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sgkophie · 2 years

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Hidden Love - Charles Leclerc One Shot/Request

Read Part 2 Here!

Pairing: Reader x Charles Leclerc

Warnings: smut, language, a Charles quickie cause ya girl's fingers started to fall off by word 7,000...

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Classic friends with lovers with our soft boy Charles with some smut at the end <3

Word Count: ~7500 words (clearly one shots are not my specialty... I get way too connected to my characters!)

AN: Sorry this took so long anon! I had to prioritize Man's World and work kicked my butt last week but hope you enjoy this and thanks for requesting!!

********

I consider myself to be incredibly lucky to call Pierre my brother; while I knew the world looks at him like a playboy, to me he is the silly, loving and kind brother who always had sage, if not very unsolicited, advice. Growing up as kids we rarely fought. Being so close in age – only 18 months apart – we were bound at the hip practically since birth. Pierre probably knew me almost as much as I knew myself – which is why he was 100% accurate when he confronted me with my feelings for his best friend and Ferrari driver, Charles Leclerc.

“Good morning, Pierre,” I hollered as I walked into our Monaco apartment; Pierre had decided he wanted to spend a little more time in Monaco this year. The newest art gallery I was working for was based in Monaco, and with so many of the other drivers living in Monaco, Pierre had asked if I wanted to share an apartment for this race season. I hadn’t lived with my brother in over 5 years, so I was incredibly excited to get the opportunity to share an apartment with my best friend. I figured eventually we would both settle down with someone, so this was likely our last chance as brother and sister to have some quality family time just the two of us. Plus, things with my boyfriend Gerardo had been progressing. While we had only dated for 4 months, I felt like things were starting to get more serious.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” Pierre called back. As I walked into the kitchen, I smelled the sweet, sweet aroma of coffee beans – freshly ground – and bacon with toast. I sat down at the marbled kitchen island and grabbed a cup of coffee that Pierre had already poured for me – black coffee with just a touch of creamer. Pierre and I had both become coffee snobs a few years ago after a lovely trip to Peru; there’s something about black coffee that just screams morning to me.

“Thanks for this. So, what’s the plan for tonight? Your text said you wanted to cook some dinner?” I asked casually, trying to pry out of him what exactly he wanted. We typically ate dinner together, so I it was odd that he had directly asked if I was free tonight and if I wanted to have dinner with him.

“Charles is coming over, he’s back from Italy a day early, and thought it would be nice to have dinner before we all head to Austria.”

“Oh how lovely! Haven’t seen Charles in what feels like an age. Yes, that would be great. I’ll tell Gerardo, I’d love for him to meet Gerardo before he comes to Austria with us.” I clapped my hands and grabbed my phone, crafting a text to Gerardo with the hope that he could make some time to come. Recently he had been spending a lot of time with ‘the boys’, so I felt like we hadn’t seen each other in forever.

As I pulled out my phone, I could feel Pierre grimace, wanting to clearly say something. “Why can’t it just be the three of us?” he asked calmly, but I could see the look of panic in his eyes when I lifted mine to meet his deep blue ones.

“Why do you not like Gerardo?” I responded, slowing standing up from my chair at the kitchen counter. I knew Pierre didn’t like Gerardo; he’d only invited him to Austria because I had begged him to. Pierre had always had this silly thought in his head that Charles and I should be together. I typically shrugged him off when he said things like that. The reality was: Why on earth would Charles want to date me? He had access to beautiful models all throughout Europe. Something I reminded Pierre often – considering he always had a model on his arm, no matter the event.

Pierre was convinced Gerardo was just using me to get free F1 tickets and to get into exclusive events, a comment I thought was incredibly rude. Gerardo couldn’t just like me for me? Pierre said this about a lot of my boyfriends, something I often tried to ignore, but it was starting to truly irk me. I was a catch – and not because my brother was a Formula 1 driver. I worked at one of the most exclusive art galleries in Monaco; I had my own set of events to attend. I didn’t need him to get into a VIP club – although it was arguably easier.

“(Y/N), we’ve discussed this… it’s not that I don’t like the guy, it’s that I don’t think he’s right for you,” he responded coolly, clearly sending my agitation and frustration.

“Is it because you still have this secret plan to get me and Charles together? I know he recently broke up with his last model girlfriend. This better not be one of those games you like to play.” I put an emphasis on model, just to reinstate the reason why Charles and I would never be together.

Pierre just signed. “No plan, no plan,” he said with acceptance. “I just wanted some old friends to hang out together. If it’s important for you to invite Gerardo, then please invite him; there will be plenty of food.”

I nodded and texted Gerardo, who to my surprise, said he would love to join the three of us for dinner this evening.

“Excellent – it’s settled then,” I responded with a grin, getting up from the table with my coffee cup. I hadn’t seen Charles in forever and I was excited to finally the future WDC holder of 2022. Charles had such a fun air about him – he was incredibly charming, funny, but most of all, compassionate. There had been so many late night phone calls throughout the year where Charles would sit endlessly on the phone, listening to my career plans. He’d ask me about my days in classes when I was at Uni and when I got my first job at a gallery, Charles was the first one to send me a beautiful bouquet of daisies, my favorite flower, as a congratulations. Unlike Pierre, he had always seemed supportive of my boyfriends – always made them feel welcome.

******

Charles arrived at half 6, 30 minutes before Pierre had told me Charles was going to arrive. I suspected he had told Charles 6:15, in the hopes that he would come earlier than Gerardo – no doubt part of Pierre’s plan for us to have some alone time without my current boyfriend. Charles was notoriously always late to events – his mother said she knew he’d just be one of those people who were always late, given that he was almost a week late to his expected date of birth.

I opened the door and before I knew it, I was engulfed in the hug of the century. “Charles, it’s so lovely to see you!” I yelled, giving him a second and then a third hug. He chuckled and said the same. As I shuffled him into the living, I noticed a small bouquet of flowers in his bag. He saw me looking and smiled, pulling them out of his bag and handing them to me.

“I saw these at a local market I was at this morning, thought you might like them,” he said with the biggest smile. Truth be told, my heart melted at that moment. I nodded, a little shyly, and took them from him, giving him yet another hug.

“Thanks Charles, these are just lovely. You are too kind! How a woman hasn’t snatched you up yet, I will never know.”

He beamed at me, ever the gentlemen this Monegasque was. “I am looking forward to Austria this weekend. You coming on the jet with us?”

“Yes, Gerardo and I will be flying with Pierre – he’s never been to Austria, so I am excited to go a day earlier and show him around.”

I wasn’t sure what emotion had flashed across Charles’ face, but it almost looked like disappointment. As soon as it had arrived on his face, it was gone and his face resumed the usual smile with those precious dimples. I decided to think nothing of it. I knew both Charles and Pierre were under a ton of stress, especially Charles who was so close to winning the championship.

“Who is Gerardo?” he asked quietly, still smiling directly at me. The smile was looking a little forced, but I let it slide.

“(Y/N)’s new boyfriend,” Pierre responded quickly. “He’s coming with us to Austria,” he added a bit too bluntly.

“… and we’re excited about it,” I snapped back, looking directly at Pierre. “And we’re going to be nice to him, right?”

Pierre rolled his eyes but nodded, looking back at Charles.

“Well, that’s exciting,” Charles replied, clapping his hands together; his smile was starting to look genuine. “I’ll be sure to give him a tour of the Ferrari garage if you’d like. We have some time on Thursday.”

“That would be great,” I explained. “More than Pierre has offered – he’s apparently too busy to give us a tour around the garage.” I rolled my eyes, but playfully batted at my brother’s shoulder.

“You know I would if I could, but we’ve got some big red bull sponsorship events this week,” Pierre gave me a loving shove. I suspected he was over dramatizing his schedule, but I nodded in agreement. No doubt about it, it was a huge event for both Red Bull teams and Pierre was expected to participate.

After another 10 minutes of chit chat, Gerardo knocked at the door. Before I could get to the door, Pierre had beaten me to it. “Gerardo, welcome to our home,” he said. I didn’t like the emphasis on our home, but chalked it up to Pierre just being his usual protective big brother self. He and Gerardo had met a couple other times before, but Gerardo was still very new in Pierre’s eyes.

Charles quickly got up to shake Gerardo’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” Charles said. “I’m an old family friend.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Gerardo said with what could only be described as the most cringeworthy grin. “Charles Leclerc – great to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so much about you. Looking forward to seeing Max beat you at the Red Bull ring this weekend,” he joked. Gerardo laughed after his comment, as if he had made a hilarious joke, and then winked at Charles. Charles, ever the gentlemen, let out an awkward, light chuckle. A little rude to someone who had just offered to show us around the Ferrari garage, but I hoped that Charles wasn’t too offended.

The rest of dinner went by fairly smoothly. Gerardo let out a few more awkward comments towards Charles, but overall he was a pleasant conversationalist with the group. I reckoned that it was probably hard to come into a group of well established friends and insert yourself into the conversation, so I thought he did great. As dinner started to whine down, Gerardo excused himself from the group. He apparently had to go back for Austria tomorrow. I was confused, because he told me over the weekend that he was so excited he had already packed, but I nodded and gave him a hug and kiss good-bye.

He glanced back at both my brother and Charles and then gave me a huge kiss, wrapping both of his arms around my waist and lifting me off of the floor. “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow, beautiful,” he cooed. I nodded, a little lightheaded from the unexpected hug. I quickly closed the door, only to turn around to see both Charles and Pierre stating at me, a look of disbelief on Pierre’s face.

“Well, now the real party can begin,” Pierre announced as he walked over to the wine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of champagne. I frowned at him for his sassy comment about Gerardo leaving, but resumed my place on the couch, putting out my glass for a refill.

“So, (Y/N), how long have you and Gerardo been dating?” Charles asked me.

“A few months now – almost 4. I feel like in the last month it’s started to get more serious, so I am excited to bring him to the paddock.” Unbeknownst to me, Pierre was standing behind me, rolling his eyes at Charles and gesturing for him to change the subject. Charles ignored him and pressed further.

“That’s great, I’m happy for you. He seems so familiar, like I’ve met him before. Just can’t place where.”

“Well he’s lived in Monaco all his life, so you’ve probably seen him out at a club or something.“ I responded casually. Truthfully, I had no idea where they would have met, but they were both quite active in the night life of Monaco so it was entirely possible that they had some mutual friends.

“Well he seems like a nice guy, and as long as he makes you happy, then I am happy for you,” Charles said lightly. There was a tint of sadness in his voice, but before I could address it Pierre but in.

“As happy as a girlfriend can be when she’s dating a guy who can’t make her come during sex,” he remarked to Charles.

“PIERRE!” I shrieked, throwing the couch cushion at him. “I told you that in confidence! You can’t go around saying that to people.” I was mortified. When I was drunk one night about a month ago I had let that horrifying comment slip to Pierre, who since then, definitely took a strong dislike to Gerardo. He was a believer that a man’s number one focus in bed should be on his girlfriend, something he told me over and over.

I held my hand up, “I am NOT discussing this with my brother and his best friend. Nope. Absolutely not.”

I turned to Charles and noticed his eyes flicker up at me, his face a bit pink – likely from the cringeworthy announcement my brother had just made to the group. I mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’. It was clear Pierre was starting to get quite drunk.

“Well, I think we should call it a night,” I said pointedly to Pierre. “YOU have to be up early tomorrow and you cannot be hungover in Austria. Something about all of those sponsorship meetings… if I remember correctly,” I said with a grin, reminding him of the reason why he couldn’t give me and Gerardo that garage tour.

Charles nodded and started walking towards the door. As we were standing at the door, he leaned in closely, and whispered ever so gently, “Pierre is right, you know.” I raised an eye brow at him. His face was so close to my ear, I could feel his breath on my neck. “A boyfriend’s priority shouldn’t just be ‘how can I make my girlfriend come, but how many times I can make my girlfriend come.’” Before I could even respond to that comment, Charles winked at me and shut the door.

I stood there, slightly baffled. Charles had always been so sweet and well-mannered – I had never seen this side of him before. I retreated back to the living room, grabbed the remaining glass of champagne, and downed it.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Pierre was right. I did have feelings for Charles – feelings that I had to shove deep down because I knew that if I let them out, they’d explode inside of me, and I would end up being incredibly disappointed. I let that little comment from Charles slide, and went to sleep, trying to dream of my boyfriend making me come, and not Charles Leclerc.

*****

Of course the next morning Pierre woke up with a brutal hangover. I told him not to drink too much, but he was not one to listen to me, or anyone, – especially if champagne was involved. Gerardo met us at the airport. He also looked a little worse for wear, which I thought was odd considering he went straight home last night and had only drunk a couple glasses of wine. He gave me some excuse about having allergies, and I just nodded back at, doing my best to not roll my eyes. I didn’t think they looked like allergies, but I also wasn’t in the mood to get into a fight. This was going to be a good weekend, I could feel it in my bones.

That Wednesday went delightfully – Gerardo and I spent the day touring Austria and enjoying the lovely weather. Thursday Charles kept his promise and offered to give Gerardo and I a tour of the Ferrari garage, which was just lovely. I always thought that if Charles wasn’t a formula 1 driver, he would have made a great public speaker. He always had that beautiful smile on his face and his answers to everything were so diplomatic. About half-way thru the tour I got a call from Pierre, asking me to meet me in his drivers room- he had lost something, as usual. I apologized and said that Gerardo and I would have to go, but Charles offered to continue giving Gerardo a tour.

“Go ahead, I’m happy to continue the tour. I mean you’ve already seen all this a bunch of times,” he said with that million dollar smile. I nodded and kissed Gerardo on the check, apologizing again.

“Call me when you’re done, I’ll come get you.” Gerardo nodded and I ran off into the direction of the Alpha Tauri garages, cursing Pierre under my breath.

Charles Leclerc’s POV

As (Y/N) ran off towards the Alpha Tauri garage, my heart sank just a little. I barely got to spend any time with her these days and so I felt like every moment I had with her was precious, even if I had to spend it with her horribly annoying boyfriend. He came across as a nice enough fellow, even if he occasionally insulted me, something I guessed was because he was trying to mark his territory. I understood that on some primal level – (Y/N) Gasly was breathtakingly beautiful. Her laugh could warm up an entire room and her smile could make any person’s walls come down, if they just gave her enough time.

Timing had never seemed to be on our side. Every time I ended a relationship, and built up the courage to ask her out, she was dating someone. It was this vicious cycle where I could never seem to find the right moment to truly tell her how I feel. And now, almost 7 years after I had originally worked up the courage to ask her out, she was once again in another relationship.

I turned back to Gerardo who was just smiling at me with that horrendous grin he had – reminded me of that Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

“It must be so cool to be a formula 1 driver; surrounded by all those hot models, what a dream,” he said with a smirk and a pat on my back. I was a little taken aback by his comment.

“Actually, it’s not nearly as glamorous as it sounds. We put a lot of hard work into training and getting the cars ready each race. I find it hard to maintain a constant relationship with a girlfriend,” I said with a sigh.

“Ahh, come on mate, you don’t have to pretend with me,” Gerardo laughed, “I know that’s the selling point. All the women you want, with none of the commitments attached – a true dream. Don’t have to buy her flowers the night after, if you know what I mean. Georgia is always expecting something!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. No, I didn’t know what he meant. Here he was with the girl of my dreams, the one woman I knew I could manage a relationship with while still trying to win the WDC. (Y/N) understood the pressures we drivers were under. When I was at the Ferrari Driving Academy, she was the one person I could call and talk to – day or night. She was the first person I called to tell her I had been signed on as a Ferrari driver, although she didn’t know that.

I decided to rebuff his comment and and continue on with the tour, hoping he would get the hint.

He didn’t.

“You know you and I have met a few other times,” he said casually. “We met about a month ago at Club W at the opening night.”

I nodded. Now I remember where I had met him. Yes, at the opening of the new Club. “Didn’t you have a date there?” I asked casually, trying not to sound too interested. He took the bate – idiot.

“Oh yeah, hot blonde – Cathy or something. (Y/N) and I weren’t serious then,” he added quickly.

I nodded, and continued to look forward, looking for a way out of this conversation. I knew that wasn’t true, (Y/N) had told me they’d dated for almost 4 months. If I had a girl like (Y/N) Gasly, I wouldn’t even remotely look in another girls’ direction. Fortunately, before I had to endure any more of Gerardo, (Y/N) had texted that she was on her way back. Within a couple of minutes (Y/N) was walking towards the garage, waving at me.

I nodded and waved to her as she entered the garage. “Sorry I have to run, but talk to you later!” I called out to her as I walked back into my drivers room. She looked disappointed as I turned away, but after my talk with Gerardo, I couldn’t bare to face her.

I had a decision to make. Do I tell her about Gerardo’s comments? Maybe he didn’t mean them. Maybe they weren’t that serious a month ago. I highly doubted that, but I couldn’t bare the look on her face as I told her the terrible things that insufferable boyfriend of hers had decided to share with me. I decided to keep it to myself, unless he decided to continue this conversation with me. There was no reason to ruin her happiness by sharing with her some offhanded comments – was there?

*****

Your POV

I was disappointed that Charles had only waved to me from the garage. I knew that he was incredibly busy and he had done me a favor by showing Gerardo around, but still, he had always make time for me in the past. I gave him a quick wave and then grabbed Gerardo’s hand to drag him back to the Alpha Tauri hospitality center where Pierre had set us up.

The rest of Thursday and all of qualifying on Friday went smoothly. I loved getting the head sets and listening to Pierre on the radio, it made me really feel apart of the race which I know was important to Pierre. That Friday evening the drivers were all getting together at a local bar to celebrate – not too much as they all had to race the next day, but it was a tradition to at least go out and chat. Pierre invited Gerardo and I – well mostly me – and we out to the club.

At around 9pm I was beginning to feel exhausted and asked Gerardo to take me home – hoping we could get in some cuddles and chats before the big sprint race tomorrow. We hadn’t spent much time alone together just the two of us, and after Saturday it would be all race prep and then straight to celebrating; we’d have very little time to be alone.

I suggested to my boyfriend that he take me home, but he rebuffed my comment – clearly annoyed that I had asked. Charles, noticing this, offered to take me home as he also wanted to get some proper sleep before the sprint race. The walk home was very quiet, we barely said a word to each other, but the silence was comforting. Charles and I had a that in common – we could both just enjoy each others company without needing to fill the space with words. As we approached my hotel, I leaned in and gave him a big hug, thanking him for taking me home. As I went to pull back, he pulled me closer, deepening the hug. He put his face in the crook of my neck and sighed.

“I am so glad you’re here, (Y/N),” he whispered.

“Me too, Charles. It’s been great to see you – even if you’ve been so busy the last two days.”

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind with the championship race really heating up. I’m so close to my dream, you know, so close…” he trailed off at the end. I just nodded in response. I knew this was his dream.

“You deserve this, Charles. Good luck tomorrow – I think you’ll be brilliant in the sprint race. Your car is phenomenal.” Charles didn’t respond to me; he just kept staring at me, as if he had something to say but couldn’t possibly utter out the words.

“Everything ok?” I asked politely, trying not to prod, but I could see that he had something he wanted to say.

“You deserve better,” Charles blurted out. I could see the panic in his eyes, as if he hadn’t expected to say that, but couldn’t help himself.

“What do you mean?” I responded dryly.

“That guy – Gerardo – he’s a dick. He doesn’t treat you like you deserve.”

“And how would you know what I deserve?” I snapped back. “This coming from a guy who has a new model on his arm every week. What do you know about dating? What do you know about love?” I could feel myself getting angrier. Truth be told, a lot of this anger wasn’t directed at Charles. Pierre and I had discussed this so many times, I was over it.

“I know enough to know that he doesn’t deserve your love.” I scoffed at his comment. The audacity of this man.

“Charles, before we both say something we regret, I am going upstairs and to my room to wait for my boyfriend. I don’t know what’s come over you, but I’m not going to stand here and listen to this.”

Before he could utter another word, I stormed off into the elevator, closing it quickly before he could hop in. I felt bad leaving it like that before his race tomorrow, but I wouldn’t let myself hear that. I couldn’t bare the possibility that Charles was going to lecture me on deserving better, but then not offer himself up as a possibility. I loved him too much for that, and I knew that pain would be more than I could handle.

****

I woke up the next morning and reached out to Gerardo’s side of the bed. Odd, I thought to myself, maybe he’s in the shower or went out to get coffee? I checked my phone and I couldn’t see any missed calls from him. There were a few texts from Charles – pathetic apologizes – I ignored those. Charles could stew for now, I decided. I called Gerardo a few times, but his phone went straight to voicemail. I texted Pierre and asked if he had seen him at the club, but he said he left only 10 minutes after Charles and I did and he hadn’t seen him since.

I took a shower and decided if Gerardo didn’t get back in the next 30 minutes, then I would call the hotel security to see if maybe he had gone to another room. As I was finishing getting my hair ready for the day, I heard a knock at the door. I opened it to see a very hungover Gerardo, still in last night’s clothes.

“Where the fuck have you been?” I demanded

“Keep your voice down woman, I’m nursing a headache,” he said as he plopped down on the bed. I just stared at him in complete disbelief, motioning for an answer on where he had been. He looked up at me and rolled his eyes.

“Oh come off it, a mate was in town last night so I stayed at his. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, love,” he said with such smooth mockery I thought I was going to faint from anger.

“We have to be at the track in 30 minutes and you aren’t even close to being ready!” I shrieked. I had never been late for ay of Pierre’s races, and there was no way I was going to be start now.

“Then go without me – I need to sleep.” I just rolled my eyes at his comment.

“Sleep!? You should have been doing that last night with me when I came home. You promised me we’d go together. We have barely seen each other in the last month.”

“Stop being so needy, (Y/N). I’ll come out with you later. Who cares about watching your brother anyway? It’s not like he’s going to win.”

No I was livid. You can insult me, but don’t you dare insult Pierre, I thought to myself. “If you can’t make it to today’s qualifying, then don’t be here when I get back.”

“Jesus, (Y/N), Cathy would never be this needy,” he grumbled. I doubt he was expecting to hear that. Cathy was his ex-girlfriend who, in my opinion, spent way too much time hanging around Gerardo for them to be platonic. I often let it slide, but it irked me to no end.

“Well Cathy isn’t your girlfriend, I am, in case you forgot,” I declared.

“I’m sure she’d take the job back if you don’t want it… at least that is what she said in Tuesday,” he sneered. I knew it – I knew he had gone out on Tuesday after dinner with me.

I was fuming. Fuck this, I thought. Maybe Charles is right.

“Fine – then why don’t you give Cathy a call. When I get back from this race, I expect you to be gone.” With that, I picked up my bag and headed out the door, making a point to slam it on the way out. As I got downstairs, I saw Pierre was already waiting for me in his car. I hopped into the front seat and smiled.

“No Gerardo?” He gave me a questioning look. I just shook my head and he sighed. “Then off we go.”

Practice 2 and the Sprint Race went well for Charles; Pierre not so much. I tried to ignore the fact that I was fuming that Gerardo had not come to the Sprint Race and just focused instead on Pierre, who was incredibly upset about his car. By the time the sprint race was over, I had a text from Gerardo on my phone with just a plane emoji. Well, it was good while it lasted I guess, I sighed to myself. Pierre, even if his horrible funk could tell that I was upset. He guessed immediately what was wrong.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but honestly, it’s the best news I’ve heard all day. That guy was an ass, even Daniel Ricciardo didn’t like him, and he likes everyone.” I lightly giggled at his comment. It was true, if Danny Ric didn’t like him – I was likely better off without him.

At the end of the sprint race, as teams were packing up, I wanted to sneak out and talk to Charles, apologize for yesterday and to tell him that he was right – Gerardo was in fact a dick. But as I searched the paddock for him, I couldn’t find him anywhere. I sent him a quick text, apologizing for last night and congratulating him on his race, but he didn’t respond.

Guess I deserved that.

****

Sunday morning I woke determined to find Charles. We’d never let a fight linger this long, and I wanted to wish him luck before the race. I felt terrible knowing that he was going into the race thinking I was mad at him. I headed straight to the Ferrari garage – I knew he would be there early, he was always one of the first drivers to arrive on race days.

“Carlos, have you seen Charles?” I asked the Spanish driver. He just smiled at me with that warm smile and nodded.

“Ahh, so this is the reason Charles bit my head off yesterday,” he said with a cheeky grin. I quirked an eyebrow and looked at him, unsure what to say. “Charles is in his driver’s room – do lover boy a favor and tell him what we both know to be true.”

I mumbled my thanks and headed towards the room, trying to slightly ignore Carlos’ weird comment and sneaky grin. Carlos was a wonderful friend to Charles, but he was always making comments about Charles and I being together and it was constantly getting on my last nerve.

I knocked on Charles’ drivers room lightly, in case he was having a nap or was in an important meeting. “I don’t want to be bothered,” he shouted back on the other side of the door.

“Tough, cause I want to bother you,” I yelled back, hoping my joke would lighten the mood just a tad. I could hear Charles’ foot steps pad over to the door. He opened it slightly and looked at me, as if he was trying to determine if I was really there and not a figment of his imagination.

“(Y/N), why are you here?”

“I wanted to apologize in person… turns out you were right, and I felt like you deserved an apology. I couldn’t stand the idea of you driving off today mad at me. If something happened… I’d never forgive myself.” It all came out in a tumble.

Charles just nodded and opened the door wider, motioning for me to come into the room. “Thanks,” he said quietly. His eyes were looking at me so intensely, but his voice was soft and relaxed, as if he was trying to ‘play it cool.’

“So does that mean its over between you and Gerardo?”

“Yes, we broke it off Saturday when he refused to come to the sprint race, and then informed me that he was still seeing his ex-girlfriend. He then decided insulting Pierr-“

Before I could finish my sentence, Charles’ lips were on mine and my back was pushed up against the wall of his driver’s room. I could feel one of his hands cup my face while the other went to the small of my back. After a few moments I pushed him back a tad, gasping for air and staring at him. His eyes were wild and full of something that looked like lust. That couldn’t be right. Was my crush, Charles Leclerc, lusting after me? As we stared at each other, both catching our breathes, I went to say something but stopped myself. Truth was, I had no idea what to say at this moment. I was in shock. What did this kiss mean?

It's as if Charles could see the internal conversation I was having with myself. He once again grabbed my waist and pulled me into him, peppering small kisses on my hips and face.

“I have wanted to do that for no less than 7 years,” he whispered, still putting small kisses on my neck and shoulders. “I am so sorry it took this long.” I just stared at him, unable to utter words back to him. He smiled a bit, clearly sensing my shock and inability to register what was happening. Before I could respond, I heard a knock at the door.

“Charles, it’s time to hop in the car.” Charles grabbed my hand, brought it up to his mouth and kissed my knuckles, as if I was a princess and he was a knight going off to battle.

“I’d love to continue this discussion after the race, mon amie, if you would like. In the meantime, wish me luck.” I simply nodded at him.

As he was walking down the hallway all I could think to yell back at him was, “Don’t let Pierre beat you!” He laughed and then walked out of his drivers room, leaving me for the first time in a while, completely speechless. As I exited his room, I saw Carlos standing a little ways up the hallway. He waved at me. His body language was calm, but the grin on his face said he knew exactly what had just happened. I rolled my eyes and trotted towards the Alpha Tauri Garage.

*****

“And there you have it”, the announcer yelled into the microphone, “Charles Leclerc is back on top with a well deserved race win!”

The stands full of people were going wild, even though it was the Red Bull ring, Ferrari flags were waving everywhere. As the paddock and track were opened up, I ran towards the podium, spotting first Pierre. I gave me brother a big hug, whispering better luck next time in his ear. He nodded, clearly disappointed at his P15 finish. As Pierre turned to head back to his garage, I searched the crowd frantically for Charles.

There he was – up by his car, still hugging his team and family. I pushed my way through the crowd and got as close to the front as I could. Fortunately Lorenzo saw me and pulled me forward, dragging me all the way up to where the Leclerc family was congratulating Charles. As I moved to step up next to Lorenzo, I felt someone grab my face. I looked up and there I was, face to face with Charles. Over the last two hours I had contemplated what I wanted to say to Charles, but the moment I saw his face, every thought I had went out the window.

Charles smiled – that million dollar smile – and kissed me. He kissed me hard and with such gusto I felt like the wind was being knocked out of me –honestly, it was a little too passionate for us being in the middle of the pit lane. I grabbed onto his chest and he pulled me closer.

“I love you (Y/N) Gasly,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s always been you. Tell me you feel the same.”

“There’s never been anyone else that’s come close,” I whispered back.

Charles put our foreheads together and kissed my cheek one last time before his team dragged him off to the cool down room. At that moment I was acutely aware that everyone around me, including his family, had now started staring at me. Lorenzo smiled and gave me a big hug. “It’s about time,” he yelled into my ear.

I watched the podium celebration; I had never been more proud, or happier for him. Once the podium celebration ended, Lorenzo snuck me back to Charles’ driver room.

I knocked on the door and it quickly opened. Charles pulled me inside and shut the door, pushing me back up against the wall of his drivers room. Unlike the last time, Charles’ hands were frantically all over me – rubbing up and down my body. He was like a man starved, trying to memorize every curve of my body. I felt like I was on fire, ever nerve ending was burning like a million suns.

Charles picked me up and moved me to the red sofa in the corner of his room. He gently placed me down, before continuing to kiss me with such ferocity and passion – passion that I had never experienced before. I pushed him back just a bit.

“Need some air,” I chuckled, staring straight into his beautiful green-hazel eyes. He smiled at me and then continued to kiss that sweet spot on my neck that he had just discovered, pulling a moan out of me in the process.

“Oh, my love, how I have dreamed of hearing those sounds come out of your lips.” He moved his lips back to mine and kissed me deeply, pushing his tongue gently into my lips. His hands slowly went up my shirt, taking their time going up my body before resting on my boobs, squeezing lightly. I let out a small moan – it felt amazing to have Charles touch me like this. I had dreamed about this; all those times I pulled out my vibrator in the dead of night, pretending it was Charles using it on me, instead of myself.

“Oh Charles,” I sighed as he leaned closer into me, his thighs pressed between my legs. Soon his fingers were moving back down to the waist band of my pants. He slowly unbuttoned my pants and looked at me, quietly asking for permission to move further. I nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly, and he smirked, helping me lift my hips as he pulled my pants and underwear off of me. He picked up my red thong and smirked at me. I could tell he felt victorious, and as much as I wanted to snark back and deny his cocky face this victory, I couldn’t manage to get a word out before he said, “Let me show you what it means to put a woman’s pleasure first.”

And show me he did.

Charles spread my legs and held them in place before diving in, licking gentle kitten licks up and down my core. Amazing could not begin to describe how it felt to have Charles between my legs. Slowly he took one finger and pushed it inside me. I was already soaking wet, so his index finger went in with ease. He pumped his finger in and out, all while licking and kissing at my clit. The man clearly had experience, that much was clear. Within an embarrassing amount of time, I could feel my orgasm approaching.

“Charles, I .. uh…” was all I could get out. My moans were getting louder, and I put my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle my sounds. Charles quickly grabbed my arm, yanking it down.

“Absolutely not, my love, I want to hear the sounds of my victory.” He pushed a second and then a third finger in, doubling down on the pressure on my clit. Before I knew it, I could feel myself come undone underneath him. I let out a loud scream of his name, and then tried to catch my breath as I came down from my high.

“You taste so good, princess, just like I knew you would.”

I felt like the nickname should not have affected me like it did, but with his beautiful smile looking at me, I felt like the most special girl in the world. I tried to sit up and grab his belt to undo it, but Charles had beaten me to it. Already unbuckling his pants, Charles pushed them down and took off his shirt, getting back ontop of me. I saw him grab a condom from his side table. He slid the condom on and then stared at me, his pupils were blown and I could see the lust on his face.

Charles Leclerc… all mine, I thought to myself.

He grabbed both my hands and put them above my head, kissing my neck tenderly. He inched in closer and soon I could feel him sinking into me. Even with the initial slight burning sensation, he felt incredible inside me. Charles stilled for a moment, looking deep into my eyes, clearly waiting for me to nod that I was okay before proceeding. After about a minute I nodded shyly, giving his plump lips a small peck before gasping as he pushed into me.

“Oh, mon amie, you feel incredible,” he sighed into my neck, pumping in and out slowly, clearly enjoying how much he was teasing me.

“Oh Charles, please.. need more…” I moaned into him, frantically trying to push him forward to get more friction. He smirked at me, but he picked up his pace. Before I could fully register what was happening, I could feel myself heading towards my second orgasm. Charles slid his hand down to my clit and started to stroke gently while pounding into me, hitting the right spot each time.

“I’m-I’m gonna…” was all I could get out before I screamed into his chest, gasping for air as what felt like an electrifying orgasm tore through me. Charles soon followed, his movements turning more into inconsistent ruts as he whispered my name into my ear and told me what a good girl I was.

We both laid there for a moment, catching our breaths. After a few minutes, Charles got up and threw the condom away in the bathroom before coming back over to me, rubbing a hot wash cloth between my thighs. When he was done, he moved me on the sofa and put me on top of him, my head resting on his chest, a blanket now over us.

I heard a quick ding come from my cell phone and I reached over for it, worried that Pierre was looking for me. I opened my phone to a text that simply read: “Told you so.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling slightly. I guess Pierre’s plan had worked after all.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #f1 fic #f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 x you #f1 fanfiction

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daturakillz · 1 year

Text

What do you need to hear right now? Pick an image!

No. 1.

Cards: RIDER WAITE TAROT:

King of pentacles, the magician, 2 of pentacles.

MAGICK OF YOU ORACLE:

26: protection: set personal boundaries. 27: resilience: burn away the past.

WOODLAND WARDENS:

The chipmunk and Laurel: success. The hound and pear: loyalty.

You have or will be stepping into a time of strength, success, and stability. You may have faced some recent struggles surrounding fluctuations regarding finances, stability, home life, work and or status. This could've been due to an unhealthy or less than favorable work / group situation, causing you to set boundaries and walk away.

You have (or will have) the tools available for you to embark on a new venture in business or career! If you're a practitioner of the arcane arts, I suggest using what you have on hand to do some sort of protection and prosperity spell or ritual! And if you are into astrology, and have your birth chart, look at your money houses and see if there's any particular transits going on for you at this time.

You're headed towards more committed and loyal bonds, finding people you can rely on and who can rely on you. Though the past may have been rocky, you're more than capable of producing a glorious harvest! And a harvest that you can share with those you love ♡

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

No. 2.

RIDER WAITE TAROT

Justice. 9 of swords. Knight of wands.

WOODLAND WARDENS

The ladybug and sweet pea happiness. The bobcat and blackthorn patience.

MAGICK OF YOU ORACLE

4: doable: the key is within your grasp. 16: merak: embrace oneness with the universe.

I heard "it's time to reflect." For you guys who picked number 2. I see that you've faced some major difficulties recently (or even over the past few years.) Through these harsh and trying times, you've likely developed some anxiety which in turn has lead to some sleepless or restless nights. And for that, I personally would like to say that I'm truly sorry to hear this. However! Despite what you may feel right now this period will come to an end. And I know, you're frustrated and impatient. But there are just somethings in this life we cannot rush, no matter how much we try to speed run to the finish line...sometimes we aren't meant to get there when we feel we should.

You maybe younger, and you're comparing yourself to others online or in your community that have reached seemingly impossible achievements. Maybe you're older, and you are upset at the life you've lead up until this point. No matter the age, you may feel you're slower than your peers, or lazy, or simply not good enough. But the human experience isn't about followers, ridiculous amounts of money and a picture perfect image. Being a late bloomer or simply not getting the current social trend, doesn't mean you're destined for failure or that something is wrong with you. The world we're living in is complex, distorted, and layered in so much that it can easily overwhelm us.

You deserve to discover your passions again, to reach for the light again, to walk with life without pressure again. Take some time to reflect, to recover, and don't push yourself to be something you are not. Sometimes, you just need to slow down and reevaluate what you want, what you're feeling, or what you simply need.

Happiness will find you again, it may not be today, it may not be this month. But slowly, as you recover and regain your strength you will find that the key is within your grasp. And when you find it, I want you to GRAB IT! Take what is yours because you have earned it my friend. Embrace the darkness, let it carry you to the light.

Justice will be served.

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

No. 3.

RIDER WAITE TAROT

3 of cups. King of Swords. Wheel of fortune.

MAGICK OF YOU ORACLE

12: hex: be still and allow the enemy to reveal themselves. 10: firgun: become a loving mirror.

WOODLAND WARDENS.

The weasel and pine: introspection. The turtle and coriander: satisfaction. The coyote and datura: deceit.

You may have had an altercation between enemies or discovered someone in your circle isn't as loyal and true as they've claimed. You may have had your suspicions about someone around you who isn't faithful or honest and the truth about them will be revealed. You're being advised not to act or react and instead allow them to trip themselves up on their own words / actions.

Regardless if you're currently going through this, or this entire ordeal has already happened and is a thing of the past or will be a thing in the near future, the most important thing for you to do now is be there for yourself. A period of introspection is necessary for you to process this action/betrayal or falling out.

Now, on the other side of the coin, and for a few of you. Whether you want to face it or not. It may have been you who lied to and betrayed someone you loved. You may of, at least at the time. Felt justified in your actions. Maybe you believed you were in the right, or you had all the answers. Maybe your view of them was distorted and murky, or you fell for lies and deceit from another about them. No matter the case, whether you did this on purpose or on accident, it's been eating at you subconsciously. You need to find the strength to face yourself and say "I fucked up." It ain't easy, believe me I know from personal experience. But you can't just pretend it didn't happen. We as people are going to hurt those around us with or without realizing it, none of us are innocent and none of us are perfect. You gotta look at yourself and still love who you are and accept that we all make mistakes. If you're truly sorry, and you now understand that your actions weren't just or simply were shitty, then apologize if you can. And if you can't, then as the God of War kratos said himself: don't be sorry, be better.

Allow the one you hurt to find peace, and allow yourself to find peace.

And as for those of you who were hurt, you will recover from this. This was fated to happen not because the universe is cruel or something big like that, but because that is simply how people are. The truth comes out eventually whether we'd like it to or not in most cases.

For both parties here, when all is set and done, you will find satisfaction and move on.

🕯🌹🕯🌹🕯🌹🕯

If you enjoyed this reading or it was accurate to you and your situation then please let me know, be it a simple like, follow/subscribe, a comment and or save! I hope you found this to be helpful, and that you have a great rest of your day or night!

Take care ♡

(I apologize for auto corrections and typos)

#astrology #esoteric #tarot #witchcraft #pick a pile #tarot reader #tarot reading #pick a card #pick a card channel #tarot card reading #what do you need to hear #pick an image

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tillthelandslide · 8 months

Text

Same For You (7) Hate Missing You

Series Masterlist

(6) The Dinner

Series Warnings: slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap, complicated relationship (low-key unhealthy dynamics), eventual love...

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @theoriginalwhatsername @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊)

A/n: hi everyone 👋 just wanted to say a huge thank you to all the support on this series so far, it means a lot to me. I hope you continue to enjoy it, let me know what you think, my inbox is always open so share your thoughts, predictions, what you'd like to see, who you're rooting for, whatever 💞 also once again, next part will be posted once this reaches 100 notes :) - love Lou

She had been avoiding both of them like the plague. She had seen Charli a few times, the girls going for drinks a few times, but neither of the men were mentioned once, a clear rule y/n set down the moment they were with each other. She was thankful Charli didn't mention it, she didn't press, didn't demand a reason as to why she didn't want to talk about either of the guys. She had even spoken to George a few times and seen him twice, the two of them chilling in his and Charli's house and sharing ideas for songs, Y/n sharing some demos that George took to work on.

The distance didn't stop either of them from constantly texting or calling her. They both started to get worried when she took a while to reply, or didn't pick up the phone. She would text back hours after their messages were sent, with an excuse, although most of the time they were in fact true, such as "sorry been writing with this artist" which was true, but she had only allowed said artists to book time in with her so she could distract herself.

She was currently sitting in the garage, working with an independent artist called Emma, she had written a song for her and they were currently recording it. She currently was sat alone at her computer, they were taking a quick break so Emma could smoke in her back garden, outside the shed. She's distracted by the buzzing of her phone, Matty's name lighting up her screen with a picture they had taken from the day they got coffee. She had since changed his name, seeing "bestie" every time he called was just confusing her further.

Emma walks back in as she stares at her phone.

"You can take that if you want" she says and y/n shakes her head.

"no it's okay" she says, turning her phone over so their picture isn't staring back at her.

"Nothing important" she tells herself this although she knows it's a lie. She missed hearing his excited voice on the other side of the phone, missed the late night phone calls when he'd ramble about music and art. They finish the song and Emma leaves, by that point it's pretty late at night.

When she eventually looks at her phone she sees 6 missed calls from Matty and 4 messages, 4 missed calls from Ross and 6 messages. She sighs deeply texting both of them the same message.

"Sorry was in the studio working with a girl called Emma" it only takes a minute to receive two texts back.

"Been working a lot recently, don't wear yourself out love... P.s miss you xx" - Ross

"No worries darling, look at you go aye! Miss you xx" - Matty

She ignores both messages, leaving her home studio and returning to her house.

The truth is she misses them both, so much. But she needed time to think, not that she had done much of that. She had been making herself busy so she was distracted and it didn't leave much time to think. She wasn't doing herself any favors and she knew that.

❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀ •°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀

The band do their usual set in the usual bar in Soho, the same, usual people standing right at the front. Her eyes flick to the back table where they're usually sat, but she doesn't spot them. Charli is sat with George, and their overlapping friendship groups. Carly and Adam are even here. But they aren't there. Ross and Matty...

They hadn't come. She shouldn't really be surprised, not only had she been avoiding the two of them but they were an internationally famous band who clearly had better things to do than seeing a small band perform. She knew they were on a break from touring, hence why she had seen so much of them recently, but she still wouldn't be surprised if they had other things to do.

The cheers from the crowd don't feel as good, not when she knows they aren't there screaming along. She didn't know what she expected, she had brought this upon herself. When they get off the stage her band goes to greet their friends, but she exits the building, grabbing a cigarette from her pack hidden in her pocket. She shakes the thought that she was being rude away from her brain. She hadn't officially met Carly yet and felt bad that she hadn't immediately went over and introduced herself, but she needed a fag, right now.

The door opens behind her and a pair of arms wrap around her frame, a sweet scent following behind them. Charli.

"You smashed it as always" she says, pulling back from the hug.

"Thanks" she murmurs, taking a sharp inhale of her cigarette.

Charli doesn't mention either of the men and she doesn't know whether she's thankful or whether she wants to hear the reason they're not here. She stays quiet, silently smoking her cigarette. The dark haired girl's hands finds her shoulders, pulling Yn so she's facing her. She had hoped they'd be here, that she was forced to see them, she could tell herself it was out of her control, that she couldn't do anything about it. She could pretend she had no other choice, when in reality she just wanted to see them. Being without them both, was torture.

"Hey are you okay? What's going on with you?" She says and y/n sighs deeply. She wants to tell her, she wants to tell her everything. She knew she wouldn't judge and truly she was the only person she could see who wouldn't hate her for the whole situation. The band would say she's messing up their chances. George would probably feel entitled to tell his friends, for they were his best friends in the whole world. And she didn't have anyone else to tell. She couldn't tell either of the men in question because they wouldn't understand and she could (and probably would) lose both of them.

"I'm just tired Char... Promise" she drops her cigarette and allows Charli to pull her into a hug.

"If you need to tell me anything... I'm here" she says and y/n mumbles a thank you. One thing that the absence of Matty and Ross had caused was her close bond with Charli, she was thankful for that.

"Now come join us" so she does, she sits with Carly and Adam, introducing herself to the smiley girl. She compliments Y/n and her band, mentioning "the guys wouldn't shut about you... you put them to shame really" it makes her laugh and the three begin talking about all sorts. Matty and Ross slip from her mind a little bit, not fully disappearing but slightly less present. The group laughs and has fun and she's distracted again. Blissfully blocking both men out. Fairly successfully too.

❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀ •°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀

A pile of scrunched up papers are scattered around her, the studio floor barely visible through the white sheets. She arrived early this morning, surprised to see George already at the sound board, editing bits and bobs. She has avoided both Ross and Matty for exactly 6 days now, but she knew today that would come to an end, she'd be forced to be near them and she knew that her unclouded mind would be foggy again and she'd be right back at square one, just as confused as ever.

One particular loud sigh (among other annoyed, restless and agitated noises) draws George from his work at the computer, spinning around in the chair and looking at her.

She looked tired, bags were under her eyes and he noticed how her thumb on her left hand was bleeding slightly. He leaves the room, going to the bathroom of the studio and grabbing a sterile wipe and a plaster. He approaches her slowly, leaning down and sitting with her and even that doesn't draw her attention away from her notebook. He gently takes hold of her left hand, bringing it towards him, and that's what makes her look at him.

"What are you doing?" She asks, eyes briefly drifting away from her writing and landing on George's hand. It's a funny sight, his huge hand, the most gentle she had ever seen it, holding hers as he cleaned her abuse. It was a sweet moment, between two friends and she was thankful for it.

"You're bleeding love" the "oh" that falls from her lips before her eyes are back on her book and she's withdrawing her hand from him, tells him everything he needed to know. This was a common occurrence for her, they hadn't spent enough time alone together for him to know what she was like when she was anxious or agitated, he didn't know the tell tell signs of such feelings. But he takes her hand back into his as he tears the packet with his teeth.

"Let me do this for you okay?" He asks and she nods, allowing him to clean the wound, the blood (although not very much) sleeps into the wet fabric and it stings slightly. She flinches and he murmurs a sorry.

"Talk to me... What's up?" He asks. Truth is he didn't know her all that well, but he wanted to, just like Ross and Matty... Well maybe not just like them. He wanted to be her friend. They had spent a fair amount of time with each other but it was mostly for work. Of course, she was easy to get along with and George saw just as Matty and Ross did, that she was kind and a good person to be around. He cared for her already, he supposes that was something obvious about her, she drew people in, even just as friends. They wanted to know her.

"Nothing what are you talking about?" He furrows his eyebrows at her and scoffs.

"The scrunched up and ripped paper around the room says otherwise love"

"I just can't get this song right okay?" She says and he nods as he wraps her thumb in a plaster, letting her take her hand back.

"thanks"

"No worries... Whats the song about?" She thinks it's the first time in the whole time they've been working together, that someone has asked what the meaning of the song was and it throws her off for a second.

"I want to write a song about... how I always go after the wrong guy... Always end up getting my heart broken" she explains and George nods. He pulls her notebook and reads the words out loud.

"My brain twists and turns Craving for a touch that burns Every time I try to put myself first I drown in this pain, my heart might burst I wish it didn't have to hurt so much I'm in a million pieces, my soul I can't touch I'm screaming inside, my emotions I can't clutch" his eyebrows furrow, thinking about he words, before he looks up at her.

"what's wrong with this? It's good"

"i don't feel like it captures how I feel" he nods along.

"how do you feel?" It's a simple question, but the answer is far from simple, she doesn't know how to explain it, which is why she thinks she's struggling to get it into the paper in front of her.

"Okay... We're doing this then?" She asks and George looks confused, furrowing his eyebrows at her.

"What do you mean?"

"If I tell you, you have to promise it doesn't leave this room"

"of course... Now explain" she's thankful that he's there for her, that he wants to know. She's aware this is the first person she would've even hinted at how she was feeling.

"So I always seem to go for guys who just break my heart... And now... Hypothetically there might be a guy who is so god damn good and pure... And what... What if I don't deserve that? What if the reason I loved so hard before but ultimately got my heart broken .. is actually because I just don't deserve it and what if... I'm pushing him away because it might actually be good for once" she asks and George frowns.

"that's what I want to write about"

"Well purely hypothetically... If said guy is perhaps one of my best mates... Hypothetically I'd say you do deserve that love" she shakes her head at his words. She briefly wonders which one he's referring to, but shakes the thought from her mind.

"listen y/n... If you loved the wrong person that deeply, imagine how deeply you'll love the right one... And if they're the right person... They'll love you just as much"

"you're quite wise George Daniel" she leans her head onto his shoulder as a silent thank you and he smiles. She thinks about mentioning Matty, explaining that she felt something (although what and how deeply was not clear yet) but before she gets the chance, the door opens revealing both Matty and Ross who both smile at the sight of the two of them. Suddenly they're both right there again, stabbing at her heart and mystifying her brain , she realises her attempt to avoid them, to ice them out was futile because they're there, clouding her every thought, painting her brain with beautiful hews of Ross and Matty.

"Are you bonding?" Matty's voice rings out and both of them groan as they stand up.

"Shut up" George says as he returns to the sound desk. Matty walks towards her and is quick to pull her into a hug.

"hi" he says smiling down at her.

"Hi" she smiles back. Matty leaves to look at what George has been working on and she takes the time to walk over to Ross, who is smiling widely down at her.

"Hello stranger" he says and she feels guilty immediately but allows him to pull her to him, hugging her tightly. His lips graze her cheek quickly, not able to help himself. He breathes in her hair as he mumbled a "miss you". She's half expecting him to say something about how she was clearly avoiding him but he doesn't and she's unbelievably thankful for that.

She doesn't tell him she misses him back, she just smiles into his chest, finally pulling away when she hears Matty and George talking.

"How was the show on Saturday? Sorry I couldn't make it, Jamie needed me for a dirty hit thing" Matty explains and she smiles.

"Yeah it was good... George and Char came... And Hann and Carly too" she says and Matty raises his eyebrows. Her voice is slightly withheld, withdrawn, distant. He frowns at her, it was like two strangers talking to each other, like this conversation was more of a duty rather than between two friends who were genuinely interested in catching up.

"Good...." He says turning back to George who frowns up at him. She goes back to the papers, collecting the crumpled up ones and discarding them, Ross joins her. And his presence is suddenly too close for her so she stands immediately.

"I'm going outside for a bit" she announces, leaving before anyone has a chance to say anything.

When she's gone, the three guys share a look, and it's a matter of time before one of them speaks up.

"what's going on with her?" Both Ross and Matty ask George at the same time. He feels like a deer caught in the headlights. He quite successfully feigns ignorance, shrugging his shoulders. But then he feels it's not fair on his best friends.

"Maybe you should talk to her instead of asking me" George says, turning back to his screen.

"Mate I've been trying all week..." Matty speaks up

"she's been busy mate" Ross says and Matty's eyes find his.

"You know that's bullshit... She doesn't need to work with other people, she's doing this for a reason" he then argues. Ross cant argue with his logic, he can't find a fault to his reasoning, because it was true. It was obvious she was avoiding both of them, but neither knew why.

"I don't know what you want me to say" George says. Matty is then leaving before Ross gets a chance to attend to her first. He wanted to be the one to console her if she needed it, but of course Matty beat him to it.

"Just leave them mate, trust me... You're good. She's fine" Ross doesn't know what George means, but he shrugs and sits down anyway, eyes trained on the door just waiting for the moment it opens and she's back again.

Matty finds her smoking, nearly at the end of her cigarette. His eyebrows raise at the sight, not knowing she smoked. He doesn't comment though. He stays silent for a second.

"You've been avoiding me... Why?" He asks abruptly making her turn to look at him before turning back away from him.

"I haven't Matty... I've been busy" again it feels like a stranger is talking to him, not someone who he was considering to be one of his closest friends now. Not someone who got him, who he cared deeply for.

"If you say so love..." He inhales a puff of his own cigarette and suddenly her eyes are on him, watching as he breathes it out deeply. She's missed him, that much was obvious.

"Enjoy the vinyl I sent you?" He asks and she nods, eyes trained on the cigarette lying limply in-between his teeth as he talks, his hands clasped around his phone as he types something out. He doesn't see her nod so his eyes snap up, awaiting an answer.

"Yeah... Been playing it a lot recently actually" she says, and it sounds like her again, not withdrawn or pulled back, just her. His friend, his y/n.

"What's your favorite?" He asks and she pauses to think. He shoves his phone back in his pocket, fingertips clasping the cigarette again, his other hand dropping to his side. She suddenly feels the urge to take his hand in hers but she doesn't.

"I love all of them... But Sad To Breathe or Boyhood are my favorites at the moment" she says and Matty smiles.

"I'll tell Amber... She'll love that" she smiles at that.

"Sunshine Baby is a great song too" his eyes sparkle, and they smile at each other. He steps forward and she lets him, he drops his cigarette and so does she as he wraps his arms around her.

"Missed you, y'know" he says, face burying into her hair.

"Missed you too Matty" she admits. He doesn't ask why she was avoiding her again, he doesn't bring it back up and she doesn't know how to feel about it.

"You can avoid me all you want... But don't do that to Ross, he doesn't deserve that" his words are like a ton of bricks falling on her and she doesn't know how to react. So she doesn't, she just nods and murmurs a silly little "sorry"

"Let's get back inside" he says and she agrees, walking back to the studio with his arm hooked over her shoulders as he asked questions about the girl she was working with.

"I actually ended up writing a song after working with her that I really like" Ross and George catch that part of their conversation, both smiling at her before George speaks up.

"Let's see then" he says, she retrieves her notebook from where she discarded it, flicking to the right page, she wonders whether she should show them this. Would this reveal too much? she thinks. She hands the book to George first, his eyes flick over the words as Matty and Ross watch. She stands next to him, bringing her thumb that is wrapped in the plaster to her mouth before realising she couldn't abuse it like usual.

Matty notices the plaster, so does Ross, both wondering what happened. The injury was minor, but the both of them were still worried.

George's eyes find hers and he raises his eyebrows, silently asking "you sure?" she nods at him and he nods back.

"I like it" he confirms, handing her back the book. She passes it to Matty, him and Ross read it together.

Hate Missing You: I'm drowning in sadness without you, can you hear me? Hold my breath and count to three, who am I without you? You're the part of me I cannot see, won't you just let it be? I miss the feeling of being home, I feel lost without you I miss you but the feeling of my heartbeat makes me nervous That way you smile and my heart skips a beat, it makes me dizzy Sorry for the distance, it's tearing me apart, it's hard And there's no way to return your message from my heart So I make myself busy, giving me an excuse as why I can't see you, I can't choose between two halves of myself

They're lost for words, both looking at her, not speaking. She feels unbelievably nervous, awaiting a response that doesn't come for a few moments.

"This is.... its good Y/n/n" Matty says, she senses that its not all he has to say. If she could creep into his mind she'd see all his thoughts and she'd notice there was so many of them. Who was this about? Is this really how she felt? Is she okay? How can he help?

"It's powerful, raw.... its good love" Ross then says, but again she senses that he wants to say more. He wanted to know who this was about. Who got to have these hauntingly beautiful words written about them? Who was the one she missed? And how could he take the pain away?

They begin working on the song, Ross records some bass lines in the absence of Clara, Matty and Y/n both record some guitar bits and Y/n also records some piano bits. George adds in some simple drum beats.

Things with Matty seemed okay, almost back to normal. But things with Ross were suddenly different and she wasn't sure whether she liked it or not. Sure, lingering touches that screamed "I want you" were still shared, and looks that shouted "my soul yearns for you" happened more often than not. But ever since having dinner at Charli and George's house, ever since she kissed his cheek and left him on her door step, ever since she woke up from that blissful dream, something had shifted. They seemed to be avoiding things more, he hesitated before making his usual comments, comments that were once flirty seemed a little bit apprehensive now.

She knows he's only doing what she said, she told him they couldn't, so he was trying to respect that. But sometimes, when that thought slipped from his mind, the normal things that were 'them" happened, like those touches and stares. But even through that, something felt off. Her mind was still reeling from him holding her thigh with such a grip that it was as if she was his anchor keeping him on the ground. She swears she can still feel the way his thumb grazed the skin, even 6 days later, 6 torturous days she spent avoiding him. And she'd be lying if she said she hadn't found herself staring at those hands of his one too many times when he played the bass.

She excuses herself from the studio and the three men, explaining that she just needed a moment alone. They had been working for what felt like hours now and she couldn't handle one more of those longing looks from Ross, or one more of those eyebrow raises from Matty when he caught her staring at Ross.

She finds her coat that she had hung up upon her arrival, slipping her arms through it and going outside. Her hand finds the inside pocket, finding the pack of cigarettes she reserved for special occasions like this. When she was well and truly confused and stressed. She lights the cigarette easily, she takes three long drags before the door opens.

She knew it was only a matter of time before one of them found an excuse to join her, despite her request to be alone. She rolls her eyes slightly as she looks at Ross, who has his eyebrows raised at her, eyes flicking towards the cigarette in-between her fingertips.

She chuckles and shrugs her shoulders. He hadn't seen her smoke before and it was clear it wasn't a common occurrence, and that fact alone makes him wonder why she needed one now.

"Are you okay love?" He asks and he truly knows something is up when she just nods and deters the conversation.

"How'd you manage to get away from them?" She asks and he laughs, pulling his own pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one. She gives him the same look he gave her, sure she had seen pictures of him smoking, but she had thought he was more of a social smoker. This might have proved that, that was not the case.

He raises his eyebrows back and says a quick "sorry to disappoint you" which she just shakes her head at, for she was also smoking so she didn't care if he did too. It was actually kind of hot. Oh for God sake woman stop.

"Matty got a phone call so I slipped out and said I was going for a fag... George didn't care..." Ross explains and she nods.

His eyes wander over her features, taking in the way she's breathing deeply, in and out, smoke falling from her lips and nostrils. She smokes effortlessly and Ross can't help but like the sight. She looked good, as always, slightly tired but just as beautiful as the first time she took his breath away. But something was off, that much was clear.

"Are we okay?" He asks and she nods, but doesn't speak.

"Maybe try that again... But more convincing" he says and she can't help but laugh. She takes one last puff and drops the cigarette to the floor, stubbing it out with her booted foot.

She steps towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist, needing a hug from him more than anything. The door that was cracked open, is now swinging open, nearly snapping off it's hinges.

"I'm sorry I've been off and avoiding you... Just didn't know how to act around you" she admits into his chest. He forgets about the cigarette he was nursing, dropping it to the floor and letting it burn out as he allowed his arms to wrap around her. He rests his head on top of hers, breathing her in. The new mix of her with the addition of tobacco is even more addicting and he can't help but sigh.

"Don't be sorry... It's hard, I've felt it too... all day in fact" he admits and she feels slightly more at ease at that.

"I know you said we can't... And that's fine... But I can't keep acting like this, it feels wrong. If I wanna hug you I wanna hug you. If I want to hold your hand I want to hold your hand.... Is that okay?" She knows she should shake her head, say no, it's not okay. But she couldn't help herself. She was addicted to him and he was even more addicted to her.

So she nods, she pulls back to look at him and nods, placing her head back against his lower chest and hugging him tightly.

"So what does that mean then?" He asks, his own way of saying what are we? They clearly weren't just friends, but she wasn't allowing them to be truly more than that. They were in some kind of limbo between both of those identifiers.

"We're just us... Is that okay?" And he nods, and smiles widely down at her. He could deal with that for now. It was better than the alternative which was not having her in any way, and he couldn't live like that.

"And Matty?" Ross asks, and she raises her eyebrows, unsure what he was getting at.

"I know you said nothing is going on... but I cant help but sense something there... if you say its nothing its nothing... Just be honest with me, I can take it" Ross says and she nods, sighing deeply.

"I'm still figuring that out..." its the first time she's been truthful about Matty, not just to Ross but to herself.

"Okay... I can deal with that" he says, smiling down at her.

They return to the studio finishing up the song. By the time they leave, its dark outside, George had bid them farewell maybe 20 minutes earlier, hugging her tightly and telling her he was there for her if she needed. The exchange didn't go unnoticed by the remaining men. London is cold but the lights sparkle and she gets that childish glow in her eyes as she walks down the steps from the studio. Ross and Matty can't take their eyes off her but for once she doesn't notice. Matty breaks first, eyes falling from her to Ross.

He notices the glint in his eyes and the way his dimples show deeply, the way his eyes crease. He's seen a similar look before, but nothing of that calibre. Matty's smile drops, he had to stop this. He had to.

That look. That look on his best friend's face, it told him everything he needed to know. That he liked her perhaps more than Matty did, maybe not, but he would always, always put his friends needs and desires before his own.

The problem was, Matty was unsure he'd be able to stop. He didn't know if it was possible. But he'd try... even if it destroyed him.

"Hey um" he hesitates, their eyes fall on him "you guys go ahead, I've left something upstairs" he says. Ross frowns at him.

"You sure mate? We can wait" yn nods too.

"No it's okay... go" he smiles at his friends and then he begins walking up the steps. They begin walking down the path, with Matty watching. Watching the way he made her laugh, watching the way one arm came to rest against her shoulders, watching the way, she, the one he so desperately wanted, seemed right in his arms... At home.

Note: low-key don't really like this chapter... But oh well. The only bit I actually like is the george x yn bit :(

(8) Studio Sessions

#same for you the 1975 series #the 1975 #ross macdonald #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy x reader #ross macdonald x reader #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fan fic #matty healy fan fic #the 1975 fan fiction

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lightninginapuddle · 4 months

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Blackbeard's musical theme S1 vs S2 observations

I've been rewatching the show recently to find the scenes where Blackbeard's Theme is used, and here are some observations I can share with those interested. I'm not going to get technical or anything, just pinpoint some things I found interesting in the use of that theme in the context of the show, the characters, and the scenes it appears in.

Just so you have it in your ears, this is Blackbeard’s Theme. When I searched for scenes, I was looking for a specific leitmotif that derives from the very beginning of that linked song: the 3 held, rumbly, low notes (E, G and D#/Eb in that order), or a variation of that pattern. In the show, this main theme is often followed by strings playing a high-pitched sustained harmony with fast repeated notes (that or maybe these are long slow strokes with lots of vibrato, you tell me, I don't play a string instrument).

The theme is meant to be menacing.

My observations under the cut, sorry it's a little messy!

- Season 1: the theme is introduced by Izzy in A Damned Man and last heard in a scene with Ed in Wherever You Go, There You Are. The theme is never played for anyone else but them throughout season 1.

- Season 2: the theme is reintroduced by Ed at the wedding in Impossible Birds, and we last hear it at the beginning of Izzy’s death scene in Mermen.

- Contrary to season 1, the theme also appears with the crew when they are fighting with each other in Fun and Games, and with Lucius when he's alone and holding the wooden shark in The Curse of the Seafaring Life. The theme we hear in the scene with the crew is a variation from the original theme.

Some analysis could be drawn from this, such as Blackbeard's poison leaking out of Izzy and Ed and contaminating the crew and reflecting in the way their trauma is portrayed on screen. The theme being heard with lucius is particularly interesting to me, though I'm still trying to form my analysis of this. Maybe because the shark is a physical embodiment of Blackbeard to Izzy? And thus the essence of Blackbeard is transferred to that wooden shark? Who knows, your guess is as good as mine.

- Season 1: the theme is in 21 scenes in 5 episodes only (2,3,4,6 and 10). I’d argue that Izzy is the driving force of the theme in at least half of these scenes (12/21 vs Ed 9/21) as he carries the threatening essence of the theme.

- More than half of those appearances are in only 2 episodes: The Art of Fuckery (7 scenes) and Discomfort in a Married State (5 scenes), but never less than 3 scenes per episode for the other episodes.

- Season 1: we don't hear the theme in The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, This is Happening, We Gull Way Back and Act of Grace. It's interesting to note that, apart from Act of Grace, Izzy and Ed don't interact at all in those episodes.

- Season 2: 14 scenes in 6 episodes (1,2,3,4,5,8). The theme centers a lot more around Ed. At first because he's lost in the persona of Blackbeard and carries the threatening essence of the theme, and then because his fractured vision of himself is mending back with the Kraken and Ed to become one by the end of the season.

- 11 of those scenes are in 3 episodes: Impossible Birds and Mermen (4 scenes each) and Fun and Games (3 scenes). We hear the theme in only one scene for the other three episodes.

- Season 2: similarly, we don't hear the theme at all in Calypso's Birthday and Man on Fire. Maybe signifying the healing amongst everyone involved with Blackbeard? Ed is turning poison into positivity and the crew is healing and embracing him back, and similarly Izzy is embracing his own self-discovery rather than focusing on Blackbeard. In Man on Fire, Blackbeard seems to have become something of the past, especially symbolised with Ed throwing his leathers in the ocean.

- Season 1: the theme is recognizable from one scene to the other, sometimes changing the melody of the motif a little bit, sometimes it’s instrumentalized a little differently (a piano instead of a cello for example), sometimes the motif is only one or two notes, but it mostly stays the same throughout the season.

- The only two times I can think of when the theme is the most “different” is in 1) The Art of Fuckery, when Ed is doing a fuckery with fireworks and descending from the sky with a harness. There, the theme mirrors the theatricality of the scene; 2) the very last time we hear the theme in Wherever You Go, There You Are, when Ed keeps Jim and Frenchie on his crew. The theme is sped up, more colorful and rhythmically more dynamic. To me, it symbolises the change in Blackbeard's persona as someone a lot less stable and more dangerous.

- Season 2: still mostly the same theme but it shapeshifts a lot more. The range gets broader, getting more and more high pitched, to the point of being shrill at times, which contrasts a lot with the low, rumbling sound of the cello we're so used to hearing, the main melody has more variations (with the crew in Fun and Games, with Izzy in Fun and Games and Mermen) and it even appears very distorted when Buttons is talking to a bound Ed in Fun and Games. Interestingly, the theme appears in more distinctly different variations in Fun and Games than any other episode, when every one is dealing with the brunt of their trauma.

- Season 2: when Ed is pointing his gun at the crew then at himself in Impossible Birds, the theme is the most shrill we've ever heard as the tension rises, with the same sustained harmony from the original motif played at a very high pitch and doesn't cease to be played until Izzy yells and the music completely stops. It picks back up once Ed shoots him, and the lower range of the theme emerges as well with the shrill harmony.

- Season 2: When we hear the theme with Ed by himself in Mermen, it's never heard on its own anymore. We hear it partnered with the Kraken theme and/or Gnossienne n°5. BUT the theme is pretty much in its original form and at that point in the season, we haven't heard it like that since Impossible Birds (if I'm not mistaken).

- Season 1: This happens only once, where the echo of Blackbeard's theme quickly morphs into Gnossienne when Stede realizes that maybe Ed does fancy a fine fabric in Discomfort In A Married State. (And no, I’m not taking the Kraken Theme followed by Gnossienne in The Art of Fuckery into account, as I’m only focusing on Blackbeard’s Theme here).

- Season 2: Let me also point out that we don't hear the theme with Ed after his discussion with Buttons in Fun and Games, and it's so fractured and distorted that it's hard to recognize at all. We hear it with the crew, Izzy and Lucius but not Ed until Mermen. And it comes back in Mermen following Pop Pop telling Ed to go back to what he is good at. This time however, what he's good at is not only being Blackbeard but channeling all the parts of himself to protect others.

- Also, as mentioned before, Izzy has a strong connection to the theme in season 1 but not nearly as much in season 2, if at all. The theme really is his in 2, arguably 3, scenes even though he is present in more than those two scenes (6/14). Now this is my interpretation, you're free to make your own, but I tend to analyze this as him losing control over Blackbeard, especially at the beginning of the season where we can see how he doesn’t know how to stop the spiral Ed is in. Izzy wanted Blackbeard and not Edward but it resulted in him having neither. And the disappearance of the theme with Izzy also symbolises that, Blackbeard doesn’t belong to him anymore. It's even more clear when we consider how Izzy was a driving force to the theme in season 1 or at least Ed and Izzy shared the theme somewhat equally -though in Izzy's favor (12 for Izzy, 9 for Ed)-, yet in season 2, 9 scenes out of 14 are all Ed compared to Izzy's 2/3.

- When the theme is heard with him again, Izzy is at his lowest point mentally. He's lost his leg and throws the unicorns ones to the feet of the crew before falling down and crawling away while the crew watches him move away with concern and pity. I personally think the theme coming back in that moment is some sort of reckoning for Izzy, and the theme is a variation of the original one too. Izzy fully faces what pushing for Blackbeard to keep existing cost him and he's having a hard time coping with it.

- The last two times we hear the theme with him after that, are: when he talks to Ricky, and the theme turns almost positive, hopeful even, maybe Izzy is allowing Blackbeard to be something positive instead of negative, paralleling Ed doing the same as he embraces all the parts of himself? Then, as a last echo, the final nail in the coffin so to speak, the theme shows up at the very beginning of Izzy's death scene. Here, the theme is higher pitched than the original version of it, and feels tight, strained and weak, almost paralleling Izzy holding onto life.

Feel free to draw your own conclusions if you even read all of that. That was a lot of rambles, sorry!

#ofmd #our flag means death #no one will care but eh #ofmd music #ofmd meta #ofmd analysis #feel free to correct me as well I might have missed A LOT of stuff #but this is at the top of my head for now #might add some stuff later on #my gifs

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yourfavealbumisgender · 9 days

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hey! I wanna ask you a few questions that I randomly thought of (all of pure curiosity):

1. do you sometimes listen to requested albums that you haven't heard of earlier?

2. I know you do icons of albums and EPs, but do you also do singles?

3. would you make an icon with a hetero/straight ally flag and a queer identity (eg. trans and straight, straight aroace, straight and queerplatonic etc.)?

4. why won't you icons with anyting Vivziepop-related?

okay uhhhh....

I definitely have put some artists on my "listen to this" playlist but I'm really slow at getting to them so I havent actually listened to them yet.

i'm okay with doing singles as long as they have some sort of official art associated with them.

i dont think id be comfortable posting straight flags on here at all since i made this blog to focus exclusively on queer identities, sorry

she's done some stuff thats made me uncomfortable like making b**stiality art, fanart for blair white (racist transphobe) (and i know she apologized for this but "finding comfort in hearing perspectives from all sides" about transphobia, ableism, and racism isnt a good excuse to me, and she definitely knew about a lot of this stuff when she made that fanart.) I've also heard that recently she's hired r*pe apologists on her show, ignored boycotts for palestine, and if this screenshot of her being transphobic is real then thats also not good (Edit: found a post with more stuff)

#asks #h.txt

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parttime-creative · 2 months

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I recently made a post about how I love gideons different depictions in fanart and on the cover (x) in which I mused about how I still wasn't sure if she was wielding a long sword or a great sword and several people have made good points of arguing that she is wielding a great sword not just a long sword.

Now that I've started to read Harrow for the first time (yes I am late to the party I am sorry. But I finally got the second and third book) her sword is more often described as a "two hander" or "great two hander" (which btw STILL doesn't make it clearer for me because Harrow is arguable so tiny and scrawny that she'd probably call a dagger "great" in comparison to her noodle arms... But that is beside the point xD) however the cover art (as I've not yet finished HtN) does look like another weird mixture between a longsword and a great sword and I remain confused.

The handle is much longer than for a usual longsword, however would fit a federschwert (a different type of longsword especially made for fencing, not so much for the battlefield. It's blade is usually much thinner tho, so I doubt it is a federschwert) it's crossguard also is kinda too big for the usual longsword, yet not entirely unseen. I did wield longswords with a crossguard like that.

However judging from nothing but the cover I do still think Gideon wields a longsword. Because the cover sword is just TOO SMALL for an actual greatsword.

I dont believe people realise HOW FUCKING HUGE an actual greatsword is. Like, yes Harrow is supposedly small so the sword on the cover DOES look big on her. But it is diagonally on her back and now reaches almost her knees. An actual GREATSWORD wouldn't even fit that way or her back (yes it's a fantasy drawing, yes usually swords like that can not be carried to draw on the back regardless if it's a long or great sword. We're gonna ignore that, cuz magic and necromancers and lyctors)

So I remain with my headcanon, that Gideon wields a longsword and not a greatsword.

To summarize:

A longsword is made for dueling AND for the battlefield

A longsword has several similar and adaptable techniques to a rapier in wielding.

A longsword is however heavier than a rapier, so a life long longsword fighter would have habits that would make their rapier fighting style uncanny ("you wield your sword like someone who is used to a two handed weapon")

A longsword CAN be wielded with one hand (a great sword 100% can't. It's just too damn big)

A greatsword is literally made to swing around yourself to makd room on the battlefield. Its slow if you want to hit something and it needs A LOT of momentum to be wielded. It was made to slay horses and break spears and knock people off their feet. If someone is used to wielding a greatsword all their life, learning the nimble techniques of a rapier in several days maybe a few weeks is.... hard to say the least. Their muscles wouldn't even be made for that.

A longsword is also called "zweihander" in german so harrow or gideon calling it a "two hander" is absolutely legit.

And last but not least, Harrow calling it a "great two hander".... Is just because she is DAMN tiny. I am 165 cm / 5' 4'' and my longsword reaches to my chest and it is not one of the big ones.

In conclusion: FOR ME IT IS MOST DEFINITELY A LONGSSWORD AND NOW I CAN COSPLAY/IMAGINE BEING GIDEON EVERYTIME DURING MY FENCING LESSONS EHEHEHEHEH

#I do however have a pet peeve with how some artists draw gideon sword #I don't care if they draw a longsword or a great sword #But please #If the balde is thicker than gideon forarm than it's neither a great nor longsword #Than it's an anime sword #And unwieldalbe sword #A sword that might as well be just a club #I would have no idea how anyone should wield those #But i guess that's another pet peeve i have with sword depictions #I love me some anime like thd next person #But some swords maaaan....#Looking at you berserk #And you cloud stripe #They LOOK awesome... But my sword loving heart is bleeding #Anyways i am getting of track #The locked tomb #Gideon the ninth #Harrow the ninth #Tlt

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tsintotwo · 2 years

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(Part 2/4)

Second post talking about Tom Sturridge in his projects (Part 1 here).

Remainder (2015)- Plot: Dude has an accident and is in a coma for months. Afterwards, he's forgotten a lot but weirdly, is remembering things that seem to have never happened. This dude is Tom. Now, I have to give it to the director- Tom has been shot GORGEOUSLY in this. The movie is slow at the start and honestly I was ready to happily treat and view this as a 2-hr modeling exercise feat. him. But things did get interesting, and I ended up kinda enjoying the movie. Tom's character gets slowly unhinged, and he portrays that so well. The voice, the attitude, the inevitable sexual tension- all of it had me mesmerized. He kisses a woman and a man. This 2nd kiss might just be, without any exaggeration, the hottest thing I've ever seen in my whole damn life. What's great about this is when he's kissing this man, it's not just like 'oh yeah sexy times!!1!' Basically his character had been trying to recreate a scenario (that happened with the 1st kiss) for months and with this man in this moment it's all come together- so he's ecstatic and almost delirious: that's the scene here. Idk how much the actors really got into this irl 'cause most of the kiss looks quite close-mouthed, but that matters zero per cent because HOLY FUCK they, esp. Tom, sell it like there's no tomorrow. He's just so. fuckin. INTENSE. I can swear to you right now: I will NEVER be over this. (Sorry for a longass kiss analysis; not tryna be pervy, it just really made an impact.)

Mary Shelley (2017)- Kissing husband in front of wife, flirting with said wife, making out with mistress, and then introducing everyone to his twink, all under a minute. Meet Lord Byron, ladies and gentlemen, a veritable chaotic devil. In the movie for, like, 15 mins, but Tom just rolls up and SETS THE HOUSE ON FIRE. Playing such an outrageous character, it might have been easy to make it a caricature. But Tom makes it believable, and you can kinda tell he's having fun with this. The effect is electrifying. Just, perfect casting.

Velvet Buzzsaw (2019)- I'd watched the movie when it came out 'cause I'm into horror/thrillers, but the only thing I remembered is not particularly liking it. I did go and look at Tom's scenes again (who, until recently, I'd totally forgotten was in this movie). He plays a hipster art critic, complete with pretentious scarves. It's a small role, and unremarkable. He does what the job asks of him. There's no lasting impact. (Did he come into the movie 'cause he's friends with Jake Gyllenhaal?)

Sweetbitter (2019)- Series on Starz. New adult girl, Tess, comes to NY, starts working at a high-end restaurant. Falls for bartender Jake immediately. But he's childhood friends+ with two-faced queen B Simone who's very territorial about him. Tess gets close with both of them, and you just know there's a clusterfuck coming. Which we didn't actually see arrive because the show got cancelled after 2 seasons. I did mostly watch this- interesting enough, but riddled with problems. That aside, Tom plays Jake and I have to say this is the only time ever I've thought him less than perfect. The character is a walking NA instalovey-romance trope with near zero redeeming qualities, that's one thing. But a. Tom's American accent was off (which is weird 'cause he's pulled it off decently enough in other things), and b. (I feel like this is the showmakers' fault)- this character is supposed to be a thirst trap: broody asshole, a player with tattoos, a classic bad boy- and I KNOW Tom can do that, be that. And yet, he kind of... wasn't, 100%? The show just failed to present him that way, and it's SUCH a missed opportunity. I mean, dude's got the looks, the charisma, has done awfully well in bad news/lusty devil roles before. So what gives? Just, frustrating. The intimate scenes in the show are VERY nicely done tho. Worth watching just for seeing Tom fuckboy-shoving and kissing a girl against a wall tbh (A taste here)

Irma Vep (2022)- HBO show. Actress separates from actor husband after cheating on him with a woman, goes to France to film a remake of a classic movie called 'Irma Vep' and reflect on life and shit. Yeah, I wasn't gonna watch this. So, I watched the parts with Tom. He's the ex-husband, now on friendly terms with the MC. I loved him in this: something so natural about both when he's having a quiet, regretful convo with his ex wife and being playful and upbeat with his young new gf. There's this scene when he's hurting, goes to the MC for comfort, and they end up sleeping together. It was SO well done- hesitation, hurt, desire, wanting each other, but still really looking for comfort... masterful, from both actors (Tom with Alicia Vikander) and the director.

Bonus: See Wall/A Life (2019)- Two monologues from Tom (Sea Wall) and Jake Gyllenhaal (A Life) at Public Theatre and on Broadway. They both got Tony noms for Best Actor for this. It kills me that there's no way to see it now (check out the trailer on yt, you'll regret too), but there's an audiobook for this done by them on Audible which I got. I just love Tom's voice, okay? Love the way he speaks, even when he's not being Morpheus. And him telling me a 36 min story where he gets hyper and then quiet, excited and then devasted, is in love, is heartbroken- and I can replay it as many times as I want? Just, gimme. Any day, anytime. I'm so happy this exists.

That's it for this post. I've watched more stuff, so there will be a next installment.

#tom sturridge #dream of the endless #sandman #the sandman #mary shelley #velvet buzzsaw #sweetbitter #irma vep #remainder #sea wall/a life #morpheus

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pink-strawberry-kissess · 7 months

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While I do agree with that last ask that Ada's outfit is truly not appropriate as a spy, I kinda wanted to put in my own little input. For one thing I totally agree with the fact that her outfit is something I could very much see a woman dressing for herself choosing. Not that women don't choose to dress super skimpy, but Ada's outfit in RE 4 Remake is, in my opinion, a pretty popular Fall/Autumn outfit among feminine presenting people (I mean people even joke on Tiktok about how Autumn is stylish black boot season lol) Other than her stilettos, her outfit is not that out there, in terms of comfort even. It's a knit dress top. Those are some of the more comfortable dresses, even if it is body con. It might be tight, but it's not modeled so tightly that it's "weird" if you get what I mean, and it's knit, and it can have some stretch, and it's moveable. (I feel like I can say that as someone who has worn a very similar dress and had to walk for several blocks in the winter) Respectfully, I really disagree that her current outfit is "less appropriate than her original outfit." If you've ever worn a maxi dress, one can know how impractical the long length/can be unless you were to like, tie it to the side or whatever. Shorter dress can be out of the way of your legs. I feel like if you removed her stilettos and gave her more practical boots, it's really not that crazy of an outfit. Frankly, just because a woman dresses femininely, doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Also honestly....? Just because someone has a cold personality doesn't mean they can't be stylish? Like....Wesker's new outfit is pretty stylish as well if we're going to be fully honest. As a female-presenting person, I don't think Ada's outfit has so much overt sex appeal. It's just something I've seen so often as an outfit for this season, and something I've seen other female presenting people reach for when it gets cold. Her boots are kind of doing all the legwork if you'll excuse the pun. I dunno! Maybe I'm just delulu, but yknow?

I also just wouldn't think it'd be Ada if her design didn't communicate some level of flair. RE 4, despite now having a more serious undertone compared to its original, I feel has always been the kind of silly and unrealistic game anyway compared to the others. I mean the Merchant throws a rave when you do well at target practice. You eat raw fish and eggs....? There were Ganados that wore Leon's jacket and Krauser's hat for some reason???? There's a request where you literally are just told to egg a portrait of Ramon Salazar. Ashley is secretly a scene/emo kid???? Me personally, I appreciate this design compared to the past of game design. Could it be better? Yeah, sure. But it's SOMETHING imo. I totally get that we want to go from point A to B, and that we shouldn't accept the bare minimum, but sometimes things also take baby steps. I've noticed the slow shift in other games as well. Mortal Kombat's female characters had people upset because they looked "too" practical and "not sexy enough." League of Legends has been slowly updating its designs (i.e. Janna and Nidalee in their recent Legends of Runeterra art) Aloy from Horizon Zero Dawn is designed to look like a realistic person. I dunno!

One thing I will agree on is the game's camera with the ass shots. I can only really remember one (that scene where Ada sees Ashley being taken by one of Salazar' bug guard) but yeah, that was unnecessary. I don't think they did entirely bad by Ada in my opinion because there were several scenes where this male gazey shot did not happen.

Anyway sorry that this ask is super long. I had a lotta thoughts lol.

Respectfully, I really disagree that her current outfit is "less appropriate than her original outfit." If you've ever worn a maxi dress, one can know how impractical the long length/can be unless you were to like, tie it to the side or whatever.

yeah i think i struggle a lot with trying to understand how her original outfit is more appropriate than her remake one. it's COLD, there was no reason for her to be in that type of dress. and the long skirt of the dress is also impractical as hell. i agree that the changing of her boots to a more flatter boot would make her outfit fairly appropriate. we're also kind of assuming that her tights are fairly well fitting since she's not constantly pulling them up lol

but yeah i agree that i think her outfit isn't overtly sexual. it's provocative sure?? the heels are mostly the thing that makes it not practical.

i think that there's a bit of an interesting push for more realistic depictions of women, and the horizon zero dawn reaction was insane to me, but entirely not unexpected. in another case, people were mad that ada's heels were removed in dead by daylight lol. EVEN THOUGH her flats were more practical, people wanted her heels anyways

i feel as though the shots that they used were also not so terrible in terms of male gaze-y. we also got ✨⛓the chain scene ⛓✨ for leon which was literally on the tiktok fyp for just horny video game scene that like SO MANY MEN JUST DID NOT GET.

but the singular ass shot of ada i think was, sure a bit much. but it wasn't so much that i was like, WOW THAT'S SO SEXUALIZING HER, cause i was also like oMGGGADA ADA ADA ADA ADA ADA so maybe im no better than a man lmao

but yeah! i mostly agree with you ty!

#ask heart #heart answers #anon #ada wong #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #re4r #separate ways #separate ways remake #albert wesker

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yomogi-mogi-mochi · 1 year

Text

Pygmalion (III)

Pairings: Rook/(Pygmalion) MC// Idia/MC (Platonic)

Summary: You were frequently told that your career as a renowned sculptor did not match your dull and less than colorful personality. With your cybernetic hands, you carve the lives and deaths of those long gone‒ producing pieces which have been held in both technical and emotional high regard, dubbing you with the title “Pygm.AI.lion” despite your human heart and brain. When you accidentally still the usually flamboyant archer into silence after he comes across you working in your atelier‒ you find that you’ve become a victim to one of his ceaseless stalkings. Though, you’ve been prey long enough to know how hunt the huntsman himself.

Notes: Sorry this took as long as it did lmao I was sleep deprived then I was in 2 separate 18 hour (what were supposed to be) naps lol. Ah the human body and its wonders.

Was revisiting Paradise Lost recently and I was like wait did I accidentally create Jesus and or Lucifer imagery????? Omg. I also posted a Lilia/Reader oneshot based on the myth of Dullahan (Beloved Thy Name) ao3 link is here / tumblr link.

A lot of philosophy stuff again because I am unfortunately an INTJ with a type 5w4 enneagram AND a Sagittarius (Rook, Idia, and I have the same sign lmao) so triple whammy I love intellectualizing everything. Another very very sweet ol slow burn but I swear romance is in the air

Enjoy! Comments, reblogs, and likes cherished as always (о´∀`о)

CW: Nothing much

AO3 Link Here.

Masterlist

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Here) // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

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Rook felt a bit feverish after that critique‒ his eyes swimming as they traced the image of your sculpture inside his mind, melting slowly into the painting of clarity he had been scrutinizing more of lately. Slowly, he gathered his camera and his picture‒ searching for the points you had brought up in your critique, before staggering to his locker in the art classroom, mindlessly sauntering into the hallways for his lunch period.

"You feel it, as it feels you." He couldn't help but to echo those words in your chest, with the clarity in your voice. That was what he had searched for more than anything‒ lucidity, precision, truth above all. And you had embodied its beauty in your sharp expression that gazed far beyond that clock, time, far far beyond anything‒ piercing those eyes through his picture, through his eyes with that arctic solidity. He felt so raw in your presence, even with the layers of fabricated kindness and dramatized passion that veiled his soul‒ protected it‒ you had managed to cut him open, seeing straight through his frantic, aimless fervor in an instant. It made him restless, he knew something inside him was urging with every fiber of its being, to chase and hunt it down‒ but that would mean bursting through, shattering the picture of clarity, of truth inside his mind that he loved dearly. No, it was something different than love, something greedy, the putrid scent of humanity.

He was so lost in thought, turning that clear picture in his mind over and over‒ seeing the blemishes that kept appearing with each interaction he encountered with you‒ that he smashed right into something solid.

"-You! Watch your‒ oh. Rook."

He tiredly gazed from the brim of his hat to see Vil’s face, twisted in slight concern. His lips quickly fashioned into a smile.

“Ah, roi de poison, apologies‒ I was lost in thought.” Vil continued to stare with narrowed eyes as Rook set down his lunch on the table, settling into his usual seat across from him.

"Did something happen today? This is…unlike you. It’s a bit unsettling." The dorm leader stabbed the colorful salad in front of him, bringing it to his lips. “If you need to retire early and skip the club meeting today, just tell me.”

“Non, non. Nothing to worry about kindest Vil. I was simply pondering how well the rehearsal was going to go today‒ are you not curious to how our cast will do on its first run through? I’ve been quivering with excitement to see the freshmen flourish!” With an excitable inflection cast onto his voice, Rook knew Vil would drop the question, sighing with feigned weariness, before engaging in friendly fire.

“There’s nothing to be excited about. It’s just some first year potatoes we have to whip into shape. Honestly, I’m getting tired thinking about it.” Vil said with that sigh Rook anticipated. The corner of his lips curled further, happy for moments of simplicity like this in the spiral of uncertainty you were pushing him into.

“That is what you have me for, roi de poison. And it’ll be fun to see the potential of these first years‒ I trust your instinct with these things.”

“Hm. It’s difficult to actualize the image I have in my head for them. These freshmen are too weak willed‒ but I’ll have to manage with what we’ve got.”

Rook hummed happily, glad that he could retreat into Le chasseur d’amour for just a while, carefully constructing his elation, and the smile on his face. Control, clarity‒ then truth came to him once more, shrouding him in an air of suffocating security.

—————————————————

You felt your joints whirring a bit from how swiftly you had been walking from the art studio to the cafeteria. These old knees, you thought, choosing a box of pomegranate juice from the vending machine, they’re not what they used to be.

“(Name)! Over here!”

Spotting a flaming blue head, raising his hand to beckon you over‒ you drifted towards the table consisting of mostly Heartslabyul students.

“Hello Ortho.” You scuffed the fire on his head, drinking the tart juice from the box in your hands. “Looks good, did Idia install a digestion program in you?” You towered over his lunch tray, glancing at the steaming vegetables and tender meat. You did miss eating once in a while, but you found it to be rather a chore than anything else, disturbing your work flow whenever your stomach growled during the period of your life when you still had a human digestion system. Besides, Dr.Krios had deemed it unnecessary, instead pouring his efforts into your Orpheus protocol and transferring your soul without the demerits of your magic.

“Yeah! Human food is as good as I remember. I can have big brother install one for you if you’d like?”

You shrugged. “No need, like I said, I’m getting too old for big repairs or updates like that.” The creaking in your knees still remained. “Are these your friends, little flame?”

The two young Heartslabyul students stared at the two of you in curiosity, listening in on your conversation. “Oh, (Name), this is Ace and Deuce. They’re the same first years as me‒ and Ace, Deuce, this is (Name), a transfer at our very own Ignihyde dorm!”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Ace Trappola, the smarter and more handsome of us two.” The redhead reached his hand towards you with a crooked grin, while the first year next to him sent a questionable glare. You shook it, the metal inside your skin rattling a bit when you did. “Whoa! Are you a robot or something like Ortho?? You were talking about updates n’ stuff and your arm is so heavy!”

You released the grip on your arm, feeling the weight of your own arm‒ was it that heavy from your human one? The increased strength allowed by the automation made it difficult to tell. “I am not a robot. A cyborg.”

“Ace‒ stop being so rude! Sorry about him, I’m Deuce, it’s nice to meet you.” You took the hand of the other student with blue-black hair, quietly seeing if you could feel the heaviness of your hand in his shake. He had a surprisingly strong grip and steady arm however, so it proved useless.

“Nice to meet you two. Thank you for taking care of Ortho.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relationship between the two of you? You seem like you knew each other before you even transferred‒ are you another Shroud sibling?” Ace asked with a fist under his chin in contemplation.

“Ah no‒“

“What’s this? Do I hear something about another Shroud sibling?” Another, taller redhead popped his head into your view, which you stared down in silence. “Wait‒ no way! Aren’t you Pygm.AI.lion? I follow you on Magicam!”

Ace snapped his fingers, pointing it at your face. “Ahh! I remember thanks to Carter now! I thought I’ve seen you somewhere!”

“…Magicam?” Must be another piece of modern technology you weren’t caught up with. So much was happening these days, you wanted to live your life simply without having to be caught up with every little thing on this planet.

“Huh? Yeah‒ see?” He shoved his phone in your face, scrolling through a page with the account name “Pygm.AI.lion”. You definitely don’t recognize this page, nor do you remember making a ‘“Magicam” account‒ so you suspected this was the doing of Jupiter Enterprises, another money hungry attempt, using you to gather the funds to pay for the research on your own body, to further blot research conducted by the desperate scientists at S.T.Y.X. You hoped Idia would take over too put an end to the ceaseless testing. “You should totally follow me back and be friends! Since we’re in the same grade and all~”

“Ah, I don’t actually own this account. Probably my manager or someone else at Jupiter Enterprises. But those are my works, and that is indeed me‒ I’m just not too acquainted with social media.” There were various pictures of you next to your sculptures, wearing the same dulled expression you always adorned during tiring galas and gallery events. Had you known they were taking pictures, you definitely would have deepened your frown just to spite them. But you figured with the tech they had been rapidly producing over the years, it wouldn’t be hard to implant a camera in corners you couldn’t see‒ just as small and precise as the ones implanted in your eyes.

“Oh that’s too bad. But we can still be friends, can’t we? I’m Carter Diamond, third year and official sweetheart of the Heartslabyul dorm!” Though he sung that sentence with a carefree lightness in his voice, you could feel his eyes shifting at your stony expression, searching for your response. Mood maker was right, you observed‒ the movement in his eyes reminded you of Rook a bit‒ except it seemed like he was using that wit to read the room rather than letting the hunger in his eyes consume him. You shook the thought of that feathered stalker from your mind, taking the hand Carter reached out to you.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m (Name), I just transferred.”

“Oh? Where did you transfer from RSA? I have a few friends there‒ maybe they know you?”

“Not from another school‒ a black carriage arrived at the S.T.Y.X lab one day, and I found myself here like the rest of the students. So I guess less of a transfer, but I’m not sure what else to call it.”

“Whoa S.T.Y.X? Aren’t they super secretive or something? Wait‒ S.T.Y.X is the one that made you then?”

“They did make my cybernetic enhancements. But I still have my human heart and brain, so depending on how you see it I suppose you could or couldn’t say they made me.”

“Wow I’m really getting the inside scoop here!” He laughed “They totally framed you as a robot‒ even in your Magicam profile! Oh‒“ He glanced at his phone. “I godda get going early to make up a test‒ I’m already on thin ice with Trein‒ nice to meet you Pygm.AI.lion!” Waving his hand, he dashed towards the double doors of the cafeteria.

You turned back to Ortho, taking the last sips of your Pomegranate juice. “That reminds me, Ortho. Are there any Art Clubs or Robotics Clubs here? Headmage said I had to join something by the end of the week.”

“Hm…I’m not finding either of those in the school’s database…But the science club is the “anything” club‒ you can join that! Or…” He tapped his chin. “Oh! You can come with me to the film studies club today! We’re actually in need of set designers and Vil would be grateful for a S-class sculptor like you, (Name)! And you can watch me perform today‒ it’s our first rehearsal!”

“Hm, that seems entertaining. It’s been centuries since I’ve seen a play in person. I look forward to your performance, Ortho.”

Ace and Deuce exchanged surprised looks, before the redhead spoke. “Uh..D-did we hear you correctly? Centuries..? How old are you exactly?”

Ah, right. The whole time thing. That thought left a distaste in your mouth, reminded of the clocks that had descended its image upon you today. All those around you were experiencing life at a different pace, all at different points in their path towards a blissful rest you would never know. The arms on your clock moved languidly, much too large to function “the correct way” that clocks ought to‒ in accordance to the beat of the human heart. Your body felt like that weary clock‒ much too tall, much too heavy for the way your heart would reach out to the pulse of other humans, and sink into the brilliant, cindering explosion that was a human’s lifespan. That blazing light you held at multiple points in your life was all too bright, too much, blistering against your brittle body that was weighed with eternity‒ so you took it into your hands, burning, imbuing it into hard marble. Even with your magic, that fire was too wonderful to be able to be ignited properly once more‒ dying out into a swift smoke when you craved that warmth again‒ leaving you cold, and dark. So you tried to let the turbulent waves of eternity wash over you, hoping it would eventually wear you down into nothing‒ a crude mimicry of a dazzling, human death.

“It..” You stopped, counting the centuries on your hands, but heaviness in your head made memories virtually irretrievable. “It’s been about six-hundred years, I think. I stopped counting a while ago, but I can give you a proper number with a history textbook. I was born exactly a hundred years before the City of Flowers was named.” You felt a little bad that you had stunned all those at the table to silence, quietly wishing Carter was here to pick up the mood.

“…You’re from the Shaftlands?” Deuce asked, breaking the awkward stillness.

You imagined your hometown, but you couldn't recall what it looked like, who your neighbors were, the smells, the dishes, the festivals. But your memory had not failed you when retrieving the memory of that night Dr.Krios found you, the smell of alcohol and bleach still stung your nose; the phantom sensation of broken marble embedded in your skin. After that night, there was nowhere for you to truly return to, reminisce with friends what flavors, smells, and experiences you tasted during your youth in that city‒ fuck. Your memory truly was failing you‒ you tried to remember your mother’s face, but all you could remember was a distant, muffled voice and nothing else. What did she look like‒ sound like again? What did you call her? Mama? Mother? Mom? You mentally shifted through multiple faces in your mind, aimlessly matching those words to them‒ but nothing. It almost brought you to tears, but you swallowed it with the tasteless, dryness in your mouth.

“I was, yes.” Was, everything always “was”. Nothing never “is” in the face of eternity.

You had been pushing it into a dark box inside your mind for a while‒ but you knew you would have to face this idea of eternity over and over again, like some Sisyphean bastard. It nestled in your heart as a part of it for a few centuries, growing as you attempted to replace the hole people would leave inside of it with anything‒ anger, apathy, madness, something you could grip and squeeze, searing your hand to preserve something of their fleeting existence. When their body and memories began to wilt however, so did that thing in your fist‒ allowing the hollowness of eternity to fester, eating away at the remnants of your heart. So for the last two centuries, you had retreated solely to the S.T.Y.X labs, severing almost any human connections to preserve the last fragments of yourself. But after six hundred years of repeated heartbreak‒ perhaps being alive was finally getting to you. You could feel the concerned gaze of the three first years, but your mind just drew complete darkness when searching for words to reassure them.

Suddenly, your mind suspended an image in your mind‒ a moment of clarity. You rolled the image in your mind, feeling out its shape with a delicate grip. You were surprised to reveal a picture of your own sculpture, however with the touches Rook made in his own photography. It was soft‒ like fresh laundry baking under the sun‒ green like a young spring sprout, pink like the color of a human heart. It mixed together in a muddled shade, swirling in a mess, a frenzy of colors. The humanity in that grotesque, fleshy shade made you look upwards again with clear eyes‒ reminded of your own sculpture from the first night he had made his way into your atelier. Rarely did you witness where the images in your head descended from‒ but you could clearly trace those words that came from him which parted the fog of your mind.

“Magnifique….With my human eyes, that is all I can see.”

You squeezed that image of his crystalline eyes, and muddy picture in your head‒ feeling every curve, tasting every color, delicately burning that picture inside your inhuman flesh‒ hoping no protocol would overwrite the wound it made. The breath you didn't realize you were holding came out in a slight cloud once you released from your tense stomach. Were you overheating? Gods, you felt feverish, though the metal of your skeleton still moved coolly inside your blot-packed tissue.

“(-me)? (Name)?” Ortho swung a hand in front of your face, eyes swimming with concern. “Are you okay? Lunch is over soon.”

You traced the engraving that picture made in your mind. “I’m alright. Thank you Ortho." A small smile graced your lips. You looked forward to the next image that would descend upon you, itching at the tender wound stored closely to remaining human flesh. Perhaps you could look at that divine inspiration through those striking viridian eyes before you let it possess you, but it was difficult to say if there was room for more humanity inside your rusting vessel. Still, the novelty excited you.

—————————————————

Ortho showed you around the parts of the school Rook hadn't had a chance to get to during your initial tour‒ giving you detailed explanations to each and every room before arriving at a door decorated with a white plastic plate, elegant black ink indicating it was reserved for the Film Studies Club. You swung the door open, allowing the younger Shroud brother to enter before you did.

“Ah, Monsieur Doll‒ oh! And Maître d’Ivoire, I didn’t know you were a fellow fan of the drama and beauty of theater! How wonderful‒ Vil will be thrilled.”

“Ortho suggested I join the stage set crew, but I’m only here to watch. I’m between the Science and the Film Research Club at the moment.”

“In that case I cannot possibly recommend only one! As a member of the Science Club it would be a joy for such an advanced cybernetic being like yourself to join our circle, however‒ as an assistant here at the Film Research Club, we could surely use your masterful skills in designing a truly spectacular set. Ah‒ I'm so torn‒ but the Science Club has so much potential for you, on the other hand ‒ “

“Rook! A word, please?”

“Ah‒ excuse me, mes amines, duty calls.”

You nodded mutely, unable to cram another word in the ceaseless string of sentences that flew out of his mouth. Bidding Ortho good luck with a pat on his head, you sat yourself in the auditorium, mumbling to yourself how you seemed to never be able to escape your feathered stalker.

"Alright‒ look bright first year potatoes‒ we've got a lot to work on! Rook! Where are those two third years that are supposed to be here for rehearsal today? I specifically asked him to come today for just a brief run through!" The inflection of his voice reminded you of an angry, chirping bird, one which Rook reflected with a mulled rumble.

"Désolé, Vil. It seems they're stuck in detention today…perhaps we can run the rehearsal without their parts?"

"No, no." The one you assumed was Vil shook his head. "These first years will be absolutely lost without the two leads for this scene‒ Rook, you'll stand in for Hyacinthus for this scene. And…" He threw his gaze right at you. "You. I don't know what you're doing lounging about‒ but be useful and play Apollo for today."

Briefly catching the smile quirked onto Rook's face, you sighed, pushing your body off of the seat, climbing the steps of the stage and taking the script pushed towards you from Vil's hands. You've never acted before, but it was like sculpting, right? Let life, let humanity, let death possess your cold body like a sublime ghost. Like your hands which carved that glory into glistening ivory, it was now your words which would shape a life out of the breath sucked into your lungs. You were quick to memorize the words on the page, embedding them in your throat as you took position by Vil's command.

"Lie, like this." He instructed. "Loosen your body Rook, lean against their body." Vil directed your bodies at the center of the stage, embracing each other under the dusty theater lights. Both you and Rook did as you were instructed, pressing warmth against warmth. You felt him squirm under your hardened fingertips that rested on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry if my cybernetics are uncomfortable. I could try to touch lighter, if you'd like."

His golden hair gleamed like ribbons in the light, swaying as he shook his head. "Non, you're quite soft." Despite being rocked by his deep breaths close to your own, those words felt distant‒ or perhaps a better word was "distancing", or something which attempted it. It didn't feel quite far, just muffled from your senses‒ still "soft" rang clearly in your mind like a bell, echoing the warmth it brought in your chest as many times as you allowed.

"You're comfortable, then?"

"Yes." His answer came like the wind, a quiet whisper, grazing lightly against your ears. You began, words at your throat bubbling, when Vil commanded action onto the scene. You let the image in your mind possess you.

"Your hair never quite lies flat, here." You touched the smoothed sheen of Rook's hair, plucking a golden strand out and feeling its silk between your fingers. "I don't think I've ever told you how I like it."

Rook pulled the script closer to his face. "You haven't."

“I should have." You let the strand go, seeing it fall gently into the bright curtain crowning his head. Its glow reminded you of gilded gold, glowing porcelain shining through from its age. "What about this? Have I told you what I think of this, just here." Reciting the script with your body, you tipped his head back, drifting your hands at the base of his throat, feeling the pulsing beat which echoed in its hollowness.

"No." He turned his body towards you, taking one slow step back to kneel below you. Sliding his script into another hand, he kept his gaze on it, before slinking his other hand into your gloves. The metal creaked inside your skin, and you thought to cringe at its harsh sound. But the tenderness of which he muffled that metallic squeal with his palms, wrapped lightly over your gloves, stopped you from hardening your face. "And have I spoken about this?" He lifts your hand above his eyes, you follow it, hoping to catch a glimpse of green pointed towards you. "Your hands calloused, from the divine poetry you pluck from your golden lyre." A pause. "Surely I haven't forgotten‒ tell me I did not, Apollo."

"You did not, my muse." You went to cup your hands around his, like the script instructed, but you found the paper to be in your hands‒ in the way. Without a second thought, you threw it out of your hands, somewhere out of your line of sight, its spine cracking harshly against the wooden theater floors. The words were engraved in your mind already. "And what of this‒ Hyacinthus‒ have I spoken of it?" You rested a knee to the ground like him, separating each of his fingers with your own.

“No.” His answer comes even quieter this time. You don't worry if his voice carries to others as it should during any rehearsal. The mountain in his throat bobbed, the muscles near his jaw shivering.

"There is this too." You reached a cold hand towards his face‒ still the anxiety of your harsh body instilled in your mind. The skin round your metal bones, to the organs sitting, packed in your torso were all made with the violence of human desire. You searched his eyes for that same hunger, again, but you found nothing this time. The space you held, hesitant, above the pink of his face softened into a solid touch. "I know I have told you of this."

He sucked in a shallow breath you could feel under the pulse of your palm. "Tell me again."

For a moment, you felt that divine image withdraw from you. It was petrifying‒ there was no instance in the six hundred years you had lived where that holy possession left you empty before you could carve it into the hardness of reality. But when you found yourself warmed not by its fleeting light, but the one that beamed from the flush of Rook's cheek‒ you let go of that chill, drinking in the heat that throbbed under your fingertips. Still as marble, you let yourself sink into the green of his eyes, this time, which were pointed directly at your whole with what could only be described as adoration.

"-Cut!" The brightness of the entire stage lighting up once more brought you back to reality. You shrunk your creaking hand from him, cringing at the scraping sound it made under your skin. "Zephyr‒ didn’t I just tell you that it was your cue right there?? You should already be on set by 'Tell me again'. Mark that on your paper so you don't forget, again.."

You chilled your face by feeling the metal under your skin, draining yourself of the remaining pieces of that image, that heat‒ moving smoothly before you reached a hand to Rook, still on the ground with the script in his hands. He looked up at you, seeing the shadow you created, staring blankly for a minute before shaking it off in favor of his usual fox-like grin. Even in the harsh darkness, you saw that shimmer pooling in his eyes.

"Merci, mon ami."

You stared mutely, watching him take your hand, the tip of his middle finger drew softly across your bare pulse, revealed by the pull of your glove by his grip. On instinct, you pulled away while he pulled in to lift his body off the ground‒ the tendons in your arms stretching, stretching, stretching until you felt them snap beside the metal bone. Anything but your hands‒ the curse which ineptly attempted to infuse your eternity into still flesh‒ much too quick‒ gone, gone, gone, you remembered.

Rook jerked backwards while the base of your arm tore into two‒ your body falling towards him to catch him with your other arm, stabilized with your light-fast knee lunging to him. Your in-tact hand easily caught his back, while you stared, wildly, into his widened eyes. Raising him to an upwards posture with a controlled straightening of your leg, you brought him back up to the soles of his feet‒ letting go as soon as he was balanced on top of them. You felt many eyes on you once more, concentrated at your shoulder where you uniform ripped, revealing the blot that bubbled from silvery metal under your ruptured skin.

Vil turned his head towards, you his stiff body following it. “You‒“

“I know.” That answer came sharply. You inhuman brute, immortal beast, machine‒ I know, I know. In the centuries you had lived, the eyes and whispers of many never bothered you much‒ but when you felt Rook graze against your cursed hands which spearheaded your parting with human flesh, after you two had held flesh against, what you thought was your flesh once more‒ it plunged you back into that hollow body, too large, too tall for your human heart. You felt words scorch your throat.

Play the part‒ let it possess you‒ empty the cup, fill it with an image not your own.

“I’ll be fine.” You raised a hand to cover the hideous healing of your arm, spurting and gushing with viscous black ink to forge your body back to its original form. It felt cold, writhing and twitching in the air‒ a heartless mockery of warm blood which fluttered delicately under human flesh‒ one you felt on Rook’s face just a few fleeting moments ago.

You saw Ortho appear from the curtains, floating towards you, examining your arm with worry. “(Name)- are you okay?? I think you should get that checked! Brother can take a look at it‒ just in case?” He pleaded.

Shifting your head downwards to examine the blot, you made the mistake of sweeping your eyes across Rook’s‒ his lips parted slightly, eyes widened into a crystalline solidity your wavering eyes did not possess. Too bright‒ burning. It welled a tightness in your throat.

Clenching your teeth, you answered Ortho. “I think I’ll do that. Excuse me.” Your legs leapt off the stairs of the stage, body swallowed by the darkness of the auditorium, back warmed by the light that radiated off of the stage. You heard Vil clap his hands, before the murmurs of first year students began once more as you slipped out of the room. Your body moved automatically, bringing toward the courtyard, where the shed was situated. Slumping your shoulder against it, you forced your way in, stumbling onto the wooden floors. Looking around, gliding your bleary eyes across the statues‒ you recognized no one.

Who’s memories did you hold? Who’s sadness was this‒ who’s hurt? Wounds felt too large, too feverish, too alive to feel like it belonged to your cold metal body. Who’s heart was this? Take it out, take it out. Your hands, your body, your life had been one filled with that action‒ stripped of anything you embraced. But just this once, you begged the sky where divine images descended from, to take just this one thing‒ everything, if you must‒ away from you. But it was fogged from your ragged, white breaths‒ and even without it, you weren’t sure if the gods above would gift you that clarity, the hope of a human‒ for, surely, you did not recognize humanity within you anymore. You tried to remember your own face from six hundred centuries ago, one which held the liveliness, the hunger, and the grotesque flush of a human’s. But no images descended upon you, so you shook that hollowness in your metal hand, hoping to crush it into a solid form with the pressure. No tears were shed, for such pleasures were only reserved for those of animal flesh. But you wept, voice rising from your chest, becoming foreign and uncanny when they reached the throat.

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Notes:

Rook’s character kind of reminds me of Oba Yozo from No Longer Human by Dazai Osamu‒ I think one of his biggest fears is someone seeing through the mask of his character because behind it, there’s fear, anxiety, an emptiness which he seeks to fill with even just the fabrication of passion (in that way he also reminds me of Confession of a Mask by Mishima). For him, I think he’s paralyzed with choice, so he kind of overplays his character of “hunter of love” to cover up the quiet anxiety he feels about all the possibilities that are stretched out before him. But in some ways that becomes security, truth, clarity for him to the extent that the straight forward/intuitive manner in which you speak and create kind of muddles that picture of clarity for him. So theres a reality in that "hunter of love" character but its also very fragile because it was originally meant to be a stand in for something more concrete. I saw a post on tumblr with a concept drawing for his character that said “表情がウソくさい“、meaning his expressions seem “made up”/played up, so I was like ah yes, I’m absolutely going to read too much into this. And now here we are lmao

Is mood maker a phrase in English?? Lol i don’t remember lmk if its wrong

When Mitski said “Yet Now I find I’ve grown into a tall child” I felt that‒ lesbian Jesus strikes again Mitski seems to find way into my writing every time but she’s also a hyperfixation of mine

Greece actually fell like 2100 years ago around 146 BC BUT i figured with the help of magic technology/culture would move more rapidly?? So I shrunk it down to like 600 years

The play part is pulled directly from Song of Achilles lol (except I changed it to Hyacinthus and Apollo), I knew if I were to write a bit in the play I'd get waaaay into it and the chapter would take forever so, you win some you lose some I guess

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