#prequel to play us a song

[edupunkn00b]

Variations on a Sin, Ch. 1: Envy

Envy - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Written for @intrulogicalweek's, The Seven Deadly Sins 2022 creative event.

“Excellent! That’s excellent, Remus.” The steady click clack of the metronome matched the rhythm of Logan's nods. He almost paused, one hand raised as he listened to his newest student reach a particularly difficult spot in the piece. It had taken Logan over a year to master it and he was ready to stop Remus and have him try it again at a slower tempo. Practice makes permanent and rushing over mistakes in an effort to play the piece continuously at the proper speed would only reinforce the errant notes.

Remus’ hands flew over the keys without missing a single note and Logan stopped keeping time with the metronome. His student finished the piece, then turned on the piano bench and looked up at Logan, big green eyes bouncing over his features as though trying to guess his response.

“That was incredible,” he said simply. Remus’ face exploded in a grin and he practically danced in his seat. Logan continued to stare at him, brow furrowed.

“Let’s try it again without the sheet music,” he said, closing the book propped up on the little music stand.

“Yeah, I told you… I can’t sight read,” Remus mumbled. He gnawed at the edge of his mustache as he looked down at the floor. The knocking of his neon green Docs against each other had the same syncopated beat as the opening bars of the piece he'd just played. “That’s why I wanted lessons.”

Logan frowned and put away the music book. “Yes, I recall that’s what you said.” Remus looked up at him, his expression indecipherable. “However I find it difficult to believe you were able to play that entire section by memory.”

“Oh,” the small voice was out of place coming from the well over 6’ tall man. “Well, I suppose I should just play it again, then.”

Logan crossed his arms in front of his chest and briefly wished he’d asked for cash payment up front for this lesson. Anyone who would try to manipulate him with such theatrics was certain to skip out on the invoice. Or bounce a check. He sighed and gestured for the man to play again, ready for this charade to be over.

When Logan had answered the door at precisely 2:55 for a new student lesson, he’d been surprised by the hulking man standing on his doorstep. He’d looked around him and over his shoulder down the path, expecting a sullen child in tow. Instead the man’s face split into a huge, lopsided grin and he offered his hand. “Hey, I’m Remus. Are you Logan Sanders?”

Logan looked up at the man, one eyebrow raised. “You are Remus Hyde?” He shook his hand. Remus’ hand was warm and his long, slender fingers gripped with unexpected strength. “I was expecting a child for a beginner’s lesson,” he murmured, but still, stepped aside and welcomed him in with a small wave of his arm.

“Yeah, that’s not a problem, is it?” Logan blinked at the uncertainty in his voice but nodded quickly.

“No, of course not.”

After Remus had explained that he was, in fact, a professional jazz musician who could play by ear but had never learned to sight read or any proper music theory, Logan began to play bits of various pieces for him to attempt. He sought to identify the outer edges of Remus’ innate ability to set a baseline for their lessons.

Piece after piece, Remus was able to listen to the music and recreate it on the piano. Logan continued to find more complex pieces until finally, he played Beethoven’s Sonata 29. He nearly winced at the opening bars, palms sweaty and heart racing, his own struggles with the piece generating a near Pavlovian stress response. He stopped the recording after the first ten minutes and Remus asked to hear it again, then he began to play.

Remus played beautifully and perfectly. No, not entirely perfectly . He added small flourishes where they didn’t belong, and he played the same three bars twice in succession. But it was lovely. And so Logan had waited until Remus reached the part he’d fought with the most and his student simply breezed past the difficult section.

Cold, slimy envy churned in his stomach when he thought about the hours and hours he’d spent on that single 16-bar section alone. He shook his head. It simply wasn’t possible. But when he removed the sheet music, Remus played the piece again, just as beautifully as before.

“Slide over,” Logan instructed, sharper than he’d intended but he was too annoyed at whatever game this man was playing to apologize. He began to play one of his own compositions. It had never been published and he’d never had the courage to play it before an audience. This man couldn’t possibly have heard it before today.

Logan hadn’t finished the first movement before Remus started picking out a harmony in the very lowest octave. He stopped playing and stared at his confounding student. Remus smiled back. “That’s beautiful. That’s not more Beethoven, though, is it?”

“Can you play it?” was the only response Logan could pull from his brain as he stood, relinquishing the keys. Remus began slowly, incorporating the new harmony, but he’d recreated the melody perfectly.

When he finished, he smiled up at Logan. “So what piece was that?”

Logan blinked down at him, a slow smile blooming on his face.

“Mine.”

#Variations on a Sin #ts logan #ts remus #Logan Sanders #Remus Hyde #human AU #part of the Love and Madness series #prequel to Play Us a Song #intrulogicalweek2022 #intrulogical #slow burn #okay slow(ish) burn #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction

[astrxealis]

i love final fantasy so much i might go insane

#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚ #urgggfhfgfh listening to distant worlds 6 ... battle theme medley. i heard the ff1 and started Crying already oh fuck this #i can listen to cosmo canyon (i loveu red) and then just start cryying it's insane actually. what reason do i have to cry from that #i am Ignoring the #. the uhm. #the eternal wind one bcs i will be uncontrollable (in sobbing) ..... Man! #idk man i missed this :( haven't been self-indulgent w any interests aside from acads for the past months (which is cool but also) !!!!! #ff1 to 16 and then the spin-offs and sequels and prequels and other games i love you all #will always rmbr my super cool adoptive-tito (he is. american LMFAO gay friend of my super cool aunt so he kinda got adopted into the family #when he went w her on vacation here) who is insane w the piano and played. mario and ff songs for us. #aerith's theme.... oughhh....... rufus' welcoming ceremony and esp uh #the battle theme i forgpt the name of atm. Insane! amazing

[leahswife]

the in-betweens

summary: in which you and aitana go from normal best friends to best friends who kiss.

a/n: this is the before of "where do we stand". gotta post some aitana fluff after all the jenni filth. i'm sorry if this feels rushed but i just couldn't find any more ways to describe the goddamn act of kissing 😭

prequel, part one, part two, part three

"ven a bailar conmigo, porfaaa." aitana begged as she grabbed your hand. 

"no no no aita–" you tried to protest but the girl's strong arms pulled you up from your seat, in the direction of the dance floor. you looked back at where you were seated besides caro and marta, sending them a pleading look to save you. they sent you an apologetic look but knew even they couldn't reason with a buzzed energetic aitana. you groaned at being dragged, you weren't in the mood for drinks tonight and you pretty content sitting next to the calm couple.

you don't know where aitana managed to find so much energy to party after a long game. but she did. and insisted on trying to force some of it into your worn out body.

you danced for a while, aitana screaming along to the spanish songs playing. you were unable to keep your frown on, with a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you saw how happy she was.

she finally calmed down and wrapped her arms around your neck which made you comfortable enough to wrap yours around her waist, pulling her closer. you felt like your heart could combust with how close she was. she was breathless and clearly still high on a buzz when she got closer to your ear to shout "quiero besarte!" you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not quite understanding what she said, a mix of language barrier and loud music not allowing you to. she grabbed the back of your neck to pull you closer and shouted again, "i want to kiss you!" she smiled excitedly.

you felt like your eyes couldn't grow wider if you wanted to, shocked at what you just heard. "you want to kiss me?" you asked her, disbelief in your voice. she just nodded with a happy smile and kept on dancing like she just didn't drop those 'too drunken' news on your 'too sober' self.

you went along with her wishes for a while but the pressing of sweaty bodies against you was starting to make you uncomfortable and so you got closer to aitana to shout in her ear, "i'm tired, tana. i'm going!" she nodded, starting to get drained too and both of you went back to your friends' table to gather your stuff. she tripped a bit on her own feet and you quickly put your hand on her waist to steady her, "okay, i'm taking you home." you say as you grab her stuff for her, she just giggled and let you take the lead, "at least take me to dinner first."

once you got to her house, you search for her keys in her purse and open the door, planting your hand on her back to guide her inside.

"so much better." you let out as you relished in the warmth of aitana's apartment, compared to the night's relentless cold outside. you turned to aitana to see her shivering in her dress, holding tightly onto her jacket.

"aitanita, go change into your pajamas." you rubbed up and down her arms and she nodded, "you can use my pajamas too" she suggested quietly, sleepiness taking over her.

"oh that's okay, i can go ba–"

"i'd like for you to stay." she whispered, looking up at you. she was sobering up by now and you could see it in her eyes there was something she needed to let out. did she remember what she said earlier? about you two kissing? she could really just let it go and blame it on the alcohol but you knew aitana felt the need to carefully explain any behaviour that could come across as weird. so you nodded. you went to grab her pajamas and got ready in her bathroom while she got dressed in her bedroom.

when you walked in, aitana was sprawled in her bed, dead asleep. you looked at her for a moment, heart beating slightly faster at the thought that your best friend might like you back. anyway, that was something for you to obsess over later. you chuckled at her figure and tucked her in, pulling the warm covers over her. you grabbed a blanket and made yourself comfortable on her couch.

–

"why did you sleep on the couch?!" 

you groaned and reluctantly opened your eyes as a scolding aitana woke you up.

"you don't have a guest room." you mumbled sleepily.

"so you should've slept in my bed." she crossed her arms.

"hm. couldn't disturb your beauty sleep." you put one arm over your eyes to keep away the light.

"idiota." you heard aitana mutter under her breath as she continued to throw complaints in catalan at you.

"aita, aita, aita" you repeated in hopes of interrupting her, in which you were successful, resulting in aitana shutting her mouth but not without sending you a scowl.

"qué?"

"has anyone ever told you that you're extremely loud and talk way–" you're interrupted by her rolling her eyes and moving towards the kitchen, ignoring you, "-- way too fast!" you yelled after her.

soon after, you feel a body sit down next your lying one. you opened your eyes to see aitana offering you a plate with fruit and eggs and some orange juice. you sit up, a smile forming on your face. "you didn't have to."

"eat." 

"bossy."

"as i speak."

you looked at her, getting slightly anxious at what was about to come next. but you nodded and started diving into your plate.

"i said something last night." she started, hesitantly. you nodded again, focusing more on your plate rather than looking at her so she wouldn't feel so much on the spot.

"i didn't– i don't want to make you uncomfortable with what i said."

"did you mean it though?" you finally lift your gaze towards her. 

"i– i did mean it. but i don't know what that means for me. if that makes sense." aitana was looking at her hands, fidgeting with them. this was clearly a sensitive topic. you noticed her breathing starting to get irregular and you put your plate and glass on the coffee table so you could get closer to her.

"i just don't want to lose you and i'm sorry if i made things awkward or different–" she started rambling the same time her tears started flowing down her cheeks. you pulled her into a hug and held her tight, "hey, tana–" "i don't want you to look at me differently or avoid me–" she was trying to control her breathing at this point, so you grabbed her cheeks, "aitana. stop." you said firmly, trying to ground her. she finally regained control of her breath and looked at you with slightly red eyes. 

"aitana, i can assure you that you wanting to kiss me is not a problem. at all. i don't feel weird or uncomfortable or whatever. hell, i feel flattered that aitana bonmatí wants to kiss me." you winked at her, trying to lighten up the mood. she giggled and wiped her nose. you felt relieved when you saw the smile back in her face, "i know this is probably overwhelming for you right now and you have a lot to discover on your own. but i can't lie and say i don't want to kiss you either." 

she looked up at you, eyes wide at your confession. 

"but if that's something you're not ready to explore, let's leave it at that and let it go."

–

and you did. let it go, that is. for a little while.

none of you spoke about it. you figured aitana should be the one to bring it up when she's prepared, so you went back to normal. as if nothing happened.

until it did.

–

you and almost the whole barça team were hanging out at mapi and ingrid's house for bonding night. you had played a few games and were now gathered around the living-room, watching a movie.

you were sitting at one of the ends of the couch, with aitana cuddling you by your side. you'd often whisper things to her to explain some scene from the movie or make some joke about what was happening. you'd do anything to see her smile and give you her absolutely lovable giggle.

at one point she nudged you to face her. "hm?" you asked, highly aware of how close your faces were. "i'm going to take a nap, wake me up when it's over." she whispered and you could feel her breath on your lips, which was far too intoxicating. you could simply nod and try to not look at her lips. 

she smiled as a thank you and flicked her eyes to your lips before gazing back up at you. you felt her inhale a short breath before looking down at your lips again and moving closer, pressing her own against the corner of your mouth. if your heart wasn't beating fast before, it definitely was now.

you started at each other, both understanding that that changed something.

she leaned her head on your shoulder again to try and take her nap but there was no way aitana was able to fall asleep now with the thundering in her chest.

–

the ride back to aitana's house was silent. there was unspoken tension between you two and you both knew it.

you got out of your car and walked her over to her door, not quite sure what to say and feeling like a teenager with a crush who's just dropped her date off at home and doesn't know what to do.

you huffed in frustration. the silence was killing you and you had to do something about it. you stepped closer to aitana and carefully cupped her cheeks, looking at her as if asking for permission. she didn't pull away so you leaned in, noses touching, you giving her another chance to back out if she wanted to.

she didn't. so you took your chance and softly pressed your lips against hers. 

you honestly didn't know how to describe it. it was tentative, gentle, delicate but - comfortable? like your lips were always meant to touch hers and knew exactly how to move against hers as if you've kissed a hundred times before. 

after what felt like ages to you but were actually seconds, aitana kisses you back. you keep kissing for a few more moments before you pull back, hands still cupping the catalan's cheeks and stare at her, breathless.

"i swear, aitana, if you still don't speak after that i–" you're cut off by her sweet little giggle before she presses multiple kisses on your lips. "you want to come in?" she asks, biting her lip to try and keep her grin from widening even further.

"damn, bonmatí. a girl gives you a finger and you want the whole arm." you shook your head in fake disapproval.

"callate." she grabbed your hand and pulled you in. 

the rest of the night was spent with you two letting your lips and tongues explore each other's mouths. it started off as shy and tender but as comfort and boldness started to settle in, your kisses got harder and provocative.

however, no matter how much your hands and lips delved into each other, no labels were defined. 

and they wouldn't be for the next months to come.

–

a routine started to settle in. you would show up at each other's houses for "best friend's night" and it always ended up with you locking lips. whether it was while aitana was cooking or when she beat you at a board game and you wanted to shut her up.

the same conversation also started to settle in between make out sessions. "just friends, right?" aitana would whisper breathlessly against your lips, and you would nod, agreeing with whatever she wanted so you could press your lips against hers again and again.

"i just," she would cut herself off to kiss you, "can't be," kiss, "in a relationship right now." kiss. you would agree because you would accept anything aitana would give you, no matter how small or little it could be.

you couldn't keep off of each other even at training, with you often pulling her inside closets so you could press her against the wall and muffle her giggles with your mouth. or when she would drag you into the changing room while others were at lunch to playfully bite your lips and leave you winded up.

but aitana was a busy person. she had family, friends and her career to focus on. but all she seemed to focus on now was you. and that was starting to worry her. she never had to make room for someone else in her life since starting her career, except for the casually meeting friends once in a while and visiting her family when she could. but to share everything with someone?

so she started to pull away, she wouldn't reach out to you during trainings, choosing to focus on getting there earlier for gym sessions and staying after to practice some more. this was her life, this was her focus. it had to be. so the "best friend's nights" started to disappear as well, aitana claiming she was too tired after trainings. and she was, she really was. as much as she trained, she didn't feel as fulfilled as before. the more she pulled away from you, the less accomplished she felt. but she also pulled these feelings away.

football was once her entire life. and it would be again.

#aitana bonmati #woso x reader #aitana bonmati x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #aitana bonmati imagine #barca femeni x reader

[love-belle]

we caught that holiday glee !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which it doesn't take a genius to know that they're actually the icons.

or

for when you want to spend all of your christmases with them. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - you got me thinking nonsense ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - hahahahaha hiiii!!!! im so SORRY for being absent i've been going insane over school 😭😭😭 it's all just a mess rn (IM IN LOVEEEEE I MET THIS GUY) and hopefully, i can post often but still, i can't promise anything!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES <3 i hope ur all doing okay!!!! i love u all so much :)

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,417,916 others

yourusername here's a lil carol i wrote it's abt u and me 🎀

11,628 comments

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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charles_leclerc we caught that holiday glee

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#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff

[slavghoul]

Interview from Sweden Rock Magazine 10/2023

Hi, hi. There is an interview with Tobias in SRM’s newest issue, but it’s in the subscribers only section, so I thought I’d translate/share since I guess not many people will be able to get their hands on it. It is about Prequelle and it’s part of SRM’s „200 best Swedish hard rock albums of all time” series. Prequelle placed #68. The other albums may have scored higher, but for now we don’t know the whole list. Either way, enjoy. Very insightful. 

„Do you think that "Prequelle" is Ghost's worst album?” Now that’s an unusual opening question. Especially when the interview is about an album that Sweden Rock Magazine's writers and qualified Swedish hard rock musicians (including Tobias Forge) have voted as one of the 200 best Swedish hard rock albums of all time. The question wasn’t planned, but comes spontaneously, as a reaction to the first thing Tobias Forge says when we sit down on opposite sofas in the record company office. I'm here for a two-part interview, partly about the EP "Phantomime" (published in #6 2023), partly about "Prequelle". Neither record companies, artists, voters, nor even our writers who conduct interviews for this series of articles have any idea what placement an album has received. Interviews are often done well in advance and we simply don't want placements to leak and become public long before publication.

No Ghost album has ever been on the list before. The idea is actually to end the day with the "Prequelle" talk, but when Tobias Forge suddenly starts with a funny little comment that this album is probably the one that those who have voted think is Ghost's worst or least popular album, I just have to take the opportunity to ask the question: Do you think that "Prequelle" is Ghost's worst album?

No, absolutely not, he says and laughs. If I'm going to be completely pragmatic, I'd say: "How many songs do we actually play from that record?" There are songs that work damn well live and sit where they should. So it's a pretty strong album.

But is this what you are basing it on? "Prequelle" was released after Ghost had become really big so it can't be compared to "Opus Eponymous" and "Infestissumam" which you don't play many songs from. I mean, no matter what kind of record you had released when "Prequelle" came out, you would still have played many songs from it and they would have worked precisely because Ghost's songs nowadays are moulded more to the arena format.

I don't know how to answer that, it's difficult. If the album had been different, it would have been. If I'm going to talk somehow both artistically and practically, I know that for every record we have become exponentially bigger. "Prequelle" was definitely no exception, but it also took us a big step forward and upwards and we became bigger and broader. To the extent that when we introduce old songs in the live set, you notice that there are elements on albums one and two that make some songs more difficult to play. Not technically, we can play the songs, but they don't work in quite the same way as the later songs, which means that there is a slight favouritism.

I asked the original question about whether you think it's Ghost's worst album only because you directly said that this means it's the least popular one.

I'm just so full of myself I assumed all the other albums are also in the top 200, which may actually be incorrect. This might be the best album and the others aren't even there, haha.

It wasn't long after "Prequelle" was released that you were self-critical of the album in interviews, saying that it was too ballad-heavy and a bit too soft. I haven't noticed that before, you being so self-critical shortly after the release.

Yes, but I still feel that way. If, as an artist, I am only going to look at the work with the criticism that one can feel towards one's own work, I think that if things had been different or if I had more time, I might have wished that I had managed to get maybe two more hard songs. Maybe one more hard song would have fit on the album and another harder song might have phased out one of the ballads. Now five years after the album came out, I know that the two ballads ("Pro Memoria" and "Life Eternal"), which I may not think are bad, are one too many. But I know that many of the people who like the band like both of them, so it's kind of a useless argument.

Who sets the length of an album? Have you set a limit, that it can't be longer than this and have no more songs than that?

No, but it must fit on an LP disc and there is a physical limit. I think the absolute pain threshold is 46 minutes and that's 23 minutes on each side. Now maybe Mikkey Dee (co-owner of Spinroad Vinyl Factory) will raise his hand here: "But I can make it longer!" And it's maybe 48 minutes, I don't know, but I do know that when a disc starts getting so full that you start getting close to the sticker, it starts to sound bad. Especially nowadays, because recordings today are so very maximalist in scope. It's one thing if you record 60s music with drums, a guitar and bass where the sound is cleaner and finer or if you play acoustic stuff with just vocals. Bob Dylan records could have eight songs on each side and it worked all the way through. But this kind of fairly compact music doesn't work well. Not only am I a militant vinyl advocate, I think we should respect the fact that most artists don't manage to create more than 45 minutes of good music on a regular basis. A lot of famous double records are not that good. I don't think the Rolling Stones "Exile On Main St" is very good. It might as well have been on one disc. And if I'm actually going to turn it into something completely mundane, I'd say that I think it's irresponsible to sit and make records with twelve songs if it results in the record being 63 minutes long and you automatically have to make a double record. It's pretty wasteful.

When you said that it's irresponsible, I thought you were going to say that it's irresponsible to print a double vinyl because of the environmental destruction that it entails.

Of course, if we're going to be completely straightforward and not do anything that harms nature, we shouldn't even release any records, so I say this with reservation. But with that in mind and for the sake of art, I think more people should embrace the actual given format that has been the most prevalent in rock history. There is a reason why a film is usually one hour and 30 minutes. You can’t take any more. There's a certain dramaturgical structure and there’s a certain comfort in it. Then the CDs came along they screwed that up, and suddenly there weren't two sides anymore but it started one way and ended another. Now that the CD is no longer important and we've gone back to vinyl, creators should follow suit and start embracing the physical rules.

Are there songs that have been rounded off just because you thought „I have to round off here, because if I continue, it won't fit on the vinyl disc"?

We actually had that problem on the last album. „Watcher In The Sky” ended the A-side and the outro is much longer on the CD and digitally. Two minutes longer I think. Much, much, much longer. It's long, noisy and has all these dives. It's a very chaotic soundscape. You get the feeling that it goes on and on, and on the vinyl it's just the beginning of an outro and then it drops almost immediately. I think that was a huge mistake.

So the overall sound quality was more important than vinyl buyers getting everything? Because you could have pressed the vinyl and it would have fit, but you would have had to compromise the sound quality.

Yes, exactly. You can get the song to just keep going until the vinyl simply runs out. Then it just starts spinning in the middle, depending on what kind of record player you have. But the problem then, if you want to anticipate events at a creative stage, is that people today buy and listen to vinyl records and are sensitive. It's quite common for people to complain that the record is broken. I don't just mean our records, but people complain a lot about the presses. If you make ten songs, it's therefore stupid to have a too thick soundscape towards the end of song number five and song number ten. If you want to be really good and old school, that's where you put a piano ballad because it's an easier sound to handle so far into the record. This is what I think about when I make records. But clearly sometimes I miscalculate.

This must cut right through the record collector Tobias Forge's whole body and soul, that "Watcher In The Sky” is shortened by two minutes on the vinyl of all versions.

Well... I don't toss and turn and wake up in the middle of the night thinking about it anymore. But when it happened, I was livid. Luckily it was just an outro. It would have been worse if it had continued with some kind of narrative into the next song. Now I can't remember in my head how long "Prequelle" is, but if I'd had to go back in time and just re-construct it, the re-construction wouldn't have had much to do with the existing material, I would have just wanted to add a scene. And it's not a scene that's missing, it's just for the sake of balance. It became asymmetrical in a way that bothers me a bit.

You've talked about this before, but it was before "Prequelle" that you really started to talk a lot about how you were thinking about what kind of new songs might suit the live show. Can you get stuck in that mindset, thinking more about what songs are needed live right now rather than creating an album that will last 30 years?

Hmm... (long pause)... The reason I'm sitting here thinking is because I'm trying to come up with examples of other bands that I think might have gone through something similar. I’m looking for examples to the answer I'm about to formulate and that is that: yes, I think there comes a point in the career when most bands make a record because they simply feel they need to… Because what we're talking about is that when you go from playing in small smoky clubs in front of an already inveterate audience that already understands the perhaps a little more chewy expression, that experience can change if you start playing in front of a larger and especially a different type of audience. When a different type of audience comes and you play in a different format, you discover that this song doesn't work very well, it doesn't sound very good and it's difficult to get the sound right. Then there's usually a record or two or three during your career when this transition happens where you start filling in with songs that work better live. Look at Piece of mind", "Powerslave" and "Somewhere in time". There's a reason why Iron Maiden didn't play a lot of the first two albums there and then, because it was easier to play the new songs. You get to that point somewhere in your career and it's very difficult to say when it is - there's no given rule and there are artists who continue to release relevant records and have an amazing ability to release new records and just play the whole new record. Well, now Iron Maiden does that and tests their audience a little bit in that way, but then they will always compensate by doing like a "best of" set the following year so everything is forgiven. Now we're in the middle of the "Impera" period here and have a very strong set, but I'm starting to feel that now that I'm about to start writing a new album, it feels like it's not really on my agenda to write three more albums that will change the live setlist ten years ahead. I think we already have the blueprint for what is Ghost's setlist, especially if you include the entire catalogue. After a while, each new record you make becomes a little less important. It's really hard to know when that point comes, but the truth is that new records don't matter in the same way. Slayer didn't have to release "Divine Intervention”. They definitely didn't have to release "Diabolus In Musica". I didn't care about it and I just wanted to hear the old stuff. If they had just come up and played "Reign In Blood" I would have been soooo happy. And that's the way it is with most bands. Nobody would be sad if the Rolling Stones came up and didn't play anything from "Emotional Rescue". And that's just the way it is. In the future, I can see a scenario where there is probably a basis to possibly build up an alternative setlist. There are so many songs that we do not play and that I have nothing against - I love them too! But it would almost be easier to build up a completely alternative setlist and run a show with only the odd songs. There are so many songs now. There's no reason not to build on that. But when I want to make a new record, it's irresponsible for me not to consider that there might have to be some songs that are a bit more direct. But it doesn't hurt me if we have more songs that we don't play live. I don't know if this answers your question...

I would actually like to ask exactly the same question again, because I wonder if you yourself feel that you get stuck during the making of the record. You said that you would have liked to include another hard song because "Prequelle" doesn't have the balance that you would have liked to have in retrospect.

Exactly, but the explanation for that has more to do with my mental capacity there and then. I simply couldn't cope. I felt that I had probably maxed out… It was probably about as much as I could do that year. That's the simple explanation. To get another song that would have fit and that would have fulfilled this requirement that I now in retrospect would have wished I had, it would have required something that I did not have there and then. The only thing that could have made it easier is if I had more time. It is difficult to reason about it, you see.

I was in the studio for a few days during the recording and it's one of the few times in all these years that I've done interviews where someone has started crying during an interview. It was quite obvious that everything that had happened with the split of the band affected you.

Yes. Of course. It did.

Is "Prequelle" a difficult album to listen to for you? Can you sit and listen to it all the way through? 

Well, at the moment I have to do that from time to time, and listen to all the records, because we're just about to start rehearsing again and then I sometimes have to go back and just listen to the record to go: "Fuck, is that really how I sing?" Especially when we start rehearsing, I can be a bit like: "Damn, who changed this bit?” Then I usually sit down and it hits me: "Oh, it's me who has changed my song!" You simply do that over the years, you start singing it in a slightly different way. So sometimes I have to go back and listen, but it’s more practical. I don't think it's fun to listen them. I do it until they are finished. I listen over and over and over again and really try to listen with all the imaginary ears and all the imaginary perspectives you can have. "How would I have listened to this if I had heard it from this perspective?" Just to get as "objective" a perspective as I can until I'm satisfied, but then it's like „No, I don't want to hear this anymore". But I have to say that I think "Prequelle" is a very tolerable disc despite everything that interfered with the process. Therapeutically, it works quite well considering that we are still playing at least half of the album. For every artist there are songs that you want to play, and there are songs that you don’t want to play because they feel too personal. I don't feel that way about this one, it's more like: "Ah hell, they're part of the setlist and people like it and it sounds good. So that's what we're doing."

On a personal level, was Tom Dalgety the perfect producer for you, the way you were feeling at the time? Tom feels like the kindest, sweetest producer you can meet. He wasn't the kind of producer who pushed you very much, it was more of a nice atmosphere between you.

Yes, really, and it would have been different if Klas Åhlund, who is more confrontational, had been in the room. Now Klas and I are great mates, so it would certainly have been very therapeutic also, but it would have been a different process. If an artist comes in who is in such bad shape that they can't make a record, or a band where the main songwriter has just left them, then a Bob Ezrin goes in and says: "If you don't make the record, I'll make the record myself.” And he goes and makes Kiss "Destroyer" or Alice Cooper records. I'm not saying they didn't make them, just that you hear that Bob Ezrin made "Beth". It's a type of producer that's very different from a lot of other producers who maybe act a little bit more like buddies and cheerleaders and make the atmosphere good. Bob Ezrin doesn't care so much about the atmosphere in the room. Klas is somewhere in between, I would say. Given the condition I was in during "Prequelle", the result could probably have been different if Klas had come in. Ironically, there was actually talk of him doing it, but he didn't have the time and we'll never know how it would have turned out. I only know that it would have been different, but right there and then Tom was fantastic. I know that a lot of bands like to work with him because he is technically brilliant. He's really good at those typical sounds that people like: cool drums, guitar, bass, tone and clarity. He is also very "happy go lucky", a nice guy who sits and jokes all the time. Even if he has a bad day, it doesn't affect anyone else, which is convenient.

Let me compare it to when a writer contacts me after an interview and says "that was such a nice interview". For me, "nice" is not something positive in such a work situation and the result is often better when there is a little friction.

Mmm, and that is more Klas. There is more friction and more confrontation. And I was much better equipped for that at "Meliora" and later at "Impera". I felt better and was simply stronger. There wasn't the same survival instinct as on "Prequelle". If I think back, not about how the album turned out and how I have to live with it, but if I think back to the situation I was in, I was very anxious all the time. Even though I'm happy with the result, I wouldn't want to go through the recording again, even though Tom was great. Because it's hard to work when you're under attack. I realised that now when I made "Impera", when it was no longer like that. You are much more comfortable, it doesn't feel the same, you are more mature, you make better decisions, you are more controlled or dare to be uncontrolled. When things are this serious, you can end up in a freeze mode. Maybe that's also why there wasn't another song. The song that I miss doesn't exist because I simply squeezed out everything I had. If I had been in a different emotional state, I might have been more comfortable working out something at the last second from bits and pieces. But I felt that I really just wanted to get it done, deliver it, get back out on tour and start over again.

When you described being more mature during "Impera" you sounded like a 70-year-old, kind of like all the Aerosmith-like bands that have been fighting all their lives and now that they're in their 70s they say "we're soooo mature,” haha.

I think with all artists, especially when they're required to work in a group, there are many recordings that have been a collision with a wall because you're expected to function in a context all the time, whatever and whenever. But you do change and from one year to a few years down the line there can be a huge difference in a person's drive, hunger and priorities in life. Whether you have the same band structure as I do or whether you play in Metallica, people come in one state and they may end up in another, because you have different priorities at different times. It's unfortunately against the whole rock myth. I think that's the biggest problem for bands and businesses, that you always have this idea that if you just get to a certain stage - not just monetarily or career-wise, but you get to a certain stage of fun - then we've reached the status quo. But that is never the case! Never! There’s always something. Even in the best moments when everything is working, the band is awesome, everyone is working well, the crew is awesome, everyone is laughing, it's just a party all the time mentally, you have the world's best tour manager, everything is flowing and the tickets are selling, there will always be someone who doesn't like it and then has to break away and want to do their thing because it's no longer fun. It's usually somewhere in the lead-up to a stage where it's interesting and then once you've achieved it, it all becomes a bit boring. Just like in a relationship some people may eventually think, "well, that's a bit boring, I have to go out and do something else".

Since I was in the studio when you were laying down guitars on "Witch Image", my heart beats a little extra for that song and I thought it would be a great live song, but you've barely played it (at the time of writing it's Ghost's forty-fourth most played song live).

We did it during the "Prequelle" tour, or "A Pale Tour Named Death" as it was called. Then we did quite a few "an evening with" concerts, for better or worse. The advantage was that if you were a big fan of the band we actually played a lot of songs and actually a lot of the first albums, like "Idolatrine" - or "Witch Image". We did a set, a break and then a whole other set. That was a bit of a taste of what I was talking about earlier: doing a slightly larger set and then a slightly smaller one. You just shouldn't do it on the same night because it gets a bit stale. We played for two hours and 30 minutes or something and that wasn’t a good idea, haha. At least we did "Witch Image", but it has fallen behind a bit and it doesn't mean that we will never play it again, just that we don't do it right now. What I've been happy about is that there has been a feeling for the records that we've made recently, "Prequelle" and "Impera", that people still want to hear the new stuff. We haven't gotten to that stage that I talked about earlier when it doesn't matter anymore. Then it's very fun to try to find a new way to perform the songs, not technically, but suddenly a song like "Witch Image" might fulfill a very nice purpose between a completely new song and another song.

Let me speculate: in 30 years, I think "Rats" will be considered the great hard rock song, "Dance Macabre" the great hit and "Life Eternal" the great ballad. What do you think? Will this in the future be seen as the three big songs of the album?

Yes, that makes sense, I think. I understand that an instrumental song automatically ends up in the wake of a "best of" collection, in the sense that you do one in 30 years. I realise it's not a hit but the instrumental "Miasma" is a big part of our live show. It's strong and feels like such a keeper. Now we don't play "Life Eternal" very often actually, but it was very well received. For some reason people like to get married to it, I don’t know why, hehe. It's nice but it's also a bit like U2’s „I still haven't found what I'm looking for" and you don't use that one at a wedding. But people like it and I guess interpret it differently to me. It’s also a song that I don't think is fun to play live.

And why not?

Because I find it hard to play ballads. Physically, they don't feel the same as rock songs. I miss the "dunka dunka". Now everyone who plays music today knows what I mean - sorry, readers who don't play music - and it's that there's a small problem with having in-ear monitors. This means that you have to reach a certain frequency of beats in order to feel the music, unlike when you played at clubs with only a guitar amp behind you. You felt every single note you made and it just went through your body. Nowadays, I think it's sometimes hard when you play slow songs, because you have to trust that it sounds good, whereas when you play a rock song, you feel that it sounds good.

Does it also apply to "He Is” which is such a huge ballad, not least live?

Well, just the intro and then it gets going quite quickly and suddenly becomes a hard and rather fast-paced song. The classic ballad concept has always been that you play so-called edge beats to make it sound soft, while "He Is” is actually a rather hard-played song considering that it is a ballad. Once the drums come in – boom, boom – it's got AC/DC bite to it. It has a rock feel to it that "Life Eternal" doesn't really have. As I said, I don't think that "Life Eternal" is a lot of fun to perform, but that doesn't mean that it isn't quite good to listen to. It’s just that when I play "Dance Macabre" or "Mummy Dust" I feel that I can express myself physically more in line with what the text says and what it means.

#the band ghost #tobias forge #interview #prequelle era

[ayabeanworks]

Title: Can I meet you again?

Synopsis: AU in which Geto does not defect, but you do instead.

Character: SaShiSu x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: Literally just heavy angst & sadness. Mentions of death, murder, suicide and reincarnation. Heavy themes. Lots of swearing. Spoilers for JJK season 2 (anime).

Part 2 available here!

Prequel available here!

AU sequel available here!

The songs I had playing while writing this was: - Hero by Alan Walker (Probably played this one the most that it's at the top of my repeated songs Spotify list ☠️) - Apollo (Eurovision ver) by Timebelle - Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan

"Oh?"

Shoko stared at you as you waved at her with a bright smile, brows raising in surprise as she took out a new smoke in the Shinjuku smoking area.

You made your way over to her, finding that she wasn't pushing you away. It was good to see a friend after a while, but you weren't too sure if you had that privilege anymore.

For you, you were testing the waters.

"Hey, Shoko." You took out a lighter from your pocket, one-handedly opening it for her to light her cigarette.

"Fancy seeing you here. You need something from me?" She glanced into your direction, taking a shallow inhale and extending her exhale.

You hummed in reply. "Just testing my luck."

"So, just to be sure, are the claims false?"

"Unfortunately, they're true." You could only bring yourself to shrug lightly, looking ahead. From your peripherals, you could see her taking out her phone to call the others.

"Just to be sure again: why?"

"I want to create a world where jujutsu sorcerers don't have to struggle." You didn't elaborate.

"Wow, that's funny!" Shoko laughed lightly, but there really wasn't anything humourous behind it. It was as if she was contemplating asking more. After all, everyone and everything struggles, so what is this righteous talk from you?

"Do you think I'm wrong?" You asked, hearing the faint ringing of her phone as she waited for one of the others to pick up.

"Right or wrong, it was dumb." Shoko didn't even hold back on her words, making you genuinely laugh at how frank she was, regardless had you been granted a bounty.

"Gojo, Geto, [name]'s here with me in Shinjuku." Gojo seemed to say something on the other side, but Shoko retorted, "No way! I don't wanna die." She hung up after conveying her message.

"So, what will you do now?" She turned to you, exhaling a puff of smoke into a ring above her head.

"I don't know. I might see you around, I guess." You took a step forward, facing her. "See you later, Shoko." You knew Gojo and Geto would be here at any moment, but you didn't know if you wanted to face them.

Shoko didn't say anything in response, just watching as the ashes fell from the cigarette between her fingers.

You didn't see, but it was the first time Shoko has made an expression where she was at a loss of what to do.

And, that was the last time you saw Shoko.

"WAIT, [NAME]!" Satoru bellowed out to you as you walked away, in front of the KFC you all used to go to until recently.

He caught up pretty fast...where's Sugu? You sensed his curse energy, but you weren't sure where it was. As for Satoru, he was only a few metres away from you down the slope of the street.

You sighed inwardly, ready to face him. "'toru."

The nickname you usually call him by hurt him more this time around as he registered how unaffectionate your voice was, contrary to the usual. It was devoid of any emotion. Like you didn't care about what you left behind. Like you didn't care about him.

"Explain yourself, [name]!" He demanded, sunglasses further down his nose as he watched you with wide eyes full of emotions of all kinds, but you mainly picked out disbelief and anger.

"There's nothing else to say. You've heard from Shoko." You stated, watching the twitch in his face as he evaluated your dismissive answer.

"So you'll kill anybody who makes life hard for Jujutsu sorcerers? Both sorcerers and non-sorcerers?" Satoru's voice rose in anger.

After all, you did kill an elder a week ago. It was the one that'd been annoying you since forever, the one who tried to get you purposely killed each and every time you went on a mission. Killing him was much easier than you had imagined, though.

"Well, if natural selection isn't going to do anything, I might as well do it instead." You crack a light joke, but your words were serious.

"That's not what I'm asking! I thought you were against killing if there was no meaning to it?!"

"There's a meaning behind everything. A purpose, even."

"No there isn't! You want to make a world where Jujutsu sorcerers don't suffer? That's impossible!"

"Satoru's right, [name]." Geto spoke from behind you, his voice wafting through the air as he went to stand closer to Gojo as he faced you. "There's a purpose to everything, but there's a better way of doing things than say, homicide. Especially for us in the Jujutsu world."

You wanted to scoff. But, you couldn't, because you used to be that way, too. But everything ate away at you, and you just weren't the same person anymore with the same aligning morals. You chose to go down the path you've decided to go down, even if it meant deserting everything you knew before.

"Is it really impossible?" Your voice was light, but the lilt in it was undeniably laced with seriousness. "I wouldn't do this if there was a shred of impossible in it."

The alarm on their faces was really something.

"[name]...you'll need to fight us if you keep going down this path." Suguru spoke his words deliberately, slowly, like he was getting a child to listen to him. He was careful.

Satoru clenched his teeth and fists. He wanted to say that it was impossible yet again, that when you fight them, you'll lose. But, you knew that. You knew, so why?

"Wow, I'll get to fight the 2 strongest sorcerers!" You clapped your hands together once, a smile on your lips, one that didn't reach your eyes. "Maybe so, but you're not my targets. There's some smaller fish compared to you I must get rid of first."

"Why?" Geto voiced both Gojo and his thoughts, a quick glance at Satoru knew he wasn't going to be able to hold a proper conversation without shouting.

"Why?" You echoed his question. "Well, for starters, we're treated like shit, in both worlds regardless sorcerers or non-sorcerers. Do you remember? The elder I killed, he was truly one who deserved to die. The number of times he ignored protests, warnings and more...killing off our sorcerers one by one, do you really believe someone like him being alive is worth all that struggle? For him, he deserves to die for that alone."

Geto was about to open his mouth after a thought, but you interrupted him. "Also, he was a paedophile so he deserves everything that's come his way. The world needs none of those disgusting pigs."

You couldn't forgive him. You couldn't forgive such a disgusting creature existed. When you found out the information coincidently, you knew you had to do something about it.

The anger in your eyes was juxtaposed by the small smile on your lips, one that was almost proud of what you did.

Satoru couldn't contain himself any longer, "Yeah, he was a fucking piece of shit, but killing him? That's made you one of the sorcerers we've got to kill! You're to be executed on sight! You're a hypocrite, [name]. Are you trying to get all the sorcerers you want to protect to come kill you?"

You watched him as he heaved a breath, his eyes feeling heavy on your form as he tried to convey his distraught to you about the whole situation.

You barked out a laugh, a hand landing on your hip as you stared at him, no trace of the smile on your features anymore.

"Hypocrite?" The question lay on the tip of your tongue, before you let out a low chuckle, feeling your throat go dry. "Perhaps you're right; I am. I am a hypocrite who wants death as much as those geezers who send us out to kill ourselves."

"Oh, and you forgot one detail. I don't care about sorcerers and non-sorcerers at all. They're equally as bad as each other. The only difference is that sorcerers have the power to wield cursed energy and use it to destroy curses made up from the normie's emotions." You gave him a half lie. It was easier to push him away. Push him away so he won't be able to break the armour you've put up.

"And what of him dying? Are the elders going to retire themselves? Or will they KILL us sorcerers first?" Your voice became an octave higher as you emphasised words that made you emotional.

"After I kill them, you can then reform the society as you wish. You could probably kill them yourself, 'toru, but you won't take that step. That's why I'll take that step instead." You give him a crooked smile, "There's nothing here worth living for."

"Nothing worth living for?" Satoru repeated your words, taking off his sunglasses, watching you with his blue eyes, and you could see the monstrous waves of emotion behind them. "Are you fucking blind?"

Suguru glanced over at Gojo, hoping he didn't have to inject himself in between to stop it from escalating further.

"No, I am not fucking blind, Satoru!" A chip from your facade broke off, revealing a mess of emotions in the split second your voice broke. "Do you understand how suffocating it is living in this world? Where all your friends die in front of you, or there's a chance they'll die on their next mission? Where the strongest wins - and in this world, if the curses aren't the strongest, the sorcerers at their highest standing are!"

"You know I--" He began, but you cut him off.

"I know you hate them as much as I do! But I'll do whatever it takes to get rid of them, even if it means forsaking you all to do it." You almost sound like you're pleading by the end, your eyes starting to tear up.

"And after. When they're gone, you can reform the system, and control it in the way that works best for this generation." You force a smile to your lips, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Someone has to be the bad guy, and I'm willing to play the role, even if I may die in the process."

"[name], this can be done differently--"

"I'm tired, Satoru. I've tried. I've tried, and I'm tired. Why don't you understand that?" You whisper, shaking your head. "Do you know how many times I've tried talking to the higher ups, or anybody for that matter? No, you don't. You've been on missions this whole time, so you don't know. Even Suguru doesn't know the full extent of it. Shoko knows a bit, but she's not one who can do much about it."

Suguru and Satoru were silent for a moment, their eyes on you as your expression gave away everything you wanted to say.

"I won't be there, but it's a sacrifice worth making if you all aren't in danger. I don't care about anything else." Your words were soft, soft enough for them to hear you, soft enough for you to hope to convince yourself it was the right way and you didn't make the wrong choice.

Satoru and Suguru were the strongest duo. But, before they were, they were your best friends, along with Shoko. But now? Were you still able to call them your best friends? Did you even have that privilege anymore?

But, this is the path you took. Even if it meant abandoning those that you held dear, it was all for them. The real truth to your purpose and change of heart was to make a world easier for them, and for you, and for everybody who came after you. You didn't want anyone else to experience what you have, and you were going to do whatever you can to make that a reality.

You didn't give a flying fuck about anything else other than your best friends, if you were being honest. If it meant that you won't be by their side anymore, it was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

"So, I won't stop. This world is absolutely fucked. Why save something that can't be saved no more? I'd rather go down fighting. Morals be damned."

Your eyes glistening with tears unshed, you press your lips into a genuine smile. The last genuine smile before giving them a wave, "I guess this is goodbye. The next time I see you, 'toru, Sugu, we'll be enemies."

You turned on your heel, ready to leave, but you felt the curse energy expand from behind you, like they were readying to attack.

But, you kept walking, and nothing happened.

Satoru's outstretched hand fell back down to his side as he swore a string of curses, the pain on his face evident as he watched your figure disappear in the crowd of people.

Suguru had half a mind to get one of his curses to follow you, but he knew you well enough that the curse would be killed the minute you felt his cursed energy, so he didn't even bother.

His clenched his hand into a fist, a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembered back to when he was in a similar situation to you, but you and the others managed to get him out of it. He felt saved, but now, seeing it happen to the very person who helped him, made him shatter inside.

Why did you help him, when you couldn't even help yourself with your own words? Why didn't you let them help you? Why didn't you let them know you were having a hard time? That this was what you were contemplating?

He would have listened. They would have listened. They always would.

He felt a cold shiver go down his spine as he watched the endless stream of pedestrians, ones he used to call 'monkeys' in his head, but when letting go of that thought, you were at the forefront of his mind. It was you who grabbed his hand, you who brought him back.

It was you.

But he wasn't able to bring you back. He wasn't able to bring back the one who had nowhere else to go. The one who didn't know what to do with their emotions. The one who got lost.

But would he really call you lost when you knew what you wanted to do, where you wanted to go?

Suguru knew you weren't malicious. At least, not originally. The essence of you, he knew, was someone who cared greatly. One who had their heart on their sleeve when talking about anything and everything, especially with them. He didn't worry about you because you were always ok. But, there were things you didn't tell them and they didn't know, because you never let that part see the light of the day.

The only thing that Suguru felt in his chest, was regret. Regret so raw he felt cold and numb.

Satoru muttered another string of curses, turning on his heel, "Let's go, Suguru." His voice was small, and he didn't want to say any more.

He pondered all the possibilities of you. But he couldn't make himself understand you like you understood him. Which is what made it even more painful.

"I'm not as strong as you." Were words you once said to Satoru.

A forgotten conversation, one you started when he had come into your room even though the light was off, finding comfort in your presence. He wanted to sleep in the same bed or at least the same room, but you were still awake, sitting up in your bed and watching the stars and sky from your window.

Satoru didn't say anything as he climbed into your double bed, comfort filling his whole being from your calming scent alone. He wouldn't admit it, but it was one of his favourite places to be when he had turmoil in his mind.

"Yeah, you're weak." He mumbled, his face squished against the pillow as he faced you.

He could see the illuminated outline of your features from the moon, finding them captivating as he watched you with half-lidded eyes.

No, you're strong, were the real words he wanted to say. But, he had always called you weak, so he was going to continue. What harm was there?

You turn your head slightly, gazing at him with a soft smile. It was like you knew what he wanted to say, but didn't hold anything against him for saying the opposite of what he truly felt.

"You're right," You whispered. "I'm weak."

You went to close the curtains, slipping back into bed with Satoru as you closed your eyes, ignoring the gaze on you as you drifted off to sleep.

Satoru had a feeling those words were in reference to something else, but he had no idea what. He felt an invisible wall between you and him from the interaction just now, one that shouldn't be there lest he had his infinity on. But he never did unless in certain situations.

"You're plenty strong, [name]." He whispered this, bringing his finger to tap your forehead, before he also went to sleep.

You weren't asleep yet, so you heard his comment. It warmed your heart, the freezing depths of it wanting to thaw. It made you want to spill the inner turmoils of your mind, but you were scared it would taint the bright sun that is Satoru.

Satoru's a lot sweeter than he lets on, you let a small smile grace your lips as you face him to sleep.

Thinking back to that conversation, Satoru leaned back in the chair of your room, wondering where it all went wrong.

Were you trying to reach out to him back then? Or were you asking him for some form of confirmation? Were you trying to let him know you were not alright? What did you want?

He wasn't as good at reading emotions like Suguru was, but he knew something was wrong when something was wrong. He just didn't know how to approach it.

He wondered, if he had indulged you that time, would you have let him in?

"You had another fight with the elders, huh." Suguru stated, seeing your current state. He sat where the vending machines were, having just taken a seat after taking a shower. The can of green tea he had in his hands was opened and given to you, "Drink up."

You held an angry expression prior to this, but being with Suguru made you calm down. You took the green tea and took a small sip, savouring the bitter flavour. It was refreshing.

You handed it back to Suguru, "Thank you." He took it back and took a large gulp, feeling it cool down his body.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Suguru prodded. He knew something was up. Normally you'd be more like Satoru when you came out pissed from the elders meetings. But this time, you were quiet, more like you were seething, like a volcano about to erupt.

You stared at the ground, wondering what you should start with. You felt that all the words exchanged between you and the elders wasn't listened to, wasn't taken into account. It was like talking to a massive brick wall, one that you had no way to get through to.

"I..." You started, but your throat clammed up. You stopped, waiting for the words to come naturally. When your throat finally decided it was ready to talk, your voice was a whisper. "If the elders disappeared, would this all end?"

Suguru's gaze landed on you, knowing full well what you were thinking. He gave you the green tea again. You took it, and another sip.

"If the elders disappeared, others would take their place."

Suguru could feel something was wrong. The atmosphere was different with you, just like how it was different for him a year ago after the star plasma vessel mission. He could sense it in his very being, something was wrong.

"If the others took their place, would they act the same as the ones now?" You chuckled to yourself, but your voice dropped an octave, "Jujutsu society is trash."

There was a slight panic that welled up inside Suguru, reminding himself of the emotions he himself went through not too long ago.

He could see himself in you, and he hated it. Not the one who had helped to bring him out of it, the one who reached out their hand to bring him back to the light. Not you.

"[name]. You don't hate all sorcerers, do you?" His voice was calm, probing for information for your current state of mind.

Back then, he was on the verge of deciding whether to continue as someone who protected the weak, or someone who didn't care for the weak. And now, you were going through something similar. He wanted to bring you back to him, to the one you saved.

After a moment, you shook your head. "I don't. I just...hate how the elders are sending out young sorcerers to their deaths. I hate how there are young Jujutsu sorcerers being taken away from their families so they can train to be another one of us disposables. I hate how no matter what, the top dogs in this world are absolute trash, who need to be burned at the stake. And don't get me started on curses. They're the worst. I hate them. I hate them so much for taking away so much from everyone. From sorcerers, from non-sorcerers..."

A pregnant pause.

"I hate this world that has curses." Your voice cracked at the end of it as you leaned down, head in your hands as you stared at the ground, a broken whisper of self-awareness, "I hate how I've begun thinking this way."

Suguru didn't know when he had held his breath. Your confession was so raw. You had every right to be angry and frustrated at the system which Jujutsu was. He had also held the same thoughts.

"Sugu..." There was a heartbreaking whine to your voice, one that sounded as if you were on the verge of crying. "I hate this."

An embrace, so gentle, so tender, so soft, enveloped you as his larger body wrapped around yours. You could smell the soap he used as he pushed your face into the crook of his neck, his larger hand stroking your hair as you finally let the tears fall, a broken sob reverberating through your body as you held onto him like he was your lifeline.

"[name], I'm here." He soothes, head gently resting against yours. He closed his eyes, pulling you in closer when he felt you trembling. This was the exact same thing you did for him before, one that soothed him and his tumultuous heart.

The only difference is, you were smaller than before, too. Were you eating properly? You were skinnier. Did you get enough sleep? There were bags under your eyes. Did you take a break? He didn't see the last time you took a break.

You pulled away after a while, eyes puffy and face covered with snot. Suguru didn't even flinch as he grabbed the towel sitting next to him, wiping off any excess liquid from your face. It was gentle, and it reminded you he was the most gentle out of the three, and he'd been in a similar position to you at this moment in time. When you looked up to meet his eyes, you decided, you didn't want to burden him with your thoughts of hate - one time was enough.

"I'll always be here if you need me. You can come to me anytime." His hand went to your cheek and his thumb wiped at the area of your cheekbone. Just like his tender hugs, this was so, so soft that it made you want to cry again, making you nearly regret the decision in your heart.

You could only lean into his hand and give him a nod, eyes closing as you felt fatigue come down on your body, making it feel heavy. You didn't even know you fell asleep so fast that Suguru had to catch you, hauling you up so he could carry you back to your room.

This was the only time you revealed your true thoughts to Suguru, and the only time he has ever seen you this way.

Maybe this was the start of it? Suguru's thoughts when he woke up were clear in his mind. The dream he had was something that really happened, and it hurt him he wasn't able to help you during your hardest moments like you did for him.

He had slept in your bed for the night, finding that he missed you and the comfort you brought him. Your scent was calming to him, and it will forever be a saviour to his soul.

A week before killing the elder, Shoko had found you passed out in the infirmary, half of your body on a chair, and half of it off and on the ground.

She raised a brow at your position, wondering if you were tired and just fell asleep. On closer inspection, she could see the dark circles under your eyes, the thinning of your cheeks, and realised you've lost a lot of weight. The bottle on the chair were a bunch of sleeping pills, open and spilled, indicating you had taken some just prior.

If she wasn't worried about you before, she was definitely worried now.

And when you woke up, you were just like normal, which made Shoko question whether you were just overworked. She did know you fought a lot with the elders and were sent on difficult missions because they were out to get you. So with this information in mind, she was sure you were in need of a proper break, away from everything and everyone.

Which was why she advocated for you to get a break, away from Tokyo, to an island resort with lots of sunshine. A proper 4 day break. Of course, she got Satoru to pay for it since he was loaded and actually owed [name] for a previous thing.

But, the aftermath that came from that was the death of the elder 3 days after coming back.

Did that moment of clarity cause everything to happen? When you were on break, was that when everything went out of control? Was that when you decided this was the path you wanted to take?

You had looked completely back to normal after coming back that the worry Shoko and the boys held for you was almost like a false alarm - but they didn't realise that that in itself was the real alarm.

You were happy - or at least, you were smiling like you did before. It was wonderful to see you back to your regular self, something everyone mutually agreed on by the other sorcerers.

Until you murdered the elder, that is.

That was your first step into the world of depravity, away from the world of Jujutsu, and closer to the world called Hell.

[name]'s heart was soft. It was originally that way, and as you traversed through life, fell and got back up, your heart became stronger. However, it was just an outer layer, like a piece of armour for your fragile heart. You would pretend things were fine until it wasn't, even if you wore your heart on your sleeve, letting the people around you know what you thought, even if they thought you were joking.

It was almost too sudden when you realised all the armour around your soft heart had shattered to pieces.

It was like you lost a part of you that day, and you didn't know what could fix you. You didn't know if you could be fixed. So, you did the only thing you could do.

Pick up the pieces and do your best to put it back together, create a wall for your heart before it gets pierced again.

But before you were able to, a gunshot would shatter your glued armour, shattering in your hands, and your heart was laid bare, bleeding out without any way to stop.

And you wished and wished, for someone to reach out their hands to you and drag you out of your ocean of misery. But, nobody could reach deep enough, and you couldn't reach because you had no strength left to.

You couldn't reach out anymore. No matter how much you wanted, the same fate would await you, and you'd fall into such despair again.

You were tired. You were so, so, so tired.

The ones who made you like this, were ironically the ones who could take you out.

"____." You give them one last smile, a genuine one, as you feel the tears coming down your face, bringing your blade to your neck, before slicing and ending your own life.

You didn't want to die at the hands of your best friends. Not because they're your best friends, but because they would bear the burden of having killed you, and you didn't think they'd be able to take that, especially at the ripe age of 19. So, you'd rather do it for them, making it easier. After all, it would've been close to impossible going up against two of the strongest sorcerers.

You could only hear screams at you from the distance as the pain numbed your mind and body. Geto & Gojo were both screaming your name as they sprinted to you, their panicked shouts becoming background noise as they held onto your body, lifting you up to bring you to Shoko.

Your eyes could only see the terrified blue eyes from Satoru as he carried you on Geto's curse. He seemed to be wanting the curse to go faster, but Geto could only reply in an equally as panicked tone, saying this was his fastest one and that they're going as fast as they could to Shoko.

Your eyes are too beautiful to be panicking, you wanted to say. But, you couldn't. Blood had gotten into your oesophagus, making you struggle to breathe as you coughed and suffocated on your own blood.

"[NAME]! ARE YOU WITH ME?! STAY AWAKE!" Satoru's frantic shouts were barely ringing in your ears, but the creases on his face shouldn't have been there. They were going to give him wrinkles.

With one of the last ounces of your strength, you lifted your hand up to cup his cheek, then gently smooth the line between his brows, giving a weak smile.

Satoru let out a choked sound similar to a sob, understanding exactly what you were doing and what you wanted to say. He held your wrist, supporting you in whatever way he can as he could feel your body heat leaving you. Suguru placed a hand on your cheek, stroking the area under the eye, just like he always did.

It made you feel nostalgic, but you could barely see his expression, since tears had blurred your vision. You wanted to reach for Suguru before you had no more strength, so you gently moved your raised arm in that direction. Satoru, knowing exactly what you were doing, guided your hand to Suguru, who took your hand gently, holding it preciously between his two hands.

"Let's get you home, [name]." Were the last words Geto said to you. By 'home', he meant with them, back to Jujutsu, so they could forget everything that happened and start over. It would just be like those happy days, back when there was nothing to worry about.

In your state, you couldn't make out everything he was saying, but you knew they were kind words by his intonation and the caress he held for your bloodied hand.

You only gave them a smile, one that was apologetic, as you felt your consciousness fading away. The tears that blurred your vision finally fell, and the slight squeeze of your hand in Geto's made him realise that was it.

For you, it was time to sleep. It was a time for you to finally rest your tired mind and body, away from this world, and away from all those that you loved.

Suguru looked over at Satoru, who was biting his lip almost bruisingly as they trembled. With his sunglasses off, he could see everything in detail, including the way your cursed energy stopped, from when your body heat disappeared, and he couldn't feel you anymore. You were a hollow shell of a body now, and the last thing you left them was an apologetic smile on your face.

Away from the battleground, Shoko looked out the window, a pang of sadness hitting her all at once when she realised the screams belonging to Geto & Gojo resonated through the forest. She could barely just hear them, but she knew, the dread that filled her veins was apparent. She knew.

She closed her eyes, taking out the cigarette between her lips as she exstinguished it, her arm covering her eyes as she leaned back in her seat, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

"Quite sad, really. None of you realised [name] suffered this much." Kenjaku sowed the top of your head back together after revealing some information you kept hidden to Suguru & Satoru, and about your last moments and thoughts.

Seeing the despair and shock on their faces was intoxicating, especially when it came to the body he borrowed. Kenjaku knew the amount of love that had been given to the original owner of his current body, and using that, he could disarm even the strongest of sorcerers in the modern day.

It was a pity you were dead, but if you were alive and not dead, Kenjaku wouldn't have been able to take over your body now, would he?

It was especially sweet because the body hadn't even been cremated and still looked the same as it did 10 years ago. And those two who had been responsible for it were standing in front of him, in Shibuya station during Halloween.

Even better because you had died in their arms, so seeing you alive as Kenjaku was more of a sick joke than anything, but he loved that expression on the ones who had essentially allowed you to be this way.

"If only the people around them were able to reach out a hand before their descent into madness, none of this would have happened." Kenjaku ran a hand through your hair.

Satoru let out a low growl from his throat as he watched whoever was in your body use it, control it, and pretend to be you. No one could be you. You were gone. You were gone 10 years ago. And he knew - he knew you were not in front of him.

You died in his arms.

So there was absolutely no way that could be you. Absolutely not!

But, his six eyes said otherwise. It was you. Everything was you. It was the same you who died in his arms 10 years ago, the same you who gave him one last smile before leaving the earth.

It tore him to pieces inside.

Suguru put out an arm in front of Satoru, eyeing the cursed user in your body. He was pretending to be calm, but the way his hands and jaw clenched at the blatant disrepect Kenjaku had for your body was digusting. How dare he exhume your grave and take your body from it?

He felt a cold, almost murderous feeling bubble up inside him as he readied himself for combat.

That was not you. And it couldn't be, even if Satoru's six eyes recognised you to be alive. You weren't alive. You had been lost long ago, and whoever was in front of them was an imposter.

"[name]! How long are you going to let this little bitch take over your body?" Satoru finally burst, pissed at the prospect of someone disrespecting you.

Your hand, reacting almost instantaneously, went straight for the top of the head, right where Kenjaku's brain was. It stabbed straight through the cranium, a crunch eliciting a scream from Kenjaku himself as the brain was stabbed, wounding his real body. Kenjaku used your other arm to stop your attack on his weak point, feeling the blood pour out.

For a moment, it was silent except the light splatter and pitter patter of blood from your body. Suguru and Satoru stared at what happened in front of them, shocked that what Gojo said had ellicited such a response.

Kenjaku pulled your assaulting hand away, holding it in a death grip with the one he could control. The blood dripped down his face as he used his reverse cursed technique to heal the head wound, cracking the sides of his neck after he healed your head and his brain.

"Wow, I can't believe [name] went straight for the kill." Kenjaku laughed to himself. "But that's all there is to it. The soul and body are one, aren't they? Don't think this will happen again." He chuckled and waited for the hand to calm itself.

"Oh, and did you know [name] wrote a letter to each of you? Including Shoko. They knew they'd die so they hid it away in the school. I think they hid it somewhere important for each of you. Even they don't quite remember." Kenjaku couldn't quite recall what the contents of the letters were as the memory itself was fuzzy. He wanted to see it as their strong friendship strained due to his taking over of [name]'s body.

He wondered why this specific memory was blurred out, and he couldn't recall anything from your memories about this specific thing?

It was like you were deliberately making sure you didn't remember it, and deleted the memory from your head so no one could find the letters.

A letter? The strongest duo's eyes narrowed at the imposter in their dead best friend's body, wondering if it's a part of their tricks. But it was also hard to not believe them, since they look like you. And everything about you, they would believe.

Because you were the type of person who would write letters to them.

"I don't know what they say, but they've been there since before [name] died." Kenjaku tapped his temple, "If you can get out of here, I implore you to find them."

That pissed the two off. Kenjaku was implying they wouldn't get out of this alive, or at least, to see the letters that were supposedly left for them. It pissed them off to no end, and they prepared to battle, not wanting to take part of his nonsense any longer.

Dear Satoru,

I'm glad to have met you. I love you. I love Suguru. I love Shoko. I love everyone. We had so many fun times, and it was the best time of my life. Everything was so bright, cheery and brought me so much happiness, I can't even tell you the extent of it.

I hope you don't mind this letter. If you've found it after I've defected or after I'm dead, I can't express with words how much doing this pains me. If I can't use my words, I have to use my actions, right? I hope you don't forgive me for what I've done. It's unacceptable and you have every right to hate me. I've killed innocent people for the purpose of my goal. Horrible, right? I really hope you won't forgive me.

But I know you. You will. You're just that kind of person.

I'll miss your bright blue eyes and white hair. I'll miss your loud and boisturous personality. I'll miss how your heart races every time I hug you. I'll miss you nuzzling into my head when we hug. I'll miss the soft 'sweet dreams' you say every time you carry me to bed after I fall asleep studying. I'll miss when you take photos of me everyday. I'll miss your annoyingness. I'll miss your teasing words every day. I'll miss your blushing cheeks when you're embarrassed. I'll miss your comical, over the top reactions. I'll miss you eating a whole bunch of sweets in one setting. I'll miss the crepe shop we'd often go to. I'll miss how you make me feel safe. I'll miss your voice. I'll miss you.

If reincarnation exists, I want to meet you again. I want to see your smile again. I want to call you 'toru again. I want to give you the biggest hug, and feel the thrum of your heart racing. Then, I'll give you a kiss on your head, just like you always do to me before I sleep.

You're strong, 'toru. Make sure to stay safe and be careful. I don't want to meet you on the other side so soon. Grow up to be even stronger, and reform Jujutsu's society. I know you can do it!

By the way, I left your favourite recipe of the sweets you liked that I made. That way, you can enjoy them anytime.

Love, [name].

P.S. Don't eat so many sweet things at once!!! I don't want you getting cavities!!!

Dear Suguru,

You were the first one to notice anything going on, and for that, I'm grateful. I'm sorry I brushed you off so coldly. I didn't know how to ask for help. I wish I'd have listened to your heartfelt words to rely on you a little more.

If you see this, I've probably already defected or I'm dead. But I just want you to know, I love you. I want to see you again. I miss you. I want to hug you and let you know everything I'm thinking. I want you to give me one of your strong hugs, knocking the air out of me. I also equally want your soft, tender hugs, as you whisper comforting words to me. I want to hear your voice again. I want to run my fingers through your hair again and question why you only use soap on it. I want to cook with you again. Have late night discussions. Cuddle. Piggyback rides. Kisses on the cheek. Allowing me to latch onto you like a koala when I'm cold since you run hot. I miss our times together. I miss you.

If reincarnation is real, we will definitely meet again. I want to see you smile from the bottom of your heart, and enjoy the most delicious food! And, if no curses are in that world, then you'll finally have a food you don't like - I'll be willing to lend an ear so you can whisper it to me! I want to cup your cheeks and tell you you've done well, for enduring during tough times and standing right back up. I want to finally give you a piggyback ride, since I was never able to fulfil that wish here. I want to be able to call you Sugu again.

Stay strong, Sugu. Make sure to stay safe. Since I know you hate the taste of curses, I've left the key to my safe with candies that are really good at cleansing the palette. Don't ever let these get into 'toru's hands or else you'll never see them again. I got these custom made just for you, and I've left a note with instructions on where to get it and what special order it was. I was supposed to give it to you sooner, but I left before then. Hope you enjoy them!

Love, [name].

P.S. Please take care of yourself!!! And don't use soap on your hair!!! Use proper shampoo and conditioner since your hair's so pretty!!!

Dear Shoko,

I'm sorry you probably had to see my dead body.

If I had spilled my heart out to you about my troubles, I wonder if it would've helped? I kept things bottled up for too long and it's become like this. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep our promise. We didn't get to go to Disneyland like we promised all those months ago - the tickets are just sitting somewhere rotting away. I really wanted to go with you, Sugu and 'toru. It would've been great fun, and we would've made so many memories.

I miss your voice, Shoko. I miss your laugh. Your insults. Your frankness. Your weirdness. Your chillness. You. Heck, I even miss your scent of smoke. I miss you so much. I want to see you.

Can I meet you again? In a world without curses, where we don't need to risk our lives and watch our loved ones die. If I ever get reincarnated, can you find me? Or I can find you? I want to enjoy our times together again, feel the breeze against our skin, sing joyfully, joke around, play around, and take many photos together. That's the only way I want to spend it - and I want it so much you don't even know. In that kind of world, we can finally be happier. We can finally smile geniunely. I'll be able to finally see you again.

I bought some smokes for you and it's in my safe. Suguru has the key. Take some of the candies too, they might help in cleansing your palette every now and then.

I love you.

Love, [name].

P.S. Too much smoking isn't good for you!!! Please quit or at least do it a little less!!! I worry for your lung health...

Trembling hands read their letters as they were found around Jujutsu High school. It had your cursed energy as a seal, but the minute it was touched by any of the three, the seal would break. The letter itself was blank, with a couple of pages for each of them. The words appeared once they injected their cursed energy into it.

Words written by you appeared on the page, covering all the pages given for each letter. As the trio read the letters you had kept hidden from them, they couldn't help but let their unshed tears fall.

They were all known as strong sorcerers who don't cry. But, you brought them to their knees with your sincerity, and you were lost too soon. It was the last thing they had from you, and the warmth in every word of those letters struck a chord deep in their hearts, remembering 10 years ago and the day you had died.

"I kept [name]'s room clean," Suguru started, his eyes glossy. He had already cried, but every time he wanted to read the words off the letter, he was ready to cry again. He didn't want to. "Everything's the same."

It was as if they went down memory lane. Nothing had changed in your room. It was just as Geto said, it was exactly the same.

Whenever Geto had some time, he would clean your room, just like how he knew you would like it. It was something he sometimes did if he stayed over to help you study or just to hang out. So, he knew where everything was.

Immediately going to the safe, he put in a random number, guessing your birthday, then he used the key entrusted to him and unlocked it.

"What a bad password..." Geto couldn't help but laugh lightly, but his laughter died in his throat when he opened the safe.

The first thing the three of them saw was a couple of picture frames, each of them with pictures of the four of them that they remember taking when they were younger. The photos where all of them were happy, grinning and had no care in the world, it made their throats dry, clamming up uncomfortably.

Geto picked up the picture frames, taking a closer look at them with Shoko.

"Oh, look, there's more." Gojo peered in, seeing the promised recipe, bag of lollies, Disneyland tickets and smokes from each of their letters. He took them out and handed them what was gifted.

As they examined the items, Gojo read the recipe, a page written neatly by you. It was as if he could imagine you sitting in your room, writing it just for him while you tasted the different variations that you recommended in the recipe.

Geto put the photos face down, falling flat on his back on your bed as his arm covered his eyes.

Shoko stared at him for a moment, deciding to join him by doing the same thing. Your bed was only a double bed (you had requested a bigger bed for your first paycheck) and didn't have that much space for the three of them, much less four.

Seeing the two of them do the exact same thing, Satoru joined them, but instead, he sat up against your headboard, laying his legs in a cross legged position.

He fipped the picture frames back up, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he basked in the silence and warmth of your room he was so familiar with.

He closed his eyes, and like the others, thought of you.

Would it have been different had you told them everything you were feeling? If you talked through exactly what was causing you grief, and what could be done about it? Were they not enough to help you back up? Would you have felt so suffocated that you chose to die? Would you have still died in their arms? Would Kenjaku have still taken over your body? Still left them behind?

They say sorcerers don't die without regrets.

And they knew if they died, their one and only regret would be you.

At a certain crepe shop, Gojo Satoru waited for his crepe, one he decorated with strawberries, whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate. It was one he used to frequent with his old friend, and he'd come here every week with them to buy a crepe. It wasn't the order he normally went with, but today, he felt nostalgic.

It had been so long since the last time he had visited the crepe shop with you, but it remained fresh in his mind even after reincarnating many times over. What timeline was he in now? He counted 7. That was 7 lifetimes without you. Suguru & Shoko were also counting, and they did whatever they could to find out where you would be. But, each and every one after their first, you were nowhere to be found.

Suguru & Shoko would sometimes come to the crepe shop, but they were also busy making a living in a world without curses. The tragedy from their first life remained fresh in their current ones, holding them so strongly they didn't want to give up.

But unknown to them, you were right under their nose all along, and you frequently went to that same crepe shop at times just before or after they were there, a mysterious force pushing you to the place.

It was at one time, where Satoru thought he saw you, that it reignited the flame that had been dormant for so long, to finally see you, after so many timelines and lifetimes apart.

Your voice, followed by your laughter, and your hand. He had you memorised, and he was so thankful for his good memory that recognised you. It was the closest he got, and when he heard you, saw a part of you, he was sprinting, but you had already disappeared onto the train, and the last thing he saw was the back of your head.

It was brief, but it was enough for his mind to go overdrive and let the others know his findings, that it was possible for them to find you this lifetime, and the crepe shop was the biggest key to it all.

And, when they cracked the code and finally found you, all the memories, feelings and thoughts from their original life came back to them, allowing them to finally see you in a world without curses, even if they had to wait 7 lifetimes.

If they had to put it into years, those 7 lifetimes were equivalent to over 600 years of not seeing you.

But, this lifetime, they finally found you.

Over 600 years in the making, and you also found them.

A/N: I CRIED WRITING THIS. It hurt me 😭 here's part 2!

There's also somewhat of a prequel as well from Geto's POV if you were interested!

Here's also an AU in an alternate timeline with information that takes place directly after the original timing here.

If y'all want some fluff here's the masterlist for the rest of the series 🕊️

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk season 2 #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk spoilers #jjk au #satoru x reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #geto #suguru geto x reader #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #suguru #satoru #satosugu #sashisu x reader #sashisu #ieiri shoko #stsg #shoko ieiri #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[non-stop-imagines]

Be My Baby

Prequel to Repeat That

From this, this, this, this, and this request!💖

Word Count: ~11k words w/ smau

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Black Content Creator!Reader ( Halle Bailey face claim)

Warning: Smut (p in v, masturbation (?),), Soft!Dom and protective Max, reader going into a subspace for the first time and Max handling it like a champ, Twitter Environment, mention of food, mention of alcohol, Max yearning literally the entire way through 😘 Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: Round of applause everyone! It's here! It's done! You all need to pat yourselves on the back for getting me through this. It was literally the most stressful yet enjoyable thing to write, because, fun fact I am a perfectionist when I am doing this for other people and I just wanted this to be all you ever hoped for. Hope you all popped your popcorn, got out a blanket, and have the lights down low. LOVE YOU ALL SO FREAKING GOSH DARN MUCH!!!💖💛💖💛💖 (Also I didn't write the fic from the song but it came on while on my way to work and I was like "wow, this is perfect")

A/N 2: All of the pictures used for the smau portions are all from pinterest and are not my own product.

Masterlist

___________________★♥★___________________

babygurlyn

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babygurlyn Stay tuned! 👀🏎️

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user1 She goin on side quests now??

user2 Finna stunt on that entire paddock in that outfit 💖😫

f1 👀👀

>babygurlyn Excited for my first race!🤩

>f1 Excited to have you 😁

user3 Okay but imagine one of the drivers falling in love with her so she can drop her punk ass dude 🫥

>user4 My money is on Lando 🧍🏼‍♀️

   "You guys, I don't know how, I definitely don't know why, but we are here. Where is here you ask? Well if you didn't pay attention to the title of the video, I am in Miami for the inaugural Formula 1…hold on there's and entire name. Give me a second." You hold up a finger to your camera and reach into your fanny pack that you had strapped across your body for your phone, opening up your browser. "Formula 1 Crypto.com Miami Grand Prix." You smile back at the camera as you clumsily replace your phone back in the pack. "Like I said before, I'm not completely sure why I was chosen to attend because I have NEVER watched Formula 1, but you guys have heard me yell at my boyfriend for having it on too loud while I'm recording, so maybe that has something to do with it. Either way, thank you to Formula 1 for the invite, can't wait to learn about the sport in person" After one last bright smile to the camera, you stop the camera and drop your arm, a chipper smile still on your face as you practically bounce to the turnstiles to enter the paddock, in awe of the number of people, large buildings, and TV cameras through the area. You look for the group you were with, various other famous content creators invited to the Grand Prix, but have no luck as the crowd of people thickened, which seemed surprising to you. "Shouldn't some of these kids be at school? It's Friday!" You mildly whisper to yourself as you look for any sign of familiarity. You walk further into the area, starting to pass by the previously mentioned buildings, politely smiling at people but neglecting to ask for assistance. You initially were actively looking for the group you were with, but after a long stint of time with no familiar face, you just counted your losses and began to explore the area on your own.

   Now, while you were unsure as to why you were chosen to attend the grand prix, and had absolutely no idea how Formula 1 works, you’ve always been fascinated. You would watch races in passing, as your boyfriend would have the TV hemmed up every race weekend, and have watched him play the video game a couple times, but you’ve been too afraid to ask how everything worked, not wanting to be called stupid or anything else for inquiring about something that you genuinely wanted to know more about. So being here, seeing a race weekend in person, alone, was honestly exactly what you needed, as long as you keep your ringer off so as to not have your text tone be a constant nuisance.

You decided that if you were going to explore everything yourself, it might as well be on camera, so lift up your vlogging camera which was strapped to your wrist and hit record. “Okay so…I lost everyone. I was vlogging and didn’t realize the group left and so technically I am lost. BUT I should be able to find where I need to go and you guys are going to come with me." You continue to walk further into the paddock, looking around for anything that may be able to point you in the correct direction. Somewhere along your journey, you found yourself venturing between buildings passing boxes and stacks of tires. "Okay, I'm starting to think that I'm not supposed to be here. It feels very top secret." You take another look at the cases, paying attention to the logo. "Red Bull? Like the drink?" You keep walking, camera facing you, and you looking everywhere but forward, fascinated by the behind the scenes glimpse that you were getting. Unfortunately, this meant you were blindly walking forward, unaware of the person walking the opposite direction who tried to stop for you, but you still crashed into them, bouncing back and beginning to fall backwards due to the force you walked into them with. Luckily, the unknown person was able to quickly reach around you to keep you upright, loosening their grip once they're sure you're steady on your feet, but still keeping their hands on your waist.

   You look up into blue eyes, widened from the shock of the sudden interaction, messy blond hair and slightly parted pink lips that confirms the look of concern. "Sorry."

   "That's okay." You were an angel to Max. It was the look of your wide brown eyes, the depth and darkness of your irises enhancing their bright innocent look, and adding to the bubbly aura you exuded. He felt the need to grin or smile at you because you were looking up at him like a scared puppy, waiting for punishment.

   "I should've been watching where I was going. I really am sorry. Geez, I always do that, get too wrapped up in everything else and I don't pay attention to what's around me." You continue to grumble to yourself as you lift up your camera to stop your vlog recording.

   "Hey, really, it's okay. I'm fine, still intact." Max finally lifted his hands from your waist to motion up and down his body, a gesture that makes you chuckle, lifting the mood slightly, before you continue to look around, trying to figure out where you came from. "Uh, quick question," Max's voice reminds you of his presence, his looming height still watching you curiously. You nod, allowing him to continue with his question. "Do you know who I am?" You tilt your head to the question that was posed with genuine wonder. You seemed so unphased by his presence, and he would think that even a person who disliked him would have reacted, negatively or otherwise.

   "Oh, no I- are you security!? Because I really just got lost, I'm not trying to steal secrets or anything. This is my first race, I wouldn't know what secrets to steal-" 

   "Hey, it's fine. It was a stupid question. Uh, so, this is your first race? Have you watched Formula 1 before?" Max's arm props up the other as he reflexively scratches at his neck with a singular finger.

   "Yeah, but I've never watched Formula 1 before. My boyfriend does though, I just…I don't know. I feel like he would make fun of me if I asked him about it so I've refrained." Your eyes venture down from his face for the first time, giving you a glimpse of the race suit he had on, like the ones in the couple of driver photos you noticed on the way in. "I like your costume. You must be, like, a Formula 1 super fan."

   "Yeah, you can say that." The throaty chuckle that came from Max made you feel warm, a sentiment building for the stranger.

   "I do have a question." It was your turn now, and the rise of  Max's eyebrows in intrigue made your heart skip a beat. "Red Bull? Is there really a team for the energy drink?"

   "Haha, yes. Yes, there is. I think they're pretty alright." You loved the bright laughing smile that grew on his face, it was contagious and caused you to reciprocate a short giggle.

   "I can see that." You take a moment to recall what you saw while walking down the paddock earlier. "I think I saw that there was a pink team. I'll probably support them until I learn the sport and all the teams." Max chuckles lightly at your statement and briefly checks his watch for the time, something that alerts you to do the same. "Oh, I think something is supposed to start soon."

   "Yeah, I definitely should get going. Oh, but let me help you first." Max starts looking up from your face and begins mentally mapping out where he needed to go.

   "Oh! Uh, do you want to be in my vlog? Completely forgot about this thing." You lift up the hand that was looped through the strap of your vlog camera.

   "Ah, sure. I would love to." There was that smile again, one that took up his entire face and that you had to tear your eyes from to start recording.

   "Okay, guys. So, I found a sign of life." You maneuvered yourself so you were standing next to him and could see in the flipped up viewfinder that he was in the shot as well. "Everyone, this is- oh! I didn't get your name!"

   "Max." After your realization, you had turned your head to look at Max so when he answers he turns his head to look into your eyes, camera be damned.

   "Max…" You stop for a moment, the thinking face you make while still looking at Max was five steps past adorable. "Can I call you Maxie? I think it fits you."

   "Yes, you can." Max chuckles at the refreshing innocence and oblivion that you approached him with. It was nice to be "Maxie" for a moment and not Max Verstappen.

   "Everyone, this is Maxie, apparently a Red Bull super fan with this racing costume that I love," You look towards him again and wave your hand in his general vicinity after making sure the camera could see the rest of his body.

   "Thank you." Max actively stops the laugh that is trying to come out, opting for a wide, flattered grin.

   "You're welcome!" It was your turn now to flash a bright smile up Max that made him melt. You turn back to the camera. "Maxie here is going to help me find my way out of the, what I am assuming is, restricted area that I found my way into, so let's all say thank you to Maxie." You stop the recording and fully turn your body to Max, flipping down the viewfinder and ensuring that your camera was off. "Thank you, again. Really. This has all been pretty stressful, so it's nice to have gotten a bit of kindness today. Anyhoo, lead the way Maxie!" Max chuckles and motions in the direction you two would be going, but instead of walking in front of you he walked beside you, taking a mental snapshot of how it felt to have you beside him.

   "Why has this been stressful, if you don't mind me asking?" You guys continue behind the buildings, heading what felt like further down the paddock.

   "Oh, not at all. Um, well, I've had to turn the ringer on my phone down because my boyfriend has been blowing me up complaining and questioning why I came here when I know nothing about Formula 1 and that I should've asked for another ticket for him or let him go instead…The past week has been a mess in that department. And now embarrassingly getting lost and having to have a random helpful stranger, with a very comforting smile and aura by the way, assist me in finding my way. At least vlogging it lightens the blow a bit." You swing your arms a bit, looking at the buildings you're passing by.

   "Thank you for the compliment. And I'm glad I am able to help, even if it is just a little bit." He purposefully does not mention your boyfriend, you've only mentioned him twice and both times gave Max chest pains. You both walk a few more steps then stop nearly in sync at the opening of another alley with a view of the paddock. "Okay, so, I believe if you walk through there and turn left there should be signs leading you to the grandstands. Hopefully there will be someone there that can lead you to where you need to go." You turn to face Max again and a gentle grin plants itself on his face, wishing he could just stay with you all day.

   "Thank you again for being so kind. I hope you have a good time at the race." You smile politely and then start making your way down the alleyway between paddock buildings.

   "Wait! I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" Max closed the gap a bit between you two with a couple of steps.

   "Oh, it's Yn." That adorable smile was plastered on your face when you turned back to Max.

   "Well, Yn, I hope we can see each other again. At this race or another." He grinned again. Truthfully he hated seeing you leave. He hated that he actually had no time for what he was doing right now, but he could care less about that. What he loved though, was finally knowing your name and hearing it come from his mouth for the first time. It felt as natural as breathing. What he loved even more was hearing his newly minted nickname in your beautiful voice as you responded.

   "Me too, Maxie! See ya!" And then, to Max's despair, you were off toward the grandstands and he had to turn back to get ready for FP1.

   You stalk up to the Red Bull motorhome, showing security the necessary pass before walking into the building, grinning politely at people in passing until a woman approaches you smiling and holding another pass.

   "Yn! Hi, I'm Carrie, I'm the head of hospitality for Red Bull Racing." She holds out her empty hand that you meet with a handshake. "Welcome to Monaco. I'm glad to see that you made it here in one piece." She waves for you to follow her and hands you the pass as you two begin to walk out of the building and across the paddock.

   "I'm glad too, the Miami, uh," You took a moment to remember the Formula 1 lingo you’ve learned since Miami. "Paddock. The Miami paddock was a walk in the park compared to this one." You giggle and follow Carrie into what you assume is the garage.

   "Yeah, Monaco is a very complicated place on many different levels." She continues to lead you through the barriers of the garage.

   "Can I ask a quick question?" You both stop and move to the side . "Is it Red Bull that invited me here or, you know…Max?" You weren't sure why, but you were desperate to know this information.

   "Both. But I will say that was Max's idea." She points to the pass she gave you and you guys continue to walk further into the garage. "Well, it was more of a demand. But either way, he wants you in that garage with him." Those were some of the last words exchanged between you and Carrie sans you thanking her and her telling you to have a good time before a familiar face turns towards you, the bored stone face he had quickly morphing to his contagious smile that you can't help but return.

   "Hey!" He approaches you with his arms out and hesitantly pulls you into a side hug, only truly doing so once you approach him with both arms out, wrapping them around his torso.

   "Hi, Max." You try hard to make your voice sound chipper, trying to camouflage the pain and stress from the past week.

   "Wait a minute, what happened to Maxie?" You hadn't let go of him yet, and he was completely fine with it. You were too busy finding comfort in the scent of his cologne in his polo, and he was too busy reveling in the feel of your body in his arm.

   "Sorry, Maxie. These past few weeks have been a doozy." You abruptly let go of him, to which he reacts quickly and does the same, allowing you to straighten out his shirt and ensure that none of your makeup had transferred.

   "Well, do you want to go talk about it?" Max had quickly missed your touch once you were done fixing him up, so, upon his proposition, he reached out to touch your elbow, dipping his head a little to look into your eyes.

   "No, no. I'll be fine. You're probably busy, anyway." You look towards the people Max was talking to the moment before you entered, their eyes urging Max back over.

   "They can wait. It's Thursday, we have all day." Max looks over to the people now, his face not visible from the angle you looked at him but you were able to see annoyance and slight fright in their eyes before they turn and go on to do some other pre-race weekend task.

   "Oh, okay." You don't know when Max got a grasp on your hand, but as quick as you answered you were being guided in the direction opposite of the open Red Bull garage leading to the pitlane. The short walk was wordless, but you could feel that Max's aura was…unwelcoming as you two walked by people that would have stopped him if they didn't feel like he would have bitten their head off. Max reaches a door that he quickly opens and shuts and then, almost as if he were two different people, his demeanor softens as he nervously grabs two chairs so you two could sit facing each other.

   "Sorry about that. People tend to bother me unless I look like I'm headed somewhere pissed off." He chuckles and waits for you to sit before sitting himself.

   "I see. That's okay. Trust me, I know that sometimes you just don't want to be bothered." After your affirming statement, you two sit quietly in Max's driver room, silently studying each other.

   "So, how have you been?" You speak up first, postponing explaining how the past couple of weeks have gone for you.

   "Fine. Been pretty happy with how the team has been performing and…what?" Max stops in the middle of his spiel when he sees a small twist in your facial expression, a slight crinkle producing between your eyebrows.

   "Oh, nothing. Sorry. Continue, please." You immediately brighten your face attempting to get Max to continue talking, but it doesn't work. Instead, a tired neutral expression settles on his face.

   "No, what's wrong?" You seem to instinctively cower under his intense gaze, having no choice but to answer.

   "Nothing, I just…no, nevermind. It's not important. Keep going." You force a smile onto your face, or at least a mild grin with widened eyes, anything to signal that you were ready to listen to whatever he had to say.

   "No, Yn. Don't do that. What's wrong?" Max leans forward from his previously reclined position, his complete focus on you. It was interesting seeing his face in that moment, eyes noticeably more wide open but still holding a soft, attentive gaze and his mouth clamped shut producing a straight line with his lips, adding the tone of seriousness to his expression.

   "It's just that, I want to hear how you've been doing. Not how driving is or how the team is doing, even though I know that's part of how you're doing. I just don't understand that stuff, yet." At this point you've looked away from Max, placing all of your visual attention on you nails, running your thumb along the white gel polish on your fingers. "I want to know how you have been doing. How have you slept? Have you done anything fun recently? Spent time with friends or family or something…"

   "Ah, that's fair. Um, well…" He looks away for a moment to gather his thoughts, recounting the previous 2 weeks that were honestly full of race preparation. He then looks back up at you, your head tilted, ponytail falling to the side, your complete attention on him as indicated by large, unblinking eyes. "Truthfully, I've just been preparing for races these past couple of weeks. After Miami we had a week off, but that week was spent getting ready for back to back races with Spain last week and Monaco this week." Your eyebrows scrunch together again, but this time Max knew exactly why. "But I think I got enough sleep and slept well enough. Just didn't have enough time for leisure."

   "Okay…" Your face didn't change much, except a slightly more exaggerated pout as you accepted his answer.

   "Now, your turn." Max laughs at how quick your face turns to shock when you realized your stalling time had run out. 

   "Oh, well you know, it's sad and kinda infuriating to talk about…" You weren't looking at Max's face as you spoke but you did once you paused and it was back to the wide eyed, neutral face expression that got you talking moments before, and it worked its magic again. "Okay, well, I guess I really haven't talked about it to anyone and I really need to because this has really been ruining my mood and I don't like being sad…long story short, me and my boyfriend broke up."

   If you could see into Max's chest, his heart would have been doing flips. He hated to see you sad but, boy, did he like hearing that you were single. "Oh." Max knew it was best for him to say as few words as possible, because if given the chance, he would've said everything that he wanted to when he first met you.

   "Yeah. It was time, honestly. I finally realized that I deserved to be treated so much better." Your words made Max's ears perk.

   "Wait, so did you break up with him, or…" his question trailed off since you nodded before he could finish.

    "Yeah." You shrugged and gave him a sad grin. "He was just so mean to me. All the time. He would treat me like a child." You laugh hollowly. "After my Miami Grand Prix vlog blew up, sorry for that, by the way. Not knowing who you are and the whole 'Maxie' thing-" 

   "Hold on." Max's stern words startled you to silence. "You don't need to apologize for either of those things. First of all, I didn't care about whether or not you knew who I was. I actually liked the fact you didn't know who I was. Second of all, I like 'Maxie', especially, well, really only when you call me 'Maxie', but we can't have everything." You finally crack a grin, which was greater than any race win or championship he has ever received. He really just needed you to smile, even though his true goal was to get feel the bright, playful aura that you exuded when you two first met, but he knew that would require time for you to heal from your breakup and time for you to become comfortable with him, and he had nothing but time.

   "Well, good. But even still, I was a bit embarrassed once the video went out and I found out who you were, but nothing too bad. It took me maybe a day and a half to get over the embarrassment and laugh with everyone. But, for some reason, my boyfriend wouldn't let it go. He was like 'How could you be so fucking stupid to not know that was Max Verstappen' and 'With how much I watch formula 1, you should have known who he was.'" You mock your ex's words, not seeing the grin that grows on Max's face, that is quickly replaced with shock when you abruptly continue talking. "How could I have known if he never gave me the time of day to teach me!! He would always just brush me off and  say that I 'wouldn't understand'..." Your fiery-ness dulled. "This was the last straw for me though. Who calls someone a dumb bitch because they didn't know who someone was."

   Max has never wanted to punch someone as bad as he did in that moment. He just couldn't understand how someone could be so mean to you. So degrading. You didn't deserve that. "He sounds like a cunt."

   "Woah, Maxie!" A laugh. Max finally got a laugh out of you after your downward spiral. "That's… a word."

   "Am I wrong? From the little bit you have told me about him, he sounds like a cunt." He shrugs and you grin, mildly, but amused.

   "He was an asshole.” Nothing could have contained the smile that Max had after a split second of shock from your claim.

   “Woah, there. Language.” The laughter that fills the driver’s room lifts the gloom that previously surrounded you two.

   “I know. I think I need to wash my mouth out with soap now." As the laughter dies down that sad grin that Max wanted to kiss away takes root on your face once more. "It kinda sucks though, cause a small piece of me still misses him. But I think it's more because he was there for a lot of big things that happened in my life, especially with my channel and everything. So that'll take some time to get over, but I will." 

   "Makes sense." And truly it did make sense to Max to miss someone you've been through a lot with. Besides, Max was selfishly glad that you had such a positive outlook on the situation because it only took him a split second to answer the question he had the moment you said you broke up with your boyfriend:

Was he really going to pursue you a week after your break up? 

Abso-fucking-lutely.

He then had to fill the silence that had fallen over you two, quickly realizing he was going through a similar situation, one that he only just thought to mention. "Actually, me and my girlfriend broke up…just over a month ago?" Max had to think. The event was so unemotional and uneventful that it slipped his mind.

   "Oh, I'm sorry. What happened?" Max saw the pity in your eyes and tried to remedy it with a gentle smile and a shrug.

   "Somewhere along the way our lives and plans didn't align anymore. It was the best for both of us." He added to a mental list another face of yours that he adored. It was contemplative, showing that you were really analyzing his situation.

   "Hmm, that's pretty cool. That you both were able to come to that decision, and able to do it without anyone getting hurt." You felt your phone vibrate and went to check the importance of the notification, along with the time. "Oh! I've held you up for half an hour!"

  Max slowly stands with you when you pop out of your seat at the realization. "That's fine, trust me. I'm not the biggest fan of Thursdays and all of the media stuff." 

   "That's fine for you, but this is my first race as a guest of Red Bull. I do not want to be known as 'the distraction'." You make sure you have everything before heading towards the door.

   "You'd be the best distraction Red Bull has ever had. They'd be lucky." Max uses the advantage of his longer legs to beat you to the door, opening it for you.

   "Well, let's not wait and find out." You both exit the driver room and make your way to the motorhome, finding Carrie sitting at a table doing some work on her phone. 

   You had already gone off toward the counter saying something about getting coffee leaving Max to talk to Carrie. "Hey, could you just make sure she's comfortable until I'm done?" Carrie looks up at Max through her eyelashes, eyebrows raised. "What?" The smile Max had was mischievous as he knew that Carrie could see through the motive of his award winning hospitality.

   "Yeah, I'll make sure she's comfortable. That's my job isn't it?" She chuckles softly and looks back down at what she was doing on her phone, unable to contain a grin of amusement from watching the driver fall head over heel for the oblivious content creator.

   "This is good coffee." You take a sip from the cup in your hand, smiling and greeting the woman you met earlier in the day. "Hey, wait. You're supposed to be off doing things."

   "I know I just had to talk to Carrie about something." Max's eyes scan down your face, starting at your bright brown eyes traveling down your nose to your lips, which he now noticed were glossed and shiny, but as they reached your cup he could see that some of the gloss has transferred.

   "Well looks like you’re done, so go.” You attempt to shoo him away but he doesn’t move, just grins at you for a moment before reaching his hand out.

   “Let me see your phone.” You squint suspiciously and pout at him but still follow directions, reaching into your bag, grabbing your phone, unlocking it and handing it to him. He taps some things into the phone then hands it back to you.

   “I’ll text you when I’m done. Please don’t leave before that, okay?” His face quickly turned neutral, eyes widening in request for an answer. 

   “Okay, I’ll try.” You crumble under his intense gaze, but still stand firm to flick your head toward the door, to which he finally leaves through after one last amused grin. You plop down in the chair on the opposite side of the table and set your coffee down on the table, all while looking at your phone. It was nothing special, just a text to his own phone that said “Yn’s number”, but it was the fact that he made his own contact name “Maxie”, the look he gave you before leaving, the fact that he urged you to stay and wait for him, it caused a flutter in your chest.

   “We’ve been calling him Maxie around here for the past week. He pretends he doesn’t like it, but we all know he does.” Carrie’s voice breaks through your thoughts and you look up at her, processing the words she just said before grinning shyly, shrugging then looking back down at your phone.

   "He's definitely more of a Maxie." You stare at his contact for one more moment before starting something else on your phone.

   Unfortunately, meetings for Max ran late, made worse due to postponement from his tardiness, so you had to head back to your hotel without seeing him for the rest of Thursday. Friday through Sunday, on the other hand, he did as much as he could to have his eye on you, much to your oblivion. He was not going to go another moment without you in his life.

________________

redbullracing

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 180,036 others

redbullracing A new friend came to hang out with us 😍

View all 423 comments

user5 HOW IS SHE SO PRETTY!?!?!

>redbullracing She said it was a secret 🤫

maxverstappen1 Was so glad to see you again, Yn!

>babygurlyn Was happy to see you again to Maxie! Glad we got to talk 😚

>user7 Talk about what? TALK ABOUT WHAT?

>landonorris Glad I got to meet the woman, the myth, the legend as well 😉

>babygurlyn It was lovely meeting you as well 💖

user6 Max you better come get your admin

>maxverstappen1 I'll keep an eye on them 😐

>redbullracing Hey, Max, hey 👋

redbullracing

Liked by danielricciardo and 167,472 others

realdbullracing Watch out for a video with these two besties #AustrianGP

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user8 I wish my job was trying to set me up with the love of my life 😕

danielricciardo I had the pleasure of watching them film this video, you guys are in for a treat 😁

>maxverstappen1 When were you ever there?

>danielricciardo Exactly 🥷🏼

user9 That's was literally my fav fit from her clothing haul. Absolutely stunning 🥰

babygurlyn I had a great time, but I'll say this right now, you don't want Max Verstappen to teach you how to drive

>maxverstappen1 I was nice

>babygurlyn 🫥

   “Say ‘Hi.’ to the camera, Maxie.” You practically bounce into the studio where Red Bull was filming the Youtube video prior to the Austrian Grand Prix. You couldn't tell that the brightness of Max's face increased ten-fold because you were used to his smile and enthusiasm, but the crew setting up, and surely your viewers once you post this video, can see it, hiding their amusement behind the work they were doing.

   "Oh, hello." He waves to the camera and then smiles his "Hello" to you, one that you respond to with a bright, exaggerated, playful smile.

   "Alright, you guys. I'll talk to you later 'cause this is hush hush. Okay? Byeeee!" You cover the lens and stop the recording, then reach your arm out to give him a side hug. The hug lingers a bit, allowing Max to truly become intoxicated by the vanilla hint in your perfume. "Hi! So, who do I thank for this invitation?"

   "Red Bull. And EA Sports, I guess. This video was a bit of a surprise to me too. I didn’t know they would bring you in, I think they like our dynamic.” Max has to take a step back from you once the hug breaks as precaution, he knew if he stayed too close he would reach out to touch you again. Instead he crosses his arms.

   “Good. I like hanging out with you.” You tilt your head and flash that innocent smile at Max.

   “I-uh-like your outfit. It’s from your new video, isn’t it?” Max pulled that information from the back of his mind, remembering how much he loved you in each outfit tried on in your latest haul, which was the last video he watched after binge watching multiple videos on your channel.

   “You’ve been watching my videos!?” If Max knew this was the face he would’ve gotten after mentioning your content, widened eyes and a smile so wide that your dimples are accentuated due to the rise in your cheekbones, it would’ve been the first thing he said the moment you walked through that door. Heck, he would’ve facetimed you the moment he clicked on the first video.

   “Of course. You come to my races, I watch your videos.” Max had to play it cool. He shrugs out his words, trying to make it seem as much of a normal common courtesy as possible.

   “Well now I gotta make sure I come to all of your races.” You poke Max’s chest, still grinning up at him.

   “I’ll make sure, trust me.” You can feel a shift in the air, the tone of Max’s words playful yet serious, his eyes and the neutral set of his face accentuating the seriousness.

   “You better.” You dramatically flip your ponytail then look at the driving rig set up at the other side of the room. "So, we're using that today?"

   "You're using that today. I'm just instructing." Max smiles at the concern and confusion that morphs onto your face. "Didn't they tell you what they video was?"

   "No. I didn't ask. They told me I was going to be doing a video with you and I just agreed." There goes that, borderline clinically concerning, squeezing of his chest at the mere knowledge that you trusted him enough to just agree to do something with him, no questions asked. Still, he had to use this as a lesson for you.

   "I'm flattered, but from now on, don't agree to anything without asking questions, please?" He gives you that stern raised eyebrow look that threateningly persuades you into answering.

   "Okay, sorry." You try to maintain eye contact but your instincts get the better of you, making you look hesitantly down and away from Max.

   "That's okay, no need for sorry." His smile was back on his face, trying to fix the mood in the air that he could feel changed much more than intended. He was instantly relieved when he saw the reciprocated smile you gave back. "Uh, the video. You will be driving two laps around the Austria track on the game while I direct you on how to do it."

   "Oh, joy." You weren't looking at Max when you answered, instead you were nervous smiling at the set up.

   "What? it won't be that bad. I'm a great teacher." Max crosses his arms and watches skepticism flash across your face.

   "You probably are, but you also seem kinda stern, so that scares me. I also don't know how to drive, so…" You shrug and grin pitifully up at Max.

   "Wait, you don't have your license or anything?" You couldn't help but laugh at the concerned face Max gave you after your admittance, shaking your head to wordlessly answer the question. "Why? How do you get around?" Max was truly concerned. He didn't like the idea of you taking Ubers or anything else with a virtual stranger. If it was up to him, as long as you didn't have a license he would be driving you everywhere. But it's not up to him.

   "Uber, friends, things like that. I literally created a "Ride Money" account instead of just learning how to drive." Max's face doesn't change. "Driving is scary." 

   "No, it's not." You scrunch your eyebrows and pout at his quick matter-of-fact answer.

   "Easy for you to say." You grumble, perking up a bit when a person who seemed to move around like they were in charge of this whole ordeal enters the room.

   "You know what? If all goes well here I think I should teach you how to drive." Max doesn't care about who enters the room, he keeps his eyes on you, watching as your face gives away how much you are trying to listen to the conversation across the room.

   "At your own risk. I'm telling you, the moment I get behind that wheel, my head gets all full and I can't think straight. It's terrible." Your focus was still on the people behind the camera, their attention now on you and Max.

   "I'm sure you'll do fine here and behind the wheel of an actual car. You seem like you pick things up quickly." This compliment tears your attention away from the people and finally brings it back to him.

   "Oh. Well thank you, Maxie." You pause for a beat. " I guess we'll see." Right after you spoke, almost as if it was planned, the person who seemed to be some sort of director for the video approached you two to explain how the video will work. You were listening diligently, nodding intermittently at the words being spoken, but Max, on the other hand, could only focus on you, and while a million things were moving through his head, one problem seemed to stand out: you and your lack of a license. He didn't want you to have to rely on Uber or other people. He wanted to be the one you relied on.

   He wanted to make sure you were getting places safely, even if it was just a short stint of knowing.

   Maybe you could come stay with him over the summer break.

   The bass of the dance music blasting through the speaker of the Ibiza club had you moving and jumping in time with it. That and the 2 vodka cranberries and a Screwdriver that you've had so far. You were on stage in a VIP section behind the DJ, Martin Garrix, a name you know you've heard before who apparently are basically best friends with Max and Lando. Max watched you from the couch, nursing a single beer and keeping an eye on you. He had made a silent rule, known to others in VIP by a simple stern look whenever someone got too close to you, that no one was allowed to dance with you except for Lando, since he had a clear idea of how much Max was intrigued and infatuated by you. When a transition between songs began Max could see you trying to say something to Lando while pointing over at him before jogging, your feet moving in a shuffling manner, toward him.

   "Maxie, come dance!" You grabbed his hands and tried to use all of your own strength to pull him up, almost falling backwards, but Max uses the grip he already has on your hands to pull you back to him, falling into his chest and him basically clamping you there.

   "Maybe flat sandals next time will keep that from happening." You were listening, but your body told you to keep dancing to the music. As the beat crescendoed, preliminary to a bass drop, you twisted with Max, dancing like you're at a middle school dance, still hand in hand.

   "It's not the shoes, I wear these all the time! And the heel is only, like, 3 inches. That was because of the vodka!" You burst out laughing and begin jumping when the beat drops in the song currently playing. 

   "Fine. Just be careful." He gave you a concerned smile, and in response you reached up and briefly squeezed his cheeks.

   "Okaayy! Stop worrying!" You get very touchy feely when you're drunk, you knew it, so while it was a surprise to Max, it was no surprise to you that you started to mess with Max's hair, combing your fingers through the blonde strands. You guys continue dancing, but rather than it being playful like before, there was a lustful longing that moved between you two. It started with the eye contact, the natural squint in his eyes and your eyelids drooping due to you intoxication. Then it was hand placement. Max had rested his hands on your hips and you had wrapped your arms around his neck, bodies pressed against each other. You two were moving to the music, somewhat slowly, but still on beat. This lasted for nearly and entire song but there was a brief moment where you looked away to check the drinks in the table,  noticing that 2 of the juice mixers were gone. You break away and head over, Max following behind immediately. Lando was sitting on the couch, one leg resting on the other, that was until you made it over and picked up the 2 empty bottles, preparing to have to go over to the bar to get more. "They're empty." You pout looking back and forth between the two bottles in your hand.

   "That's what happens when you just drink the juice. We can just ask someone to get some more." Just as Max was lifting his hand to call someone over, you rebuttal.

   "No, I'll go get some. The bar is right over there." You weren't wrong. The bar was just approximately 20 feet off the stage, up against the side wall of the club.

    "I'll come with you." Max offers but you wave him off, grinning widely at him.

    "I got this. I'm a big girl." And without giving him time to protest, you were practically bouncing away and down the stage steps, security posted there blocking the people on the dance floor from you. Max just heads back to the couch, plopping down and keeping an eye on you as you smile and say something to the bartender before handing them the bottles.

   "You're right. She is very oblivious to what you're doing." Lando tells his friend, shouting over the music.

   "So I am obvious?" He turns abruptly, desperate to know how someone outside of you and him saw your interaction.

   "Very." Lando takes a sip of the brown liquid he had in his glass.

   "So why does it seem like she doesn't know?" Max sets his beer down and runs his hands through his hair, which only annoys him more because he now knows what it feels like to have your hands in his hair. A feeling that will forever linger in his mind like everything else you do.

   "Because she probably doesn't. It's Yn we're talking about. You're gonna have to be blunt." Lando downs the rest of what was in his glass and sets it down. Max was going to respond but instinctively his gaze moved over to where you stood by the bar, now accompanied by a man who was very obviously making you uncomfortable.

   "What the fuck?" Was the last thing muttered by Max before he got up and bee lined to the bar.

   Over at the bar a completely different, and unwanted, conversation was going on. This guy, accent indiscernible but still there, partially undone white button down, messed up dark hair and somewhat grown out 5 o'clock shadow, has made himself at home leaning against the bar right next to you.

   "Now what is a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?" He keeps his hands to himself for the time being, one keeping him upright on the bar and the other perched on his hip.

   "Well, I'm not alone i-" You were starting to answer, but the man began interrupting the moment the first word fell from your mouth.

   "I wouldn't let you out of my sight looking like that if you were mine." He began to reach out to pull you closer by your hip, but you smacked his hand away.

   "Well, I'm not yours and I never said-" You were interrupted again.

   "Come on baby. I'll make tonight something you won't forget." Again, that clammy hand reached out for you and you smacked it away again, taking a step backwards and stumbling a bit into a person behind you.

   "Sorry." You say to the person, who seemed to be looking at something in the direction of the perv in front of you that you couldn't quite see so just ignore it. "Listen. Ion want you to touch me, Ion want to go anywhere with you an' 'm not here alone."

   "So who are you here with, 'cause I don't see him around." The guy exaggeratedly looks around the vicinity like he's looking out at sea then turns back to you mockingly.

   "She's with me, asshole." You don't know when Max showed up, standing extremely close to your side, but it soon clicked that the person you bumped into was watching Max storm over your way.

   "Dude, you're Max Verstappen." The guy has his mouth wide open in shock, eyes full of pure joy from seeing the driver, as if he wasn't harassing you just moments before.

   "And you were fucking with my girlfriend." The words just slipped out before he could stop them, but in the meantime that was second in his mind to the situation at hand.

   "Hey, if I knew she was your girl, I would've-" The guy started to take a few steps back but was yanked closer again by Max grabbing his shirt.

   "You shouldn't be doing this shit to any woman." Max's hand started twitching, he wanted to punch the asshole so bad, but a small nudge with your elbow parted those dark clouds for him and made him look at you, hand still holding the guy by his shirt. You lift up the glass bottles of orange juice and cranberry juice.

   "I have the juices. Let's head back. He's not worth it, anyway." You were holding eye contact with Max, but a quick flash of your eyes to his hand clued him into the fact that his hand was in a fist that he quickly releases along with the guy. He then turns to take the bottles from you, occupying his hands.

   "Let's go." He lets you walk ahead of him, watching you walk past before following you, scowling at the guy as he passes. "Stop being a dick." We the last words he muttered to him before fully following you to the on-stage VIP section.

   "Are you okay?" Max finally asks after setting down the bottles and placing his hands on your shoulders.

   "Maxie, I'm fine." You play with the bottom hem of his shirt grinning innocently up at him.

   "Okay, okay." Neither of you move for a moment, just looking into each other's eyes before your brain bounces back to the previous encounter.

   "I held my own down there, didn't I?" Your smile brightens as you talk about how proud you were of yourself, and Max gave you an almost equal smile in return.

   "Yes, you did. I'm proud." Max's tone was playful to match yours, but he truly was surprised at how you had handled yourself, not letting the man persuade you.

   "Yay! Now, let's finish out this night with a bang!" You let go of Max's shirt and skip over to the table and take one of the stacked small plastic cups and pour a small shot of straight Belvedere vodka, smiling mischievously at Max after you do. You were going to drive him crazy.

_______

   "Noooo. Don't go. Help me get ready for bed." You hold on to Max's hand trying to pull him into your hotel room after finally getting back from the club. Max had unlocked it, since he kept your key for you, and was just holding the door open waiting for you to walk in.

   "You don't need me to help. You'll be fine. Remember, you're a big girl." He reiterated your claim from earlier in the night, removing his hand from the door and replacing it with his back so he could push back your locs that were all askew from your bouncy movements.

   "I lied. I'm a baby that needs help getting in her pajamas." You were pouting now, swinging Max's arm back and forth. He had to take a moment to admire your face, soft, innocent. You were the definition of loveliness.

   "Fine. In." You cheer and skip inside. "But I am not going to help you into your pajamas."

   After entering your room he helped you with the basics of getting ready to go to bed, like helping you out of your shoes, finding a makeup wipe to at least get some of what you were wearing off and getting out an oversized T-shirt and what seemed like pajama shorts while you brushed your teeth, which was after he spent 3 minutes coaxing you to do so.

   "Don't you want the shorts?" Max held them out to you while you climbed into bed with only the oversized shirt over your undergarments.

   "No, it's too hot for that." You cuddle under the heavy hotel bed blanket then flutter your eyelashes at Max. "You gotta kiss me goodnight, boyfriend." You waggle your eyebrows after making Max for his words from earlier. The words he hoped and prayed you didn't pay attention to.

   "I thought you didn't hear that." He walks over slowly to the head of your bed, smiling nervously.

   "Oh I did. I thought it was funny that was what you went with, but it did the trick." You giggle and poke his side, the physical representation of you metaphorically bursting his balloon. You thought what he said was just an act. Of course.

   "Yeah, well…" He shrugged and stood there, contemplating whether or not he was going to tell you. Right now didn't feel like the right time, and his hesitation made it worse. No, not now, but soon.

   "Come on, sir. Still waiting for my kiss." You were pointing toward your forehead, right in between your eyebrows, to which Max sighs but obliges to, giving you a short peck in the forehead. You don't let him go though. Next you point to your nose and again you receive a short peck. Then you finally point to your now exaggeratedly puckered lips.

   "I'm not kissing your lips." This can't be the moment he first kissed you. It was supposed to be much more grand than this. That's what you deserved, but you insisted.

   “Come on, I’m not asking you to make out with me. Just a small peck.” You pucker your lips again and after a small moment of hesitation, Max bends down to kiss you, gently placing his lips on yours. It happened in slow motion and felt like it lasted eternity, or at least you both wish it lasted eternity. The small kiss made both of your heads swirl, but unfortunately for Max, you just blamed it on your intoxication. When he pulled back you were looking at him with a soft, sweet look, an equally sweet grin on your lips, enticing him for more, but instead he straightened up, still keeping his gaze down on you. “Goodnight, Maxie.”

   “Goodnight, Yn.” Max smiles at you one last time then heads toward the door of your room, turning off the light and then finally exiting. He was going to tell you. He had to tell you. Soon.

babygurlyn

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 118,307 others

babygurlyn Summer Summer Summer Time,☀️

tagged maxverstappen1, landonorris and martingarrix

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user10 So glad I'm part of this multiverse timeline 🥲

user11 I'm gonna need to know who took the first pic. It's for research.

>maxverstappen1 🖐🏻

>user11 THE ANSWER THE WORLD WANTED

maxverstappen1 Glad you were able to come along on the summer break

>babygurlyn Glad I was invited 🥰 (not glad you took a Zoom meeting in the middle of our boat day🥺)

>user13 Say sorry, Max 🫵🏽

>maxverstappen1 Sorry 😔

landonorris I call doing Yn's make-up the next video, I know I can do better

>maxverstappen1 not if your life depended on it

>user14 Coming next summer: Who can be a better mua for Yn

_____________

   You strain to reach a large bowl on a high shelf in a cabinet of Max’s kitchen, the last piece needed for everything to be ready for making the chocolate chip cookies you convinced Max were necessary for you to have the best Christmas visit. As you reach, a fingertip away, you hear Max clear his throat, startling you. “Hi. I almost had it.”

   Max slowly walks over your way and easily reaches up to take the bowl you were reaching for down, then turns to you with his arms crossed. “Ask for help.”

   “I almost had it, jeez.” You take the bowl and place it near the ingredients that you rounded up for the cookies. The attitude you responded to him with had Max stunned. All he did was help you…

   “Hey, what’s wrong?” Max follows you. Watching as you slowly grew more frustrated, going over the items on the counter over and over again and not retaining any of the information you were taking in.

   “Nothing.” You grumble, still just looking at the items on the counter.

   “Yn…” Max wanted to reach out and touch you so badly, pull you into him and kiss away whatever negative feeling was consuming you, but instead he places his hand on the counter and stoops his head down to get a glimpse of your face.

   “You act like I can’t do anything for myself,” You snap, turning to look at him, his face scrunched in confusion. He could tell you were going to continue, so he stayed silent. “And you say you think I’m so smart and strong and independent and you like that stuff about me but you're always there doing things for me and I don’t know why! Are you lying? Just saying that stuff to not hurt my feelings cause you actually think I can’t take care of myself?”

   “I know you can. That’s why I do it. You can and you’ve had to for too long.” Your face doesn’t change, still angry but slightly confused at what Max was trying to say. Now it was time for Max to be unhinged. “I don’t think you understand. It’s instinct, what I do for you. I can’t just sit back and watch you struggle. I don’t want you to ever have to struggle, even with the smallest of things.” 

   “Why?” That one word was Max’s last straw. Nothing could keep him from telling you how he really felt.

   “I’m in love with you. I was just going to say that I like you a lot, but I would be lying and I would never lie to you. I love you, Yn.” It was almost instantaneous how quick the anger dissipated from your face.

   “Oh, Maxie, I-” Max hated to have to interrupt you, but he had to finish what he was saying. Everything he had been holding in for months.

   “Wait, please.” You nod and Max takes a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t know when I fell in love with you, but I knew the moment you ran into me that I couldn’t live without you. You were it for me. So that is why I treat you the way I do. Not because I don’t think you can do anything, but because I think you are too precious to lift a finger.” You two just look at each other, waiting for the other to say something. “That’s the best way I can put it.”

   “Maxie,” He raises eyebrows at you, worried about what your next words will be. You lift one finger. “First, never cut me off again.” Max cracks a smile at how serious you got, but agrees and waits for your next point. You lift up a second finger. “Second, why aren’t your lips on mine?”

   If people thought he was fast on track, that couldn’t even compare to how quick Max pulled you into a breathtaking kiss, hands starting on your shoulders and slowly sliding up to the sides of your face. You just wrapped your arms around his torso, finally relaxing in the arms of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about. Max felt as though he was finally alive, kissing you. Like he was merely existing before and you were the singular breath of oxygen that he needed to truly be alive. He started to walk you backwards out of the kitchen, kissing you deeper and deeper, over and over again. 

   “Wait, the cookies…” You weren’t sure if you were really concerned about the cookies, because you truthfully just wanted more of Max, but still you moaned out the words. 

   “Fuck the cookies.” Max says against your lips before turning you around and playfully chasing you to his room.

maxverstappen1

Liked by babygurlyn and 238,579 others

maxverstappen1 It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year ☃️

tagged babygurlyn

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babygurlyn You used the caption I suggested 🥹

>maxverstappen1 It's a fairly common Christmas song

>babygurlyn Let me have this win, please 🥺

>maxverstappen1 Of course, I apologize

user15 Is it just me or does this give soft launch 🧐

>user16 No, no you're on to something

landonorris Why wasn't I invited?

>danielricciardo ?

>redbullracing ??

>maxverstappen1 Why can't I just have peace and quiet 🤦🏼‍♂️

_________

Max quickly made it a habit to have frequent check-ins with you during sex. He knew how rough he could get if he wasn't cognizant of his partner's feelings or needs and the last thing he ever wanted was for you to get hurt because he forgot himself.

   "Fuck, you have no idea how much I adore your fucking pussy. Always fits me so nicely." Max was on his knees between your legs, one hand grasping your left hip, stabilizing your lower half that was already propped up by a pillow, and the other hand clamping both arms up above your head. 

   "Fuck, Max, this feels so good." You groan, then wince at a smack that you receive on your left ass cheek, soon smiling after because you knew it was coming.

   "You did that on purpose, you little slut." You were able to manage a laugh in the midst of a moan as Max thrusted sharply into you, completely changing his rhythm to something slower but harsher. He looks away from your face for a moment, turning his attention to his dick moving in and out of you, your slick gathering more and more around him with every hitch of his hips. His attention then goes to your clit, needy and swollen and begging to be touched, and he does, using the juices coming from you to make it easier to rub languid circles on the nub. You let out whine, borderline sob, from the new sensation and Max immediately looked back up at your face, needing to see what pretty look had settled on it now. Instead of one look he was greeted with a series of them. First a partial lip bite, just the inside portion of your lip, as you looked down to watch for yourself, not knowing which sight you loved more, watching his hips thrust into your propped up pussy, or Max's long slender fingers rubbing circles on your clit. This led to look number two, which was you releasing your lips and looking up at Max, mouth agape, breathy moans and whines flowing unrestricted. This was Max's favorite look, your innocent eyes on him, flashes of lust and love presenting themselves as he fucks you so sinfully. Which is why Max abandoned his hold on your wrists to correct your last look, which was more lacking thereof since you turned your head to the side in an attempt to bury your head in your shoulder. With his newly unoccupied hand, Max grasps your face to make you look at him.

   "Don't hide your face, love. You look fucking beautiful being fucked by my cock." When you finally look at him he can see a new glossiness in your eyes.

   "Mmm Maxie…" Your voice had gone up an octave, another indication that something unfamiliar was happening.

   "Yes, love? You okay?" Max stops moving his hips but keeps a slow soothing pace on your clit as he waits for you to respond.

   "Mhm. My head feels fuzzy. Can't think." This made Max release your face and stop the movement on your clit completely.

   "Oh, are you alright? Do you want me to stop?" Of course his first reaction is one of true concern. As stated before, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

   "Nooo…" Your response was whiny and accompanied with a pitiful pout that made unspeakable thoughts run through Max's head.

   "Okay, okay." He starts to caress your clit again, a sensation you seem to enjoy given the small mewls that vibrate from your throat, as he assesses the moment. His first decision was to change positions, something simpler that allowed him a bit better control of your body, which he realized became somewhat floppy, like a rag doll once your mind traveled to this unknown state. He slowly removes himself from you and momentarily stops rubbing, both losses of sensations evoking a slightly bratty whine that is absolutely adorable to him. "Give me just a moment and I'll stuff my pretty girl full again, okay?" 

   "Okay." You nod, face blank and waiting for your next instruction.

   "Fucking hell," Max said this under his breath, eyes scanning your entire body before bring his mind back to his previous task. "Move down to the end of the bed for me, love." You do so, eagerly bouncing down to the foot of the bed with an mostly innocent grin. Max definitely saw a flash of animalistic desire in your cute face. While you did that, he got fully off the bed and stood at the foot of the bed thanking his lucky stars that the height of it perfectly aligned you with his hips.

   "Maxie!" You whined and eagerly wiggled your hips, which was all the confirmation he needed for him to enter you again. He still pushed in slowly, you were already tight around him before, and now with you in what seems like a considerably sensitive mental state, he didn't want to take any chance being too rough.

   "Fuck, my pretty girl feels so good around me." He stilled himself in you as he brought your legs up to wrap lazily around his hips. You, nonverbally begging for some movement, began to buck your hips while Max tried to situate himself.

   "Yn, I'm gonna need you to be a good girl and stop moving for a second." His voice had a bit of sternness to it that made you stop immediately, but also caused your eyebrows to furrow in worry. "No, baby, I'm sorry. I just need a moment, okay." He waits for you to nod and the does a few more adjustments, pulling your hips closer, deciding that your right leg was the best to hold up against his hip, and moving some of your locs that got into your face during the position change before finally settling that left hand by your head and hitching his hips back so he could start his pace again. It started slow, he was still getting used to the position and angle change, but soon his previous pace was back with a vengeance. His partially bent over angle caused the top of his pelvis to graze your clit, a sensation that was amplified due to the general excessive sensitivity of the nub along with the vulnerable state of your mind. This happened with every sensation for you, it was all overwhelming, all felt too good, and instinctively you covered your face with open palms so Max couldn't see how uninhibited your facial expressions get when you were in a pure state of lust. Max wasn't having it though.

   "What did I say before, love? Don't hide your face. You make such pretty faces when I fuck you." He took his hand that rested on the bed and grasped one of your hands away from your face. "Rub your clit with the other hand for me, baby." You immediately follow directions, reaching down and rubbing quick circles on the nub, chasing a climax you could feel coming. "Slower, love. Slower." You slow down the speed of your fingers but start to buck your hips in an attempt to meet Max's thrusts, which he allows. He just loves seeing his pretty little girl get off on his cock.

   "I wanna cum, Maxie. Help." It had only been a moment since he told you to slow your hand and you were back at the fast pace that indicated you were fast approaching your orgasm.

   "Okay, baby. I'll help you. Move your hand." You remove your hand from your clit to allow Max to replace it with his own, which also meant he had to let go of your other hand. "Play with your tits for me, love. Just don't cover that pretty little fucked out face of yours." You bring your hands to your chest, squeezing and rolling your nipple between two fingers, causing a sensation that definitely helped toward your ultimate goal of cumming. Max had to keep tabs on himself as well, feeling his own self coming close to his end with each squeeze he received from your clenching pussy.

   " 'm cumming!" This exclamation was followed by a long sobbing whine and your pussy spastically clenched around Max's dick, which removed quick yet carefully from you, still continuing to stroke himself and rub your clit, gently now to help bring you down. He leaned over to give you a sloppy, unfocused kiss as he chased his own climax he was achieving with his hand. As he got closer he removed his hand from your clit and placed it next to your torso, bracing himself as he finally reached his orgasm, his forehead pressed against yours as strings of cum landed on your stomach.

   Max had to take a moment to catch his breath before thinking of what to do next. After a few seconds, he looked up at your face. Your eyes were closed but he could tell you were still awake and coming down from your orgasm from the quiet whines that vibrated through your chest. He then regains enough balance to head to the bathroom and grab a warm damp towel that he first presses against your sensitive pussy, pressing kisses on your forehead as he does so, then uses it to wipe the cum off of your stomach. He was about to go and take it to the laundry room, but you gently grabbed his unoccupied hand, stopping him in his tracks. You say no words, just open up your arms, inviting him in for a cuddle and he does not hesitate to toss the used rag into the empty hamper and fall back into bed with you, first helping you back up to the head of the bed before pulling you into a bear hug. It was almost surprising to Max how quick you fell asleep once he pulled you into his arms, but it sure was the most lovely sight he has ever seen. He loved watching you sleep, being able to see the peace settle over your face. From here, he could done what he usually does in this position, recount the good the bad and the ugly of how he got to this moment with you, especially with you two making your relationship public just a couple weeks prior, but instead, for the first time ever, he just dozes off to sleep, trying to figure out what to do for breakfast.

#black reader #formula 1 #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #request #f1 x black!reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #max verstappen smut #f1 smau #max Verstappen scenario #FINALLY FREAKING DONE 🥳 #Spotify

[bloatedandalone04]

Fluff → 💕 | Angst → 💋 | Smut → 🔥

All works are written by me and are not given consent to be reposted anywhere else other than my own account (reblogs are fine)

HEADCANONS ↡

Yandere Ethan 💕

Dating Ethan Landry would include: 💕 🔥

Ethan In Bed 🔥

IMAGINES ↡

Romance is (not) Dead 💕💋 💌

↦the one where ethan is your boyfriend and you’re his alibi. 

Needy 💕🔥

↦the one where ethan is desperate to get you all to himself. 

Lips of an Angel 💕💋

↦the one where ethan falls in love with you from the moment he saw you. 

The First Cut is the Deepest 💕💋🔥

↦the one where you break up then make up. 

A Dream of You and Me 💕

↦the one where ethan finally has an excuse to talk to you.

Tainted Heart 🔥

↦the one where you encourage ethan’s thirst for the kill.

Vintage T-Shirt 💕🔥

↦the one where you and ethan make out for the first time.

The End of Love 💋

↦the one where you break up but still love each other.

Kiss Full of Color 💕🔥

↦the one where you and ethan sleep together for the first time.

Ruin Our Friendship 💕🔥

↦the one where you’re friends and hook up at a party.

High off Love 💋

↦the one where ethan mistook your kindness for love.

I Can't Save Us 💋

↦the one where things go terribly wrong during the big reveal.

Out of Sight 💕🔥

↦the one where ethan can't keep his hands off you during a group dinner.

Songs I Play When I’m Alone 💕

↦the one where ethan makes you playlist of songs that remind him of you.

Afterglow 🔥

↦the one where ethan caves and helps you get off after teasing you for hours.

Million Dollar Boy 💕💋

➪the one where you’re the other ghostface and ethan accidentally hurts you.

The Love Drug 💕

➪the one where you and ethan get drunk and confess your feelings for one another.

Can I Be Him 💕

➪the one where anika and chad set you up.

MINI-SERIES ↡

Cry Me A River 💕💋  

↦the one where you cheat on chad with ethan.

Are You Gonna Be My Girl 💕🔥

↦the one where you hookup with ethan after an argument with chad. (prequel to CMAR)

#scream 6 ethan #scream 6 imagines #ethan scream 6 #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry x reader #fluff #angst #scream 6 #ethan landry #scream 6 x reader #smut #ethan landry smut #navigation #ethan landry masterlist

[valya-dudycz-lupescu]

Musings on Ice-Pick Joe

I'm not sure why no one is talking about Ice-Pick Joe's death scene, especially with rumors of the Ice-Pick Joe prequel circulating the internet.

The scene where Ice-Pick Joe walked by Sofia's window on his way to the fateful meeting with Katya, stopping to lean against the light post long enough to see two silhouettes come together. (I can't be the only one who was getting Blue Velvet vibes in that scene?) Why isn't anyone talking about his longing? The voyeurism? His fear of abandonment stemming from childhood trauma...after all, his mother picked him, of all his siblings, to leave at the orphanage! She left him with nothing but those appleseeds that he carried around in his pockets.

I'm absolutely sure that Sofia was the unnamed child in Joe's flashback (Jodie Foster was so good as the scrappy, androgynous best friend. She did have a limp in that scene when they were running from the cemetery. We don't actually know at what age Sofia lost her leg. And Donny Osmond was the perfect young Ice-Pick Joe!)

If you watch closely, she had the same birthmark on her shoulder in that first awkward kiss scene that Sofia had when she and Katya fought that night of her birthday, when she ripped her blouse and threw her glass of champagne at the wall.)

But back to Joe on the empty street, those shadows against the wall like shadow puppets, and the way the clock motif came back at that moment? Such haunting music, reprised again in the film score during Joe's death (I still cry when I hear "The Demise of Ice-Pick Joe". Linking to it here, because I played it on repeat when the movie was over. Brilliant and haunting.)

Remember how the flashbacks showed us that Ice-Pick Joe was really superstitious and believed that he had inherited his grandmother's gifts? If you watch the way Joe looks at the shadows and then down at his watch, you can see him hesitate before going to the docks. Was he hearing voices?

Most people agree that the shadows on the wall looked like a child, but I'm not sure that Ice-Pick Joe's hesitation to go to the dock was about his own son. I think the shadows looked more like that kiss flashback when he and Sofia were children. The frame and perspective are almost the same angle, as if they are being watched from below.

Either way, he is clearly making the choice to leave the past behind that brings him to his tragic and senseless death.

I would love to know what happened that took that gentle young Joe who loved to sing and turned him into the tortured stoic we meet in Goncharov, the only affection reserved for his cat, Mrs. Claws.

(I can't help but wonder if they meant for her to be an echo of Le Befana, the Italian winter witch-goddess who sometimes gets translated as Mrs. Claus? After all, his mama's last words to him when she kissed him goodbye were, "If you're a very good boy, maybe La Befana will bring you to a new home on Epiphany morning, a warm home full of food and presents." Poor Joe never finds that home.) You know, I think that was the first time I heard about Le Befana, and that was one of the inspirations that led me down the road to my own version of Mother Christmas.

Does anyone know if it's true that the Ice-Pick Joe prequel got permission to use "Hotel California" as its theme song? I wonder if we're going to get the story of his time as an unskilled laborer in the vineyards of Napa in the 60s? I was never clear about how he got to America and then back to Italy with a small fortune and hitman skills? They're saying it's like Better Call Saul meets the Sopranos meets Twin Peaks. I'm here for it, especially if they can get Cole Sprouse to play young Ice-Pick Joe.

#goncharov 1973 #goncharov #ice pick joe #soundtrack #film score #meowmeow #jodie foster #John Cazale #cole sprouse #martin scorsese #katya michailov #goncharov fanart #mother christmas #la befana #mrs. claws #cats of goncharov #prequel #donny osmond #sofia #ice-pick joe #Youtube #unreality #gonchposting

[osiris-iii-bc]

Secondo Emeritus - Naples

Primo | Secondo | Terzo

Naples. My beautiful Naples. My beloved, adored Naples. It is the city where I studied and grew up in and it is also literally filled with mysteries and legends. I thought Naples would have been the perfect formation place for a young Secondo Emeritus. Let’s see what may have influenced and inspired him in his religious journey.

1 - The musical church. 

Ghost’s music has always been heavily loaded with the Devil’s Tritone: also called Diabulus in Musica or Devil’s Interval, it is an unsettling dissonance produced by an unusual arrangement of notes that gives that spooky, devilish tone to music. In Infestissumam, it was featured on 9 out of 10 songs. The use of the Tritone was banned in Medieval times (In Ghost, its use dramatically dropped with Prequelle, with only 2 out of 10 songs featuring it). So what if I tell you that, in contrast, in Naples there is a church that functions as a musical score, whose music protects it from evil?

Basically, there is a church in Piazza del Gesù that has a particular pointy ashlar on the external facade. Under the side (the one facing the ground, so if you look up from the street you can see them) of each of these little pyramids are carved symbols, which turned out to be Aramaic letters that were later translated into musical notes. So, it turned out that the whole church is a big score, and it’s playable. The whole melody, called Enigma, was played for the first time inside the church to celebrate the discovery. You can hear the music here (sound quality is not the best).

Will it protect the church from Ghost’s music?

2 - The skull cult.

Naples has very intricate underground galleries, almost all visitable. One of these is Cimitero delle Fontanelle, a famous catacomb where the remains of about 40.000 people who died from plagues are stored. It is said the “anime pezzentelle” cult was born here: it is a particular relationship each Neapolitan establishes with a chosen skull. You literally adopt an abandoned skull, which according to our tradition is the seat of the soul, and your duty is to care for it, protect it and also create a special niche for it. In exchange, the soul of that skull will protect you.

A nice place for a Bone Daddy.

3 - Pretty and Evil like Mergellina’s devil.

Knowing the passion our Secondo has for women, here is a story about a very devilish one.

In Santa Maria del Prato church, in the Mergellina area, there is the only representation of the devil as a woman in a painting.

The legend has it that said woman was the beautiful Vittoria D’Avalos, who seduced the Bishop Diomede Carafa, who commissioned the painting in 1542 to represent his victory against the woman’s lust (we're all believing him, right? 🙄).

Now that story has a way of saying that refers to femmes fatales as “Pretty and Evil like Mergellina’s devil”.

I’d say she may be considered among the first-ever Sisters of Sin. 

4 - Who gives life can also take it.

Infestissumam is filled with references to birth and Jesus, turning it into the birth of the antichrist and creating a narrative that is completely opposite to the birth of the Son of Man. Now, in Naples, there is a statue that embodies both concepts.

Back to Piazza del Gesù: On a very high pedestal in the center of the square stands a statue of the Virgin Mary, the Mother. That's all... until you position yourself at a specific point in the square and look up to see the statue transformed into the Reaper. His face is hidden by the cowl, staring straight at you, with a sickle at its feet and a snake crawling on it.

Depending on your point of view, the giver of life becomes the taker of it.

5 - Body and Blood… but especially blood.

What never stops to fascinate me about the relationship of Neapolitans with religion is the very thin line between devotion and pure blasphemy. It is the case of the “miracle” of San Gennaro’s blood. It happens twice a year and it consists in bringing the Saint’s blood in a liquid state again (after centuries it is obviously solidified). The particular thing is that during this ritual, the worshippers (and the priests too) literally insult the saint to convince him to make the miracle happen, because if it doesn’t work, it means that something terrible is about to happen.

(Last time it didn’t work was right before the Covid pandemic 🙂)

I’d say this could have been a great inspiration for Body and Blood and Idolatrine.

Honorable mention to the fact that I have lived 32 years now on this Earth and I never attended this event even though I would like to.

Bonus: Now, I said that Dante would come back in the chapters, and he is. In fact, not only Virgilio died in Naples (and he is the protector of the city) but, apparently, the gates of Hell Dante mentioned in his comedy were located on the Averno lake, near Pozzuoli, not far from Naples.

#the band ghost #ghost theory #papa emeritus ii #secondo emeritus #secondo #papa secondo #ghost fandom #Italian cities #ghost band theories

[edupunkn00b]

Variations on a Sin, Ch. 4: Gluttony

Prev - Gluttony - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ] Written for @intrulogicalweek's Seven Deadly Sins Creative Week

CW: references to suicidal ideation, alcohol

“Good afternoon, Teach!” Remus grinned at Logan from the front door, head bopping to some mental melody. “Oh, nice tie! Wheat field With Crows? You know everyone picks Starry Starry Night as their favorite but that one’s mine.”

He gave Logan a little bow and then revealed the coffees hiding behind his back. “Black coffee, it’s a small, I noticed you didn’t finish yours the last time and I thought maybe you were trying to keep your caffeine intake low at this time of the day. But you did say you take your first coffee of the day differently, which sounded like you do have more than just the one coffee in the morning,” Remus laughed as he hung his coat. 

“Unless you just slam them back like a drinking game! Oh, how fun would that be to have a coffee drinking game instead of alcohol?”

Smoothing down his tie with a small smile, Logan turned and closed the door. “Good afternoon, Remus, and thank you, for both the coffee and the compliment. I have quite a few Van Gogh ties, actually, but, yes, this one is my favorite, as well.”

“Hm, a man with good taste,” Remus winked and started toward the piano, then suddenly swirled around to face Logan again. “Oh, right, about taste, you said your first coffee of the day was different from the rest. How do you take your morning coffee? Are you an espresso snob or do you hunker down with a big ol’ latte and the news?”

He laughed as he sat backwards on the bench, drained the last of his coffee, then flipped his legs around, flexing his fingers. “Ha, that reminds me of the coffee gremlin TikTok, that’s what I’m like in the morning,” he laughed again. “Need that caffeine! So, Teach, what should I start with today?”

Logan blinked, mouth opening, then closing again. Finally, he nodded and brought out the stack of staff paper they’d been adding to over the past three week’s worth of lessons. “I was planning to resume our work to transcribe your composition. The extra time together has certainly helped your progress.” He sat down on the bench next to Remus and smiled. “Does that work for you?”

A bright grin split Remus’ face and he nodded, heels tapping on the floor. “That sounds great,” he nodded and ran a little trill over the keys. “Where should I start?”

The next hour flew by, with Remus playing and replaying sections, sometimes slowing down and repeating more complex measures a few times as Logan’s pencil flew over the page. When they filled a page with notation, Logan would play the piece off the sheet music to confirm he’d captured it correctly.

When they’d first started, Remus would just listen and remember where he needed to fix something. By now, Remus listened with the pencil in his hand, following along and marking the music as Logan played.

Ordinarily, at least.

Today, when Logan finished, he looked up and Remus sat staring at him, mouth stretched in a smile. “You play beautifully, Teach.”

Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, hoping the movement hid the flush he felt grow over his face. “Merely adequate, I am sure.”

“No.” Remus reached for his arm. “No, your whole face glows when you play. And your eyes are so sharp, laser-focused on the sheet music.”

“I am merely seeking to ensure I play what’s on the page and not what I remember.”

“It’s captivating,” Remus whispered.

Staring down at Remus’ hand on his arm, Logan opened his mouth but before any words could come out. Remus’ phone began to buzz in his pocket. They were sitting close enough that Logan could feel it, so he slid over a few inches and cleared his throat again. “Is that your alarm for the lesson?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Remus watched him as he pulled out his phone to silence it, then put it back in his pocket. His knee bounced before he suddenly jumped up and started to gather his things. "Yeah, I should go." He rushed toward the door and Logan hurried to see him out. “Um, same time tomorrow?” It sounded more like a genuine question than his now-standard farewell typically sounded.

“Yes, I am looking forward to it,” Logan said, smiling as he held open the door.

Remus’ smile was so sudden, so bright, that Logan realized he hadn’t smiled since he’d picked up his phone. “Well… see you, Teach,” he said, giving Logan a little wave from the bottom of his porch steps before he took off down the street toward the bus.

The next afternoon, Remus arrived early again, proudly presenting two more coffees. He was more talkative than usual, even asking questions as he played. Uncharacteristically, he would then miss notes or skip entire sections of the piece. The constant questions made it difficult for Logan to track both the corrections and his queries, often failing to keep up with one while he barely managed the other. As the lesson wore on, Remus’ hands shook against the keys, even while he was playing, and finally Logan stopped him.

“Remus,” his voice was soft, barely audible over the sound of the piano, and Remus jumped when he touched his arm. “Remus, are you alright? You seem a little…”

“Jumpy?” Remus finished, tapping his toes arhythmically against the foot pedals with a nervous little laugh. “Yeah, I… um… I didn’t sleep well last night. You know how it is. Too many thoughts, too many ideas, but too tired to finish any of them. It… yeah.” He turned back to the piano, picking out a new melody, his smile strained.

Logan noticed he kept replaying the same pattern with different notes, as though he was catching mistakes that only he would know. “Would it be helpful to end early today so you can rest?”

“No, I… I can do it.” His fingers trembled against the keys. “I just need…” He tucked his hands under his legs on the bench. He looked up at Logan and suddenly his smile dissolved. “Yeah. I’ll go. Y—you’re right… some… some rest would be good.”

Nodding, Logan gave his shoulder a little squeeze. “You’ll come back fresh in two days.”

“Two? Oh, right… It’s Wednesday.” His next lesson was Friday afternoon. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m… I’ll head out. You know, I gotta make a run to Bartell’s anyway, you know, before they close.” He nodded, hands shaking as he pulled on his jacket.

“Are you quite certain you do not need a ride? I’d be happy to…”

“Nah, nah, that’s okay, I mean, thanks but… You have another student coming in just a bit anyway. It’s only four blocks. I grew up in Capitol Hill, I know how to walk.”

“Very well,” Logan nodded, watching Remus’ movements carefully. He was tense but still had that little bounce to his steps and his head bopped to the rhythm of whatever song was running through his mind. “See you Friday?”

Remus grinned, a little shaky, but still a smile, “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

~~~

After the door closed behind him, Remus turned around and stared at the autumn wreath on the door. Logan had changed it since his first visit. That one had been jet black, with bright orange and purple Halloween colored bows and little cartoon witches and pumpkins and shit all over it.

Remus wondered what Logan’s winter wreath would look like. He bet it was one of those really classy snowscape ones with silver and deep blue velvet, obviously something that could work for Christmas but not so in your face that it made you want to puke peppermint mocha all over it. Maybe Logan added little bells that rang when he opened the door, a little jingle jingle for every student who came and went. He bet it'd be beautiful. Yeah. Yeah, he’d like to see that.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, the cold wet air not unusual for this late in November, but it left Remus’ hands stiff and achy and it made it a bitch to play. It would get better if he kept moving.

Head down, hiding from the cold wind, he started down the street and before he even realized it, he was inside the store.

“Good evening, sir, welcome to Battell’s!” the cashier said automatically, barely looking up. He didn’t really give a fuck and neither did she, just doing her job so when you took the shitty little survey at the end you could say you were greeted.

Remus headed straight to the customer service counter. He needed replacement blades for his electric razor and nowadays they kept all that shit under lock and key. He rocked back and forth, Logan’s composition playing on a loop in his mind. He was able to repeat parts or tun it backwards or speed it up. There was this one part section the highest notes just repeated and he liked to play that part again and again in his mind, backward and forward like a dance, Fred and Ginger running through his mind. Yeah.

Fred Estaire could dance but Ginger Rogers did it all backwards and in fucking thee inch heels, just like Logan’s music. Who gave a fuck if he could play? Remus was born with a piano in his hands, slapping at the keys at Bubbe’s house before he was tall enough to see them. And Logan?

Logan had to fucking work at it. And he still made it look easy when he played.

Remus stood right in front of the little round Norelco blades as he waited. Nice and round, silver mesh covering the blades to make 'em safe. They were a bitch to take apart and you usually ended up tearing up your fingers when you tried just enough to remind you why it was a a bad idea.

Straight blades were easier.

Those were at the other end of the display. Little green and white boxes, single sided or double. Double was nice. No matter how fucked up you were, you really couldn’t do it wrong. He stepped a little closer, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The bright green labels reminded him of the old Crayola crayon boxes. Bubbe had one of those, too. She’d refill it with the cheap ones, but Remus always knew.

He stepped a little closer, staring at the boxes.

Just buying them wouldn’t hurt, right? They were useful. A tool to keep around the house. Opening boxes, envelopes, wrists.

“Can I help you?” the bored voice of an angel asked.

“Uh, yeah. I need blades,” Remus stared at her bright pink eyeglass frames. He wondered if Logan had always worn thick black ones or if he’d ever had an Elton John phase with big sparkly ass things.

“What kind, sir?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at the eighteen different styles behind her. Her voice was tired but she wasn’t rushing him and he appreciated that shit more than she would ever fucking know.

“Still deciding,” he said, playing Logan’s composition in his head. He stood there just long enough for the clerk to start to walk away.

He wanted to see that wreath.

“Uh, yeah, lemme get the Norelcos. Twelve pack,” he finally said, pointing to the round little safety blades in their cartridges. His eyes darted up to the top shelf near the register as he took out his wallet and his debit card.

“Anything else?” she asked, leaning on the counter and shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her feet must be killing her. They didn’t even bother to keep a fucking mat back there. Call OSHA, hon, or at least tell your boss you’re gonna.

Again, he looked at the shelf above her head.

“And a bottle of Jack, please." He watched her take it down. "Um, make that two.”

#variations on a sin #ts logan #ts remus #logan sanders #remus hyde #prequel to play us a song #yes‚ you know what that means #love and madness series #intrulogical #intrulogical week #intrulogicalweek2022 #spoiler tags follow #there is another story before Play Us a Song

[ghoul-slime]

Mushy May Day 3 & 4 - Massage & Wound Tending/First Aid (Aether/Dew)

Ended up combining days 3 and 4 into one fic. Based loosely on that time Dew (presumably) injured his arm during the Prequelle era. As always, thank you @forlorn-crows for organizing this and to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!

Day 3 & 4 - Massage & Wound Tending/First Aid (Aether/Dew), cw for Dew's shoulder injury. Hurt/comfort, fluff, 1518 words

Aether notices it right away. The way Dew seems to be favoring one arm. The way he furrows his brow and rolls his shoulder seemingly every five minutes. How he makes soft little grunts and sighs of discontent at night when he’s trying to settle into his bunk above Aether’s on the bus. 

When he broaches the subject, Dew denies anything is wrong. His shoulder is just a little sore is all. Maybe he slept funny, he says, brushing off Aether’s concerns.

But Aether knows the truth, and is pretty sure the whole pack knows what’s up actually. It’s Dew’s new guitar. The Fantomen. For as beautiful as it looks and as powerful as it sounds, the son of a bitch is heavy. Even for Aether it can be unwieldy at times.

Of course Dew hasn’t let it affect his playing. He never would. He’s far too proud, and rightfully so. Dew’s the best player Aether has ever seen anywhere in his life. And his playing continues to be immaculate, so Aether doesn’t want to push. Instead he watches Dew power through their set each night for weeks.

Until Dew’s shoulder gives out completely in the middle of a ritual.

A missed note, glaringly obvious. Rare to be due to Dew’s mistake and not because of some equipment malfunction (or Aether’s own mistake throwing Dew off, something he can admit has happened more than once). Aether whips his head towards the fire ghoul, knowing immediately that something is seriously wrong. Copia and the other ghouls are watching him now too.

Dew curls in on himself for just a split second before catching himself and resuming his perfect playing. But Aether knows the damage has been done when Dew purposefully ignores the rest of his stage cues and instead shuffles unsteadily towards the back of the stage as he finishes out the song.

Thank Satan they’re at an intermission. Time for Copia to change out of his white suit and into the red cassock. Instead of taking his usual water break, Aether books it towards Dew, who he finds leaning against the wall just past the curtain.

Aether knows it's bad because Dew has his mask off. His face is pale and he’s sweating bullets, cradling his arm against his body as he struggles to even out his breathing. But before he can do anything there’s chaos. Copia and the crew are scrambling to do what they can to keep the show going. Aether is being ushered back to stage before he can get a word in. 

In the end Dew insists he can finish out the show from backstage, perched on a stool where he can rest the weight of the Fantomen on his lap. He even comes back onstage for final bows, cradling his bad arm gingerly, and Aether finds himself trailing behind him protectively instead of his usual routine of throwing out guitar picks and interacting with the audience. 

Finally, the curtain goes down and they’re free to go. Thankfully it’s a hotel night and then they’re off for two days before they travel to the next city. A small victory.

As soon as they’re in the room, Aether is looking Dew over while Copia watches on worriedly. Dew keeps grumbling that ghouls heal fast, so he’ll be fine, but Aether can see otherwise. The shoulder is swollen, angry red and inflamed. Dew’s definitely pulled something, maybe even a tear, and then he continued to irritate it night after night until it gave out. Aether feels guilty that he didn’t notice it was this bad before, that he wasn’t more insistent. He could have used some of his quintessence to keep it from going this far… He shakes the thought away for the time being.

“Alright,” Aether sighs and turns to Copia. “The bad news is, as of right now his shoulder’s fucked,” he says point blank. No point in sugar-coating any of this now. Copia pales and he hears Dew swallow nervously and shift from where he’s sitting on the bed behind him. 

“Good news is, I can fix him up in the next two days.” He turns to Dew to see a wave of relief wash across his otherwise stoic face. “But he’s gonna have to take it easy for a while after that. And that much healing takes a lot of quintessence, a ton of energy. If we push it any farther than that, you’re gonna end up out two guitarists.”

Copia agrees and they make arrangements for Aether and Dew to stay in his suite while Copia takes one of the regular rooms. The cardinal bids them goodnight and lets them know he’ll get them anything they need to be comfortable for the next few days while Aether works on Dew’s arm.

As soon as he leaves, Aether turns to Dew. He wants more than anything to scoop the little ghoul up in his arms and shower him in kisses, but he knows better than to jostle his bad arm. At any rate, Dew hates to be fussed over.

“How do you feel?” Aether chances, popping the cap of his water bottle and handing it to Dew along with a couple painkillers. 

Dew snorts, avoiding Aether’s eyes. “Like absolute dogshit,” he answers, blunt as always, before swallowing the pills and chugging half of Aether’s water.

“Alright then,” he motions to the compression shirt Dew still has on. “Let’s get this thing off of you so I can work on getting some of the swelling down.”

It isn’t easy, but they work together to hold Dew’s tender shoulder steady while Aether slowly peels the fabric from Dew’s body. Dew winces as he finally pulls his arm out of the sleeve, and Aether presses an apologetic little kiss to Dew’s temple.

The kiss seems to break some of the tension, and Dew’s body sags. He looks up at Aether with a sad little frown on his face. He looks guilty. “Sorry, Aeth…” he starts. “I know I should have said something before it got this bad…” he trails off.”

Aether shakes his head, tells Dew not to worry, that he’ll have him fixed up in no time. Jokes that thanks to his bum shoulder, they get to lounge around in Copia’s suite for two days in a king sized bed and in the jacuzzi tub. Says that if they play their cards right, Copia will probably even let them call for room service to their hearts’ content. The mention of room service seems to lighten Dew’s mood even further.

Meanwhile, Aether works Dew’s shoulder, pressing feather light touches to sensitive flesh while he focuses his energy on delivering enough quintessence to calm the inflammation. Once he’s satisfied with their progress, Aether pulls away to go draw a hot bath. Before he can go Dew reaches out, grabs his hand and pulls Aether back to him.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Dew says softly, looking up at Aether. He holds Dew’s gaze, contemplating, before leaning in and kissing him on the lips, carding his fingers through Dew’s hair until they’re both humming contentedly against each other. 

Later, Aether sits beside the tub while Dew soaks, periodically working another round of quintessence into Dew’s shoulder as the little ghoul dozes off, finally beginning to relax as the pain goes down thanks to Aether’s ministrations.

Aether helps Dew out of the tub and wraps him in a fluffy bathrobe from the closet. Between the quintessence, the painkillers, and the hot bath, Dew is ready to crash. Aether guides him on wobbly legs to the bed, helping him lay face down into the pillows. From his prone position, Dew wriggles his shoulder.

“Feels better now,” Dew slurs, eyelids fluttering closed. “Can move it now n’everything.” He moves his shoulder in another little circle to demonstrate.

Aether chuckles. He loves to see Dew like this, blissed out and sleepy, he just wishes it were under different circumstances. Aether feels exhaustion pulling on him as well, between the crash of adrenaline after Dew’s injury and the copious amounts of quintessence he pumped into the little fire ghoul, his body is feeling beat. He’ll need rest soon, too.

But first, he climbs onto the bed and straddles Dew’s hips, careful not to press down too hard or to knock into his arm.

“Backrub?” Dew asks, eyes still closed and face pressed into the pillows.

“Backrub,” Aether confirms, leaning in to run his palms up Dew’s back, letting another dose of quintessence bleed from his fingertips into the fire ghoul’s soft skin, paying special attention to his injured shoulder. He massages Dew’s back until the little ghoul is half asleep and purring into the sheets.

Two days later, and they’re back on the road, en route to the next venue, Dew feeling better and set to shred once again, under the caveat that he doesn’t overdo it just yet. Aether has appointed himself Dew’s own personal masseuse. Now, after every ritual, Dew gets a nice, long, quintessence-infused shoulder rub.

Dew is happy to let Aether fuss over him, just this once.

#mushy may 2024 #dewther #aether/dew #aether/dewdrop #aether x dew #aether x dewdrop #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band fanfic #ghoul-slime fic #ghoul-slime mushy may 2024 #ok but in that video where dew is injured and he comes back during bows #and aether immediately rushes over to him and puts his arm around him #my heartttt

[redghoulettes]

RED WITH GHOULS (2023)

AETHER. They are actually very cute with each other, they're very close as they play songs together before he left. Aether is just like Red's bodyguard, though her bodyguard get bossed around by someone else Dew. They are like brother and sisters on stage, just sweet with each other.

FANS LOVES. aether and red body goals. bodyguard moments of aether and red. aether head kisses. red bossing him around. aether hugging red.

MOUNTAIN. They are extremely close; every time Red climbs up to his stage to play her guitar, Mountain voluntarily gives her drumsticks, which she then gives to the the audience. On sometimes, Mountain allows her to play his drum using extra drumsticks.

FANS LOVES. their height difference. her being too polite with mountain than with other ghouls. when red always sends mountain a flying kiss before going back down from his stage.

PHANTOM. Red and Phantom get along well, even though Phantom is a new member of the band. They always exchange glances and brief physical contact, such as Phantom grabbing her waist as he passes her and Red patting his back. They adore skin ships and feel extremely at ease with one another.

FANS LOVES. phantom grabbing red's waist. red shooting finger guns to phantom before playing square hammer. them jamming with each other while playing their instruments.

RAIN. The two of them share the same stage, so they're always together. Red and Rain get along well, they know each other well and can anticipate each other's next move. Fans frequently refer to them as boyfriend and girlfriend. Red makes Rain comfortable enough for him to let himself gone wild on stage.

FANS LOVES. when rain gives her flowers he receives. rain and red's head tilts. when rain actually gone wild, he holds her neck and gave it a squeeze. red stepping on rain's boots.

SODO. Given how close they are to one another, it's clear that they feel very comfortable around each other. They both enjoy making inappropriate gestures and performing on stage. They're both a menace when put together. They frequently make fun of one another on stage or in interviews.

FANS LOVES. that one video wherein sodo licks on her fingers on prequelle era. sodo grabbing red's thighs while performing. red mocking his mummy dust innuendos. sodo choking her when she does her iconic head leaning back where her neck gets expose.

SWISS. Swiss is a crazy ghoul who frequently messes with Red and everyone else. He likes to sneak behind her and placing his hands on her neck, tilting it upwards to make her look up at him. This is his way of making her feel short. Swiss always kneels down in front of Red, and every single time he does, he's thrusting his hips.

FAN LOVES. when swiss teases red's height. when red flips off on swiss. them actually, unbelievably being soft to each other. red coming towards swiss just to ignore him and face aurora.

#nameless ghouls #secondo #ghost bc #ghost band x reader #ghost band #ghost smut #ghost x you #ghost band fic #phantom ghoul #ghost band fanfic #rain ghost #phantom ghost #the band ghost #ghost #red ghoulette #sodo ghoul #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss ghost #papa copia #papa terzo #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #papa secondo

[chiaraanatra]

Falling Like This

Request: Hey love! I was listening to “Sure Be Cool If You Did” by Blake Shelton and immediately thought of sending you a request! Could you write something based on this?! 😘 - @callsign-viper

Summary: After everything that happened (reuniting with you, watching you break up with your boyfriend, and training at Top Gun), Jake decides to go after what he wants. Or the one where Jake falls madly in love with you all over again.

Warnings: alcohol mentioned, a little grab ass, kissing, fluff out the ass, nicknames (Stinger, Honeybee, pretty girl, darlin'), pilot!reader.

Word Count: 1k

AN: Well it took almost a year and I apologize for that! At first, I thought this would be a prequel to Break Up in a Small Town but it turned into a sequel. I think this is a more loose interpretation of the song but I'm happy with how it turned out. Thank you so much @callsign-viper for these requests I had so much fun with them. 💜

For parts 1 & 2 of this accidental series: pt 1: Cop Car || pt 2: Break up in a Small Town

《 m.list || ao3 》

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin POV

God, you were beautiful. You were always beautiful, but there was something about the way your outfit hung on your frame perfectly and how the neon lights from the bar signs made you glow. If looks could kill, Hangman would have been a dead man.

He had told himself that he was going to take things slow, have a drink or two, and get reacquainted after a few years of not seeing each other. Not long ago he had a front-row seat to your decently shitty breakup and you were both going through the stresses of Top Gun training.

But here you both were, sitting at a high-top table across from one another. One drink turned into a few, one hour turned into several, and Penny had just shouted last call.

Have we really been sitting here all night?

He watched as you dragged your finger along the rim of your empty glass, “Pretty sure Penny’s gonna kick us out soon.”

"Yeah." His next words came before he could stop himself, "Is it wrong to say I don’t want this night to end just yet?" He wanted to blame his boldness on the alcohol, but the last drink order was an hour ago and you were both pretty sober.

Thankfully you appeared to be feeling just as bold, “Who said it has to?” It had been a little bit since you broke up with Tom. You and Jake had been spending more and more time together and everything felt like it was falling into place.

A signature grin was plastered on his face, "Whatcha have in mind, Honeybee?"

A smile made its way onto your lips at the nickname. He loved the way the name fell from his lips and seeing your reactions. You had always been his Honeybee. It had started as a joke, a play on the callsign given to you at the academy. Stinger: precise and direct, making a "beeline" to the point regardless of the sting. But Jake had known you since high school and you were still the girl that he could easily embarrass, melting like sweet honey in his hands.

Your eyes darted to the picturesque view of the beach contained within the Hard Deck's back window. "Up for a little walk on the beach?" He could hear a slight bit of apprehension in your voice.

Without a word he stood up, holding out his hand to lead you towards the exit. On the way, he placed cash on the bar for Penny. You stopped at his truck leaving your shoes behind and he watched as you made a beeline for the beach.

Jake took a moment to just watch you, how the moonlight danced across your skin. After a minute, he couldn't stand that he wasn't closer, couldn’t stand that he wasn’t touching you, holding you, kissing you.

He snuck up behind you, arms finding their way around your waist. He picked you up effortlessly and spun you around. You both couldn't help but laugh before he set you down. His hands made their way to your cheeks, taking in every detail of your face. Jake could swear your eyes sparkled when you looked at him.

Before he got a chance to ask, your lips were on his, arms snaking around his neck pulling him closer. Your lips were soft and warm, sweet like honey. His tongue dragged along your bottom lip as if to ask for permission. Without hesitation, your mouth opened, and your tongues danced with one another. Jake all but wanted to devour you in that very moment.

With bated breath he backed away slightly, wanting to share the thoughts swimming in his mind. "I wish I never let you go… We could have made the distance work…"

You ran your fingers gently through his golden locks, interrupting his spiral, "Hush. What matters is that we're here now. Together." Your touch and words put him at ease while simultaneously creating a fire within him.

Without a word he lifted you up, one arm caressing your lower back, the other supporting your legs. You gave him a questioning look. "Jake..?" His only reply to your inquiry was a devilish smile, quickly making his way into the water. "Seresin!" Now the two of you were completely soaked and laughing like fools.

"Common darlin'," his Texas accent was more prominent, "a little water never hurt anyone." he switched his hold on you, wrapping your legs around his waist. His next statement came from nowhere, but he just couldn't help himself, "What if I just dropped you right now?"

“Jake… You wouldn't dar-" Jake didn't let you finish, releasing you from his grasp. He watched as you fell into the crystal blue ocean, knowing that you would have done the same to him if you were in his position.

He wasn't wrong, so it was surprising that he didn't anticipate your next move. You came up from behind, jumping on top of him which effectively caused him to fall into the water himself. When he got his footing back, a splash of water hit his face. The sounds of your laughter and crashing waves were like music to his ears.

He pushed back his wet hair before holding his hands up in the air. "Truce?"

You moved in closer before wrapping your arms around him, "Truce."

One hand moved into your hair while the other found purchase on your ass. The warm Pacific waters enveloped you both as your bodies melted into one another. Jake pulled you in for another searing kiss, this one more frantic than the last, all tongues, teeth, and hands. If he had it his way, this is how the two of you would spend the rest of your lives, heated kisses and close bodies.

Jake pulled back, taking in your dazed look and the want in your eyes. He pressed his lips to the top of your head before whispering, "How about I get you home, pretty girl?"

"Only if you promise to stay." When you looked up at him, Jake swore that you would be the eventual death of him, a death he would gladly welcome with open arms.

"I think we can make that happen."

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @callsign-viper @luckyladycreator2 @saturnsbabe69 @desert-fern @pono-pura-vida @djs8891 @dempy

𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

#top gun #glen powell #jake “hangman” seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #hangman x you #top gun hangman #viper 🐍

[indouloureux]

➤ JOSEPH QUINN

smut indicated by**

(go to drabbles masterlist for request guidelines!)

— spam liking without reblogs: BLOCKED

main masterlist; drabbles masterlist

— scroll through them here

one shots

honey baby

↳ honey mornings (honey baby prequel)

love me more**

your lips, my lips

↳ apocalypse

tethered rings

blurbs

joseph being a simp for reader

joseph & semi hippie reader ft. crystals, tarot cards and zodiac signs

joseph & reader in a fleetwood mac concert

costar!reader & joseph in brazil

joseph supporting singer!reader in her concert

joseph taking care of slightly drunk reader in brazil ft. jamie

joseph taking care of sick reader

joseph running his hands through your hair

surprising joseph at comic-con

joseph and his obsession with venga boys

honeymoon vol 1

honeymoon vol 2

honeymoon vol 3**

comforting joseph at comic-con

joseph and reader flirting (?)

joseph messing up your line

joseph pushing you off a boat

babysitting with joseph

joseph being obsessed with your perfume

joseph tries to win you back

joseph loving on puppies

joseph catches you on tiktok

joseph reacts to the song you wrote for him

joseph tries to ask out clueless reader on a date

picking up a habit from joseph

spa day with joseph

joseph face timing and surprising you

joseph taking care of you when you're on your period

joseph being a slut

joseph in autumn

joseph finding a restaurant for dinner

joseph falling asleep as you read a book to him

joseph cries reading letters

joseph giving you a necklace

joseph being grumpy

joseph putting fuzzy socks on your feet

calling joseph 'darling' for the first time

joseph calls your scar beautiful

reassuring joseph

supporting joseph in lfcc

flustered joseph

joseph reacts to doja cat

joseph tries to ask you out on a date

joseph + aftercare**

you and joseph go to a photobooth

going to paris with joseph

you and joseph move into a new house

joseph giving you hickies**

joseph + august vibes**

using your safeword with joseph**

joseph comforts you through a hard day

proposing to joseph while drunk

joseph stays because he loves you

joseph comforts you before a job interview

playing a board game with joseph

joseph being nervous on your first date

joseph and tall!reader

joseph and cuteness aggression

dancing in the rain with joseph

going to a dinner with joseph and being ignored

joseph reacts to you changing your hair color

you're in love with your best friend, joseph

joseph protects you from overstimulation

joseph reassures you that you're beautiful

needy!joseph

watching the sunrise with joseph

cuddles with joseph

joseph in a thunderstorm

joe being a dad/stepdad

seeking joe's warmth after an argument

joseph helping you with your stutter

joseph reading you a book

snippets of pda with joe

#joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson

[slavghoul]

Hi, Slav! I'm planning a trip to Stockholm and I want to visit some Ghost-related places of interest. I know about Garlic & Shots and a church, where the Year Zero video was filmed. Do you know other must-sees? Thank you!

Garlic & Shots is a must of course. Try the Ghost burger, it’s very good, but I must also recommend the good ole Swedish meatballs, the extra garlic makes it ever more delicious. They also have a very cool room downstairs with pinball games and stuff, and good music.

For an opportunity to 'stand where Papa once stood' haha, definitely the golden hall at Stockholms stadshus where the Impera photoshoot took place (that hall has paid entrance, but worth it). Meliora photos were taken at Stockholms stadsbibliotek, in particular near the entrance on and on the staircase up to the book hall. I recall there was also a photoshoot with Papa III done at Botkyrka church in Norsborg. Tobias used to live quite near that church in his youth, and Norsborg is also where he wrote the very first Ghost song. The first demos I believe were recorded somewhere in Gröndal and Stadshagen. It may be nice to take a stroll through those places just to see where it all started. Eric Ericsonhallen where the music video for Spillways was shot. Very nice on the inside, but unfortunately I think it’s closed off from the public most of the time unless some event is taking place, but maybe you’ll be lucky. It’s on Skeppsholmen, so from there you can take a ferry to the ABBA museum ;-) Some recording studios where Ghost recorded - Artery Studios at Katarinavägen (Prequelle), Atlantis Metronome at Karlbergsvägen (Impera). Maybe Buttericks on Drottninggatan where Tobias bought the very first ghoul costumes haha. They still sell similar ones there.

While you're in Stockholm, I recommend taking a train to Linköping, it’s not far so you can make it a one-day trip. From the main station, you can walk on foot to Linköpings domkyrka, the cathedral from the cover of Opus Eponymous. It is being renovated right now, so you may not see it in its fully glory, but nonetheless it's beautiful inside and out. If you wanna see the streets where Tobbe grew up take a stroll through Tannefors - Nya Tanneforsvägen and Tegelbruksgatan; and where he lived later in particular when Ghost was taking its first steps - Apotekaregatan, Drottninggatan (get a kanelbulle at Babettes :))..  Some 'historic' Ghost venues where they played: Doom on Ågatan (where Papa III played his first show and Papa II his last), and Cupolen/Folketspark (first Papa's last show, II's first). Maybe S:t Larskyrka, which inspired one of the first backdrops the band used on tour. The record store Bengans, lots of Ghost goodies there and there’s a wall with signatures from Papa III and Cardinal Copia. Hmm I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but that’s it from the top of my head. Hope you enjoy the trip!