phoenix#legend of the phoenix imagine#yin zhi#yin zhen#3rd prince#4th prince#crown prince#emperor#empress#5th prince#7th prince#14th prince#11th prince
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