#this song is so relatable in the worst way
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now in this twilight, how dare you speak of grace?
#coley listens#mumford and sons#marcus mumford#broken crown#babel#the other lyric i considered was#and i will not speak of your sins#this song is so relatable in the worst way#and i am obsessed#music#spotify
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life's hard when you're soft you've got our love
#ts4#sims 4#the sims 4#s4#simblr#ts4 simblr#i love this song so much but i can't stop relating it to theo and his mom and it's making me ill#this picture very eerily resembles the 'inbred' cover do you see it.. i think it's the dead stares into the camera#anyways if i was taking family pictures of everyone else you know i had to include these fuckers too. sigh#not berating the kids of course. my babies i love them. notice how the one smiling is literally the worst person there..#that one elliott smith lyric that's like 'i wanna hurt him i wanna give him pain' yeah that's me right now to sarah#there is something gravely wrong with the hadley bloodline. let me post a family tree cause hadley and hadley-coy are different.. kind of..#oh god these tags make it seem like i'm alluding to.. yk.. for clarification I'M NOT!!! they're fucked up in a different way#oc: theodore#oc: alice#oc: benjamin#oc: peter#oc: sarah#equi/cholia: screenies
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y'all'll never 🙅♀️ understand "the prophecy" by ts the way i, an aspec person, do 😔😔
#this is a joke of course#i just relate to it as an aroace (?) person who deep down craves the ability to love someone romantically and sexually and not feel so alon#that's something that a lot of times comes w being aspec and no one really talks about it#it's usually included when we mention how amatanormativity fucks up aro/acespec folks but i don't mean in the internalized aphobia way#i truly do feel alone and othered compared to my peers in this stage of life#and then she hit me w the#PLEASE I'VE BEEN ON MY KNEES CHANGE THE PROPHECY DON'T WANT MONEY JUST SOMEONE WHO WANTS MY COMPANY LET IT ONCE-#BE ME WHO DO I HAVE TO SPEAK TO ABOUT IF THEY CAN RE-DO THE PROPHECY#the prophecy being of course my aromanticism and asexuality#bc i for the better or worst cannot change who i am#also “NO SIGN OF SOULMATES” like it's not enough to listen at full volume i need taylor swift to shoot me in the chest#the prophecy#taylor swift#ttpd#ttpd the anthology#the tortured poets department#lgbt#aroace#i know it's likely meant in a different way more like yearning but songs are songs and songs are to be interpretted#she herself touches on that in ttpd in “the manuscript” w “the story isn't mine anymore”#she is putting out a project and the moment it comes out it's not just about the exact things she wrote about or what she felt#it's about what the listener feels and sees in the art#fun fact my phone keyboard doesn't recognize the proper word for being aromantic in my native language (pt portuguese)
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I always forget just how many love songs I have in my playlist until I’m having an ultra-love-repulsed day and have to try my best to contain my breakdown until I get home
#21 out of 61 songs are related to love in some way#and it always feels like my playlist is trying to give me as many in a row as it can#must’ve gotten like 5 one after the other while walking home today#it’s too much of a hassle to keep taking my phone out of my backpack to switch songs so I just grit my teeth and bear it#and I know my playlist literally can’t read my mood. it’s not sentient. it’s a program#but when I’m so strung out it really does feel like it’s doing it on purpose#and hearing those songs makes everything so much worse#days like these I cannot stand any mention of love or romance or sex or anything else of the sort#I can’t read or think about it without feeling awful#can’t draw can’t write can’t watch shows. nothing#worst thing is I never know when I’ll be having a day like this so I can’t prepare by isolating myself or anything#like preparing a separate playlist with no love songs#bc the only way to find out is to get triggered#which… isn’t something I particularly like doing. at all#and I can’t even indulge in my latest interests because guess fucking what it centres around#ughhhhhhhhh. why couldn’t I have just stayed bi and not have to deal with any of this
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so like maybe white people don’t think i’m pretty beyond a fetish but at least i can listen to cree round dance songs and feel like the prettiest girl to ever exist
#louise.ndn#yeah it’s men singing about native women. but they think we’re pretty :3#UGH young spirit is so good. just found them and i loveeeeee their songs now#red rock woman makes me so happy and feel so pretty#falling for you :3#it’s the way you move and the little things you do//i can’t deny i’m falling for you#you been on my mind since i seen those pretty eyes//on that beautiful round dance night#ITS SO NATIVE#something about knowing that they’re talking about a native woman just makes me so happy. they mean beautiful brown eyes#and the way she moves during a round fance (can’t relate bc i’m the worlds worst round dancer)#and red skin girl by northern cree#beautiful smile/beautiful eyes/that’s a red skin girl/she’s so pretty/she’s so fine/red skin girl/i’ll love you all the time#IM A RED SKIN GIRL AND IM PRETTY ARGHFKGGG
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me realizing that i have been ruined for the rest of my life now i will never be able to be in any situation were the songs riptide or formation are playing without it awakening a media studies sleeper agent within me
#like cannnot listen to those songs without immediately thinking abt the music videos and like. media language and representation theories#and that ability stops being useful in like. less than a week lmao !!!#although the even worse thing abt riptide is that my sibling became a rly big fan of the song around when we saw toy story 4#(<- my worst enemy bad sequel alert !! but not thee current point) and they like. pointed out the lyrics#“this cowboys been running from himself/and shes been living on the highest shelf” in like. relation to woody and bo peep respectivly#and i still fucking think of that when i hear that line. SO THANKS A LOT I DONT EVEN LIKE THE MOVIEE OMGG !!#alos um um for those lines in the music video postmodernism we literally see a cowboy running from himself#and hes been living on the highest self we see a view of a woman on a balcony that appears to be from the presepctive#someone watching her from some bushes smth smth objectification male gaze SEE I KNOW MY STUFF !!!#obviously going to say more than smth smth in my exam btw just cirrenly way to latee to bother for a tumblt post#anyway. someone shld do a poll abt how many people here have studied media studies i tihnk it wld b interesting#both bc of tumblrs bad media literally rep and bc of how much of tumblr is fandom and how much of that is media analysis#(not a huge amnt BUT STILL YKK. ITS PART OF IT !!!)#flappy rambles
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I was supposed to just post about the Lamb Chop dog toy and move on but of course I forgot to do it. And I'm not too big on the one for today either but it's more a personal issue than anything. I'm not letting it get to me too bad because the song I had for yesterday is close to how I feel in its emotions if not actually relevant to the situation.
youtube
#frustration evokes a specific emotion that i relate to heavily#it's one of the songs by soft cell i like the most#i also would love to set a bad bad example#anyway the reason i dont care for today's image is bc of ms wade from when i was little#she was my teacher and actually got married but she ruined my life so i don't recognize it#you know how at the end of it's a wonderful life where George says he wishes he wasn't born and he gets to see how much of a seedy shithole#his competitor would turn the town into and that everyone there owes their happiness and livelyhood to him#his brother drowned the pharmacist was convicted of murder his mother ran a boarding home his wife never married and so on#well i live in a sort of reverse of that ms wade was born and hates kids so now i live in Pottersville instead of Bedford Falls#i always hated those who said they hate children and I was never certain why but now I do#ms wade brought my ma in to scream at her bc i kept moving my hair off my forehead bc it bothered me#ive seen that evil before i can't trust you anymore when you say that I know you're a demon#anyway that's how I got my diagnoses#three then another the year after idr when anger management was addressed but i blame her for that one too#the first three weren't her fault but it was the worst way to discover it#year of the david olenick calendar#Youtube
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if when I see the crane wives they play ribs I think I will just start hysterically sobbing right there
#listen i know nobody is sapphic as hell#even if it is relatable in the worst possible way#at least to me#but im sorry how was my gay ass supposed to hear#“marrow made a wife of eve but no one gave up a rib for me and mine”#“and my heart stayed exposed to the elements/calloused and untouched by a man's design”#and NOT latch onto it lmao#if i had to get any song lyrics tattooed on me/if i was going to it would have to be something from ribs#or a hozier lyric probably but theres so many good ones
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VEDIC ASTROLOGY NOTES ♡
(Can apply to any planet placement)
⚡️Ashwini women always stand out to me with their creativity especially in acting , they rly know to embody the character they're playing to the fullest even irl it may be easier for them to shift thro different identities or alter-egos just for funsies
⚡️There's smtg about purva phalguni women , they're gorgeous but for some reason I noticed they get hate esp from other women like they're called fake or pick-mes or they make up stories hmm
⚡️Purva ashadha women are so inspiring like they're always the ones to be teaching or preaching or saying smtg inspiring/motivational. They're beauties with soul and a mind of their own ! If u know a purva ashadha better take notes 📝
⚡️Magha women love wearing black and something about their looks or style is unconventional/gothy, it suits them
⚡️Uttara-phalguni women are so headstrong bruh and they have this leadership aura about them, they're gonna do what THEY think is right. Like other sun-ruled nakshatras they easily get attention
⚡️Mrigashira women love the push & pull , cat &mouse game, they either attract this dynamic or they create it themselves. There's also smth about Mrigashira and obsession 👀
⚡️Jyestha women embody the wild feminine archetype imo, when evolved theyre truly empowered and have this idgaf energy. people may be threatened by their power or skills. Their voice or the way the speak is commanding and naturally charismatic
⚡️Swati/ardra and their eyes 👁👁 most captivating eyes imo I'm in luv
⚡️Purva bhadrapada women seem to attract or be drawn to men with dark nature or men who carry trauma ? Or they know how to bring that out in a man
⚡️Dhanishta women love dancing and they appear to be friendly or have many acquaintances but very little people they relate to. Popular girlies
⚡️Rohini women feminine energy is undeniable , something about them feels innocent yet erotic. They just give off this juicy fertile vibee lmao💦 unlike jyestha which is more dry (not in a bad way its just different 💀)
⚡️Anuradha women are secretive as hell even if they tell u shit don't think u have them all figured out. there's so much to unpack with them , they're generally intriguing complex characters
⚡️Most bratty nakshatras are mrigashira and chitra lmao
⚡️Revati women are pretty privilege girlies also they're master manipulators 👀 they know how to use their femininity to get what they want
⚡️Pushya women have big MOMMY energy. they seem/look mature. They're either the ones taking care of others or others take care of them
⚡️Uttara bhadrapada women have dualistic nature they're either the sweetest ppl u know or ur worst nightmare depending on who theyre dealing with 💀they're like a mirror projecting and reflecting back ur inner self back at ya (Pisces energy) also don't forget the karmic saturn influence.. u don't wanna mess w them or any other saturn ruled woman
⚡️Viahaka women go through intense ups and downs , starting from their good girl phase then they snap and go wild then they mature/become spiritual
⚡️Chitra women secretly (or not so secretly) enjoy drama , they're either the ones caught up in it or they play the role of the "judge" where they can solve conflicts between others. Somehow they're surrounded by it.
⚡️Don't underestimate krittika women especially when it comes to survival 💀 these women can be dangerous and will stab a bitch if they rly had to (whether its for defending loved ones or them surviving) their symbol is 🔪 after all and taurus/aries gives them that survival instinct
⚡️Ardra women can make great poets/song writers , their creativity and inspiration stems from their own 'tragic' experiences
⚡️Punarvasu women remind me of that quote "home is where the heart is" they always end up coming back to their origins and what they feel in their heart
Lemme know ur thoughts & what I should make next
#vedic astro notes#vedic astrology#vedic astro observations#nakshatra notes#nakshatras#chitra#ashlesha#revati#ashwini#magha#jyestha#anuradha#rohini#bharani#vishaka#krittika#purva phalguni#purva bhadrapada#purva ashadha#ardra#rahu#ketu#hasta#mula#mrigashira#dhanishta#shatabhisha#jyotish#punarvasu#astrology notes
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₊˚⊹。 i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu
wc: 2.4k
summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love.
contains: f!reader, use of ‘misus’, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks he’s going to have a heart attack but it’s just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in love
a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumu’s feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)
part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)
Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up.
Wood isn’t supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it.
Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?
Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys.
This wouldn’t be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the time—for lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs he’s sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesn’t like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all).
So, kneeling isn’t really that big of a deal for Atsumu—
—but you’re there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes.
This is wrong. It isn’t at all what you’re thinking—he was just looking for his keys.
“‘Tsum…” you choke out, mouth partially covered by your shaky hand.
Fuck, if this isn’t the worst way he could possibly do this.
He’s sure his eyes are wide, brows furrowed by a mixture of worry and regret.
“Wait,” he holds two hands up, slowly coming to a stand, “S’not what ya think.”
This is seriously the dumbest way he could fuck this up.
The expression on your face drops, warmth rushing to your cheeks. If Atsumu could describe how you look, he’d call it worse than heartbreak—the horror in your eyes flashing embarrassment and the creases between your brows screaming rejection; what once were lifted cheeks have now sunk, turning into an undeniable frown.
There are tears threatening to spill from your lash line, for a different reason now, he thinks, and it’s all his fault—it makes his heart break that he’s the sole culprit.
And the sick thing is, despite all this, he still finds you the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, backlit by a halo of fluorescent white that he’s tempted to drop everything he originally planned just to do it right now.
“O-oh,” you mumble, “sorry, I just thought–” you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, “nevermind, that was stupid of me, Tsum.”
When you open your eyes, a single tear falls, and he tries not to comment on how you wipe it quickly, feigning a smile as you walk past him, mumbling something about making breakfast and preparing his lunch for when he heads out.
And, well, he feels shitty, that’s for sure. One, for making you cry, and two, for even making you think, just for a second, that he doesn’t want to marry you.
It wasn’t stupid of you to assume he was proposing at all. He’s hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you ‘the misus’ enough times when mentioning why he’s heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamu’s given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but it’s the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger).
He likes coming home to you, likes that you don’t force him to do anything. That if he chooses to stay out, it’s all fine by you—he’s just stopped looking for that kind of life anymore; it’s a lot more fun getting to cuddle up on the couch with you.
His legs still tingle, and he crouches down again with a big sigh. The silver key is there, glistening from the light directed from his phone, and he reaches to grab it, fishing for the metal that, if he’s being quite honest, hasn’t fully served its purpose in the past three years anyway.
Four years together, and Atsumu has lived with you for most of them. The only reason you still have separate places by name is because of the apartment he owns in Osaka, meant for training season and game days.
Other than that, home has always been your place.
And lately, he’s been thinking of moving somewhere where home can now officially be both of yours—it’s the whole reason he was looking for his keys in the first place, with property managers and realtors coming in to assess the space.
The new place—he’s hoping for it to be somewhere in the middle of both you and him, maybe a bit bigger, who knows? He was planning to ask you about it after the proposal—the one he’s planned and has been trying so hard to keep a secret from you.
It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep it this hush so far. He’s got the ring, the venue, the speech, and has even asked Osamu to take the video (even though he knows he’ll never let him live down every jitter and stutter he’s bound to make). And the date, the oh-so-important Valentine’s day that you’ll both remember forever.
The living room is awfully quiet when he steps into it, no sign of you and your usual humming to whatever song’s been stuck in your head. He walks to the kitchen counter, eyeing a plate of eggs with a bit of fried rice; you packed his lunch, just like you always have—fatty tuna with some rice and vegetables on the side.
Atsumu thinks he could cry, his upper lip already trembling as he stares at the piece of paper in front of him.
Written in your delicate handwriting is a short note: ‘grabbing some grocery, be back later.’ signed with nothing—no ‘love you’, no ‘see you later’, no x’s and o’s. Just nothing. It sucks even more because the grocery is your place, your one escape when he’s upset you enough that you can’t even look at him.
Yet, you still made him breakfast, and you still packed his lunch—that’s the only thing giving him hope that he hasn’t fully fucked this up.
.
“Samu, I think am g’na die.”
The scenery beside him whizzes past quickly, creating a blur of blue, green, and white. His head leans against the window, and he adjusts an earbud, increasing the volume to hear the call better.
Osamu sighs on the other end, the sound of clinking pans and crinkling plastic muffled in the background.
“Y’said that t’Ma the last time, what’s it now?”
Atsumu groans, the memory still fresh in his mind; when he called his Ma a little over three years ago, he was a stuttering mess, breath unsteady and voice shaky at 1:00 a.m. The pounding in his chest would not stop, he thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack.
His Ma diagnosed him all right, called it a serious case of ‘in love with you’—because, when he recounted everything he could have done to cause any potential uptick of his heart rate, all he could talk about was you. How you held his hand and laughed at his jokes, called him handsome even when he was sweaty and gross; how you nursed him to health even though he was probably stinky and dehydrated from an insane diarrhea episode.
All these years later, and he’s even more in love with you.
“I fucked it up, ‘Samu. The plan ‘n everythin’? Poof.” he gestures with his hands, even though he knows audio call doesn’t allow him to be seen. “Dunnow if there’ll even be ‘nyone t’propose to.”
Then, he tells Osamu everything—the search for his keys, kneeling on the floor, the mistaken proposal but how he would have done it there, how he wanted to but didn’t because he actually managed to plan something and didn’t want to throw it away.
But then he said it all wrong, then you cried, and he really did mess it up; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye. He’s miss-called you thrice and you’ve only replied with ‘can’t talk right now.’ (which he knows is suggested text because you always say ‘later, baby.’ or something else more time-efficient).
“Ya dumbass,” Osamu sighs again, words still sharp but tone a bit more rounded, “just give it time, ‘n stop catastrophizin’. Y’ve put y’self in stupider situations ‘n hav always made it somehow.”
Atsumu feels like crying, again, but Osamu’s always right. He lets out a tear or two, maybe a sob for another five minutes, and when he recovers into small sniffles, Osamu tells him to get some sleep to clear his head—he’s holding the line in Onigiri Miya during peak time.
.
His Osaka apartment feels even emptier than usual even though it shouldn’t be all that different. Meetings with realtors and property managers finished an hour ago and all they need is the go signal from him before they put the property up for lease.
He was supposed to stay here until the end of the week, to meet with PR for sponsorship deals and brand campaigns throughout the year. But, the only (non-suggested) text he received from you today was an indication that you were home and heading in early for bed (which, he knows is a lie, because a new episode of your favorite show is airing tonight and there’s no way you’re missing it after last week’s cliffhanger).
And he can’t, just can’t, leave you thinking that he doesn’t want to marry you.
So he decides, fuck it, and packs it up—books a last minute train ticket back to you and hopes to god that he gets the words right this time.
.
He’s never been this nervous in his life.
The olympics is a close runner-up, but nothing compares to this, standing outside your door with his finger hovering over the doorbell. It’s funny, because he has your keys, knows your passcode too—but it feels wrong entering your space without the assurance that you still want him to.
What makes him ring the bell is the sickening twist in his stomach that warns him: this fuck-up could make him lose you.
So he presses it once, then twice for good measure, and before he can do it thrice, you’re opening the door, in sweatpants and a hoodie (his hoodie) as you rub the puffiness out of your eyes.
You’re beautiful like this, too, he thinks—dressed in his clothes, staring at him with those eyes, standing in front of him and looking like the rest of his life.
“Please don’t break up wit’ me.”
The words stumble out of him freely, with barely any time for him to process it. Atsumu feels each pounding in his chest and knows now, just as his Ma said, that it’s all the love he has yet to let out.
“I–” he begins, hesitating. He’s still wearing the same joggers and bomber jacket from this morning.
His hands clench into fists and he pushes them in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; the bottom of his lip trembles and it’s starting to make sense why people tell him and Osamu apart by ‘the one who always cries’.
“T-this mornin’,” he looks up to find you leaning against your door, listening, “Was lookin’ ‘round cos I left mah keys on y’r bedroom floor.”
You nod, tilting your head to urge him on.
“And I was kneelin’,” he breathes out, “and y’thought it was somethin’ else, but I said it wasn’t. And I shouldn’t ‘av ‘cos it came out all wrong and it wasn’t what I planned. Then ya cried but still made me breakfast ‘n lunch and it was good, just like everythin’ ya make is. But ya went to the grocery, and baby,” he chokes up, tears falling, “‘m sorry. S’not what I meant. Please don’t break up wit’ me.”
Atsumu is a bumbling, stumbling, stuttering mess as he cries in front of you, his incoherent rambling a jumble of all his mixed-up feelings. He’s sure he looks dumb as hell right now, a fully grown man in tears at your door—but your brows furrow in concern, jaw tightening as the pout on your lips deepens. Then, you take a step closer, arms stretched out to pull him into your shoulder for a hug.
This is why Atsumu loves you—
This is why Atsumu has never been more sure of the future he wants.
—because, even when he’s fucked things up and has made an absolute mess of himself, you’re always there, picking him right back up.
“T’sokay Tsum,” you hush, rubbing circles on his back, “there’s no need to explain.”
He sniffles, tucking his face against your neck. It’s impossible to miss the sadness underlying your comfort.
You’re wrong—it’s not okay, and he absolutely has to explain.
After he’s calmed down and the tears have subsided, he pulls away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and apologizing for all the snot he left on your hoodie.
You look confused and a little bit surprised as he takes a step back away from you, his hand immediately reaching inside the pocket of his joggers.
“Y’know I can’t keep anythin’ from ya, right, baby?” he flashes you a small smile, a little nervous.
You nod, because it’s true. Not a single birthday or celebration has ever surprised you because Atsumu’s always ruined it; he just can’t keep a secret from you. Either that, or things just never go accordingly.
“Well, I kept this one real good. Planned it ‘n all. Had everythin’ set.”
The velvet box in his pocket is smooth to the touch, his fingers turning it over. It feels tangible and real now, a moment’s away from his life being changed, forever.
He feels like crying again.
“Was g’na do it on Valentine’s, ‘cos I had it all rehearsed ‘n shit.”
Realization dawns on your face, eyes wide and your chest caught on hold—as if you’re expecting the wrong assumption again.
But when Atsumu gets down on one knee, reaching from his pocket to present to you a ring hidden in red velvet, his fingers tremble when he says, “Know s’not Valentine’s, but can I be your forever Valentine?”
You blink once, then the tears fall—the smile on your face is a little bit wobbly but an awful lot in love. You kneel on the floor with him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.
The both of you are a tear-y mess on the floor, but when you part, he leans his forehead against yours, ring held up between his fingers as he asks just to be extra sure, “So… s’not a goodbye kiss is it?”
You smack him on the chest before slipping in your finger.
“S’a yes kiss, Tsum.”
thank you notes: @augustinewrites for suffering through this atsumu train with me & @soumies + @mysugu for helping me with tsumu characterisation and for listening to me ramble abt this fic!!
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu fluff#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq!! x reader#atsumu x yn#haikyuu!! x reader#atsumu x you#miya atsumu x yn#miya atsumu x you#shotorus.writes#shotorus.events#how to be your lover boy collab
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♡ … TIO \ MV1 & CL16 …
pairing … max verstappen x reader x charles leclerc summary … you, max, n charles all get freaky... it really is just porn w no plot i cannot lie ... 1500+ words warnings … nsfw !!!!! pls only read if you're 18+. oral (m recieving), light spanking, dom/sub undertones, max gets off on others people pleasure hehe notes … this shit is so far from being proofread i am so sorry y'all... i feel like this is some of the worst smut i've ever written lowkey but it's okay, i just wanted to put out something that wasn't the story of us related ! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated & fill out this form to be added to my taglist ! much love <3
your hips swayed against the body behind you, sweat beading along your hairline as you moved to the beat of the song. head tilting onto the shoulder behind you, you placed a chaste kiss to charles’ jawline, grinning as his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you more firmly against him. your eyes shut as you let him move your body, a wide smile taking over your features as you got lost in the pull that charles seemed to have on you.
as your eyes opened, they met ones with a piercing shade of blue holding something in them that you couldn’t quite read. “he’s looking, charlie.” you giggled, hoping the brunette was able to hear you over the sound of the music.
charles’ head tilted up, making eye contact with his rival turned friend, one of his eyebrows quirking up as they stared each other down. you watched the exchange, feeling the adrenaline begin to pool in the pit of your stomach. max stood up at the bar, swiftly moving himself between the sea of bodies that separated him from you and charles.
“hi, maxie…” you grinned as he finally made his way to the two of you, his expression remaining unreadable. “i missed you.” you hummed, your arms making their way over his shoulders as you pulled him closer, sandwiching yourself between the two males.
“is that so?” he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes locked on charles as they seemed to communicate without even speaking.
you hummed, pushing up on your tiptoes so you could place a kiss to the corner of his mouth, giggling as you finally got his attention on you. max moved out of your grasp while charles pulled away from you, causing a pout to take over your glossed lips. “i think it’s time to leave,” the monegasque said, one of his hands finding its way to the small of your back to push you along.
“i don’t want to-” you started, eyebrows furrowing before you saw the look the two were giving you, knowing that the three of you leaving wasn’t up for debate. you huffed before crossing your arms over your chest, eyes rolling as you moved with the two of them.
the car ride to charles’s apartment was tense, you have been delegated to the back seat as the two men sat in the front, barely acting like they knew you were there. but the moment the three of you were alone, it was a completely different scene.
before charles had even been able to shut the door, max pushed you up against the wall in the foyer, plush lips finding their home in your mouth. kissing max was addicting, the way he took the lead with one of his hands threaded in your hair to keep you where he wanted you – he kissed like it was the last thing he was going to do, and it kept you craving more. his free hand trailed to your ass, kneading the flesh in his hand as you gasped into the kiss. max pulled away, nipping at your bottom lip as he did.
your eyes met the dark green of charles’, clearly not having any complaints about watching the show that you and max had just happily put on for him. “bedroom?” it was a simple question, but you quickly obliged. you didn’t miss the way charles pulled max in for a quick kiss, causing you cheeks to heat up even more than they already were.
inside the bedroom, charles couldn’t keep his hands off of you. “let’s get this dress of, mon ange.” he hummed as he kissed down your neck, deft fingers pulling at the zipper of your dress. max helped push it down your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet.
you grinned as the two men looked at your naked body, trying to suppress a giggle at the fact that you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments at all. “mon ange…” charles groaned, his head tilting back.
“dirty, dirty girl.” max shook his head, pushing you towards the bed while your cheeks flamed with heat.
with where you were on the bed, you got a prime seat watching the way charles and max worked together. their lips were entangled in a deep kiss, max’s hands working the buttons of charles’ shirt while charles palmed max through his jeans. you bit at your bottom lip, not wanting to interrupt what the two of them had going on.
the two parted so they could rid themselves of the rest of their clothes before beginning their descent on you. max pulled you towards the end of the bed, causing you to let out a little squeal. “on your hands and knees, schatz.” you followed the command with no pushback, your head towards to foot of the bed.
charles stepped in front of you, his hand working slowly over his dick before he tapped the tip against your lips. your lip parted, your eyes on his as he pushed his way into your mouth. at the same time, max moved onto the bed behind you before he landed a hard smack against one of your ass cheeks, causing you to jerk into charles’ dick.
a groan came from charles, his hand threading into your hair. he wasn’t pushing you, but the pressure of his hand was a nice presence to have. one of max’s fingers trailed down from the curve of your ass to your pussy, barely letting his finger ghost over your entrance before he came down on your clit, rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves.
you moaned onto charles causing him to buck forward, you pulled away with a gasp, tears pooling in your eyes as you looked up at him. “you’re doing so well for us, mon ange… always such a good girl, aren’t you?” one of his hands caressed your jaw before he stepped away, causing you to whine at the loss of contact.
you felt the bed dip, your head turning behind you to look. charles was slotting himself behind you, two of his fingers spreading along your pussy. he groaned at the wetness that was gathered there, lifting his fingers up towards max who willingly took them in his mouth, sucking all of your wetness off of charles’ fingers. “always taste so good…” the dutchman groaned, one of his hands resting against the curve of your ass.
charles grabbed at your hips, pulling you towards the head of the bed so there was room for max to sit in front of you. “please, charlie… need you so bad,” you whined as he ran the tip of his dick along your folds, before he slowly pushed in.
your head hung between your shoulders, moaning at the stretch of him finally entering you. he moved slowly, letting you adjust the size of him before he fully bottomed out. a gasp passed your lips as you felt his hands grab at your stomach, pushing your body up so your back was to his chest – baring your front for max. the blonde’s lips were on yours almost instantly, charles’ fingers tweaking at your nipples while you and max continued to make out. he was breathing in all the moans and gasps you were letting out before he trailed the kisses down to your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh. you were almost positive you were going to have marks by the morning.
you took one of your shaking hands, spitting into your palm before you took max in your hand working your palm over the tip of his dick and then beginning to move your hand with the speed of charles’ thrusts. “i want you to feel good, too…” you gasped; your head knocking back against charles’ shoulder.
max groaned into the curve where your shoulder and neck met, his hips meeting your hand as your eyes screwed shut. “’m close, i’m going to-” your words were cut short by the feeling of fingers pressing circles over your clit, the feeling of tightness erupting in your belly as you let out a gasp, body trembling with the force of your orgasm.
charles quickly pulled out, as you felt the warmth of his cum spread across your lower back and ass while max came across your chest. since charles was no longer holding you up, you slumped forward against max, your head resting against his shoulder as you took in a couple of deep breaths, body still shaking with the aftereffects of your orgasm.
you could faintly feel charles move, hearing the ensuite light turning on and the sound of a sink running. he came back with a wet rag, wiping it along your back before him and max moved you to lay on your back. max wiped at your chest, pressing a light kiss to your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.
“you did so good for us, liefje.” max murmured, moving your body so your head was resting against a pillow.
“max… if you don’t come and cuddle me right now,” you grumbled, smiling as you felt his body slot itself behind you.
charles came back into the room – when he left, you weren’t quite too sure – with a couple glasses of water before mumbling something about hating being the little spoon. a quiet giggle came from you before he entered the bed, your arm wrapping itself around his middle and pulling him closer. as you pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, you mumbled a quiet i love you, before doing the same with max – his kiss being put to his knuckles.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 imagines#f1 smut#f1 fluff#lestappen x reader#lestappen x you#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen smut
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if music be the food of love, chapter one
♥ chapter two! ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic) ♥ word count: 2.1k ♥ pinterest board ♥ warnings: reader got hurt by someone they loved before death, reader is shorter than him, bickering, reader loves tea, lonesome reader, alastor invading space ♥ my idea is that reader has a small stereo on her chest that lets out classical music based on her mood. I imagine that it comes from both her chest (softly) and the outside of her manor (loud as fuck).
Your manor is only visible to the town when the lights are on a tall hill and covered in trees. However, even if all the lights were off, people would at least know it's there.
There are two reasons: the tale and the music.
Tale, a story for the newcomers. They speak of a demon who plays music all day, doomed to play music forever. Oh, the music. The music can be heard from even miles away.
It's refined and dainty, and it reeks of misery. The classical music never seems to repeat itself; it goes on and on and on and on. The demons hear you only through your music. When you cry, the violins and cellos grow with a cruel crescendo. When you sleep, the music is soft, almost quiet. Everyone comes to an understanding, assumption, that if the music were to stop, you would be dead.
The demons who try to step closer to your manor will find themselves experiencing unfathomable sorrow and guilt. The sound of your music is the demonic ability you possess, and it's out of your control. Due to the sadness of your death, you are forced into misery in the afterlife. When you were alive, those you loved and devoted yourself to only broke your heart.
Everybody affected by your music feels that grief.
Alastor doesn't understand why people fear your manor. Your love-related pain doesn't affect him at all.
He starts up the hill, moving both on his feet and through the shadows. On his way to your manor, he focuses on the landscape. The landscape is beautiful; the forest below is so dense that the red sky disappears. Personally, he loves the music. He loves tuning in on you and hearing how you're doing. He sparsely gets to visit, so hearing the song of your heart is always so welcoming.
The worst thing to him is how long the damn walk is.
You're in your house, passing through the dining room, when the lights flicker. The people from the nearby town stutter when the usual sad music suddenly becomes upbeat.
Opening the door, you are greeted by Alastor's traditional smile. You're the one that initiates the hug. He gently wraps his hand around you, only for a short time before he pulls away and establishes his distance.
"Long time no see, my dear." He signs, his claws adding a flare to the simple signs. Truthfully, his sign for "my dear" translates directly to "sweetheart," which he's aware of, just putting faith into you understanding what he means.
"I'll start some tea." You sign, turning immediately to the kitchen.
He smiles at the jazz sneaking its way into your music. The people outside know what it means.
Alastor looks around at the new decor; the place is different every time he enters. It's all the things that you enjoyed when you were alive. That's what is most noticeable about you beyond the aura you possess and how stuck you are to the past; you refuse to acknowledge your situation, which is both a curse and a blessing.
From the kitchen counter, you look at him, seeing him behind you, his staff out of his hands.
He leans a bit forward. "I have news! Have you heard of the new buzz, the new project from the princess of hell?"
A small smile forms. "Charlie?" You remember many years ago when she appeared at your door, in tears due to your involuntary magic, begging you to teach her ASL. You politely declined, though you wrote her a long paper about Deaf Culture (often derailing to rant about your opinion on common debates/crazy events). You've never seen her again, but you're confident she's read it.
You continue, "Her projects are... sweet?"
"Sweet and quite peculiar. She believes that demons can be redeemed. How absurd!" His smile grows, his eyes squinting in interest. He knows you're devoted to being good and staying away from violence. He's here to convince you to join her cause.
"Fascinating," you can't help but show your pure astonishment. "She's on our side."
"Oh, how kind you are!"
The tea is ready. You turn entirely away from Alastor, and he lets you. Your thoughts are apparent; he has spent weeks excited about this conversation. He's absolutely fighting the urge to spill out every argument he has; he wants to mention that if you participate, you'll see each other daily. That hasn't even crossed your mind yet.
You pour the tea and take your time, a little nervous to continue the convo. Alastor's eyes remain on your frame, your casual clothing. The last time he saw you, you were dressed up despite spending your days alone.
You hand a cup to him. Neither sign; you stand still, staring at each other and drinking. Both of you already know what the other will try to say next. Your eyes are deep in thought while he is locked on you. The only reason you are doubting being involved with everything yourself is that you know your aura makes others depressed. It is not very good, isolating. On the opposite stance, Alastor always noticed how your music gets positive whenever he's around. He knows (guesses) that in the hotel, with his presence, your saddening demeanor would be no more.
He moves abruptly, you follow, and he sits on a heavily cushioned couch, dipping deeply, which makes him smile. Your soft smile grows���more piano.
"What are your thoughts?" He prompts with one hand. You take a very long sip of your tea before putting it down.
"I wouldn't make them feel comfortable," you explain. "That's all I think about."
"Ever so pessimistic, my dear. You never know unless you come to visit. What do you say?" He grabs his mic and jokingly reaches it to your face, "A simple visit?"
You put a hand to your temple. "My love," you sign without noticing how his lids droop in comfort, "do you really think I would belong?"
He puts his hand to his chin in faux thought. "Of course I do! The princess will approach you with open arms."
You let out a small, broken groan. You're not going to be winning this little debate. Alastor's going to be able to rebuttal everything you say. Knowing that, why is it still so hard to give in?
You put your hands in your lap before returning them to your temples. His smile grows, and the static radiating off him grows ever so prominent, tickling your skin. You look up at him when you notice the change in the air.
The way he looks at you gives away his intentions. He is standing tall in his usual formal way in his seat, but his eyes are ever so casual. He gazes at you more than anything. His smile is still wide and prideful.
You wiggle a finger at him. "Ah."
He squints.
You continue, "You want to see me more, don't you?"
"Who wouldn't?" He plays off, shrugging. "Your captivating presence has every demon in hell dropping their jaws agape."
"Youuuuuu," you smile mischievously, "you want to see me more."
He continues to wave his hands. "Your accusations are futile, go ahead and fill your pretty head with things such as affection," his shoulders bounce as he chuckles, "dreams about how I miss you."
A breathless laugh leaves your lips. Rather than continue the teasing, you let the positive atmosphere linger in the air. You lift your chin with confidence. "Practically admitting it."
"I know what you want me from me." He signs. You smile at how he interpreted it. You don't bother responding. Instead, you give him a sly smile and lift your cup, taking another long sip; his bottom eyelid is twitching.
The last time he saw you, he signed you many compliments and even danced with you to the rhythm of your music. He let you put your hand on his face as he leaned his forehead against yours.
Admittedly, you only started teasing him because you wanted him to tell you that he missed you. Obviously, he did. You didn't expect him to be so stubborn about it.
When you don't respond, he continues. "When I'm here, your heart sings in happiness."
You nod and sign with one hand. "Very true."
"Well, I find the sound lovely."
"Very appreciated."
You watch as he leans back and crosses his legs, lifting and finishing the teacup. You both spend a few seconds without conversation, just looking at each other. In an attempt to hide how flustered you are starting to look, you lean your head back and gulp down the tea to the point where the cup is hiding your face. But you can only keep it in that position for a short time. After finishing the drink, you place it back down, finding that Alastor is already sitting with his fingers intertwined and waiting for you. His eyes sparkle.
"My dear, I missed you very much." And as quickly as the affection comes, it disappears. "I must give the little lady what she wants. There, are you happy?"
"I missed you too, Alastor. Thank you for coming up again."
Sappy, sappy, sappy. Will you agree to return to the hotel with him now?
He straights his bowtie and stands. "My dear, I'm afraid our time here will be cut short; I have a hotel to show you, don't I?"
You stay seated, just eyeing him. Peer pressure, you sigh and try not to roll your eyes. A simple nose exhaling is enough to show him how you feel.
He leans his head to the side. "Is there anything I can do to convince you?"
You finally stand and meet his eyes. His eyes are gorgeous; you love the way he looks at you. He doesn't take his eyes off you when you step close to him. Your hands reach for his overcoat, and you adjust it fruitlessly, only wanting an excuse to touch him.
You smile. "I can cook you something for your long trip back."
"Our."
"Your."
You both lean in, smiles straining.
He tries again. "Our."
"Biscuits, I assume," you turn your heels and motion for him to follow you. The motion you make is beckoning, and when you flick your wrist, he grabs it and pulls you into him. He lets you go to see your response. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You fall for people too easily. His touch is demanding, yet his face is calm, and with how close he is, all you can do is stare up at him. Your feet stumble a bit to adjust to your new stance. He will fight tooth and nail to get you to follow him back; throughout his days, he always wonders what you're doing and your music might sound like. He'll close his eyes and try to imagine the melody in moments of silence at the hotel.
You can't find yourself stepping back. "I'm perfectly okay with where I am." A lie. "Nobody will bother me if I'm out here."
"And nobody will bother you when you're next to me, get it?" After he signs, both of his hands hold your cheeks. He tilts your head back and forth to try and lighten the mood that's getting a little serious.
You try to hold his wrists and pull his hands down, but he fights against you. He lifts your face so he can look at you head-on. The waist bends his body; he curls himself up to you. Your touch falls to his sleeves and then moves to his biceps, your fingers grazing him gently.
The music is fast-paced, like your heart. It sounds almost angelic, a new ethereal sound surrounding it.
"Okay," you fold but then immediately chew on the inside of your lip.
"Perfect!" He presses his forehead to yours quickly before pulling away. He's taking this win. He turns and eyes the room, motioning. "Packing anything?"
With a small sigh of defeat, you place your hands on your temples again. What would you even need? Like a spoiled child, you realize that if you did need something in particular, Alastor would get it for you. You smiled and shook your head to yourself. "I don't think I need anything at all."
"Spectacular!" Another dramatic sign. "Come along then." The fast twirling of his staff blows air onto you when you start to walk behind him, eyeing how his fingers twist. His head turns as he glances at you from the corner of his eye, his head dipping as his smile widens. The static in the air becomes thicker.
You take a deep breath. If you can say 'I told you so' to him, you will be bringing it up until the end of time. He knows that, so it's good that he's confident in himself and his deductions. He'll ensure you won't be leaving and isolating yourself any longer.
#x deaf reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#x reader#if music be the food of love
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Open Arms
Two players, one last name. Only one of you is suffering from the legacy attached to it
Alexia Putellas x sister!reader
masterlist
Warnings: angst and/or hurt + bit of an inconclusive ending lol not happy or sad kinda just… 🫠
A/N: more alexia angst in the place of aapa pt. 4! heavily inspired by open arms by sza, and i highly recommend that you listen to it because this will make a whole lot more sense if you do + it’s amazing. this song is so dear to my heart and honestly one of my favourites ever, so i had to write something inspired by it because the meaning is so deep and interpretable in many ways. this is just one of them :)
You thought that playing for Barcelona was your lifelong dream.
It was a picturesque scene; two players sharing the same last name stepping onto the pitch in the same jersey. It had been your dream at one point, until you realised the influence of your sister was leading you to believe that.
This set something off in you, like it triggered a chain reaction of thoughts and epiphanies that led up to the inevitable.
It was so hard to shine as your own individual self, when all you were credited for was the name on your back and the uncanny resemblance you had to Alexia. You were good, you were so good, but nobody ever noticed. You knew it would stay like this forever if you didn’t do something for yourself.
You could remember your hometown of Mollet de Vallès to be a place that was rife with FC Barcelona pride; it would’ve been the ultimate betrayal to your neighbourhood if you hadn’t elected to play for the club. It would be the ultimate betrayal to leave them, as well.
You were born and raised in Barcelona. The culture, the people, the club, all of it was surely intertwined into your soul. That wouldn’t stop you from running away from every bit of it and breaking out of the manacles this city held you in.
If it wasn’t for your sister and the fact that all your years spent at the club was deeply rooted in the love you had for her, you would’ve been gone ages ago.
At first, you thought you were just having one of those days when nothing felt like it was going your way, but the feelings persisted and you became more acutely aware of the real problem — you were staying for Alexia, and her feelings were beginning to come above your career and self-esteem.
You could only spend so much time in the dark before you started craving the light. Living in her shadow was simply not good enough. You had spent enough of your life feeling hopeless.
Being on the same team as her meant that the closest you’d ever get to being called good is comparisons to your sister. Alexia was La Reina. Alexia was everything. You? Well… you were barely anything if not Alexia’s little sister, the other less impressive Putellas.
Talks with your agent made the decision you had to make crystal clear; you could continue to be downplayed as long as you stay at Barcelona, or you could leave the club and feel what it’s like to be appreciated for the skill you possess instead of your relations to Alexia.
The hardest part of this entire thing? Telling her.
You could pack your things and book your plane tickets, call your agent and tell him to start negotiating with clubs, let the board know that you’re leaving for good and never turning back, but breaking the news to Alexia was easier said than done.
When you were in her kitchen one night, bearing a burden on your shoulders, you hesitated to speak. The knowledge of your career at Barça coming to an end after one more match was severing your tongue, preventing you from speaking, and eventually you’d cave beneath it and keep it all to yourself until Alexia found out in the worst way possible. The deal was done, you put pen to paper, and you were set to join Bayern Munich. All that was left to do was tell Alexia.
Bayern Munich, so far away from Barcelona, it was perfect. You could restart and build a name for yourself, completely separated from your family name. Even if Alexia did get angry, you would be in Germany within the next month (give or take a week), so what did it matter?
Part of you had faith that she’d understand, recognise your intentions and not take it to heart. The entirety of you hoped and prayed for that.
“Alexia,” you started, turning around in your seat at the dining table to look at her while she poured herself a glass of water. She hummed in response to you, as to indicate that she was listening.
“I’m leaving the club. I’ve signed it — the contract — and it’s done. I’m going to Bayern.”
She turned off the faucet suddenly, standing at the sink with her back to you. Her grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly, and you could hear the deep breath she took.
“What?” she mumbled, turning around to look at you with eyes narrowed in disbelief. You glared at the table, nodding your head slightly.
“I’m going to Bayern,” you repeated, looking up to meet her now widened eyes as she placed her glass down. “I’m leaving Barça.”
She glanced at you, her eyes softening for a moment, and you could tell that she was barely registering the news.
“You can’t,” she responded, “Barça is your home, we belong here, both of us–”
There went any chances of her understanding you. That other part of you that knew she wouldn’t be rational about this, had been proven right. “You belong here, Alexia. I don’t,” you shot back, pointing at her with an almost accusing finger.
“What’s wrong with the club?” Alexia snapped. You glared at her, your angered façade crumbling away to reveal the true sadness that remained behind it.
“This club is your dream, (Y/N). I mean, I don’t get it,” she laughed, her expression seeping with disbelief, “You love it here, I love you here– don’t you remember? We used to talk about retiring here together, assisting each other and scoring from each other’s passes. Remember how you’ve always wanted to score a bicycle kick off one of my corners? Why do you want to leave, when we haven’t done all this, when there’s still so much for us to achieve?”
It wasn’t her fault that everyone kept you in the dark. Alexia would never want you at Barça if she knew this was going to happen. Still, you couldn’t cave now. There was no use in regretting anything, because it was done. Maybe if you had told her about your plans to leave, you would’ve felt this regret earlier, and things would’ve been different. Empty ‘what-ifs’ only reminded you that it was too late.
But still, her plea to make you stay was solely built on whatever regarded her. Not a single thing about what you wanted to do was taken into consideration.
“Tell me what made you want to leave, and I’ll make them change it. Just don’t ruin your career by leaving,” she continued.
“You know what?” you started, standing up so you were eye-to-eye with your sister, “I thought you out of all people would understand, but no. You’re selfish, Alexia. This is what’s best for me, I can’t stay here if I want to be any good!”
You were yelling, and you never liked to yell, but it felt like the only way to properly convey your feelings to the woman.
“I’m not even second best to you. Sometimes I feel like I’m only kept at this club to make you look good, and I am so, so sick of it. For years I’ve– I have no confidence left, no sense of pride in myself, I barely ever feel happy wearing this jersey because it’s always been your dream, not mine! I’m not the Putellas that belongs here, everyone knows that, so don’t try to make me stay because this is my only chance to be great. I want to be great, Alexia, and you should know better than anyone what it’s like to want that.”
It was only normal that you began to tear up amidst your words, and they trembled on your waterline as you spoke.
Alexia looked defeated.
More than anything, she felt unbridled amounts of guilt running rife through her. She wanted to reach out to you, hug you, tell you that everything would be alright and she never looked at you as a dim light that made hers look brighter, but she was glued to the spot, her muscles twitching and urging her to step forward with no avail.
“I love you, and I’ve stayed all this time for you. Honestly, I never even wanted to stay. You’re the only one that’s holding me down.” It was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and in its place sat a mix of relief and guilt.
Alexia stayed silent, only a singular tear slipping down her cheek, the start of many that she would shed behind closed doors that night. It was more than just losing a teammate to her, and she wasn’t so emotional because her sister was leaving; it was the realisation that she didn’t know you very well in the first place, and the culpability of realising that she really had been holding you down.
That conversation was one of the last you had with Alexia in person. You played one last match for the Blaugrana, and then you left for Germany the following week.
Even weeks of knowing prior to your final match couldn’t soften the blow as Alexia stood on the pitch, clapping for you as you waved goodbye to the fans and teammates alike, tears brimming in your eyes that were akin to the ones rolling down her cheeks.
She walked up to you, and she embraced you like she never has before, like you were disappearing into nothingness instead of another country. You gripped her tightly, savouring the hug and trying to memorise the feeling, and when she pulled away, she had a pensive smile on her face.
“If you ever want to come back to me, I’ll always be right here with open arms. Cuídate, hermana.”
#fcb femení x reader#fcbfemeni#fcb femení#woso#woso angst#woso imagines#woso x reader#woso community#woso fanfics#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#fc barcelona femeni#fc barcelona x reader#fcb femeni
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The Knuckles show
The announcement of a live action Knuckles streaming miniseries was surprising, to say the least. I mean, what would such a show even be about in a version of the Sonic universe with no Angel Island and barely any characters from the games around? Is he gonna go treasure hunting with the gang from Montana or something? Would a streaming miniseries have the CGI budget to squeeze in any new game characters, even briefly? Rouge? Amy? At least one member of Team Chaotix? Anyone?
Now the show is finally out, and it turns out what they actually made was a comedy show about bumbling deputy sheriff Wade Whipple, the minor comic relief character played by Adam Pally who you might not even remember all that well from the first two movies, with Knuckles as his sidekick. While, yes, Knuckles does get a decent amount of screentime and opportunities to punch bad guys and do cool moves from the games, large stretches of this show focus on Wade's personal life, to the point that a couple times I almost forgot I was watching a Sonic-related show. If you're judging it purely by the metric of how well it adapts and engages with its source material, this surely must be one of the worst adaptations the Sonic franchise has ever seen.
So then, despite some huge complaints... why do I kinda like it?
(This will contain full spoilers for the Knuckles show.)
A brief summary of what the show is actually about because I know half of you aren't going to watch it
The show picks up not too long after the end of the second movie. Knuckles is now living in Montana with Sonic, Tails, and the Wachowskis out of a sense of debt to them, though he doesn't really see it as his home. He doesn't feel like he belongs on Earth, and his life currently lacks direction. After communing with the ghost of Pachacamac, though, Knuckles is instructed to keep his culture alive by teaching "the ways of the echidna warrior" to a new apprentice: deputy sheriff Wade Whipple, who's currently more concerned about winning a bowling tournament in Reno than anything else.
Things are complicated by the interference of two rogue GUN agents - Agent Willoughby, played by Ellie Taylor in a bad wig, and Agent Mason, played by Kid Cudi. (Yes, the artist behind the second movie's credits song is one of the bad guys in this.) They want to steal Knuckles' power and sell it to a former associate of Robotnik's played by Rory McCann (The Hound from Game of Thrones), who now works as a black market arms dealer. Yes, they're still doing the thing where Sonic and friends' quills radiate some kind of super-energy that the bad guys all want. No, I don't particularly love this element of the Paramount Sonic continuity. Anyway, they go after Knuckles and Wade, complicating their straightforward road trip to Reno. Antics ensue.
The Wade show
So here's the thing. While the first episode focuses largely on Knuckles, the entire rest of the show is very much the story of Wade, and by extension the other original human characters invented for this miniseries.
Episode 2 is about Wade having to rescue Knuckles from captivity after the GUN agents get him. Knuckles spends most of the episode in a cage.
Episode 3 is about introducing Wade's Jewish family, including his slightly overbearing mother and weird sister, so that Knuckles can learn about their family traditions and have Shabbat dinner with them (and then save them from bounty hunters that the GUN agents hired).
Episode 4 only features Knuckles at the very beginning and very end of the episode, probably for less than a minute total. Wade is captured by a bounty hunter he personally knows, and Knuckles decides to let that be a trial for Wade to overcome on his own.
The last two episodes feature the climactic showdowns with the GUN agents and their arms-dealing ally, who comes in with a mech for the obligatory final boss fight. You'd think this would be Knuckles' time to shine, but really, these episodes are mostly about the bowling tournament in Reno where Wade encounters his estranged father, wrapping up his own personal arc. While Knuckles does get some fights, a lot of the finale is spent on lengthy bowling scenes where Knuckles isn't in the room or even mentioned. It frequently feels more like a spiritual successor to '00s sports comedy movies like Dodgeball, Talladega Nights, or Blades of Glory than it does a part of the Sonic franchise, and the presence of ESPN 8: The Ocho commentary in the finale only drives those Dodgeball comparisons home. They get so immersed in the bowling stuff that it's genuinely hilarious when the show suddenly pivots and remembers "oh shit we still need to do the final boss fight"
Throughout all this, Wade is the protagonist. He's the character we spend more time with, he's the character who drives most of the major events, he's the character who gets more of an arc. The emotional core is Wade's journey. Knuckles is still present - sometimes, at least - but he's there as Wade's wingman, and also just as the excuse for there to be some fight scenes.
How much Sonic stuff is actually in this show?
Honestly? Not much.
Sonic and Tails are only in the first episode. Sonic gets some good scenes, but Tails gets a grand total of five lines. I counted. Unsurprisingly, Jim Carrey is absent as Robotnik, though he does get mentioned a fair bit. (For that matter, basically the entire established human cast beyond Wade is absent, even including Tom, though Maddie is there in episode one.)
GUN is involved in the story, which helps it feel slightly more connected to Sonic, but it kind of feels like it's GUN in name only. They don't use any recognizable GUN tech, and they don't call in the military. It's just two agents in suits. They might as well be the Men in Black.
The Master Emerald is mentioned as something Knuckles has to guard, but it's never seen. Angel Island is pictured as a drawing during the show's intro, appearing exactly how it does in Sonic 3, but it's never referenced at all beyond that.
I guess the climax taking place in and around a Reno casino is a reference to Sonic's many casino-themed levels. That's something. I'll give them that.
Oh, and if you're wondering if this is the point where we finally start to get actual music from the games: no, it's not. The soundtrack consists of a lot of '80s needle drops, many of which are generic Hollywood picks like "Holding Out for a Hero" for the billionth time, thought it at least has some slightly less obvious picks than the Mario movie. The theme song is '80s rock song "The Warrior" by Scandal. You'll hear it many times. You'll hear the Adventure era Knuckles raps zero times in this. You'll briefly hear classic A Tribe Called Quest song "Can I Kick It?" before Knuckles takes the question too literally and breaks the radio in Wade's car.
Beyond a handful of surface level references for nerds (one of which is admittedly wild - we'll get to that), this is probably the least an officially licensed adaptation of Sonic the Hedgehog has ever tried to actually engage with its source material. I struggle to think of another Sonic adaptation that has less to do with Sonic. For as much shit as I and countless others have given Penders for seemingly ignoring the content of the games in favor of building his own convoluted mythos, his Knuckles comics honestly included way more elements from the games than this show does.
Somehow, the one new(-ish) Sonic character introduced in this is the ghost of Pachacamac of all characters. Not even Tikal! Pachacamac! A very minor character nobody has particularly strong feelings about! You can't even use the excuse that they already had the character model, because they completely redesigned him compared to his cameo in the first movie to better match his Sonic Adventure design. And he's voiced by Christopher Lloyd! Honestly, so many of his lines are strained that it sounds like he's on death's door here, but then he'll surprise you with a more casual line like "just do it, man" and it catches me so off guard that I can't help but laugh.
Pachacamac here has basically nothing to do with the game character he takes his name and appearance from. Where the game character was a cruel warlord who kicked off a 3000 year cycle of violence, Paramount Pachacamac is now just this chill old man who gives Knuckles (and later Wade) advice in two episodes of the show. Hell, he also feels completely disconnected from his established role in the movies, where he's literally the guy who shot Longclaw. The show will not grapple with this contradiction at all. He's just here to be a thing fans like me will recognize from the games. Again, if that's all they wanted, it's kind of baffling that they didn't just use Tikal.
I don't love Knuckles in this
But what about Knuckles himself? Well, he doesn't feel all that much like Knuckles to me. Ironically, he sometimes feels like one of the weaker elements in his own show.
Back when the second movie came out, I noted that Knuckles' characterization seemed to be pulling heavily from MCU Thor as a gallant warrior from an archaic alien culture who doesn't really understand modern day Earth stuff. That worked for me in that movie. It was just there for spice. Just a little extra flavor for the character in what was otherwise a very faithful adaptation of Knuckles' storyline in Sonic 3 & Knuckles. Without those familiar elements grounding him and with a much higher reliance on comedy, Idris Elba's Knuckles becomes a pretty one-note character in this.
In damn near every scene with Knuckles, he's going to say something about being a proud, honorable echidna warrior, or brag about his glorious feats of strength, or be confused about some Earth thing and call it sorcery, or act like every other character is also a member of some noble warrior clan. He still has his moments for sure, but this schtick kinda gets old fast, and it just doesn't feel like Knuckles to me. His entire character feels derived from the scene in the diner where Thor smashes the cup on the ground and goes "Another!" Sure, I can picture game Knuckles smashing a radio to turn it off and being a little too gung-ho about busting holes through walls. That's Knuckles behavior. But building a barbarian combat pit in the living room so the Wachowski family dog can fight the mailman? Nope. That's some other guy now. It really does just feel like them taking a broad character archetype from something popular that kinda sorta fits Knuckles and just running with that, rather than trying to actually adapt the character.
Oh, but don't worry, he wears the OVA hat for like two minutes! AND he loves grapes! See, Sonic nerds? We read the wiki! That's his favorite food! Grapes! This is gonna come up like five times!
Knuckles kind of gets an arc here, but not as much as Wade does. I think the stuff about him starting to feel at home on Earth thanks to Wade's mom and the way he connects with their Jewish family traditions is oddly sweet. This arc is kind of let down, though, by the fact that Knuckles' heritage is treated as a complete joke. He's a cartoonish pastiche of various historical warrior cultures stuck together in a blender and used mostly for comedic effect. When Pachacamac's ghost appears, he's reading a newspaper and bemoaning the fact that the Mets lost again. This is not the place for a serious examination of Knuckles' feelings on being the last of his kind.
This is far from the only time the show undercuts itself with its jokes and attempts at self-parody. In the first episode, for instance, Knuckles clashes with GUN Agent Mason and his tech-enhanced punches, leading to an extremely on-the-nose inversion of the "Do I look like I need your power?" scene showcased in the trailer for the second movie. Except this time, Agent Willoughby butts in and points out how stupid that line is in this new context, since they're literally trying to steal Knuckles' power. The fight can't just be cool, they have to get cute with it. A lot of stuff like that happens in this show.
Given all these complaints, the first two episodes left me thinking I'd be fairly negative on this show overall. This seemed like the version of the show from the fandom's collective nightmares, one that undoes all of the progress the movie series seemed to have been making towards faithfulness to the games. Like, just look at these cast posters. Is this what you want out of Sonic? Do these excite you?
But then, something strange happened. Over time, I just kind of let the jokes and shenanigans wash over me and basked in how fucking weird this show is.
And I started to actually enjoy it.
Look. The Wade & Knuckles Show was never going to be peak Sonic. But that sure as hell doesn't mean it can't be entertaining.
This show is so fucking goofy
Here's the thing.
The show is funny.
Unlike a lot of other people, I didn't hate all the wedding stuff in Hawaii in Sonic 2, because I thought a lot of it was funny, both in its actual jokes and in the ways in which they tied everything back to Sonic. Tom looking wistfully at some bodybuilders doing Top Gun shit and spraying each other with beer and being like "I wish Sonic had that" is weirdly funny. The twist that those muscle bros are all agents of the newly formed GUN, who orchestrated the wedding as an elaborate scheme to catch Sonic, is funny. Mr. Olive Garden becoming the fucking GUN Commander is VERY funny. Are any of these elements of my dream Sonic movie? No, of course not. But my dream Sonic movie was never gonna happen in live action.
The Knuckles show follows up on the comedy of the previous films by being probably the funniest live action Sonic release yet. Did every joke land for me? God no. There are some stinkers in there that made me roll my eyes. But enough of them landed that it worked out for me overall. A big part of this is the fact that they've got a good cast of actors and/or comedians here.
Adam Pally is funny as Wade, and I found myself liking him more and more as a character as the show went on. He becomes an oddly endearing loser, with some sweet moments in his personal arc that made me feel for the guy. I like Wade more than Tom now, thanks to this show. I will now be happier to see Wade in Sonic 3 than I would have been previously.
The supporting cast is frequently great, too, many of whom are playing completely cartoonish, over-the-top characters. They took a cue from how exaggerated Carrey's performance was as Robotnik and decided to just abandon all pretense that this is the real world. Stockard Channing as Wade's mom is funny, and carries some of the more sincere parts of the show. Cary Elwes as Wade's very British dad who abandoned him as a child to run off and be the world's most egotistical professional bowler is funny. Edi Patterson as Wade's sister Wanda is... well, she's kinda trying too hard, but she has her moments. The Mighty Boosh co-creator Julian Barratt(!!) as a scenery-chewing bounty hunter, who was also somehow Wade's former best friend and bowling partner, is VERY funny. I love this guy.
(Honestly, they should let more people who were on Garth Marenghi's Darkplace be in Sonic stuff. Where's Matt Berry)
This is kind of a stacked cast for a bunch of stupid side characters in a live action Knuckles show! And honestly, that just makes it funnier to me. Even when they're not funny, the fact that this exists makes it funny. They somehow convinced Paramount to give them a bunch of money to make a spiritual successor to Dodgeball about a schlubby guy who wants to beat his dad at a bowling tournament... except also Knuckles the fucking Echidna is there as his personal life coach. My life is richer for the fact that I can say that sentence. I think about all the little kids who are probably watching this show this weekend, going in expecting a show about Knuckles the Echidna and having to sit through extensive bowling scenes and lore about Wade's family, and sorry kids, but I just have to laugh. Wade isn't even on the poster! The poster is just a picture of Knuckles!! They punked those kids!!!
In a franchise where every single aspect is so carefully micromanaged these days, it feels truly special to get an adaptation this bonkers. It frequently appeals to the same part of me that enjoys the fact that there's an officially licensed Knuckles comic in which Charmy Bee's best friend (also a bee) dies of an accidental LSD overdose from a drug-laced chili dog. Or like, everything about the original 1993 Super Mario Bros. movie. Or the fact that they made seven direct-to-DVD sequels to Alpha and Omega, one of which is half a retread of the adventure from the first movie (with more annoying supporting characters in tow this time) and half a literal clip show of the first movie. The sheer absurdity of the fact that these things exist is charming to me. Except, with the Knuckles show, it has the added benefit of frequently being funny on purpose! This is why I'm not sure I'd call it "so bad it's good." Like, it's not amazing, but there were a lot of parts that I enjoyed in the exact way I was supposed to enjoy them.
Look. Here's a list of real lines of dialogue from the Sega-approved Knuckles the Echidna streaming show that they're billing as a pillar of the Paramount+ lineup, to drive this point home. Let these marinate for a minute:
"I only eat grapes, and Cool Ranch Doritos™."
"Annihilate this little girl, Wade. Crush her spirit. Humiliate her so badly her parents won't even look at her again." "Doesn't that seem like we're going a bit far?" "Not far enough."
"So is he Jewish?" "Half, I think."
"I had a friend who when he listened to Alien Ant Farm he could lift a Toyota Corolla over his head."
"I'm in dire financial straits. Due to my lawsuit against an unnamed rainforest-themed restaurant franchise, I don't have two pennies to my name."
"We're here in sunny Reno, Nevada, which is so close to Hell you can smell the sparks."
"You can't threaten me with your Jewish karate chops because I am a federal agent."
"I will say, regardless of how you feel about child abandonment - and I'm against it! - the deals at TJ Maxx can't be beat."
This is a Sonic show in which they got Paul Scheer and Rob Huebel to appear as ESPN 8: The Ocho commentators.
This is a show where Wade's mom insists upon pronouncing "Knuckles" with the throaty Hebrew "ch" sound, and declares that Knuckles is basically Jewish. Later, they watch Pretty Woman together while enjoying a nice slice of key lime pie. Knuckles comments: "I don't understand. This young streetwalker with a heart made of gold, why do the others treat her with such disdain? Is it so wrong to walk the streets?"
This is a show where the fourth episode is directed by one of the guys from The Lonely Island and features a hallucinatory low budget rock opera stage musical put on by the ghost of Pachacamac. It recounts Knuckles' life story, with Wade playing Knuckles and the "evil" Longclaw played by the bounty hunter guy who's played by the Mighty Boosh guy.
Look at this.
And also, Knuckles' singing voice is provided by Michael Bolton, which they proudly announce in the middle of the musical.
And also...
Also...???
IBLIS IS IN IT????????????
Yes, Iblis!
From Sonic '06!!
Knuckles is said to have looked for a mythical power called the "Flames of Disaster" to avenge his clan, which ended up being the power that was within him all along that lets him do fire punches yadda yadda yadda. As part of this, he apparently fought Iblis off-screen at some point, as conveyed with the giant singing papier-mâché Iblis in the musical.
...Then Iblis sings about hitting up Facebook Marketplace
How? How does any of this exist? Why reference '06 of all games? How did Iblis get into the live action Sonic movie universe before Amy and Metal Sonic? Why are they using Iblis and the term "Flames of Disaster" in such a goofy way that completely disregards their original context?
I don't know. I don't know how any of this happened. But I love it. We got a Knuckles miniseries in which Michael Bolton sings the phrase "the Flames of Disaster." The world is a beautiful place sometimes.
Some people will tell you to skip episode four. "Knuckles is barely even in it," they say. "It's dumb and pointless," they say. "They clearly just ran out of special effects budget," they say. These are people whose opinions you should disregard. The episode with the least Knuckles in it is somehow the most entertaining episode of the show. I would, in fact, go as far as to say that if you only decide to watch one episode of the Knuckles show to see what goofy bullshit they get up to, it should be this one.
I cannot be mad at this show. It's so dumb, but it completely owns the fact that it's a dumb and unnecessary spinoff. Inferiority is baked into its very DNA. It's very self-consciously redoing the premise of the first movie, but stupider. It's about The Other Cop from the movies, instead of the competent one. Instead of being into a "cooler" sport, his life revolves around professional bowling. Instead of going to Vegas, he goes to Reno. Even his tragic backstory that shaped his entire life sucks. He was abandoned by his pro bowler dad in a TJ Maxx. Not even a nicer department store. A fucking TJ Maxx. This whole show is a Dril tweet.
They put a ton of effort into making it dumb in an occasionally spectacular way. So much effort was put into that joke rock opera that fans will just write off as stupid filler. They put their whole pussies into it. This is not a poorly made show. This has better production values than half the shit made for Disney+. This was made with love. Maybe not as much love for the Sonic the Hedgehog series of video games as we'd like, but it's love nonetheless.
Maybe this show broke me and these are the ramblings of a madwoman. Maybe I'm just really nostalgic for the '90s and '00s comedy movies all the Wade stuff is modeled after. Maybe the Alan Wake fan in me just really loves it when a story pivots to a silly rock opera for no real reason. I won't discount any of these possibilities. This isn't high art. This isn't something I would recommend to anyone with zero interest in Sonic, and it also isn't going to sway Sonic fans who hate the Paramount universe. I really can't blame them for being bewildered by this show. But for a specific type of person, this is the absurd three-star Sonic-adjacent comedy miniseries of your dreams. It's a mid masterpiece.
Again, I just have to step back, realize the fact that this shouldn't exist, and smile. Sega's too afraid to do stupid bullshit with the franchise like this these days. And I can't blame them, after years of Sonic being a treated as a laughingstock. But part of me misses some of the goofy shit. No matter how much I tore some of the Archie comics apart as I was reading them for this blog, I just look back on stuff like Cal and Al or the Many Hands issues and laugh. And that same part of me looks at this show about Knuckles being the sidekick to this fucking guy, and just goes...
"We're so back."
In conclusion, I genuinely think this was a more enjoyable TV show than Sonic Prime.
I wouldn't go back and rewatch Sonic Prime anytime soon, aside from maybe, like, a couple of the Shadow-heavy episodes. Huge stretches of that show bored me to tears. The writers squandered all of that show's potential. But I would rewatch the Knuckles show, which takes a terrible premise and has a lot of fun with it, in a heartbeat. Even the bowling parts. The bowling scenes in the Knuckles show are more engaging than 70% of the fights in Sonic Prime. I am not trolling. I mean that sincerely, with all my heart. Don't @ me.
Stray observations
There is effectively zero meaningful setup for the third movie in this, unless Wade's family or the two GUN agents come back or something. Project Shadow is not mentioned in this. There is no secret post-credits scene with Gerald
The CGI in this is pretty good. Not quite on par with the movies, but pretty good. Sonic's weird forehead wrinkles are distracting in his scenes though. Please fix that
I wouldn't say I liked this as much as the second movie, which obviously gets a ton of points for, you know. The Cool Sonic Shit. But I had more fun with it than the first movie, which I still feel is a painfully generic family movie that was only saved by Tyson's redesign
"Grapes are an interesting choice for someone who doesn't use his individual fingers."
Agent Willoughby was apparently the one at GUN who had to buy the Olive Garden gift cards and set up the fake wedding. Her origin story is that she hated doing shit like that and wanted to go fight aliens
This miniseries contains another Keanu namedrop because Wade's childhood bedroom has a Speed poster on the wall. I swear, if Sonic doesn't say Shadow sounds just like Keanu...
Knuckles is familiar with Paul Blart Mall Cop
Near the end the ESPN 8: The Ocho commentators say that the 1974 Reno bowling championship was also interrupted by an extraterrestrial, and given that was exactly 50 years ago I can't write off the possibility that that was Shadow. Please for the love of god give us a sequel series after the third movie where Wade takes Shadow the Hedgehog bowling. I need this more than I need air
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I just watched Wish (2023) and it made me realize something kind of sad about Disney’s treatment of villains.
So Disney has a long history of villainy from the OG Evil Queen who is willing to murder a girl just for being pretty to the misguided like Auto thinking he’s protecting humanity in Wall-E. They are mean, jealous, prideful, vain, and many relish in just being the worst of the worst. However every now and then we get a glimpse of more complexity. Zootopia’s Bellwether dealing with years of racism and mistreatment, Gantu trying to stop what he thinks is a monster in Lilo and Stitch, Up’s Muntz being a heroic explorer before paranoia consumed him, etc. The thing that makes me sad about these villains is that not one of them has ever had a chance at redemption or change in Disney’s eyes and nowhere is that sadder to me than their latest villain, King Magnifico.
(Spoilers below)
King Magnifico is the magical founder of a utopian society that accepts people of all races, religions, and backgrounds. Who created this wonderful place after what is heavily implied to be a violent invasion destroyed his homeland when he was but a child. This past trauma led him to study magic and become a powerful sorcerer so that nothing could hurt him or the people he cared about ever again. His magic is a protection that he extends to all who choose to live in the city. The city is vibrant with a colorful community full of artisans, musicians, and dancers. He takes no taxes from them, but does take their one true wish upon joining this society.
When given these wishes it is understood that he will ensure their safety and possibly grant them one day. Something important to note about the physical manifestations of the wishes is that they give off a warm and comforting aura as they represent some of the purest parts of a person’s soul. Magnifico has been surrounding himself with this magical comfort for a very very long time by himself and I don’t think it’s unfair to say he has become addicted to their presence. The wishes are giving him a magical comfort through the kind souls within them, a feeling he could’ve probably also gotten if he had spent more time with his people.
It doesn’t look like he ever really got the chance to commune with his people properly because somehow the society kicked off on his wish granting abilities. People had to give him their wishes if they wanted them granted and eventually the ones that he couldn’t grant in good conscience or out of fear started adding up so he began locking them away. Keeping them safe so no harm came to the people. The rare occasions that anyone else interacts with these wishes is during wish granting ceremonies that the people are borderline rabid for. With good reason, it is their souls they’re thirsting for after all even if they don’t really know it.
However, Magnifico clearly doesn’t see it that way. He sees it as he’s given these people a wonderful safe haven from the horrors of the outside world where they can be whoever they want to be, do what they want to do, make what they want to make, and still all they see in him is a tool to fastpass to something else they want even more than the peace he’s given them.
This is clearly shown early on, before any of his evil behavior starts to take root, in relation to his assistants. We get a expo dump after the first song telling us that Asha wants to become one of his assistant to increase the odds of her grandfather’s wish being granted as there is a correlation between past assistants and having wishes granted. Something important here is that there have clearly been many assistants, suggesting that it’s a revolving door position without really explaining why. Who would want to keep finding assistants over and over again, when really you should find someone who could do the job long term right? Well we get to find out the likely reason when Asha steps up for the role.
When Asha comes to interview for his assistant position he sees she is nervous, he tries to calm her down, and he even manages to relate to her through fond memories of her kindly father who he clearly knew. After seeing her true resolve to do good he decides to trust her with something few people in the entire kingdom get to see, the vault of wishes. To which Asha doesn’t even hesitate to ask, after politely being told not to prior, if he’ll grant her grandfather’s wish.
Magnifico is blatantly stricken by her request, sadly remarking that most people at least wait a few months before doing so a.k.a pretend to be interested in helping him rather than trying to use him to grant a wish. This is likely why the assistant job is a revolving door. Magnifico tries to find someone who he thinks will truly and selflessly fulfill the role only to discover time and again that people are just using it to get direct access to him to ask for a wish. Then he can’t trust their true intentions anymore and moves them along.
After Asha makes her request he does take the time to look at her grandfather’s wish but dismisses it as too dangerous because it is the vague desire to inspire the next generation. Clearly we as the audience know that her grandfather means to inspire them to do good, but we have to remember Magnifico has seen the worst of society. He has seen the darkest wishes and desires of mankind and survived them. He brushes Asha off telling her she’s too young to understand, which is honestly true. She’s lived her entire life cloistered in peace and comfort thanks to him and the rules he has made. She has never had to know war, strife, or hardship thanks to him, yet she doubts his decision without understanding the trauma that guides it. This is what I believe pushes Magnifico into his villain arc, something that I don’t think we’ve ever really witnessed in a Disney movie.
Usually a villain already is the villain by the time the film rolls around, even the twist villains. Lotso had already been deliberately sentencing other toys to torture. Prince Hans was already planning to murder his way to a throne. Evelyn was already plotting her revenge. Magnifico wasn’t though. He was the hero. He had saved his wife and a whole city’s worth of people from whatever drove them from the mainlands. He wasn’t physically abusing/mistreating people like Gaston even if he was vainly basking in their adoration.
When Asha pushes him on the wishes he pulls back from her, identifying her in his mind as a threat and treats her as one. He dismisses her and tells her that her family’s wishes will never be granted by him, but he will still keep them safe as he has been doing. Essentially meaning nothing will change for her from what it has been. You know a happy loving existence of complete acceptance and wholesome family life or as Asha interprets it, a fate worse than death.
His interaction with Asha triggers him, as she’s pushed at the flaws in his reasoning for holding onto the wishes. The flaws are true, but his mind is clouded by fear of a lack of control, likely stemming from the horrors he witnessed in his childhood when he had no control. He also likely has a bit of an addiction to the warm fuzzies that the wishes give on top of his fears. While he’s ruminating on that some massive wave of magic blows through the kingdom and messes with the thing he’s already stressed beyond reason about, the wishes.
Magnifico frantically searches for any answer, even considering a dangerous tome of forbidden magic that he knows is trouble before his wife manages to talk him down.
The fact that he could even be talked down rather than ignoring her outright shows that Magnifico does have good in him. He’s just reacting out of a genuine panic. His panic is only worsened by huge mob continuing to beg him for wishes in exchange for doing what should be the selfless act of defending their kingdom from what is essentially perceived as an attack. Not having any faith left in his people he turns back to the evil book to give him the key to stopping this perceived attack.
Just to be clear King Magnifico goes to the big bad evil book not to gain more power for funsies, but to try to find a way to stop a perceived threat. Everything he does from this point on, such as threatening his wife, can no longer be fairly tied to him, because as the movie repeatedly tells us he is under the EVIL book’s influence. His wife even looks through the same book to try and see if there is a way to break the sway she knows it has over him, but says she can’t because the EVIL book said no.
Yada yada yada and Magnifico is sealed inside a magic mirror and smugly told to rot in the dungeon by his previously loving wife.
Seriously?! What the heck?! This guy was the perfect candidate for rehabilitation. He wasn’t flawless, but he wasn’t a murderous psycho like most of the other Disney villains. Disney loves to preach kindness, acceptance, and good will with their heroes, but never does it allow the message of change.
I was shocked going back through the catalogue and slowly realizing none of their villains, regardless of how tragic their origins are, are ever truly allowed a second chance. The hero may offer it, but the baddy never is truly expected to change or reform. Which is honestly super messed up to me. People make mistakes. Some can be small/insignificant, but some are big and do hurt people sometimes. That doesn’t mean they can’t change for the better.
Now I’m not saying every villain is redeemable or good, it’s just a bit surprising that for all the messages of kindness and acceptance we haven’t really gotten forgiveness in 100 years. Seeing the “bad guy’s punishment” just deeply bothered me this time. Probably because so much of the bad that Magnifico does is clearly a trauma response and as a punishment for not acting appropriately to said response he gets sentenced to eternity is magical cell.
#disney wish#wish 2023#king magnifico#wish magnifico#magnifico x amaya#queen amaya#amaya#wish king magnifico#wish asha#disney villains#100 years of disney
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unnecessary aang headcanons i have
he’s a really good singer and it surprises everyone when they hear him softly singing a song as he’s cooking a pie or something
the song is something he’s sung since he was a kid and it was written by one of his past lives (could be kuruk’s love letter but also maybe something else—also he doesn’t know it’s a song from one of his past lives and just assumes he heard it when he was really young)
he has a strong air nomad accent
whenever he uses kyoshi’s fans (during the show and after) it feels so scarily familiar that he can sometimes feel a second hand, one that’s larger and more slender than his, guiding the fan
he sometimes dreams a memory from a past life
the time around his birthday is one that brings him a strange sense of happiness and dread. he suspects it’s due to the fact that it’s the day he died and was reincarnated
one time he made a pie that was so similar to gyatso’s recipe that he couldn’t finish eating it after the first slice and had to lock himself in his room for an hour or two
sometimes he swears he can actually understand appa. not in a “i feel what you mean” kind of way but more in a “wait can i speak sky bison?!” kind of way. it doesn’t happen often but when it does it never ceases to shock him to his core
he makes miniature pies for momo
solving spirit world-related issues is actually his favorite part of his avatar duties. he doesn’t love it of course but he considers those jobs to be just the right level of difficult most of the time
his favorite color is blue (he’s a sap i’m sure you can guess why)
during their travels, sokka made him feel safe. idk it’s just something about that brother-like relationship they had and how an older brother can make you feel like everything’s going to be okay. sokka was that person for aang
bumi is the only person aang tells this to when bumi is having angst over being a non-bender. “your uncle made me feel safe even when we all knew i wasn’t”
he used to braid the nuns’ hair whenever he went to visit the eastern and western air temples and uses this experience to learn how to do katara’s hair
he braids kya’s hair. it’s his favorite thing to do ever
the worst recurring nightmare he has is one where he’s standing in the middle of the southern air temple on the day of sozin’s comet and he can’t move, meaning all he can do is just stand there and watch
every time he has that dream, he feels like a ghost of himself the following day, just an empty shell of fake happiness and positivity
in a modern celebrity au where there’s no avatar, he’d be a professional airball athlete
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