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writtenbymoonflower · 4 months

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Dinner

You have a panic attack and your boys comfort you. poly!maruaders x fem!reader

cw: panic attack, negative self talk, swearing, mention of raw chicken (ew ik)

1.7k words (it's long i'm sorry)

You never thought you would cry over chicken, but here you were. You knew that you had been having a lot of busy days as of late, there were a million things swimming about in your head. But you were managing it well, or at least you thought you were. But then it all came down.

You had bought a pack of chicken earlier in the week to cook for dinner one night. It had been on clearance so you knew it was on its way out, but you thought you would’ve had more time. You opened your fridge so you could begin cooking before your boyfriends were going to get too hungry, when you realized that the meat was out of date by a whole three days. It was something so small, yet, it sent a billion anxious thoughts jumping around your head like they were on pogo sticks, and most of them were not very nice.

How could you be so stupid? You should’ve checked the date. If you hadn't been so lazy earlier this week you wouldn’t be wasting this food. Now there was nothing to cook and your boyfriends would go hungry. They would likely end up resenting you for being a shit girlfriend and being so-

“Dolly? What are you doing over there?” Usually Sirius’ voice was a comfort to you, but right now it just added to your misery. It reminded you of all your failures and why you would never be good enough for anyone.

Tears started filling your eyes. You tried to still your shaking hands and even your breathing, but it was all too much. They were going to realize your mistake and were going to be angry. His footsteps were painful and your other boyfriends’ laughter in the other room made you wince. When Sirius finally was facing you, your attempt at a facade fell apart. He knew you too well and apparently your body just decided to give over to panic because you suddenly couldn’t catch your breath. You tried to mutter out an apology but your voice was caught in your throat and your pulse was hammering.

“ Hey.” Sirius’ dark brows scrunched in concern, his gray eyes searching your face and scanning your body for any injury. “What’s wrong?” His voice was raised in panic as you stood and shook.

Apparently Sirius’ voice triggered your other two boyfriends to barrel into the room, but you refused to look at any of them, opting to hold the chicken package behind your back and stare at the ground. James thought you looked like a small child standing in front of a broken glass, ready to be reprimanded and punished. It made his heart ache.

“Baby,” Sirius continued to beg for a response. “What’s happened? You’re scaring me.” Remus placed a soothing hand on his partner’s back while James scooted past the both of them to grab your shoulders and stoop to see your face.

“Hey, hey, hey. Sweetheart, can you look at me?” James spoke softly. He was just as concerned as the other two, but James was better at keeping his head, even though inside he wanted to sob seeing you like this. You swallowed thickly and looked up at him.

“There you go.” Remus whispered encouragement from behind James. Your chest was still heaving and you were still crying, but now they could read your face better.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” You choked out, hoping that if you spoke about your failure early enough they might forgive your mistake.

“Hey, not right now. Just focus on me, honey. I think you’re having a panic attack, I need you to try and steady your breathing.” James motioned the other two over, Remus getting behind you and pulling you both to the ground so he could rock you in his lap. Sirius and James sat and each took one of your hands, James putting the one he was holding on his chest, while Sirius put the other on yours. (After throwing the chicken on the counter, opting to ask questions after you could speak again.) You stifled another sob from wracking your body.

“We’ve got you, sweet girl. Just copy Prongs’ breaths, yeah?” Sirius used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet the eyes of the two boys in front of you. You could feel James’ chest rising and falling as he took deep, exaggerated breaths. Your first few were shaky and clumsy, but soon you were finally able to get a comfortable amount of air in your lungs and your tears slowed to a stop. You still felt guilty, but at least now your head wasn’t so loud. You pulled your hands back into your lap.

“There you go,” Remus soothed from behind you. “Atta girl.” He pressed gentle kisses all over the side of your neck. You could see the two boys in front of you visibly relax at your now calmer state. “Good girl, you did so well. I know that was scary.” Remus turned so you were sitting sideways in his lap and you could see all three of the boys sitting around you.

“ Thank you for helping.” You said sheepishly, looking down at your fidgeting hands. “I’m sorry I did that, I know it was a lot.”

“None of that.” Sirius said firmly. “It’s not your fault, baby. You didn’t do it to be bad, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Wrong. You thought to yourself, remembering the spoiled food now sitting on the counter.

“Can you tell us what happened, lovely?” James ducked his gaze to meet yours, his brown eyes were sad and confused and swimming with all too much love.

You really didn’t want to admit your mistake, but they deserved an explanation for your erratic behavior.

“It’s really nothing that bad.” You tried to console, as if you weren’t the one shaking on the floor not two minutes ago. “I was just-” You swallowed hard again. “I was being stupid.” You went back to picking at your nails. Your self-deprecating comment made Remus raise an eyebrow and Sirius lightly pinch your thigh.

“You weren’t. You’re never stupid, be nice.” Remus (lovingly) scolded.

“I was just, I bought this chicken.” You struggled to keep your breathing even. “I bought this chicken earlier this week and I was going to cook it, but I was too lazy these last few days and I fucked up and I-” You bit hard on your lip to keep from crying again. James desperately wanted to reprimand you for your self-cruelty, but he settled for grabbing Sirius’ hand and squeezing, not wanting to cut you off.

“Go on, sweetheart. Take your time.” James spoke even softer.

“I let the chicken go bad. I wanted to cook tonight but when I went to grab the chicken it was bad and I just- I just felt bad because I can’t do anything right. I had all week to make it and now I can’t cook for you all and I just- I just feel bad.” You took another deep breath, still not wanting to meet their eyes.

“Oh, my baby.” Sirius lunged forward, wrapping you in his arms before you could even process what was happening. Remus huffed grumpily over you being stolen from his lap, but let it go. “That’s what you were all worked up about? That’s why you were all scared?” You nodded, your face still stuck in the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay,” James soothed, now smoothing a gentle path up and down your back. “That happens to everyone, sweetheart. It’s not something you need to be mad at yourself for. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you weren’t lazy. You’ve been busy and tired. It just happens.” James thought he could cry, his girl was so hard on herself that she was all panicked over something like this.

“Exactly.” Remus said. “It’s nothing we can’t fix, dove. We can go to the store tomorrow and you can make it then.” You started to protest, wanting to go tonight but you were quickly cut off. “Tomorrow.” Remus was firm, but no less kind. “You aren’t doing any work tonight. You need to rest. We’ll figure something out for dinner, it’s no trouble.”

You were going to argue but you figured it was a losing battle.

“Thought you would be mad at me.You should be mad at me. I fucked u-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before James squawked, Sirius sputtered, and Remus inhaled sharply. Sirius forced your head out of his neck to look at you.

“What?!” He looked genuinely offended.

“Lovely,” James was the one who formed a full sentence. “We would never be mad at you for something like this. Never.” He grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “Look at us, sweet girl. No ones mad at you. We care about you, not a pack of chicken. It’s not worth you being this mean to yourself, nothing is.” He pouted during the last sentence.

“Also,” Sirius said, still being very gentle. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t just about chicken, dollface. You’ve been really stressed lately.”

“And you’ve been really hard on yourself. You always have been, but it’s gotten worse.” Remus’ voice sounding sad. You knew he was right though.

“I know.” You sighed, dejectedly. “I’ll try to be better.” You gave them all a tight-lipped smile.

“That’s what we mean!” James whined. “You don’t need to ‘be better.’ You just need to be gentle with yourself.”

“It’s just hard.” You admitted.

“I know it is, baby.” Sirius empathized. Then his face morphed into his usual grin. “How about, we all lead by example. I know I can be very nice to you.” He took your cheeks in both his hands and started pressing kisses all over your face. You giggled wetly, trying to squirm out of his grasp. “There, like that. Nice.”

“I don’t know how she is gonna do that, Pads. It’s hard to kiss your own face.” Remus attempted (and failed) to keep the amused tilt out of his voice.

“Oh no!” James dramatically gasped. “I guess we’ll just have to.” He beamed, taking your jaw in his hand to smear even more kisses on your cheeks.

#marauders #marauders fanfiction #drabble #fluff #james potter #marauders fandom #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #this is my first poly!m fic #i will get better i promise

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thankskenpenders · 1 month

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The Knuckles show

The announcement of a live action Knuckles streaming miniseries was surprising, to say the least. I mean, what would such a show even be about in a version of the Sonic universe with no Angel Island and barely any characters from the games around? Is he gonna go treasure hunting with the gang from Montana or something? Would a streaming miniseries have the CGI budget to squeeze in any new game characters, even briefly? Rouge? Amy? At least one member of Team Chaotix? Anyone?

Now the show is finally out, and it turns out what they actually made was a comedy show about bumbling deputy sheriff Wade Whipple, the minor comic relief character played by Adam Pally who you might not even remember all that well from the first two movies, with Knuckles as his sidekick. While, yes, Knuckles does get a decent amount of screentime and opportunities to punch bad guys and do cool moves from the games, large stretches of this show focus on Wade's personal life, to the point that a couple times I almost forgot I was watching a Sonic-related show. If you're judging it purely by the metric of how well it adapts and engages with its source material, this surely must be one of the worst adaptations the Sonic franchise has ever seen.

So then, despite some huge complaints... why do I kinda like it?

(This will contain full spoilers for the Knuckles show.)

A brief summary of what the show is actually about because I know half of you aren't going to watch it

The show picks up not too long after the end of the second movie. Knuckles is now living in Montana with Sonic, Tails, and the Wachowskis out of a sense of debt to them, though he doesn't really see it as his home. He doesn't feel like he belongs on Earth, and his life currently lacks direction. After communing with the ghost of Pachacamac, though, Knuckles is instructed to keep his culture alive by teaching "the ways of the echidna warrior" to a new apprentice: deputy sheriff Wade Whipple, who's currently more concerned about winning a bowling tournament in Reno than anything else.

Things are complicated by the interference of two rogue GUN agents - Agent Willoughby, played by Ellie Taylor in a bad wig, and Agent Mason, played by Kid Cudi. (Yes, the artist behind the second movie's credits song is one of the bad guys in this.) They want to steal Knuckles' power and sell it to a former associate of Robotnik's played by Rory McCann (The Hound from Game of Thrones), who now works as a black market arms dealer. Yes, they're still doing the thing where Sonic and friends' quills radiate some kind of super-energy that the bad guys all want. No, I don't particularly love this element of the Paramount Sonic continuity. Anyway, they go after Knuckles and Wade, complicating their straightforward road trip to Reno. Antics ensue.

The Wade show

So here's the thing. While the first episode focuses largely on Knuckles, the entire rest of the show is very much the story of Wade, and by extension the other original human characters invented for this miniseries.

Episode 2 is about Wade having to rescue Knuckles from captivity after the GUN agents get him. Knuckles spends most of the episode in a cage.

Episode 3 is about introducing Wade's Jewish family, including his slightly overbearing mother and weird sister, so that Knuckles can learn about their family traditions and have Shabbat dinner with them (and then save them from bounty hunters that the GUN agents hired).

Episode 4 only features Knuckles at the very beginning and very end of the episode, probably for less than a minute total. Wade is captured by a bounty hunter he personally knows, and Knuckles decides to let that be a trial for Wade to overcome on his own.

The last two episodes feature the climactic showdowns with the GUN agents and their arms-dealing ally, who comes in with a mech for the obligatory final boss fight. You'd think this would be Knuckles' time to shine, but really, these episodes are mostly about the bowling tournament in Reno where Wade encounters his estranged father, wrapping up his own personal arc. While Knuckles does get some fights, a lot of the finale is spent on lengthy bowling scenes where Knuckles isn't in the room or even mentioned. It frequently feels more like a spiritual successor to '00s sports comedy movies like Dodgeball, Talladega Nights, or Blades of Glory than it does a part of the Sonic franchise, and the presence of ESPN 8: The Ocho commentary in the finale only drives those Dodgeball comparisons home. They get so immersed in the bowling stuff that it's genuinely hilarious when the show suddenly pivots and remembers "oh shit we still need to do the final boss fight"

Throughout all this, Wade is the protagonist. He's the character we spend more time with, he's the character who drives most of the major events, he's the character who gets more of an arc. The emotional core is Wade's journey. Knuckles is still present - sometimes, at least - but he's there as Wade's wingman, and also just as the excuse for there to be some fight scenes.

How much Sonic stuff is actually in this show?

Honestly? Not much.

Sonic and Tails are only in the first episode. Sonic gets some good scenes, but Tails gets a grand total of five lines. I counted. Unsurprisingly, Jim Carrey is absent as Robotnik, though he does get mentioned a fair bit. (For that matter, basically the entire established human cast beyond Wade is absent, even including Tom, though Maddie is there in episode one.)

GUN is involved in the story, which helps it feel slightly more connected to Sonic, but it kind of feels like it's GUN in name only. They don't use any recognizable GUN tech, and they don't call in the military. It's just two agents in suits. They might as well be the Men in Black.

The Master Emerald is mentioned as something Knuckles has to guard, but it's never seen. Angel Island is pictured as a drawing during the show's intro, appearing exactly how it does in Sonic 3, but it's never referenced at all beyond that.

I guess the climax taking place in and around a Reno casino is a reference to Sonic's many casino-themed levels. That's something. I'll give them that.

Oh, and if you're wondering if this is the point where we finally start to get actual music from the games: no, it's not. The soundtrack consists of a lot of '80s needle drops, many of which are generic Hollywood picks like "Holding Out for a Hero" for the billionth time, thought it at least has some slightly less obvious picks than the Mario movie. The theme song is '80s rock song "The Warrior" by Scandal. You'll hear it many times. You'll hear the Adventure era Knuckles raps zero times in this. You'll briefly hear classic A Tribe Called Quest song "Can I Kick It?" before Knuckles takes the question too literally and breaks the radio in Wade's car.

Beyond a handful of surface level references for nerds (one of which is admittedly wild - we'll get to that), this is probably the least an officially licensed adaptation of Sonic the Hedgehog has ever tried to actually engage with its source material. I struggle to think of another Sonic adaptation that has less to do with Sonic. For as much shit as I and countless others have given Penders for seemingly ignoring the content of the games in favor of building his own convoluted mythos, his Knuckles comics honestly included way more elements from the games than this show does.

Somehow, the one new(-ish) Sonic character introduced in this is the ghost of Pachacamac of all characters. Not even Tikal! Pachacamac! A very minor character nobody has particularly strong feelings about! You can't even use the excuse that they already had the character model, because they completely redesigned him compared to his cameo in the first movie to better match his Sonic Adventure design. And he's voiced by Christopher Lloyd! Honestly, so many of his lines are strained that it sounds like he's on death's door here, but then he'll surprise you with a more casual line like "just do it, man" and it catches me so off guard that I can't help but laugh.

Pachacamac here has basically nothing to do with the game character he takes his name and appearance from. Where the game character was a cruel warlord who kicked off a 3000 year cycle of violence, Paramount Pachacamac is now just this chill old man who gives Knuckles (and later Wade) advice in two episodes of the show. Hell, he also feels completely disconnected from his established role in the movies, where he's literally the guy who shot Longclaw. The show will not grapple with this contradiction at all. He's just here to be a thing fans like me will recognize from the games. Again, if that's all they wanted, it's kind of baffling that they didn't just use Tikal.

I don't love Knuckles in this

But what about Knuckles himself? Well, he doesn't feel all that much like Knuckles to me. Ironically, he sometimes feels like one of the weaker elements in his own show.

Back when the second movie came out, I noted that Knuckles' characterization seemed to be pulling heavily from MCU Thor as a gallant warrior from an archaic alien culture who doesn't really understand modern day Earth stuff. That worked for me in that movie. It was just there for spice. Just a little extra flavor for the character in what was otherwise a very faithful adaptation of Knuckles' storyline in Sonic 3 & Knuckles. Without those familiar elements grounding him and with a much higher reliance on comedy, Idris Elba's Knuckles becomes a pretty one-note character in this.

In damn near every scene with Knuckles, he's going to say something about being a proud, honorable echidna warrior, or brag about his glorious feats of strength, or be confused about some Earth thing and call it sorcery, or act like every other character is also a member of some noble warrior clan. He still has his moments for sure, but this schtick kinda gets old fast, and it just doesn't feel like Knuckles to me. His entire character feels derived from the scene in the diner where Thor smashes the cup on the ground and goes "Another!" Sure, I can picture game Knuckles smashing a radio to turn it off and being a little too gung-ho about busting holes through walls. That's Knuckles behavior. But building a barbarian combat pit in the living room so the Wachowski family dog can fight the mailman? Nope. That's some other guy now. It really does just feel like them taking a broad character archetype from something popular that kinda sorta fits Knuckles and just running with that, rather than trying to actually adapt the character.

Oh, but don't worry, he wears the OVA hat for like two minutes! AND he loves grapes! See, Sonic nerds? We read the wiki! That's his favorite food! Grapes! This is gonna come up like five times!

Knuckles kind of gets an arc here, but not as much as Wade does. I think the stuff about him starting to feel at home on Earth thanks to Wade's mom and the way he connects with their Jewish family traditions is oddly sweet. This arc is kind of let down, though, by the fact that Knuckles' heritage is treated as a complete joke. He's a cartoonish pastiche of various historical warrior cultures stuck together in a blender and used mostly for comedic effect. When Pachacamac's ghost appears, he's reading a newspaper and bemoaning the fact that the Mets lost again. This is not the place for a serious examination of Knuckles' feelings on being the last of his kind.

This is far from the only time the show undercuts itself with its jokes and attempts at self-parody. In the first episode, for instance, Knuckles clashes with GUN Agent Mason and his tech-enhanced punches, leading to an extremely on-the-nose inversion of the "Do I look like I need your power?" scene showcased in the trailer for the second movie. Except this time, Agent Willoughby butts in and points out how stupid that line is in this new context, since they're literally trying to steal Knuckles' power. The fight can't just be cool, they have to get cute with it. A lot of stuff like that happens in this show.

Given all these complaints, the first two episodes left me thinking I'd be fairly negative on this show overall. This seemed like the version of the show from the fandom's collective nightmares, one that undoes all of the progress the movie series seemed to have been making towards faithfulness to the games. Like, just look at these cast posters. Is this what you want out of Sonic? Do these excite you?

But then, something strange happened. Over time, I just kind of let the jokes and shenanigans wash over me and basked in how fucking weird this show is.

And I started to actually enjoy it.

Look. The Wade & Knuckles Show was never going to be peak Sonic. But that sure as hell doesn't mean it can't be entertaining.

This show is so fucking goofy

Here's the thing.

The show is funny.

Unlike a lot of other people, I didn't hate all the wedding stuff in Hawaii in Sonic 2, because I thought a lot of it was funny, both in its actual jokes and in the ways in which they tied everything back to Sonic. Tom looking wistfully at some bodybuilders doing Top Gun shit and spraying each other with beer and being like "I wish Sonic had that" is weirdly funny. The twist that those muscle bros are all agents of the newly formed GUN, who orchestrated the wedding as an elaborate scheme to catch Sonic, is funny. Mr. Olive Garden becoming the fucking GUN Commander is VERY funny. Are any of these elements of my dream Sonic movie? No, of course not. But my dream Sonic movie was never gonna happen in live action.

The Knuckles show follows up on the comedy of the previous films by being probably the funniest live action Sonic release yet. Did every joke land for me? God no. There are some stinkers in there that made me roll my eyes. But enough of them landed that it worked out for me overall. A big part of this is the fact that they've got a good cast of actors and/or comedians here.

Adam Pally is funny as Wade, and I found myself liking him more and more as a character as the show went on. He becomes an oddly endearing loser, with some sweet moments in his personal arc that made me feel for the guy. I like Wade more than Tom now, thanks to this show. I will now be happier to see Wade in Sonic 3 than I would have been previously.

The supporting cast is frequently great, too, many of whom are playing completely cartoonish, over-the-top characters. They took a cue from how exaggerated Carrey's performance was as Robotnik and decided to just abandon all pretense that this is the real world. Stockard Channing as Wade's mom is funny, and carries some of the more sincere parts of the show. Cary Elwes as Wade's very British dad who abandoned him as a child to run off and be the world's most egotistical professional bowler is funny. Edi Patterson as Wade's sister Wanda is... well, she's kinda trying too hard, but she has her moments. The Mighty Boosh co-creator Julian Barratt(!!) as a scenery-chewing bounty hunter, who was also somehow Wade's former best friend and bowling partner, is VERY funny. I love this guy.

(Honestly, they should let more people who were on Garth Marenghi's Darkplace be in Sonic stuff. Where's Matt Berry)

This is kind of a stacked cast for a bunch of stupid side characters in a live action Knuckles show! And honestly, that just makes it funnier to me. Even when they're not funny, the fact that this exists makes it funny. They somehow convinced Paramount to give them a bunch of money to make a spiritual successor to Dodgeball about a schlubby guy who wants to beat his dad at a bowling tournament... except also Knuckles the fucking Echidna is there as his personal life coach. My life is richer for the fact that I can say that sentence. I think about all the little kids who are probably watching this show this weekend, going in expecting a show about Knuckles the Echidna and having to sit through extensive bowling scenes and lore about Wade's family, and sorry kids, but I just have to laugh. Wade isn't even on the poster! The poster is just a picture of Knuckles!! They punked those kids!!!

In a franchise where every single aspect is so carefully micromanaged these days, it feels truly special to get an adaptation this bonkers. It frequently appeals to the same part of me that enjoys the fact that there's an officially licensed Knuckles comic in which Charmy Bee's best friend (also a bee) dies of an accidental LSD overdose from a drug-laced chili dog. Or like, everything about the original 1993 Super Mario Bros. movie. Or the fact that they made seven direct-to-DVD sequels to Alpha and Omega, one of which is half a retread of the adventure from the first movie (with more annoying supporting characters in tow this time) and half a literal clip show of the first movie. The sheer absurdity of the fact that these things exist is charming to me. Except, with the Knuckles show, it has the added benefit of frequently being funny on purpose! This is why I'm not sure I'd call it "so bad it's good." Like, it's not amazing, but there were a lot of parts that I enjoyed in the exact way I was supposed to enjoy them.

Look. Here's a list of real lines of dialogue from the Sega-approved Knuckles the Echidna streaming show that they're billing as a pillar of the Paramount+ lineup, to drive this point home. Let these marinate for a minute:

"I only eat grapes, and Cool Ranch Doritos™."

"Annihilate this little girl, Wade. Crush her spirit. Humiliate her so badly her parents won't even look at her again." "Doesn't that seem like we're going a bit far?" "Not far enough."

"So is he Jewish?" "Half, I think."

"I had a friend who when he listened to Alien Ant Farm he could lift a Toyota Corolla over his head."

"I'm in dire financial straits. Due to my lawsuit against an unnamed rainforest-themed restaurant franchise, I don't have two pennies to my name."

"We're here in sunny Reno, Nevada, which is so close to Hell you can smell the sparks."

"You can't threaten me with your Jewish karate chops because I am a federal agent."

"I will say, regardless of how you feel about child abandonment - and I'm against it! - the deals at TJ Maxx can't be beat."

This is a Sonic show in which they got Paul Scheer and Rob Huebel to appear as ESPN 8: The Ocho commentators.

This is a show where Wade's mom insists upon pronouncing "Knuckles" with the throaty Hebrew "ch" sound, and declares that Knuckles is basically Jewish. Later, they watch Pretty Woman together while enjoying a nice slice of key lime pie. Knuckles comments: "I don't understand. This young streetwalker with a heart made of gold, why do the others treat her with such disdain? Is it so wrong to walk the streets?"

This is a show where the fourth episode is directed by one of the guys from The Lonely Island and features a hallucinatory low budget rock opera stage musical put on by the ghost of Pachacamac. It recounts Knuckles' life story, with Wade playing Knuckles and the "evil" Longclaw played by the bounty hunter guy who's played by the Mighty Boosh guy.

Look at this.

And also, Knuckles' singing voice is provided by Michael Bolton, which they proudly announce in the middle of the musical.

And also...

Also...???

IBLIS IS IN IT????????????

Yes, Iblis!

From Sonic '06!!

Knuckles is said to have looked for a mythical power called the "Flames of Disaster" to avenge his clan, which ended up being the power that was within him all along that lets him do fire punches yadda yadda yadda. As part of this, he apparently fought Iblis off-screen at some point, as conveyed with the giant singing papier-mâché Iblis in the musical.

...Then Iblis sings about hitting up Facebook Marketplace

How? How does any of this exist? Why reference '06 of all games? How did Iblis get into the live action Sonic movie universe before Amy and Metal Sonic? Why are they using Iblis and the term "Flames of Disaster" in such a goofy way that completely disregards their original context?

I don't know. I don't know how any of this happened. But I love it. We got a Knuckles miniseries in which Michael Bolton sings the phrase "the Flames of Disaster." The world is a beautiful place sometimes.

Some people will tell you to skip episode four. "Knuckles is barely even in it," they say. "It's dumb and pointless," they say. "They clearly just ran out of special effects budget," they say. These are people whose opinions you should disregard. The episode with the least Knuckles in it is somehow the most entertaining episode of the show. I would, in fact, go as far as to say that if you only decide to watch one episode of the Knuckles show to see what goofy bullshit they get up to, it should be this one.

I cannot be mad at this show. It's so dumb, but it completely owns the fact that it's a dumb and unnecessary spinoff. Inferiority is baked into its very DNA. It's very self-consciously redoing the premise of the first movie, but stupider. It's about The Other Cop from the movies, instead of the competent one. Instead of being into a "cooler" sport, his life revolves around professional bowling. Instead of going to Vegas, he goes to Reno. Even his tragic backstory that shaped his entire life sucks. He was abandoned by his pro bowler dad in a TJ Maxx. Not even a nicer department store. A fucking TJ Maxx. This whole show is a Dril tweet.

They put a ton of effort into making it dumb in an occasionally spectacular way. So much effort was put into that joke rock opera that fans will just write off as stupid filler. They put their whole pussies into it. This is not a poorly made show. This has better production values than half the shit made for Disney+. This was made with love. Maybe not as much love for the Sonic the Hedgehog series of video games as we'd like, but it's love nonetheless.

Maybe this show broke me and these are the ramblings of a madwoman. Maybe I'm just really nostalgic for the '90s and '00s comedy movies all the Wade stuff is modeled after. Maybe the Alan Wake fan in me just really loves it when a story pivots to a silly rock opera for no real reason. I won't discount any of these possibilities. This isn't high art. This isn't something I would recommend to anyone with zero interest in Sonic, and it also isn't going to sway Sonic fans who hate the Paramount universe. I really can't blame them for being bewildered by this show. But for a specific type of person, this is the absurd three-star Sonic-adjacent comedy miniseries of your dreams. It's a mid masterpiece.

Again, I just have to step back, realize the fact that this shouldn't exist, and smile. Sega's too afraid to do stupid bullshit with the franchise like this these days. And I can't blame them, after years of Sonic being a treated as a laughingstock. But part of me misses some of the goofy shit. No matter how much I tore some of the Archie comics apart as I was reading them for this blog, I just look back on stuff like Cal and Al or the Many Hands issues and laugh. And that same part of me looks at this show about Knuckles being the sidekick to this fucking guy, and just goes...

"We're so back."

In conclusion, I genuinely think this was a more enjoyable TV show than Sonic Prime.

I wouldn't go back and rewatch Sonic Prime anytime soon, aside from maybe, like, a couple of the Shadow-heavy episodes. Huge stretches of that show bored me to tears. The writers squandered all of that show's potential. But I would rewatch the Knuckles show, which takes a terrible premise and has a lot of fun with it, in a heartbeat. Even the bowling parts. The bowling scenes in the Knuckles show are more engaging than 70% of the fights in Sonic Prime. I am not trolling. I mean that sincerely, with all my heart. Don't @ me.

Stray observations

There is effectively zero meaningful setup for the third movie in this, unless Wade's family or the two GUN agents come back or something. Project Shadow is not mentioned in this. There is no secret post-credits scene with Gerald

The CGI in this is pretty good. Not quite on par with the movies, but pretty good. Sonic's weird forehead wrinkles are distracting in his scenes though. Please fix that

I wouldn't say I liked this as much as the second movie, which obviously gets a ton of points for, you know. The Cool Sonic Shit. But I had more fun with it than the first movie, which I still feel is a painfully generic family movie that was only saved by Tyson's redesign

"Grapes are an interesting choice for someone who doesn't use his individual fingers."

Agent Willoughby was apparently the one at GUN who had to buy the Olive Garden gift cards and set up the fake wedding. Her origin story is that she hated doing shit like that and wanted to go fight aliens

This miniseries contains another Keanu namedrop because Wade's childhood bedroom has a Speed poster on the wall. I swear, if Sonic doesn't say Shadow sounds just like Keanu...

Knuckles is familiar with Paul Blart Mall Cop

Near the end the ESPN 8: The Ocho commentators say that the 1974 Reno bowling championship was also interrupted by an extraterrestrial, and given that was exactly 50 years ago I can't write off the possibility that that was Shadow. Please for the love of god give us a sequel series after the third movie where Wade takes Shadow the Hedgehog bowling. I need this more than I need air

#tkp post #other media

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saekkas · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄

summary: you've been pulling all-nighters and michael kaiser isn't happy about that. good thing he has a trick to lure you into bed with him.

w.c: 1.6k

notes: don't be fooled by the pictures. the only kitty cat in this fic is kaiser <3

the digital clock by your side is silent, no ticking to announce the seconds that are trickling by so quickly. time is slipping through your fingers like sand, and you can only watch, pushing past the grainy texture.

everything is starting to feel like a bubble, wrapped in a haze of focus. the sound of blowing AC is minimal, no more hustle of honking cars, and the world is quiet as your eyes sting from the tablet light, drooping in exhaustion.

all is well. at least, until that bubble breaks.

"how are you still sitting there even after all these hours?"

kaiser pads into the living room, shirtless with only some sweats hung low on his waist. every single one of his steps are confident, as if he's set out on a mission he's determined to complete. he fans himself with a hand, walking over to where you're seated on the living room couch. "are you a zombie? or has my angel finally turned into a mummy?"

there are dark circles under your eyes, generated by the hours upon hours of work you've been putting in. every movement feels sluggish; the tablet in your hand feels heavy, as if something's tugging you and your body to lie down on the comfortable cushioned furniture. lack of sleep and too much caffeine, probably.

you can see the way he's eyeing you, a borderline mix of anger, annoyance, and sleepiness wrapped into a person that is him. you don't know whether to be threatened or intrigued by it.

"come here, baby. let's get you to bed, okay?" kaiser leans in close to you, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "i can't let you work yourself down to the bone. you've got me, remember? my card's for you to use."

his movements are too gentle, too smooth and the way he's smiling so sweetly at you, batting his eyes, makes you wonder what he has planned. when you feel the telltale signs of his fingers around your hand, you glare, pressing the tablet to your chest. kaiser's always been a smooth predator, he knows how to get what he wants.

"you look like a feral raccoon," he laughs, sitting right beside you on the couch. "i have a thing for pandas. not trash pandas."

this time, he leans in to press himself into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist as he all but curls into your frame. his shoulders slump and he sighs, happily nuzzling his face into your skin. "you smell lovely, liebling."

"mikka," you sigh as he starts to leave gentle kisses on your skin. he's nothing if not trouble but you won't lie to yourself, his presence always brings comfort even if he does end up distracting you from your work most of the time. "shouldn't you be asleep?"

the digital clock on the desk looks back at you, the gleaming red numbers clear. 12:03 AM. you frown, placing your hand on the crook of his neck, playing with the hair that's found its place there.

"aren't you tired?" his body relaxes, curling more around your frame like a cat does with its mother. you can only chuckle when he tries tugging the tablet out of your hands. "what's gotten into you?"

for one, your lover never goes to bed past 10 PM. it's part of the routine you both have. whenever he's home, you follow his routine down to the t. it starts with breakfast at 8 AM, lunch at 1 PM, dinner at 6 PM, and cuddles sprinkled throughout. then you let him drag you to sleep by 9 PM, snuggling against each other like it's the first time you've both shared a bed.

the pout he's sporting tells you he isn't happy that it didn't happen tonight.

"mikka, go to bed. i'll be with you in just a sec." the words are nothing but a lie and you both know it. if it weren't, he'd be happily drooling with his hands around you in bed by now.

kaiser snorts, his pout turning into a frown. he's displeased and it shows in the way that he's started to tug your tablet harder, determined to get you into bed with him. you can feel him shake against your neck, and you tilt your head, surprised when he leans back with a victorious smile and your tablet in his hand.

"mikka." the threat in your voice is clear as you raise your hand, asking him for the tablet back nicely. "i need that back. give it to me, please."

"you know i can't do that." the pout he shows you is absolutely sweet; one you've seen him use dozens of times to get his way. one you have yet found a way to refuse. "i can't sleep while my fiancée works."

there it is. there's that word again. fiancée. another trick he's been using to get his way. "right, fiancée?" he repeats, tucking his hands under your legs and back to lift you into his arms.

"besides, i'm more important than whatever your working on. after all, i'm your fiancé." he nuzzles his face into yours as he walks, playfully biting your nose with a giggle.

you can only glare when he grins at your flustered expression.

"shuddup. you're so annoying." kaiser smells oddly sweet, a mixture of scents that don't usually linger on him, and as you lean your forehead against his collarbone, he's quick to place you on the bed, hurriedly pinning you under him right after. "mikka!"

"let me see." his tone is a mixture of laughter and whines, and his eyes sparkle brightly, similar to the diamond studded ring that now sits on your finger. he holds your wrists, dragging them away to reveal your face, flushed and all. "there's my pretty."

there's a silence that comes after, one that he fills with a loving gaze and a haughty smirk. he leans down, pressing himself against you, and nuzzles into your neck with his hands wrapped tightly around your waist.

he clearly has a thing for your neck.

the press of his body on yours is heavy but it's something you're used to. kaiser is someone who thrives with physical contact and combined with the summer heat, he's been a menace. he insists on latching onto you like a koala every single day. not that you mind. especially not when he's shirtless like he is now.

"aren't you hot?" you mumble, trailing a finger down his back. you watch as he shivers at the action, goosebumps rising on his skin. "we might both experience heat stroke if we keep cuddling like this."

"yes, i am hot." comes his answer which you snort at. he grins at the sound, lifting his head to look into your eyes. "don't act all coy. i know you love it when my tattoo's on show."

your eyes dart down to his arm at his words, taking in the thorny roses that slither up the skin. they're stark, inky black against his pale arm. you follow their path up to his neck, marveling the rose on his skin that perfectly matches his hair and eyes.

"see," he teases smugly, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips. "you can't resist me."

you blink at that, looking at him with wide eyes.

"what?" a grin makes its way onto his lips as kaiser places his head on your belly, kissing you through your pajamas. "something you wanna ask?"

something is different about him. not in the way he looks, not in the way he behaves but in the way he smells. your eyes narrow before widening in realization. "you're wearing lip gloss?" you prop yourself on your elbows, using a hand to pull him up. "lemme taste."

kaiser grins, smug as he lets you maneuver him all you want. with every peck that's placed on his lips, his grin grows bigger and bigger until he looks like a chesire cat.

"is that why you smell different?" you mumble, tilting your head to press against his lips harder. he responds in kind, wrapping his hands around your waist tighter as if you're going to disappear if he doesn't. "what flavor is that? cherry?"

when he finally lets you pull away, your lips are red and swollen, playfully bitten by the man in front of you. his gaze stays on them, smiling smugly as he nods.

"yeah. after all, i'm the one that gets to pop your-"

there's a groan that comes when you push him off. you giggle, hovering above him from the bed. sprawled on the floor, your big bad fiancé looks nothing like his fierce persona on the field. if anything, he looks like a startled starfish. "that's what you get for being so annoying."

there's a glint in his eye that has you backing up on the bed. seconds later, he's back on his feet, tackling you into the pillows. the sound of laughter fills the room and as you pant, hovering above him, you cradle his face in your hand. your future, your world, your everything.

"i can't wait to marry you," you whisper, one hand trailing hearts on the rose that sits on his neck. "i can't believe you roped me into this."

"i guess i'm just that charming." he laughs, pulling your body down until you're straddling his lap. his hands are gentle as they trail down your thighs in return, squeezing the fat around your hips. "i can't wait either. especially for-"

"one more word and i'm banishing you to the couch."

"will you be on the couch with me? because if you will-"

"mikka."

"yes ma'am."

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser imagines #kaiser x reader #kaiser imagines #michael kaiser fluff #michael kaiser x y/n #michael kaiser x you #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk x female reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock headcanons #kaiser fluff

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goosita · 6 months

Text

young!politician!snow enjoys making you squirm, knowing how easy it is to get reactions out of you

it’s so easy for him to throw you off balance, to surprise you at every turn. ever since the night he drove you home, with his hand resting so warm and heavy on your thigh, you’ve barely been able to focus at work. every time your mind starts to wander, it ends up settling and fixating on the same thing; him.

you wonder if he can sense it, if he can feel your eyes trailing over every inch of him when he breezes out of his office for another coffee break. your gaze lingers on his broad shoulders when his back is turned, or on his pretty profile when he’s looking the other way. you try not to let it be obvious, politely averting your eyes when he spins to face you again or return to his office.

it’s been several days since the night you let him drop you off at your apartment, and coriolanus takes up about 98% of your thoughts. he’s on his third cup of black coffee for the day when he pauses and turns to face you, speaking up.

“do you have plans for this evening, miss y/n?” he asks, smiling kindly at you. you’re not sure what to say, caught off guard by his question.

“nothing other than melting into my couch with a book, sir,” you answer honestly. your heart kicks up in pace at his question, wondering why he’d want to know.

“well, you do now.”

you blink and furrow your brows, looking at him unsure. you can tell he’s a little frazzled today, hair slightly out of place from running his hand through it several times. he takes a long sip of his coffee and sighs.

“i have to go to a gala tonight, something they only just told me now at the last minute,” he explains, looking down into his cup. “of course, i’ll need a date.”

you stare at him, not sure if the world is playing some sick joke on you or not. coriolanus lifts his eyes and stares right back at you, waiting for you to say something.

“…..me?”

it comes out as a pathetic squeak, but he doesn’t point it out. he simply nods, icy gazs still boring into you while you scramble for an answer.

“uhm. y-yeah, yeah okay,” you stutter, feeling small under his stare. he gives you an easy smile then, his whole demeanor seemingly going more lax.

“excellent. finish whatever you’re working on and log off for the day, we have time find you a dress.”

dress shopping with coriolanus snow is something you never thought would ever happen, yet here you are. he had slid you into your coat at the door after you’d logged off your computer, whisking you down to his car which he again drove himself. as you’d opened your mouth to say you didn’t really have money for a new dress, he’d cut you off easily, telling you that if he was the one to drag you to this gala, the least he could do was pay for your outfit.

now, you stood in front of a wall of mirrors in a green silk gown that hugged your body in all of the right ways. it fell to the floor, but bared your shoulders and arms. coriolanus walked in a slow circle around you, scanning every inch of your body carefully. he stopped then and nodded at one of the fitting room attendants, who brought him a black velvet box. inside, a white diamond necklace sat with a single, small pendant. a snowflake.

you tried as hard as you could not to shiver when coriolanus stepped behind you, carefully moving your hair to clasp the necklace around your throat. you could feel his breath on the back of your neck and you kept your eyes down, almost afraid to catch his gaze in the mirror.

“beautiful,” he whispered, so soft that you were certain that you were the only person who heard it. his fingertips slowly trailed down your spine and it was impossible not to shudder.

“look at yourself,” he said quietly, reaching around to your front, lifting your chin. you looked over your reflection, tilting your head to the side. he was right; the dress was absolutely stunning, the pendant resting on your sternum sparkly but understated, tasteful.

“its lovely, coryo,” you said, finally meeting his eyes in the mirror. his plush lips stretched into a dazzling smile, clearly pleased at your use of his nickname.

“yes, you are.”

you didn’t notice as the fitting room attendants all exited, leaving you alone with coriolanus in the secluded dressing room. his hand traveled down from your chin to your shoulder, fingertips brushing down your arm before taking your own hand in his. he smiled again and led you over to a seat, gesturing for you to sit.

coriolanus grabbed a box and lifted it open, revealing a pair of silver heels that looked more expensive than a year’s worth of your rent. and then, he did something you would never imagine.

coriolanus snow kneeled before you.

you stopped yourself from inhaling sharply at the surprise, at the image of who everyone knew to be the eventual future president of Panem, dropping to his knees at your feet. he carefully lifted the hem of your dress, just enough to wrap a hand around your ankle and place your foot in his lap. then, he picked up one shoe and slit it on, taking extra care to clasp the strap around your ankle. his eyes lifted to yours, gazing up at you almost reverently as he stroked over the bone on the inside of your ankle. he held your stare for a long moment before repeating the action on your other foot.

“coriola—“

he cut you off as he rose to his feet again, taking your hand and pulling you up.

“do they fit alright?” he asked, breaking the intimate bubble he had created a moment ago. you nodded, swallowing hard.

“yes,” you breathed, searching his eyes curiously. what was he playing at here? what was he thinking?

“perfect. i suspect it’ll be a lovely evening, hm?”

#politician!coryo x secretary!reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut

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guiltyreverie · 6 months

Note

Hiya

Saw that you were looking for some request to help get you out of your block (I hate when that happens) so I was wondering if we could get a Zoro x F/GN reader with the prompt "Holding your hand under the guise of not getting lost in a crowd" The swordsman isn't as touchy as Luffy but I think he'd find a way to get that physical touch.

Thanks 🌴

Hey anon, thanks dear for the request 🫶🏻 I love this idea!! It has me all 🤭 giggling and kicking my feet. Also I hope you’re satisifed with this 🤍

Crappy Love Confessions

Pairing: Zoro x gn!reader

Tags: grumpy x sunshine, established relationship, Zoro thinks he’s being slick but you got him all figured out, slight insecurity/jealousy

Warnings: none, just fluff

Writing prompt: “Holding your hand under the guise of not getting lost in a crowd”

Summary: You arrive in a new town and you end up exploring it with your boyfriend by your side

A/N: I mostly wrote this in the middle of my lectures - I hope the person behind me had a blast reading this 😭 and ngl as much as I love grumpy men, they’re lowkey so hard to write (BUT I WELCOME THE CHALLENGE)

Word count: 1.5k

Loud chatter, salesmen shouting and advertising their products filled the air, the smell of various restaurants, children running about - the tunes of a new city filled your senses and you stare around in awe; almost every time it‘s the same deal and every single time you‘re still amazed by this feeling.

Luffy‘s hand met your back and finally pushed you off the boat. “Come on, y/n.“, he was drooling and you looked at him in amusement, “I smell meat!“ - he was already gone - a chuckle escaped your lips at the antics of your captain.

“Cutie-chan“, Sanji gasped dramatically and he grabbed your hands to check if you‘re alright, “are you-„

Zoro‘s grumble interrupted him and the both of them are about to butt heads again; you‘re ready to intervene and prevent the town from getting destroyed by these two but Nami was faster.

“Don‘t you guys have things to do.“, she pointedly stared at Sanji, since he was the one that needed supplies and ingredients for the next few weeks.

Sanji is about to make a flirty remark but stops himself when he sees Nami‘s glare, she pushes him off the deck and Zoro towards your direction, then proceeds to hum around about ‚not having too much fun‘ and your cheeks flush slightly; nonetheless you grin at her and shout back “no promises.“

Zoro looks at you, or well, more like scowls at you and if you didn‘t know any better you‘d think he was mad at you.

Your head tilts slightly to the right - inaudibly asking what‘s wrong.

“It‘s nothing“, he tenses up, and you can see something is bothering him in his eyes - now you could go about this in two ways, either you pester him and force him to tell you or you respect his boundaries and let it be.

You figured he‘d eventually tell you himself once he‘s comfortable enough and let it go, instead you focus on the rumbling town in front of you and smile and start walking, you knew Zoro would follow you either way so you don‘t bother calling out to him.

The both of you check out the shops, while you grab some utilities you also check out the snack vendors, all while Zoro is right behind you following every footstep and holding your bags for you on one arm and the other empty for, probably any worst case scenario he can imagine.

When you see a sword shop out of the corner of your eyes, you smile and turn towards him: “Do you want to check it out?“

He glances at you, then at the shop, he seems to contemplate it, overthink it even; you let out a sigh and step towards the shop: “Come on“, you nudge him, “it‘s at least worth checking out.“ and nudge him into the shop.

You stand beside him, observing him fondly while he checks everything out in deep concentration and gets anything he needs; when you’re ready to check out and leave the store you notice a small dagger - perfect to replace the one that broke recently.

You test out its feeling around your grip and its secureness and smile to yourself in satisfaction - you’ll get this one.

What you fail to notice is your boyfriend staring at you in admiration - for someone so kind you were deadly when threatened - in fact it’s the reason he was so drawn to you in the first place. All you needed was two little daggers and no one stood a chance against you, your bubbly self would disappear and it would almost seem like you had been replaced with the best assassin to walk the earth.

When you glance back at him satisfied with your choice, your breath halts for a moment; the way Zoro was looking at you right now? It almost made your face flush in embarrassment, his eyes were filled with endearment, admiration and something else you can’t pinpoint right now - he always had a hard time vocalizing his feelings for you but he didn’t have to, you always knew how much he cared for you without saying anything.

You clear your throat in an attempt to dissipate the butterflies in your stomach and smile at him: “You got everything?”

He keeps staring at you mesmerized: “yeah, i got everything I need.”, your face flushes slightly and the butterflies you tried to dissipate earlier come back, he didn’t mean just his sword supplies - not with the way he was staring at you.

“Alright.”, you nod and make your way to the cash register and pay up.

Zoro is already outside, leaning against the wall, while waiting for you, when you get out he promptly gets up and walks beside you, he seems to contemplate something, you were about to ask if there’s anything else he wants to check out when grasps your hand. Your face flushes when his large calloused hand wraps around your smaller softer one and you grin brightly - the warmth inside you only growing bigger and bigger.

He looks away, his voice slightly hoarser than before: “I can’t risk getting lost.”, you raise an eyebrow in amusement, his blushing ears clearly betraying his actual thoughts.

“Sure.”, you smirk clearly unconvinced by his reasoning.

Now the both of you walk together, your hands intertwined and you hum happily looking for your next destination.

The both of you walk around more until it’s late in the evening; your feet hurt from walking around all day and you decide to finally go back to the ship.

“Zoro”, you pout, the sting getting worse and worse.

He sighs slightly then proceeds to let go of your hand before he kneels down in front of you: “Hop on.”

The warm feeling in your chest, once again, consumes you - god you love him - you get on his back and wrap your arms around him while he grabs the back of your thighs and picks you up.

Fondly you kiss his cheek: “Thanks, dear.”

He ‘hmphs’ slightly and grumbles: “you’re too light, do you even eat?”

“Y’know I always finish Sanji’s food”, you grin, “you just lift abnormal weights.”

He tenses up slightly when you mention Sanji: “Don’t mention his name.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Sanji and him always fight but he usually didn’t react this badly at his name being mentioned; finally, it clicks in your head and you manage to connect the dots.

“Is this about this morning?”, you lean your head on his.

“I don’t like when he’s being close to you.”, he sighs.

You smile and hold him tighter: “I don’t care for him, in the same way I care for you. No amount of flirting from his side can change that.”

“It’s not that. I trust you, it’s just..”, he seems to gather his thoughts, trying to put them into words and you let him - he needs to realize just how important it is to let you in. His jaw tenses up and he clearly seems uncomfortable being vulnerable, even if it’s you he's talking to. “It just makes me think that I can never be as vocal as him; He doesn’t mind crappy love confessions or public affection.”

It takes you a few seconds to even process his words - was he insecure?

“Zoro”, you motion for him to let you go and you quickly step up before him, grasping his face, “I don’t want crappy love confessions or public affection or anything else, I want you.”

“Ok but what if me being me isn’t good enough at one point and you want to do better - you certainly can, if you want to.”, he looks at you, the uncertainty finally clear in his eyes and it pains you, leaves you wondering for how long he had been harboring such thoughts.

“No, fuck that, I don’t want better, because there is no better.”, you bite your lips slightly, “ for me? You’re the best pick, Zoro. I love you, the way you are and I want nothing more than for you to keep being yourself and it’s not going to change any time soon. You hear me?”, you hold his face once again and genuinely look at him, he needs to believe you, trust that you won’t leave him.

“I’m just being stupid, aren’t I?”, he smiles at you a little stunned.

You smile and shake your head: “No, not stupid. Human.”

He raises an eyebrow slightly at your choice of words but accepts it nonetheless. He kisses your forehead earnestly and once again kneels for you to get on his back.

You grin and hop on, hugging him tightly.

He clears his throat: “I love you, too, by the way.”, your grin brightens - and he says he isn’t the type for crappy love confessions.

Together you guys walk through the bustling town back to the ship, the warm sunset fitting the atmosphere inside your chest.

#x reader #fanfiction #one piece x reader #one piece #oneshot #writing prompt #zoro x reader #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x yn #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x y/n #op #op x reader #guiltyreverie

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tripleyeeet · 9 months

Text

A FOOLISH LOVER'S OFFERING (10)

SUMMARY: On the way to Moonrise you and Astarion talk about some important things.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,060

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Act 2 (henceforth there will be spoilers in all chapters here on out), ANGST, mentions of murder.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi this chapter single handedly took every brain cell I had to write so hopefully you like it because I just want to set it on fire for all the grief it has caused me!!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

“Gods, I hate this place.”

Gripping your torch, you try your best to focus on the Harper’s. How they move through the shadows, navigating every twist and turn without issue, leading you through the pathways.

It hasn’t been long since you’ve started your journey. No longer can you see the shining veil of the Inn but, given what you know, you’re well aware that your destination isn’t nearly ahead either. There’s still plenty of walking to do. A few hour's journey at the least. Perhaps more if Astarion insists on continuing to walk so slowly.

At your side, his eyes scan the trees with a heavy breath, taking in the decrepit scenery at such a leisurely pace that it makes you huff and glance around, noting the distance between you and the others. At this point, you’re close enough that you can still see them but too far to hear what any of them are saying —something you’re certain Astarion’s done on purpose when he plants his arm around your shoulder.

“You know, I happen to find it quite charming. All the dread and despair. It’s a bit like being at home.”

You give him a look, raising your brow only to receive a snort in response, confirming that he’s (thankfully) kidding. “Ha, you think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“Funny?” He moves his other hand to his chest, placing it against his leathers. “Darling, I’m hilarious.”

“Yes, yes, a real jester.”

His fingers flex around your shoulder, squeezing. “I’ll have you know I’ve always been funny. Even before all this vampiric bullshit.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, a slight thought flashing across his face that makes you wonder what he’s thinking about. Given the circumstances, you assume it’s a thought of the past. Perhaps of his life before Cazador’s reign. When he was merely an elf roaming topside around Baldur’s Gate without a care in the world. You imagine he was funny back then. Mischievous. Probably a little too out there, even for a magistrate considering the personality you’ve grown to love. Based on pure assumption, he probably had more fun in one night than you in a lifetime, spending his hard-earning coin on good food and drinks and—

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” He pulls you tighter into him, using his free hand to pluck the torch out of your hand so that you can wrap yourself around him. As you do, both of you breathe a sigh of what feels like relief, even though you’re currently experiencing anything but.

“Sorry.”

“Well, you were staring at me, so I suppose I can forgive.”

“Many thanks, my liege.”

He growls suggestively under his breath, making you scoff. “My liege, hm, I could get behind that.”

“Of course you could.”

“My liege,” he repeats, tasting it on his tongue, eyeing you with a lusty gaze that doesn’t quite make its mark.

Which only furthers the assumption that he’s deep inside his head still. Sifting through thoughts you’re completely unaware of as you walk in tandem to your potential untimely end. Almost immediately, it makes you wonder if maybe this is the right time to start asking questions. To finally speak up about the inquiries that have filed through your skull. Because after this, there’s no telling where you may find yourselves. You could be killed or locked away —lost to an abyss of some kind.

The options are endless; however, time is not, so instead of stewing in the silence you currently find yourselves in, you look up at him, taking in the shape of his face.

You’ve known him long enough now to know that the comments he often makes about his beauty are true. In appearance, he’s almost otherworldly. A beacon of well-aged flesh your eyes feel constantly drawn to. Whenever he’s around there’s this feeling of awe that comes forth. A subtle beating in your chest that quickens each time he’s present. When you look at him —really look at him— your eyes tend to open a little wider, surprised by how every feature seems to fit so perfectly in place. How everything feels uncharacteristically cohesive given his time spent abused beneath the moon, forced to stave and serve for all eternity.

If it weren’t for the issue of Cazador you’d be convinced he was blessed by the Gods themselves. Melded by their very hands to create a being of such high temptation and desire. You imagine them brainstorming his existence. Tirelessly spending weeks on end crafting the perfect specimen that would ultimately end up broken.

You realize then, taking in the lines that have developed throughout countless bouts of false grinning, that the very thing he loves most about himself was more than likely the result of his own downfall.

A downfall you find you’re still curious about. Even after your conversation, Astarion’s life before all this still holds an air of mystery. Between details already revealed, there are still patches of missing information. Sections of time where assumptions feel wrong but asking feels just as bad. And because of that, deep down, you know you should leave the curiosity alone. Pack it into the back of your mind for later use, but with the oncoming war and no determined outcome, you instead loosen your hold and take a side step.

“Can I ask you something?”

He narrows his eyes, readjusting his position now that you’re not locked against him, suddenly looking awkward as he puffs out his chest. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not the question is going to be depressing,” he replies. “Because you have that look in your eye.”

“What look?”

He reaches out to poke your forehead, pressing it roughly. “The one where your brows look like they’re going to become one at a moment’s notice.”

Swatting his hand away, you twitch your brows back into their proper positioning, annoyed. “I was going to ask about Cazador,” you tell him, truthfully. “I know he’s probably not a topic you want to discuss as we waltz to our potential doom but —I don’t know— I just have questions.”

He sighs deeply, drawing out his breath before giving you an unimpressed look that speaks volumes.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. Nor do you, but at the same time, you’re at the point where you’re unable to deny your interest because Astarion’s your friend. A companion you cherish more than you know you should. A person whose well-being is so important you’d virtually do anything to maintain it. Which is why you’re determined to pry a bit more than usual. Taking these final moments you have to yourself to ask the one question you’ve been wondering for ages.

“What will you do about him? When this is all over.”

Surprisingly, there’s no hesitation in his words when he tells you he’ll kill him. As you continue along the path, listening to him come up with all the vile ways he’d do it, you find yourself strangely calm. Numb almost to the descriptions of stakes being driven into hearts or knives slicing through jugular veins. Lost in the way he throws your torch around with every passing phrase.

“Personally, I think a stake to the heart’s a bit cheap,” you eventually comment, watching him laugh. Hearing the way the sound quickly flutters out and hits your ears, making you smile despite the subject matter.

“It’s a classic for a reason, my dear.”

“Is it though? I mean, in my experience there’s far better ways to kill someone.”

“Is there, now? Do tell.”

You’re not sure if it’s just because you’ve grown used to the excessive violence throughout your journey or because Astarion’s tendencies have potentially rubbed off on you. Either way, as the two of you joke of his master’s demise you find yourself wondering if maybe such a result is even plausible. Sure, you’ve never killed a vampire. Hell, before Astarion you’re not even sure you’ve seen one up close, but for him, you’d be willing to try. Especially given the ever-growing lack of regard for your own safety.

“Honestly, the only thing that’s coming to mind is cutting him open and doing something to his innards.”

His brows shoot up in surprise, making you laugh. “Mm, a cold-blooded killer after my own heart.”

You roll your eyes, prompting his hand to subtly grip your own. Tangling your fingers together, he raises your palm carefully up to his lips and places a lingering kiss. One that tickles your flesh long after he’s gone, leaving you grinning like a fool, wondering if this is what love feels like.

You imagine it is. Deep beneath the surface, your chest is tight but not with fear. Instead, there’s only warmth that spreads —a growing sensation of heat that wraps around your lungs and heart. Filling you with this discomforting ache that only he can alleviate. So much so that it makes you want to scream sometimes, knowing he’s the cause. That somehow through his charms and tricks he’s managed to find a home inside your chest without permission. How he’s sliced you open with that wicked grin and crawled inside, calling you darling all the while.

It makes you wonder if he feels the same. If all the afflictions he’s given you are returned in some capacity. If when you look at him his mouth goes dry or his heart skips a beat. Or the longing to be near is indeed reciprocated and not just another plot to keep you close.

Because sometimes it’s hard to tell.

Throughout your journey, you’ve gone back and forth a hundred times, debating the possibilities —weighing the pros and cons of every interaction that you’ve ever had. Even now, knowing such trivial thoughts should be the last thing on your mind, you can’t help but wonder: does he care for you? Truly? Does he think of you? Does he look for you? Within his everyday thoughts does your presence linger in the background, waiting for the right moment to be put on full display for him to admire?

Does he love you?

“You know, if you ever need help with the whole murdering Cazador thing…”

It sounds ridiculous when you say it. So nonchalant and unfazed. Even you have to cringe at the way you trail off, waiting for him to speak. Praying that he’ll laugh or scoff or say literally anything to fill the silence you find yourselves walking through.

It takes him a while but eventually, you hear him quietly sigh, his gaze moving to view your nervous face. “It won’t be easy, you know. Cazador isn’t some vagabond with a blade, he’s—“

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

He says it like a warning. As if he’s preparing to scold you for speaking out of term, narrowing his eyes with a huff. “Darling, I appreciate the enthusiasm but Cazador —he’s different. He’s not like the villains we’ve faced thus far. He isn’t motivated by greed or lust. The only thing he wants is power. Power over me —over you.”

He pauses then, swallowing hard. Making it apparent then that this hypothetical conversation of murderous jokes has turned into something far more real. That your offering is no longer a mere gesture of kindness but instead a potential act of solidarity. One that you extend further by running your thumb along his, applying a bit of pressure at the joint, feeling him twitch.

“You know there’s very little I wouldn’t do for you, right?”

In an instant his eyes are on you, staring in surprise, trying to process the words that’ve just spilled through your lips. At first, they’re focused on their position, fully immersed in the way you clear your throat, trying to suppress a nervous laugh as you continue to grip his hand. Not long after though, they start to go distant, moving past your face to view the trees behind you, fizzling out of reality so quick that all you can do is try to pull him back.

“I know you probably think I’m in idiot for even suggesting that fact that I may be capable of killing someone who spent centuries in control of so many people—“

“A bit, yes.”

You snort, watching him slowly start to return to you, his lips curling into a half smile you can’t help but reach out and touch, stopping your stride. “But I would do anything you asked of me. Even if it meant death, I would kill that bastard for you without hesitation. Whatever way you wanted, whether it’s decapitation or throwing him off a bloody cliff or—“

The light of the torch shifts as his hand slips out of yours, taking hold of your head to guide you to his lips. To press his mouth to yours with such need that the breath within your lungs is ripped out. Swallowed behind his starving tongue —lapping whatever life you have to offer as his hand drifts over your cheek, taking hold of your flesh to keep you from leaving.

Standing still, you can feel the tenseness of his frame as it all happens. How aside from his mouth and hand the rest of him refuses to move, prompting you to reach out, running your hands along his sides, coaxing him to relax.

When his body does, you slowly pull away, sucking in air like your life depends on it, watching with half-lidded eyes and swollen lips as he opens his mouth to speak, stuttering out something incoherent before swearing under his breath.

Narrowing your eyes further, you watch him struggle to speak, wondering what could be going on in that complicated brain of his as he turns his body, releasing you from his grasp in favour of moving forward again.

Immediately, it makes you drop your jaw in annoyance, watching his hands move towards his hair, gripping his locks in frustration as you hear him mutter to himself and continue to move, leaving you behind.

“Hold on, you’re just going to kiss me like that and walk away?”

He doesn’t even turn to acknowledge you as you yell, making you even angrier as you race toward him, placing a rough hand against his shoulder to gain his attention.

“Astarion—“

“Do you mean it?”

Your mouth twitches when he turns, looking at you with angry eyes. Scanning you with knitted brows filled with so much frustration all you can do is breathe and nod.

“Why?”

Because I love you.

“Because…”

“Tell me.”

Your mouth is drier than it’s ever been, making it hard for you to form the words as you feel your tongue poke out to wet your lips. “I—“

His shoulder shifts from your grasp in one quick motion, leaving you bare —untethered and weak against the aggression of his eyes staring you down. “You know, I’ve spent centuries coming up with all the ways I’d do it. How I’d kill him if given the chance.”

You watch his gaze move to the trees again, travelling elsewhere even though you’re here, standing still in front of him, already wondering how you'll get him back.

“Despite the scenarios being nothing but my foolish imagination running rampant, every time I end up suffering. Forced further into madness —pushed to the brink of what my body is capable of handling.” He shakes his head before raising it, blinking back tears that make your body ache. “Even in my wildest dreams I cannot win against his torment and yet… the moment you mention it… the moment you look at me with those eyes—”

Hearing him choke back a nervous laugh, this time it’s you who’s on him, clutching his face with both hands, pressing your thumbs to the inner corners of his eyes to wipe away the liquid that continues to pool.

“Why are you so willing to help me do the unimaginable?”

This time there’s no hesitation. No moment of thought that graces your mind as you smile up at him, pulling him further down with shaking hands to press your forehead to his. “It’s because I love you,” you tell him then. Barely above a whisper, you let it filter out like smoke, allowing it to envelop him entirely as you breathe and take him in, watching the way his lips unfurl and the anger laced within his features slips away. “And because the thought of allowing him to live after what he did to you fills me with a kind of rage I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.”

His hand moves to stroke the side of your neck. Gently, his fingers run across the bite marks he's inflicted, marking their positions with two subtle taps before they glide away, rooting themselves at the back of your head for support. Forcing you to remain in the moment, realizing what you’ve just said.

It’s hardly the right time to admit your feelings. But then again, given the circumstances, you quickly remember that there really isn’t one. Considering you're in the middle of a war, on your way to Ketheric’s base, it’s very unlikely you’ll have a spare moment to clear your mind and properly say all the things you’ve been itching to say.

Until the end, it’ll always feel like something’s missing —like you’ve forgotten an important phrase or detail. That whatever you say will never be enough to fully convey the weight of how he makes you feel each time he looks you up and down or makes you laugh.

Even as you stand before him now, holding him tight —watching the tears within his eyes threaten to spill once again, you know nothing you say will ever amount to the ache inside your chest, knowing that you’ve managed to give him the last sliver of hope you have to offer.

“I love you, Astarion,” you repeat then, praying this time it holds its weight. That the nervous rush inside your stomach passes through and all you’re left with is the kind of warmth you’ve only read about in stories.

His jaw is slack as you repeat your confession, shifting in a way that makes you more nervous than it should, watching him blink and hearing him breathe —doing everything but speak the words you want to hear as Shadowheart calls your name, pulling you both away to notice the annoyed look on her face as she tells you to hurry up.

TAGLIST:

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott

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#a foolish lover's offering #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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crisiscutie · 4 months

Note

Hi!! I love your work. I was wondering if you could write anything for Domestic Sephy where Darling actually gives birth to their children and it’s just a really sweet and tender moment? ❤️❤️🍼

-Anon

No problem~! Distant sequel to this fic/scenario..

Pairing: 🐈Fluffy Sephiroth/Domestic Darling🍳

Content Warning: None, besides focus on pregnancy/birth (not graphic)

Beads of sweat dripped down your forehead while your chest rose and fell, your breaths growing heavy by the moment. Sephiroth held you in a protective embrace, giving you a sweet kiss on your neck as you entered labor.

"I-I won't let you go..." His slit eyes were shut tight, as a singular tear trailed down his face. You forced a smile, attempting to reassure him as much as you were trying to reassure yourself. This wasn't your first time going through this, having experienced it four times already, but the discomfort and pain became no easier. Unlike the last times you two went to the clinic in the village, you and Sephiroth had chosen a home birth for the final part of your ten-year vow renewal.

"If this isn't a girl like you promised, you owe me big time," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm certain of it," Sephiroth replied, attempting to force his own chuckle. While he appreciated your attempt to comfort him, his sole concern was your wellbeing. He had never enjoyed this part of your pregnancies, even with the assurance that nothing would go wrong. In his mind, something always could. When your whimpering started, he tightened his grip on you, hating to see and hear you in pain. Your midwife urged you to push more, prepared to catch your baby.

Your eldest children, especially Angelica, were watching your labor process closely and quietly. Sharing her father's love for science, Angelica in particular, was excited to witness this special moment and gain more knowledge. You gave her and the boys the opportunity to witness this moment, as long as they felt they could handle it. And thankfully, things had been going well mostly so far.

"Don't you want to see this part, Loz?" Angealica said, placing a soothing hand on her brother's shoulder. Loz had his hands covering his eyes, desperately trying to stay calm. He wanted to be supportive, like his siblings, but it seems even the star player of his school sports team had his limits.

"I can't look! You can just tell me what it looks like!" He croaked.

"...You ever seen a chocobo blink its eye?" Yazoo said to him. A piercing scream suddenly escaped your lips as you got closer to getting your child out. Even more tears trailed down Sephiroth's cheeks as he nuzzled into your neck. Oh, how much he wanted to relieve your burden of pain, or at least bear it alongside you. It's only right for him to do so as your soulmate. You screamed for so long, you lost track of time, silently praying for this agony to be over.

"Mother, Father. It's all over now!" Kadaj said, excited to see his newborn sibling now brought into the world, cradled in the midwife's arms. Both you and Sephiroth opened your eyes, beholding the crying baby before you. Once the baby was carefully attended to, the midwife swathed her in a gentle blanket and placed her into your trembling arms. Sephiroth's arms supported yours, allowing you to continue holding your pride and joy.

"Baby Lucrecia..." You whispered, holding her close to your chest for skin-to-skin. Sephiroth's hands caressed yours gently, as he rested his head on top of yours. "You were right, Sephiroth..." You murmured. A mixture of a heartfelt chuckle and a cry escaped him in response.

"I'm only glad that you're both here, my love..." He said. As you two took a moment to recover from the intense moment, Loz finally removed his hands and opened his eyes. Tears of joy streamed down his face as he saw on his newborn sibling for the first time. Meanwhile, the other three engaged in a lively debate over the perfect nickname for their little sister.

"Lulu should be her nickname," Angealica declared confidently. "because I'm the eldest and that's my decree."

"You may be our big sister, but I'm the one who leads us!" Kadaj retorted at her.

"Lucy sounds better. Much more dignified." Yazoo remarked in his usual monotonous voice.

You quickly shushed your eldest children while Sephiroth gave them a wary glance, conveying the same message to them. You two were in no rush for this beautiful moment to end so quickly...

Definitely didn't steal some of the dialogue from this clip, xD

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #crisis cutie #sephiroth x reader #fluffy sephiroth #final fantasy x reader #reader insert #pregnant reader #female reader #x reader #fluffy angst #reader #remnants of sephiroth #kadaj ff7 #ffvii #tw: pregnancy

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morbific-or-felicific · 4 months

Text

-AGNOSTHESIA PART 3 Featuring Scaramouche’s

Part 1 Part2

Meaning: The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person

Word Count: 2.6k~

Description: After you almost fail your midterm Scaramouche decides to punish you

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

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You were in the library, sitting across the table from your boyfriend. You could feel his eyes on you while you read through the notes he had helped you make. The two of you had a midterm in half an hour, and you were hoping to at least get a seventy five…however out of reach that may be.

“You know, if you don’t know the material by now, you aren’t going to magically learn it in the next thirty minutes.”

You let out a sigh and met your boyfriend's gaze.

“Are you going to let me stop studying then?”

“Do you really think you can afford to stop? You do know how stupid you are, right?”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and returned your focus to your notes.

As you studied, Scaramouche lazily scrolled through his phone, texting and watching videos. It frustrated you to no end to know that, despite his lack of effort, he would no doubt earn the highest mark in the class. Meanwhile, you* were working as hard as you possibly could while still running the risk of failing, with Scaramouche’s ominous threat of ‘punishment’ hanging over your head.

You barely noticed when Scaramouche started gathering his things to head to class, having to have him snap his fingers in front of your face to break your focus. Finally, you gathered your notes, and the two of you made your way to class.

~ ♡ ~

Although you swore you had only spent twenty minutes writing the test, you supposed the full hour and a half must have passed since everyone who was still writing was instructed to hand in their tests. You had managed to finish just in time, but you weren’t feeling very good about how you had done.

You made your way out of the classroom to where your boyfriend had been waiting for you, laying across a few chairs he had somehow come into possession of. As you got closer to him, he looked up from his phone and stood up. He was happy to see you but also rather concerned about how upset you looked.

“How did it go?”

He spoke with uncharacteristic softness and concern.

“I don’t think it went very well…”

You felt rather hopeless about the whole situation and had already resigned yourself to failure.

“Come on, with how hard you’ve worked? I’m sure that you did just fine.”

You didn’t respond, choosing to instead stare dejectedly at the floor. Scaramouche offered a soft smile.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. We can go get food and watch a movie.”

You stayed silent for a moment, thinking over the proposal.

“That actually sounds really nice.”

“Come on then.”

He grabbed your hand and dragged you to his car.

~ ♡ ~

It had been exactly nineteen days since you had taken your midterm, and you had finally been emailed the results. You sat at your computer staring at the unopened email. You knew that you had probably failed, but you didn’t want to know that you had actually failed. You took a deep breath, did your best to relax your body, and opened the email. You scanned through the words and eventually found your results. You had passed. You swore you had never felt so relieved in your life. Granted, you had only gotten a 58, but that was more than enough for you. You wiped away a few tears of relief and flopped back in your chair. You took out your phone and called your boyfriend.

“Hello-”

“I passed.”

“Seriously?!”

“Yes!”

“Well that’s no surprise. You have me as your tutor, afterall.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face. Although he was clearly trying to hide it, pride was evident in his voice.

“Thank you, baby.”

You heard Scaramouche let out a little puff of air from his nose.

“Wanna come over so we can celebrate?”

“I guess I can.”

“Did you pass?”

“Is that even a question?”

“Well congratulations, you are the reason everyone hates being marked on a curve.”

You actually heard your boyfriend laugh at that.

“It’s not my fault you’re all inept.”

“Are you coming or not?”

There was a brief silence.

“I’ll bring food.”

“See you at 5:00?”

“Alright, love you.”

And with that, he hung up. You sighed and sent an “I love you too” text.

You spent the rest of your day doing some chores and some reading, and eventually, Scaramouche was knocking on your door. He brought an obscene amount of sushi, and somehow, the two of you managed to eat all of it.

It was a nice evening. Scaramouche was in a surprisingly good mood(he wouldn’t admit it, but he was quite pleased that you had managed to pass your midterm), and there wasn’t anything left to stress about.

The two of you sat on your couch, scrolling through streaming services. You were nestled under your boyfriend’s arm as he navigated to netflix and started scrolling through movies.

“So what movie do you want to watch?”

“Pride and-”

“No.”

“But you said I could pick!”

“Only if you pick a good movie.”

“You haven’t even seen it!”

“Too bad. I’m picking now.”

You sighed but didn’t really protest. You usually ended up liking whatever movies he chose anyway. This time, however, you had gotten somewhat bored about halfway through “Inception” and decided to grab your phone to scroll through whatever app seemed interesting.

“You know, if you’re bored, we can do something else.”

The prospect of doing something different admittedly interested you, so you decided to go along with it.

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

A small smile made its way onto Scaramouche’s face as he stood up, turning off the tv and reaching out his hand to you. You took it and followed him to your bedroom. You certainly weren’t going to complain if he wanted to reward you for passing. As you stood at the end of your bed, he stood away from you, leaning against the now closed door.

“Take off your clothes.”

You blushed, slightly embarrassed by how blunt he was but did as you were told anyway. You began to pull your shirt over your head when he stopped you.

“No. Slowly.”

You looked away from him, even more embarrassed now, and started slowly sliding your hands up your sides, bunching up your shirt as you brought it farther up your body. You pulled it over your head and tossed it onto the ground beside you. Next, you undid the button on your pants and slid the zipper down, but before you could begin to slide them down your legs, you were stopped once again by yet another command.

“Turn around.”

You silently obeyed and turned to face away from him as you slid your pants off, bending at the waist, knowing exactly what your boyfriend wanted from you. When you finally kicked off your pants, you turned back around to face Scaramouche. He had a little smirk resting on his face, and you could now see a bulge beginning to make itself known in his pants. Despite the number of times the two of you had fucked, you were still embarrassed to be almost naked in front of him.

“Why are you stopping?”

Your blush darkened as you reached behind you to undo your bra, letting it fall to the ground and then turning around once again to slide off your panties. Scaramouche bit his lip as he watched you. Fuck, you were so good for him. It’s too bad he had to punish you for almost failing your midterm, not that you were aware of that yet.

You turned around once again to face your boyfriend, and he began to move towards your closet, where he kept a few things for situations such as these. You were a little confused as to why he would want to use any of those things when he was rewarding you, but you didn’t question him. You fully trusted Scaramouche and knew he would never hurt you… well, unless you wanted him to. You continued not to question him when he brought out a coil of rope and told you to get on your hands and knees on the bed.

Although, you were still confused. He knows that you like being able to touch him, so why would he be using rope? You finally decided to question his actions when he had finished tying you up, a bad choice on your part. He had just finished the last knot when you piped up.

“Uh, why are you tying me up?”

“Because stupid little whores don’t get to touch me.”

Okay, now you were very confused.

“But I thought-”

“Dumb girls who almost fail their exams don’t get rewarded.”

His words would hurt if you didn’t know how proud of you he was.

“But-”

You felt his hand land hard and heavy on your ass, and your words morphed into a little shout of pain. You tried to wiggle away from him, but with your calves tied to your thighs and your hands tied behind your back, you couldn’t move an inch. You felt his hand land again on the other side of your ass as he reiterated his point.

“Don’t you think brainless sluts should get punished? I’m sure it’ll help get some sense into that empty head of yours.”

You could hear the smile in his voice. You heard him step away, and with you unable to move, you had no idea what was coming next. As his footsteps came closer again, you felt a finger run along your slit.

“You’re so wet already, pathetic.”

Your cheeks were burning. As he began to play with your clit, you started to let out little moans and whines. Fuck, he was good at that. You could hear how wet you were, his fingers starting to push in and out of you rhythmically. If he kept going, you were going to cum. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It felt so good. It felt like he was turning off your brain. All you wanted was for him to make you cum, and maybe for his cock to be inside of you. That would be nice too.

“Fuck, master, I’m going to cum!”

As soon as those words left your mouth, his fingers had been removed from you.

“No! Please! I need it! Please, let me cum!”

You were so close. You needed it so bad. Scaramouche knew that, and frankly, he couldn’t care less. Stupid girls don’t get to cum.

He teased you like this for at least half an hour, although it felt like an eternity. He kept bringing you to the edge just to steal away your end with a derisive laugh.

“Do you have any idea how pathetic you sound?”

You let out a particularly pathetic whine.

“‘Oh, master, please let me cum! I’ll be a good girl, please!’. You’d be worthless if you didn’t feel so good on my cock.”

Warm tears slid down your face, but you could feel yourself get wetter at his words. Scaramouche walked around the bed so he could take your face in his hands.

“Fuck, you look pretty when you cry.”

More tears ran down your face, despite the warmth you felt from his words.

“I should just keep you tied up so you can cry for me and be a good little fleshlight. That sounds nice, right, slut?”

You nodded, not quite sure how to respond. He laughed and walked back behind you. You tried to wiggle away, but you were still helplessly at his mercy.

You heard the clicking sounds of him taking off his belt, and you felt adrenaline shoot through your body. Finally, you were going to feel his cock inside of you.

However, your hopes were quickly dashed when you felt the harsh sting of a belt hit your ass. You screamed. Scaramouche laughed.

“You like that, don’t you, princess?”

You cried louder now, the sound only serving to make your boyfriend more turned on. Once again, you felt his belt come into harsh contact with your ass.

“Count.”

You let out a little shout of pain as another hit came.

“One!”

Your counting was followed by a whimper of pain and a light laugh from Scaramouche. Then the belt came down again.

“Two!”

You whimpered in pain, and your fists clenched behind your back, your nails digging into your palms. You didn’t know how long this would continue for, but you were ready to take whatever he chose to give you, as you always did.

Three more hits came from his belt, each one followed by a shot of pain and a number.

“Five!”

You readied yourself for another hit, but it never came. You jumped when you felt him gently rest his hand between your shoulders, slowly tracing his way down to your waist. Suddenly, he removed his hand, and you could hear him stepping away. He came to sit on the bed in front of you. He rested a hand on your cheek once again and leaned into you.

“Do you want to cum? Hmm?”

He smiled at you mockingly. You nodded emphatically.

“Please! I need to cum, master! Need it so bad!”

He couldn’t help but snicker at how pathetic you sounded.

“Well, if you want it so bad, then okay. I’ll make you cum, sweetheart.”

Fuck. If he’s saying yes, there has to be a catch… unless… was he done punishing you? You quickly got your answer when your boyfriend stood and walked back to where you couldn’t see him.

You heard him fiddling with something, and after a few moments, you felt something cold and plastic run up your slit a few times, collecting your wetness before finally pushing inside of you.

You knew what was coming, but you couldn’t stop the whine that you let out when the dildo started vibrating intensely. You started whining and moaning, not being prepared for the pleasure. Scaramouche walked in front of you once again, this time with a ballgag in hand. He pushed it inside of your mouth and tied it behind your head.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

And with that, you could hear your boyfriend walk out of the room and close the door, his light laughter trailing behind him. You tried to call out to your boyfriend, but everything came out garbled between broken moans. He wouldn’t leave you tied up for too long… right?

~ ♡ ~

You had no idea how long you had been left tied up like this, and you had lost count of how many times you had come. All that you knew was that you were exhausted. Finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and the door clicked open. He was back. Without saying a word, he turned off the vibrations and gently pulled out the toy. He walked around to sit in front of you and untied the gag, removing it from your mouth.

“Did you learn your lesson, princess?”

He smiled as if he were talking to a child. You nodded your head.

“Mhm!”

“Good girl.”

He stroked his thumb on your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. He started to untie you, going through all the knots until you were finally free. You stretched your sore limbs as Scaramouche left the room in search of a warm cloth.

Eventually, he reappeared with a warm cloth and an extra blanket. He cleaned you up and wrapped you in the soft blanket before carrying you back to the couch so the two of you could finish the movie.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @izzalovesdilfs @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez @k4ze3e @kenmabfasf @vvyeislazzy @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @hopeless-smvt @bloomingheartz @crazydreamcat @kazumiku @str4wb3rizz @kyon-cherri @ravereina @ashrodisiac

morbific-or-felicific.

#mae’s daily paper☕️*•̊ⴰ✧#scaramouche.❣︎•*✧ ̊ⴰ #mae.melts🧊*•̊ⴰ✧#personally i think this is fantastic but that’s just me #i hope you all like the food i’m sorry it took me so long #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche smut #genshin smut #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #afab reader #female reader

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danny-phantom-x-reader · 11 months

Text

Love Obsession

Summary: Danny is hit by Ember's guitar in its love section and you are so lucky to be the first person he sees [Characters are 16+] [I've been working on this for months, so I hope you guys like this]

It all happened so fast. You didn't realize the danger you put yourself in when you held Danny in your arms, trying to get him to wake up. You could hear Ember's mocking laughter since she knew that he wouldn't be bothering her anytime soon. In fact, he was going to have other things on his mind.

"Y/n-"

You look down at Danny, who had his eyes barely open. He reached out his hand towards your face and pulled you closer, as you looked worriedly at him. His eyes twinkled for a brief moment, before practically going all heart-like.

"You're very pretty."

"Uh-Thank you?" you look around, trying to find Tucker or Sam.

"Like really pretty," he now has both of his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, which in turn caused you to blush out of embarrassment.

"Oh-Well, uh... You're very pretty, too?"

He looks down at your hand, intertwining them both, before smiling lovingly.

"I think I love you Y/n."

You looked at him wide-eyed, "Excuse me?"

---

He clung to you like a panda, not wanting to let go as you pleaded with him. His eyes were dilated and he wasn't taking them off you. But it's also because he doesn't want you to leave his sight for even a second. You were starting to worry he wasn't blinking. He wants to be the center of all your attention, too, but with the way you were looking everywhere BUT him was irritating.

"Y/n."

You were now making eye contact with him. Your face was, in his opinion, a cute pink and your cheeks were turning a crimson red.

"Why won't you look at me?"

"I am-" You quickly defended.

"Then don't look away."

You sighed and leaned on his chest, "How about we go to my car?"

"But I don't want this moment to end."

---

You finally were able to get Danny into your car, after having struggled for a good 20 minutes with the way he clung to you. You groaned when finally losing the 150+ extra pounds of the male, not used to carrying so much. Maybe you should work out more? You shook your head, trying to focus. Danny's eyes were on you when you got into the driver's side and started your car.

You froze your hands on the wheels, uncomfortable with how close Danny was.

"Uh- Danny?"

"Yeah...?" He sighed happily, leaning his chin on his hand.

"Can you not stare at me? It kind of makes me a little uncomfortable," You awkwardly laugh.

"But you're so pretty. Besides, I like looking at you."

You turn towards Danny, grabbing his face, "You like me right?"

"I love you."

"Okay," you nodded, not taking him seriously, "If you 'love me' you'll stop staring at me and sit there quietly."

He seemed to think about it before grabbing your hands. "But I like looking at you."

"You can look at me all you want once we get to your house. How's that sound?" You felt stupid saying this, but it surprisingly worked.

He groaned and crossed his arms. Though, at least he wasn't staring at you. You were just content with the short-lived privacy.

---

"Okay, Danny." You sat him down on his bed. "I'm going to help you."

"Help me? I don't need help."

You grabbed his shoulders, causing him to blush, "You need to snap out of it. You're only like this because of Ember."

"Snap out of what?" He looks confused, even tilting his head cutely.

You rolled your eyes. In any other situation, you would have thought he was cute, "This!" You gesture at him, as he looked at himself.

"Is something wrong with me?"

You felt bad when hearing his sad tone and sighed. "Oh, Danny... Yes, yes there is."

"Oh. I'm sorry," he grabs your hand, pulling you closer, "I'll change for you. I can be the perfect boyfriend. Your perfect boyfriend."

"I'm calling Tucker-"

You didn't even see it coming, but Danny grabbed your hand, flipped you over onto the bed, and straddled you, while also getting closer to your face. You leaned on your elbows but he pushed you back down.

"Why do you want to call Tucker? Am I not good enough for you?"

"What are you talking about Danny? He knows all about this tech stuff and will know how to fix you."

"Fix me? Why do you need me to be fixed? Am I not good enough? Do you like Tucker better than me?" He was twisting your hair between his fingers.

"Would you prefer if I called Sam?" You angrily retort, annoyed by Danny's sudden jealousy.

"Why call anyone? Why can't we just stay like this?"

"I'm only letting this slide because I know you're under the impression of Ember's guitar powers."

He was now caressing your cheek, seemingly not paying attention to what you were saying. He was humming to himself and it was beginning to freak you out. You pushed him away, as he looked at you shocked. You sat up, while he was still sitting on your legs.

---

"Okay, Danny, we're going to snap you out of it."

"Snap out of what?"

Tucker frowned at his best friend and gestured to the ghost boy's room which was covered in pictures of Y/n.

"What? I like looking at her."

"Danny. It's creepy."

"What's creepy about being in love?"

Tucker shook Danny, "You are under a spell, Danny. This isn't real!" Tucker now made direct eye contact with him, "How would you feel if Y/n's room was covered in pictures of you?"

Danny sighed in bliss, "That'd be so hot-"

"Wrong! Danny, you have to snap out of it, so we can put Ember in the ghost portal."

"Ember? Who's Ember again."

Tucker pulls out a poster out of his bag, shoving it in Danny's face, "THIS is Ember!"

"Oh." Danny leans back, bouncing his back on the bed, "She made me realize I was in love with Y/n-"

Then Tucker got an idea. It wasn't a good idea and it could backfire, but if Danny loved Y/n so much, he was going to have to crush the love at the source. "Ember kidnapped Y/n."

Danny quickly sat up, "What? I thought Y/n was home?"

"No- Ember just took her, because she knew you loved her-"

Danny was standing up straighter and Tucker could tell he hit a string. "Where is she?"

"Well, she has a show tonight-"

--------

Danny glared at the blue-haired lady, not paying much mind to the people around him, who were white-eyed and dazed. He didn't care if the whole world was being controlled, but the minute Ember hurts Y/n, he was going to kill her.

"Where's Danny?"

You looked over Tucker's shoulder, who was rubbing his neck. "About that-"

You catch Danny's eyes and his widen as he rushes to you. He quickly hugs you and turns to Tucker.

"You said EMber kidnapped her-"

"You said WHAT? Why?"

"I'm so glad you're okay!" He hugs you tighter and you barely are able to get him off.

"Danny, you have to fight-"

He covers your mouth and caresses your cheek. "Shhhh... Who cares about her?" He tilts his head, giving you this look of love.

You were starting to feel smothered and you could see Ember getting stronger and you looked around before spotting Flash. An idea popped into your head, granted it was risky, but you had to snap Danny out of it.

"Flash!"

Said male turns around before walking over to you both. You knew you were going to regret this, especially when Danny was giving you a confused look. You pulled Flash down, kissing him and Danny watched wide-eyed.

You turned to the male who was glaring at you as if you had killed his pet. "Are you okay, Danny?"

"Am I okay? You just tore out my heart, stomped on it and then kicked it into the trash. No, I'm not okay." He looked up to Ember, who was glowing brightly, "And I know exactly who's fault it is."

Danny turned Ghost, before going to fight Ember, but you could see that he was losing. You looked over for Tucker, Sam quickly helping you. You found the male hooked to his cds and you grabbed him, pushing him on stage. He looks confused, as you and Sam tell him to just sing

And boy did he sing. Ember's power quickly drained as everyone snapped out of the mind control and Danny was finally able to suck her up.

-------

Danny scratched his neck as he avoided eye contact. He didn't know what to say and the photos were not helping him. He finally looked up at you, before sighing. You looked over towards him.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry... You know- For the creepy stuff."

"It's cool. I could never be mad at you, besides, you were under Ember's control."

Danny knew that was true, but he also knew that there was a part of him that liked you, a lot. He wanted to tell you about these feelings, but after this situation, he knew he'd have to wait.

#yandere danny phantom #danny #danny phantom x reader #danny x reader #yandere danny #yandere danny phantom x reader #yandere x reader #danny phantom #yandere danny x reader #danny fenton #yandere danny fenton #daniel 'danny' fenton #daniel fenton #danny fenton x reader #daniel fenton x reader

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dr-spectre · 1 month

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Splatoon 2 Callie Explained - (In my interpretation)

So in this blog post I wanna go over what is going on with Callie in Splatoon 2 because there's a lot of misinformation being spread around due to how unclear the events of Splatoon 2 were. I'm going to provide my own thoughts into how the Hypnoshades actually affect Callie and clear up what hypnosis actually does to a person, because a lot of people think that Callie was kidnapped and then mind controlled but its actually a lot more complicated than that. I've done a ton of painstaking research into this so if you would like some sources to what I'm saying then I'll be happy to provide it in the comments below when asked!

Okay so first off we need to establish one thing right off the bat, no, Callie was not kidnapped in the sense that she was snatched up by DJ Octavio and then brainwashed while she was kicking and screaming trying to stop him. The idea that Callie was snatched up randomly is simply not to true due to the fact that the OFFICAL Splatoon 2 relationship chart states that Callie was willing to hear out DJ Octavio and go with him. Why? Because if you look at Sunken Scroll 21 and 22 in Splatoon 2, it gives insight into Callie's declining mental health as she struggles to put on a happy face as she walks through a huge crowd of people, as well as the fact that she drew a squid with a sad face on it in Sunken Scroll 22 which is a very clear giveaway that she isn't doing well. Also keep in mind Marie was busy with her own solo thing too and Callie even states in the relationship chart that she's busy and lonely. It also explains why Callie doesn't experience any sort of trauma, turmoil or resentment after Splatoon 2 because well, she wasn't kidnapped and the shades were not forcibly put on her. (Also in Squid Sister Stories chapter 7 there's an artwork piece of Callie walking towards DJ Octavio's star mark so there's that too....)

Now I want to get into how hypnosis actually affects a person and what being hypnotized is actually like. Being hypnotized is described as having "heightened attention, increased focus and heightened suggestibility." You do not get put to sleep and become a puppet as popular media shows it to be, but instead you are hyper aware of what is going on around you. It's also said to be highly relaxing and can help with patients who struggle with anxiety and other mental issues, which might explain why Callie kept putting the shades back on, she enjoys wearing them to some degree as it helps her deal with the pain of being a celebrity, kind of like an addiction but unfortunately Splatoon 2 doesn't explore it at all and Marie (CALLIE'S OWN GOD DAMN COUSIN BTW!) jokes about it..... ugh...... at least she overcomes that addiction OFF SCREEN unfortunately....

Now that part about "suggestibility" is important to consider because contrary to popular belief, you don't lose awareness and memories while you are hypnotized and the person who is in charge of hypnotizing you, CANNOT force you to do anything that's against your wishes and you do NOT lose control of your behavior. Meaning that on some level Callie actually wanted to side with the Octarians because her life beforehand was shitty. The shades do not control Callie but instead put her in a hypnotic state that relaxes her and increases her attention and suggestibility.

For example, if DJ Octavio were to tell Callie to kill Marie instead of Agent 4, she would probably have a ton of hesitation about it and probably not follow his orders. Callie doesn't want to kill Marie, but she doesn't care or know about Agent 4 and that's why she had no problems with following DJ Octavio's suggestions. She also didn't try to attack Marie during the final boss when she was flying around and she just wants Marie to leave her alone because guess what, she's suffering from mental health issues!!!!!! And her relationship with Marie got worse and worse overtime as shown with the Squid Sister Stories.

If you were hypnotized and then the person responsible of your hypnotism handed you a weapon and told you to kill your best friend, you wouldn't do it because it's against your wishes (unless you secretly wanna kill your best friend for some reason....)

With all of this information laid out, it actually does make Splatoon 2's admittedly mid story a bit more interesting, it shows that Callie does have these dark traits and flaws about her, and the Hypnoshades bring out the worst in her. The angry, power hungry and harsh side to her, that was even built up from Splatoon 1. If you look at the dialogue from the Naughty vs. Nice, Early Bird vs. Night Owl and Callie vs. Marie Splatfests, you can see that Callie actually got upset at Marie multiple times due to her attitude.

It really does make Tidal Rush more emotional and powerful as a song if you really think about it. It's a clashing of two cousins whose relationship has been broken apart and Marie is desperately trying to reach out to Callie and fix what she has done. Maybe Marie blames herself for why Callie ran away and that's why she sounds like she's on the brink of tears in the song.... And it makes Spicey Calamari Inkantation more triumphant as a song too.

It does make me a bit angry that Nintendo doesn't wanna dive into these topics as well as Callie. She is flawed and has dark traits about her but, she doesn't try to change or grow from them in any significant or well written way, its like they forgot about it in Splatoon 3 which.... sucks man. I'm hoping we get a Side Order type deal with the Squid Sisters for Splatoon 4 and we dive deeper into the psyches of these girls, because what we have is really interesting but it lacks explanation and nuance and everyone keeps boiling it down to "welp Callie got kidnapped and mind controlled!" Which... its more complex than that... With Agent 3 and Marina it's for sure mind control and i would like to talk about them in a future blog but, with Callie? It's different and there's a lot of layers a lot of people tend to ignore because Splatoon 2's story is just... meh.

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #callie cuttlefish #callie splatoon #hypno callie #octo callie #marie splatoon #marie cuttlefish #dj octavio #essay #writing

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wordsbyrian · 1 year

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The End - Alessia x Reader

Summary: request from @kylegggssssss "one with alessia russo where the reader suffers a career ending injury plz"

A/N: I was gonna post this, then I wasn't, then I was, then I wasn't because Walti got injured the day it was scheduled. Now I am because the idiot men won and put me in a good mood.

The thing about the human body and pain is that when you're in enough of it, it sort of just stops hurting. Your brain will give you other things to focus on while telling the rest of your body to do its best to protect your vital organs.

For example, right now, your brain is telling you to focus on how cold you are and the hands on your face instead of the pain in your leg.

The pain in your leg.

You can’t see the limb but you know it has to be bad because there are a lot of hands on your body trying to hold you still.

The hands on your face.

They feel familiar, you know these hands.

Tilting your head in the direction they seem to be coming from you see your girlfriend.

And she’s talking, well her lips are moving but you can’t hear her or anything else which is weird because you could definitely hear when you woke up this morning.

She’s also wearing her jersey, which is less weird because you’re pretty sure you were in the middle of a game before you ended up staring at the sky.

With that realization, you resume your attempts to sit up, only for all the hands to push you down again.

Turning back to your girlfriend, you also realize that you can sort of hear her. It’s hard though as if you’re underwater, and it’s only made worse by the noise of the crowd but you speak anyway.

“Less, babe, they won’t let me sit up. Tell them to let me sit up.”

Your words sound slurred, even to your own ears.

“You can't, they're bringing the stretcher out for you,” Alessia says, still not taking her hands off your face.

“I don’t need a stretcher, I need to sit up, so I can stand up and we can keep playing.”

“They’re bringing out the stretcher, lovely, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, it’s that bad?”

Before Alessia has a chance to answer the medical staff and EMTs arrive with the stretcher and faster than you can process it, they have you on it and you’re moving.

“Less, Lessi,” you say trying to bring her attention back to you from where she’s talking to one of the people carrying you.

“Yes, Y/N/N, I’m listening to you.”

“You have to stay here and score a goal for me.”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t,” you tell her, “This is our last sub, and if the looks on everyone’s faces is anything to go by, you won't be able to see me for a while anyway.”

Alessia grips your hand tighter, why have you only just noticed that she’s holding your hand?

“Y/N/N,” she’s cut off by one of the medics.

“Alright, Y/L/N, we’ve really got to go now,” he says.

“What’s the rush, mate? It doesn’t even hurt.”

The guy doesn’t bother answering you, instead, he looks over his shoulder and makes a motion with the hand not holding the stretcher. Then suddenly you’re moving faster.

“Okay, so maybe we are in a rush,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “Can we at least stop by the bench first?”

The medics exchange a look.

“30 seconds but nothing more,” the same guy says.

“Nothing more,” you agree.

They carry you over to where your team is huddled around Skinner, receiving instructions on how to finish the game.

Once you’re being held steady, you sit up, having finally noticed that you’re not being held down.

This gets everyone’s attention.

“Hey, team,” you say, turning your head to look everyone in the face one by one. “I’m going to hospital now but I need you guys to do me a favor and beat City because if you walk in with these sorry looks on you’re faces, I’m gonna be fucking pissed.”

No one says anything but a few of them nod and you see the rest of their faces harden, already back in game mode.

Turning your attention to your girlfriend, who has yet to let go of your hand, you give her what you hope is a reassuring smile before continuing to speak.

“I want to see the video of your goal when you come by later,” you tell her. Then laying back down, you say to the medics, “Take me away lads.”

They do.

You don’t remember much of the ambulance ride to the hospital or even actually arriving at the hospital. But you do remember getting the nerve block and hearing the whispers as they rolled you into the OR.

Your leg had remained covered the whole time, so you still hadn’t seen it but the whispers are bad.

The whispers say you’ll never play again.

When you wake up after surgery, it’s late or maybe earlier, but either way, it’s dark and Alessia is asleep in a chair beside your hospital bed.

The first thing you do is peek under the sheet covering you to get a glimpse of your leg.

Not being the biggest fan of what you see, the second thing you do is hit the call button to get a nurse in the room.

It doesn’t take one long to show up and after a quick conversation with them, you’re waiting for your surgeon.

When she arrives, you can tell by the look on her face, she only has bad news.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you awake,” she says. “I’m Doctor Jones.”

“Hey. Just give it to me straight Doc, no fluff.”

“I just want to start by saying that the surgery went very well,” she begins, “Your leg was broken in multiple places, most notably your ankle but there were fractures in both your tibia and fibula as well. We’ve realigned all of those and used plates to repair your ankle.”

“This is fluff,” you tell her, “I just need to know when I can play again.”

“Perhaps, we should wake up your friend before I tell you anymore.”

“Girlfriend,” you say firmly. “And, it’s better for everyone if you just get this over with and tell me.”

Doctor Jones pauses for a moment, clearly struggling with whether she should tell you or not before she nods.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” she says, voice calm and severe, “In my professional opinion, it is doubtful that you’ll ever be able to play professionally again. To do so would be risking your ability to walk.”

“Cool,” you nod. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’d like for you to leave now,” you say, not looking at her.

“I understand,” she’s already begun walking away and is standing in the doorway. “Members of the Ortho team will be in later to check your leg and put a cast on. Then the PT will come by so you can discuss possible next steps.”

You barely hear her, her earlier words bouncing against the inside of your skull as you stare blankly at the wall.

Seconds, minutes, and hours pass.

The sun rises.

A nurse brings you breakfast, then takes it away when it becomes obvious that you aren’t going to eat it.

Alessia wakes up but you make no sign of noticing it.

The surgeon returns and the two of them go out in the hallway to talk. Alessia comes back alone and immediately climbs into the small bed with you, pulling you down so that you’re laying with your head against her chest.

She doesn’t say anything. You aren’t sure if you want her to.

Your teammates come.

They bring flowers and cards and news of the game.

Millie and Ella take it a step further and pull up highlights and take turns breaking down all 3 of the goals that happened after you got hurt.

They all try to hide it but you can see the sadness on their faces.

The ortho team comes to put your cast on and the team leaves, they all ruffle your hair as they leave the room.

A few of them argue about who will be the first to sign your cast, there are plots to be the first ones to come visit you on their own once you’ve returned home.

Getting the cast is the worst.

The ortho tech and his assistant manhandle you into position, bending your knee and ankle so they can get it set. It goes halfway up your thigh and it starts to itch immediately.

It’s terrible.

Everything about this sucks and it only gets worse when the PT comes by.

He talks for almost 10 minutes and Alessia asks him questions.

When he leaves, you break and it’s not pretty but Less holds you the whole time.

She tells you that everything will be fine and that you’ll get through it together.

You don’t believe her when she starts talking but by the time you cry yourself to sleep, you could be easily convinced that your girlfriend is the only person who has any idea what’s going on.

That feeling doesn’t go away.

You’re in the hospital for 2 additional days after that.

You sent Alessia home the very next morning, pointing out her need to get proper rest and return to training. There is a title to secure after all.

A week after your release, you leave your and Less’s shared apartment for the first time.

It’s game day you’ve convinced your brother to drive you to LSV so you can support your friends in person.

While the wheelchair you’re forced to use is cumbersome, and you're slightly embarrassed to not be walking in under your own power, you can tell all the fans are happy to see you.

In fact, you get a notification that the team has tagged you in a photo of you letting some young fans sign your cast.

The game, though, it’s one of the best you’ve seen as a fan. It was a terrible day to be a Liverpool fan.

Afterward, your idiots teammates, mostly Millie and Vilde, take turns carrying you piggyback-style around the pitch to thank the fans.

Unfortunately, your presence manages to get the attention of the media and you find yourself sucked into the post-game presser with Skinner and Zel.

You’re zoned out for most of it but eventually, you hear the gaffer saying your name.

“Yea, obviously, we missed having Y/N out on the pitch tonight, even off the field she’s an important part of the team,” Marc says. “As for the timeline for her return, we’re currently seeking a second opinion but otherwise we’re taking it day by day and we’ll reevaluate in a few months.”

You barely manage to keep from rolling your eyes at him and you must be successful because the reporter turns his attention to you.

“Y/L/N, is there anything you can tell us,” he asks.

“I mean I’m out for the rest of the season, obviously,” you reply after taking a moment to think about it. “Otherwise, I get this cast off in a few weeks and hopefully I get a smaller one because it is pretty annoying not being able to unbend my knee.”

“Is there an official diagnosis or prognosis?”

“Yea mate, broken.”

“Have you seen the clip of how it happened,” someone else asks.

“Nah, sports psych told me not to,” you say, “I tend to listen to her. I don’t blame the City player though, not sure who it was, whole thing was a freak accident.”

You continue to answer the stupid questions for another 5 minutes before you excuse yourself, using your brother as an excuse.

Except it isn’t your brother who’s waiting for you in the hallway, it’s Alessia.

“Where’s Nick,” you ask.

“He went home,” she says, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair, “Thought you’d be happier to see me.”

“I am. Just shocked.”

You tilt your head back just in time to see her smiling down at you and you can’t help but smile back at her as she wheels you through the halls and out to the car.

Most of the car ride is silent, Less is focused on driving and you’re still trying to get used to your new role as a passenger princess.

Plus, you’re battling a lot of big thoughts while you sit with your leg elevated across the back seat.

It isn’t until you feel the car come to a complete stop and be turned off that you voice one of them.

“Hey babe?”

“Hmm?”

“You know you don’t have to stay with me, right,” you tell her calmly. “I know this isn’t really what you signed up for.”

Your girlfriend turns around to look at you only to find you staring straight out the window with the same blank look from the hospital.

You're so caught in your own head that you don’t even see her get out of the car.

One moment, you're leaning against the car door and the next you're leaning against her. Less having come around and climbed into the back with you.

“You're an idiot,” she says after a moment. “You’re an idiot and I’m not letting you break up with me.”

“Lessi, baby, just,”

You’re cut off.

“No, don’t ‘Lessi, baby’ me. For some reason you seem to think that I won’t want to be with you if you can’t play football, which is stupid,” she says, turning your head so you’re facing her. “I love you, not because you’re good at football but because you’re you.”

“I don’t know who I am if I’m not a footballer.”

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N. You’re the person who still goes to check on her former elderly neighbors because you know they don’t get a lot of visitors. The same person who once hiked 2 miles in the rain because her nephew dropped a toy and refused to leave without it. You,” she pauses for a moment, “You great big idiot, are the love of my life and I’m not letting you push me away because you’ve gotten stuck in your own head.”

“Okay.”

“Good, now let’s get inside, there’s a new episode of Big Brother tonight.”

When she reaches for the door handle, you stop her.

“Hey pretty girl,” you say, getting her attention, “I love you too and I can’t promise to stop being an idiot completely but I can promise to try.”

Your girlfriend doesn’t say anything, she just takes your face in her hands, much like she did a week and a half ago on the field, and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #engwnt x reader

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itsgodepi · 5 months

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If I lose my mind | Ch. 8

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 5.4k Also on AO3

“Your things arrived a few days ago, the... uh, what’s it called in English? The portier?” Charles questions with furrowed brows, repeating the French word once again, much slower and carefully, so you can have a fair try at guessing its meaning

It takes you a second to give a meaning to what he is trying to say, “Is it like the one that manages the building, kind of?”, the exact word he refers to not coming to mind no matter how much you try. Your mental dictionary is running a bit low after everything went down today.

“Yeah, that’s it” he smiles at you over his shoulder, leading you out of the elevator and into a small corridor. The suitcase’s wheels clattering across the black tiles, following your path to one of the apartments’ doors, number 7 “What, you know French now?”

“No, no, I wish” you laugh, shaking your head at the possibility that you would ever understand any other word in that language “It just sounds similar to the word in Spanish, portero”

Charles opens the door before answering, a sight that leaves you open-mouthed being discovered before you. You do not know in what to focus first, if the sight of the tall buildings and the port drawn out in the floor to ceiling windows or the expensive looking furniture that decorates the rest of the room “Well, you’ve come to the best place to learn”

Because yes, you have in fact encountered the perfect opportunity to learn the language. After all you'll be living in Monaco for at least ten days before going back to the crazy life of a Formula One driver. That is enough time to grasp a bit of French or drive yourself crazy, we’ll see which one of the two comes first.

Your morning had started with a chain of events that leaned more towards the second option. You had woken up in the late morning, the warmth of the soft bedsheets and the darkness provided by the thick curtains almost fooling you into believing you had finally escaped this bizarre dream, that you were back home, and your alarm was pushing you out of bed for your practices. There would be an awful day ahead of you, but at least a real one.

But that hope was short lived.

Instead of your alarm, that ringing noise turns out to be coming from the hotel’s phone, a man on the other line animatedly informing you that this is your wakeup call and to have a great day when you pick it up. Apparently, Nick had been the one to request the service, sceptic that you would make it in time to the airport without him nagging you about it. The exact same reason why he had prepared for a car to be waiting outside for you at least an hour before, just in case.

Charles and Carlos are already waiting when you arrive to Budapest’s airport, inside a very expensive looking waiting room that hosts only the few people travelling alongside you. Yeah, it seems like flying private actually means flying private, with all the special commodities that brings. However, it also means that the first time you hear what country you are heading to is when you are strapped down to your seat and about to take off. Monaco seems alright, doesn’t it?

“He called me like, right before FP2, back in France, because a couple of suitcases had arrived for me.” Charles continues recounting the events of last Friday, inviting you in and taking the heavy bag that you insisted on carrying from you “I wasn’t expecting anything, so I almost turned them all away, all your luggage for the break! Seriously, you have to text me or something next time you send your things over...”

Mindlessly, you give in to his nagging and apologise for not warning him beforehand “Sorry, my mind’s been all over the place lately”, even if you have no idea what those things he is complaining about are or what that implication for a next time actually means. It is easier this way.

Charles seems to perfectly understand what you are saying, the confession about the hardships you have been facing holding a deeper meaning for him than you could ever fathom “I know, it’s okay”, but he does not even know half of what you are going through

After weeks upon weeks of waking up alone in a cold and unfamiliar hotel room —what little belongings you have pushed to a corner and some clothes thrown over a chair—, it is not surprising that the sight of Charles Leclerc sleepily going through the kitchen’s cabinets makes you feel all warm inside. The man is wearing a white baggy shirt and blue shorts, his hair a mess and lips pursed in concentration.

He turns around as soon as he hears you padding through the corridor, a grin slowly taking over his expression “Good morning! Did you sleep well? I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No no, it’s alright, I’ve been up for a while” you calm him down, walking up to the countertop and awkwardly leaning on it. Unlike him, you are already dressed up and pretty clear-headed, you never know what your mind is going to put you through in this new day. Your room is pretty far apart from the kitchen and his room too, there is no way you could have heard him with how huge huge his apartment is “And you? How did you sleep?”

“Great, it always feels nice being back home” Charles prepares the rest of the breakfast while you chat away, inviting you to sit on one of the highchairs at the other side of the countertop when you do so much as try to help him fix the dishes. He somehow knows exactly what to prepare for you, his plate and yours starkly different and yet he is not doubting a single one of his choices, as if he had done it a thousand times.

“So, what do you want to do today? I have to make a few calls but, after that, I’m all ready to go” the man explains, finally pouring himself a cup of coffee and coming to sit beside you. In response you can only give a shrug of your shoulders while you munch on the toast Charles so carefully prepared, you have no idea what is there to visit in Monaco. Thankfully, Charles has given the trip some though —well, he was bringing you to his literal hometown, how could he not?—, and in a second has your day all planned out.

The conferences take longer than expected, the driver coming to apologise over and over again when he has to shut himself off into his improvised office for another ‘final’ call. That is how the hours keep ticking by and you end up also having lunch at his apartment. “This is the last one, I promise” he swears after you both get up from the table, the leftover of two delicious dishes which appeared out of thin air, still in front of you.

You are not upset about it, not that much at least, you can understand this is his job and he needs to be on top of all these interviews and meetings —you only got a couple emails to respond and a call from Nick, but you guess this is what being in a team like Ferrari really is. Nonetheless, it does not mean it doesn’t annoy you a bit, you really had been looking forward to all the activities he had been talking to you about. Charles managed to distract you easily enough though, got you some Netflix, games and food so it all would pass in the blink of an eye.

“Oh, sixteen? That’s yours?!” you gasp, a bounce added to your step as you approach the red Formula One car placed at the entrance of the new room. The centre of your attention in a space filled with cars from every single year and brand you could ever imagine, the mirrors on the sides and covering the ceilings giving you all of the perspective of the machine.

“Of course it is, you didn’t know it was here?” Charles lets out a chuckle at your outburst, a grin now permanent on his lips as he follows you. The visit to the Prince of Monaco’s Car Collection had been worth it just for the look on your face, the fact that they kindly closed it for the two of you only adding an increased value to your reaction “They have the Alfa Romeo too”

Although you could discover what the Alfa Romeo thing meant if you moved your gaze a little bit to the left, you seemingly prefer to overlook that piece of information instead, completely entranced by the car in front of you “It looks so different...”

Possibly because everything around you is, indeed, different. After all, this is the first time you have had the opportunity to take step back and see the small details, away from the stress of the garage or the screams shaking the stands. That kind of atmosphere though, is irreplicable, the wave of emotions that fill your body as soon as you set foot into the circuit. Real or not, that is something you haven’t been able to get out of your head since this madness started.

You are unbelievable, seriously, after only two days of the break you are somehow already missing the track? Who could have told you that a month ago Wait, a month-?

“Does it? They have been making a lot of changes in the regulations lately, maybe...” Charles mumbles by your side, eyes ever so carefully looking over the car, and leaning over one of the signs on the ground, a half-smile pulling at his lips when he reads it “Oh, true, it’s the SF90! Oh my God, this one... Honestly, it wasn’t that bad of a year, I won a couple races too, but the car had so many problems. When it wasn’t the new tyres, it was the balance, then the understeering was awful at some point as well... It was just impossible to beat the Mercedes”

To finish off his explanation, Charles dismissively points with a tilt of his head to one of the Formula One cars sitting farther down the room, a Mercedes from who knows what year. Whatever, it illustrates his story just fine. Besides, this movement also allows for him to catch a peek of you from the corner of his eye, a big grin on your lips that you try to cover with a raised hand “Wait, are you laughing at me?”

“No! Of course not, I was just-” you splutter, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights “It’s ‘cause you were, how do you say it? Like really into it? Contrated? I don’t know, I’m sorry!”

“No, no, I’m not telling you anything anymore! Go on, I’ll be quiet” Charles declares, not hearing you and acting so very much offended that you would be making fun of him. To better show his point, he starts stepping back and rises his arms to put some space between the two of you.

That is when you cannot hold you giggles anymore, the fact that he is trying to even avoid your eyes while you follow him “No, don’t say that, I promise I won’t laugh” you swear, taking a hold of his arm to stop him from walking away from you “C’mon, you’re the best tour guide!”

And maybe Charles takes that praise as a challenge, green eyes shining and cheeks full with a smile which he can’t supress no matter how hard he tries. Throughout the next few days, the Monegasque shows you the most beautiful spots of the city that saw him grow up —albeit on an intermittent basis, as he recounts the numerous trips he’s had to go on since he was a child—, a city that he adores and misses like no other. From the more touristic sites, the timetables of which he knows from A to Z and to which he has prepared private visits for each one of them, to the places that have a special place in his heart.

All of this without letting you pay a single dime, getting rejected each time you do so much as try to get your purse out, the little money you have gathered in your time in here resting inside without any prospects of ever getting spent.

It is a shame that when you are heading to one of the spots Charles has been looking forward to the most, you are caught red-handed. At first it is not as worrisome, a French fan approaches Charles for a photo and you politely step out of the way to let them take it, which catches the attention of a nearby couple that take this opportunity to ask you for a selfie —yeah, it still feels strange, even inside a dream. Maybe the husband talks a bit louder than needed about how surprised he is to see you here, or how happy he gets the moment Charles comes over to you, but after a couple of minutes you are being mobbed by half the people in Monaco. Flashes, screams and hands flying everywhere.

“It’s been a while since I last had to be rescued by the police...” Charles signs once he finally plops down on the sofa, changed into comfier clothes and the TV remote on his hand

You silently sort out the food on the small coffee table, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened, nerves tingling with the range of emotions this all brought up. It is not fear, that is something you seem to have somewhat become numb to, but something deeper. That is not something that had happened to you before, people are usually behind barriers on Grand Prixes, or they have someone better to pay attention to. This had felt truly overwhelming, suffocating even.

And yet, there it is, your lifeline. Again.

Charles’ hand comes to caress your hair after you spend a second too long in silence, hands tracing your strands as he brushes them away from your face, hand finally descending down to your neck and lightly massaging it. He had done something similar in the middle of that chaos, his hand on your arm, shoulder or back drawing tiny circles on your skin, a permanent hold that was supposed to prevent you from getting separated, but which had done so much more. “That smells great” the man whispers, leaning forward since you had chosen to knee in front of the couch.

The frown you didn’t feel forming relaxes as you look back at him, the thoughts previously swarming your head now vanished “Mm, yeah, it’s really tasty”

“What?! You’ve been stealing food while I was changing?” the Monegasque rightly accuses, disbelief painting his features

“You were taking so long!”

Charles seems to also know his way around the restaurants of Monaco, the stack of takeout you thought was way too much for two people ends up disappearing within minutes, the great amount of food you consumed leaving you to lazily lay on the couch, bellies full and watching TV after a night that had to be cut short.

The show you are watching is entertaining, you will give Charles that one, you have already gone through two and a half episodes and you can’t wait to see what happens next. It would have been even more amazing to not start it on season 3 though. It is true that Charles had started his offer to play it with a “Do you want to continue watching whatever-the-name-of-the-series-is?” and you had seen him scrolling all the way to the fourth episode of that same season without saying a word as well, but you had got accustomed to brush off things like this, like every other information from this reality that you don’t understand.

You nod and carry on with your ‘life’, that has been your modus operandi since the beginning, why change?

Thankfully, Charles gives you small explanations in the form of funny comments on every other scene, and although you don’t understand some of them, you laugh them off like anybody would do if he was looking at them the same way he does with you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question at some point of the night, eyes fixed on the screen as if that could hide any of the unrecognizable feelings boiling within you

A chuckle slips out of his lips before he can begin answering, not fazed even slightly by your claim “You’re still so obsessed with the theme song...” Charles also meets your gaze straight on the moment you finally gather the courage to do so, not shying away from the way your big eyes stare at him “It’s cute”

A confession that catches you off-guard and to which your response is to smile and carry on, snuggling under a blanket which has made you slip that much closer to Charles. Summer nights in Monaco are cold.

About halfway into your vacation, Charles presents you with a different type of plan for the day “I’m going out with my mother and Arthur in a couple of hours... do you maybe want to come?” the way his green eyes look up at you in expectation betray his previous show of confidence, his gaze lowering to the toasts he is preparing.

The invite makes you stop in your track, hand half-way in the air with a piece of fruit you had tried to steal from one of the dishes. Honestly, from all the challenges you had expected this universe to throw at you today, not once would you have imagined that having lunch with Charles Lecler’s mom would be one of them, that’s for sure.

“Oh, your mother knows I’m here?” it is the stupidest question you could make, you are aware of it, but this seems so out of the blue —yes, you have apparently reached the point where jumping into a Formula One car feels more ordinary than whatever this is. But it’s because, like, you aren’t this close, are you? Yes, you flew with him, you are spending the break in his apartment, he has prepared your breakfast every single day, but-

“That you are staying here? Yeah, of course she knows” Charles answers, matter of fact, as if it was no big deal “But it’s okay, I know you get nervous with things like these, I can tell her you have a meeting or something”

Perhaps if the man had not been so understanding and given you such an easy way out, you would have accepted the outing, what is the worst that could have happened? That his mom was a wonderful person who had spent hours baking a typical pastry to gift you? If you had not felt bad enough this morning when declining Charles’ offer, now you sure were feeling like the worst person to ever walk on earth. Safe to say you almost tear up when you read the note she left you on the box: Enjoy your stay, my dear. I hope we’ll see each other soon. More so when his sons reveals he had to help her write it in English.

You miss your family that much more now, if that was possible.

Unfortunately, you do not encounter any other opportunity to meet Charles’ mother, the days flowing past you faster than you could have imagined. Charles has surprised you with organized trips to other cities near Monaco, from both Italy and France, every new sight he shows you more breathtaking than the last. The fact that this man, a Formula One driver for Ferrari nothing less, is swimming in money, taking the sweet little activities you had thought about to a whole other level.

Nonetheless, spending a bit more also becomes a need when you are trying to keep a low profile, neither of you want a repeat of what happened in Montecarlo —for more reasons than because it is dangerous. Which means that booking private terraces to watch the view is sometimes required, other times you get a tour through a closed section of the museum solely because they recognized him, or you, which is still something you are struggling to come to terms with, but you can’t complain.

Tonight, to properly finish off your stay in the country, Charles has invited you out to a fancy restaurant. It is built in the outskirts of Monaco, a place where the waves of the ocean are louder than the noises of the city. You get seated in open space that overlooks the sea, the quiet and elegant atmosphere of the place captivating you. You are thankful to whoever had prepared those suitcases which arrived at the apartment before you even knew you were visiting, because the black satin dress that was waiting for you inside one of them, is the perfect fit for the occasion.

The hunt for the perfect outfit had also brought a discovery that you couldn’t quite believe yet. Inside a white jewellery box that you had been carrying since the beginning and that you had not cared to open until today, you had found one of the most important pieces you ever owned, one you had been missing dearly: your grandmother’s favourite necklace. It had been a gift given to you many years ago, your grandmother’s promises of how it would make your wishes come true and protect you still echoing in your ears. Upon its discovery, you heart had skipped several beats, your hand snatching it from the box faster than you could think about it to bring it close to your chest, a place where it now proudly rested and that it would not ever leave again.

The only piece of a reality which appears evermore distant and unreachable each passing day.

The dinner is spent chatting away and tasting delicious dishes that you cannot pronounce the name of, your knight in shining armour —in this case, a navy-blue suit that fits him like a glove— saving you time and time again from embarrassing yourself trying. That gesture in itself being a blessing in disguise. It is fascinating watching Charles talk in French, sounding ever so charming speaking words you do not understand, his voice and demeanour changing when talking in his mother tongue. You have not learned a word in French, but if the hours you have spent staring at Charles talking counted, you would have the highest level.

That is some of the nonsense you keep thinking about in the way back to the apartment, your body comfortably relaxing back into the passenger seat of his Ferrari while the city lights keep flowing by your sides. The Monegasque takes his hand off the gearstick after reaching a red light, resting it atop your knee and gently squeezing it when you don’t peel your eyes off the window.

“Sleepy?” he queries in a soft voice, amused.

You shake your head in response, the “No” slipping from your lips too low to even hear it yourself. Your hand reflexively comes down to wrap around his in reassurance, an act which only manages to further confirm his suspicions.

Charles walks to your side to help you out of the car, the excuse of being sleepy —although the expensive wine and your high heels are playing a big role in your clumsy walk— useful enough for you to hold onto his arm in the way up to his apartment. The silence is nice too, calming despite the fact that it is hiding so many thoughts behind.

“So, did you have fun?” Charles is the first one to speak once you reach the parting point, even if it is only the middle of his living room and there is still time tomorrow before he takes you to the airport, it feels more important than that

“Yeah, I did, a lot. Thank you, Charles, for everything” you respond, the words coming straight from your heart, you are grateful for not only the material part of this vacation, but for how comfortable he has made you feel in this unknown reality. The man has truly made of your trip to Monaco an unforgettable experience, a memory that you will forever cherish. You hope he understand that.

Although he tries to downplay it, say how much of a good time he has had thanks to you and all of that, you are quick to shush him, repeating your thanks and not accepting any of the justifications he’s give. And he somehow lets you get away with it, that easily, a fond smile pulling at his lips while he looks down at you “Okay, okay... I’m just happy you are here, honestly”

Charles word’s startle you, your heart speeding to a hundred miles per hour in just a second. The man ignites this inexplicable feeling inside of you, one so familiar and foreign at the same time, slowly building inside of you, a warmth that threatens to overcome you at any second if you let it. This silence and closeness not helping you in the slightest.

Paired with these thoughts come other less comforting ones, a more logical part that warns you that you have been letting this go on for too long. You let your hold on Charles’s arm fall, instinctively taking a step back. This is too much, the wine must have been playing with your head, you have let this go on for over time and-

However, Charles doesn’t seem to agree with any of the thoughts boiling in your head, his hand following the movements of yours and catching it halfway, his fingers intertwining with yours. Not ready to let you go just yet. He can see the gears turning at full force inside your mind as well, hopes the gesture will stop you from overthinking it all and focus solely on this.

For you though, that train of thought isn’t as easy to reach, even less so when his touch has set your nerves alight. “Oh, yeah, me too! Well-, I mean, I’m happy to be here. The first day I thought I wouldn’t even see you in all ten days, but it’s been great ever since, I promise!” the tension of the moment is too much to handle, and it forces the first stupidity that comes to your mind out to break it

Charles tilts his head to the side, taking some extra time to process what you said “What?”

Sadly, instead of simply waiting for him to interpret your babbling, your big mouth keeps on talking “You were working, I completely understand! I mean, you’re in Ferrari, of course... I just got nervous at first, that’s all”

“Oh” the Monegasque simply says, his face void of any emotion as he watches you freaking out thinking you’ve upset him. You and your stupid brain that keeps making up excuses for a joke you had told to ease the tension, you should start thinking twice about it. The wine has also loosed up your tongue.

At some point Charles decides it is time to have some mercy on you and stop your monologue, a big grin making his eyes crinkle before he is using his hold on your hand to bring you in for a big hug — what a nice way to ask you to shut up.

“Seriously, this is driving me crazy...” he confesses with a giggle, tightening his arms around your body as you deflate in his hold, letting go of all the nerves that had so suddenly preyed on you “You know what happened? I prepared everything, arranged some visits and talked to some people, everything! And I thought: I’ll push all the meetings I have to Monday and Tuesday, so they won’t bother us at all, she’ll probably sleep until, like 2 p. m.” Charles narrates the plan he had so carefully drawn up for your visit, making a pause to lean back and see your reaction to all that happened behind the scenes before you came to the country “Well, turns out that someone, even after driving for 70 whole laps in Hungary and having not slept at all during the flight, just decided to wake up at 8 in the morning! Who does that?”

The belly laugh that escapes you is loud, cheeks hurting from the big smile that has managed to take over your face throughout Charles’ story, his expressions and gestures depicting how much it had surprised him to see you walking down the hall that morning. All dressed up and ready for the day, if you may add.

“Why do you think I took you to the Prince’s Car Collection that day? I thought, since she’s been pestering me for months about it, maybe that’ll make her forget she’s been locked away all morning”

“Aw, that’s so nice!” you compliment him, elongating the syllables and swaying him from side to side to further support your words, your hands still resting on his chest and his having claimed their place at your sides. You do not remember ever talking about the collection, but that is something that does not matter right now "You've been a great tour guide"

“I really am nice” Charles affirms with a smirk, like he cannot believe you didn't find that out earlier, and you can only nod at him in agreement. He has been nothing but amazing in the time you have known each other, you’ll give him that. "I don't know about the tour guide part though, you've been only laughing at me..."

You playfully hit his chest, smiles turning to giggles that give way to a comfortable silence, a moment to relax. Happiness is spilling out of every single pore of your skin as you look at each other with a silly grin on your lips, eyes analysing every feature of the other’s face and committing it to memory as if they were about to vanish in time. A strong hold on each other just in case.

You can see Charles debating wether to break the silence or not, a soft frown set in between his eyebrows while his eyes search for a sign in yours. His lips are pursed, the words that had been stuck in his mind for a while now about to finally be pronounced. However, a strange music beats him to it.

It promptly steals your attention from him, moment broken. Your head turns to the sound, recognizing where it seems to be coming from... your bedroom?

As if hypnotised, you step away from Charles, the Monegasque letting you go from his hold without putting up much of a fight —although he desperately wants to. Something inside of you pulling you towards the sound. The steps you take to the room seem endless, the heels clicking on the hardwood following your path and the noise getting louder, but when you open the door it all happens so fast. You somehow know exactly where it is coming from, hands digging with urgency inside the backpack you had taken to airport 10 days ago. Having come to kneel on the ground, you pull out a cloth bag and lay it out beside you, the realization that it is the same one Nick left for you in Hungary’s hotel and you had not even opened, being too vague for you to fully grasp it.

The music is louder now, your ears ringing with the stupid rhythm when you finally decide to empty all of its contents out on the floor for easier access. You find a lip balm, earphones, some papers and buried under all of it: a phone.

Another one. A phone you had never seen, the one Nick gave you at the start of this madness still secure in your bag. Where did it come from? Nick had said the bag contained the stuff you left behind at the track, but you sure as hell did not leave this.

You watch your hand stretching towards the device in slow motion, your mind pushing you forward but getting no response in return. The screen is upside down, the case vibrating against the floor and joining the cacophony of sounds that has been bouncing off your ears, a feeling of being underwater so awfully recognizable that you get dizzy just thinking about the last time you endured its consequences. The necklace burning in your chest.

What is this phone? Who is calling?

Your fingers tingle at the touch, the device turning in your hold ever so slowly to reveal the caller screen. At the top, written in big bold letters reads the contact's name you have been longing to see for so long:

DAD

A due reminder that none of this is real.

Author's note: Omg, this is so long, I got carried the fuck away with this one. As you have probably noticed it is not even proofread, if I keep it in my drafts any longer I'll keep adding to it. It ended up being as a kind of Charles' one shot thing so I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated, thank you all so much for reading!

Also happy New Year to everyone!! This was supposed to be my Christmas present to all of you but it just kept going out of control.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

If anybody is missing from the taglist, please send me a message! I've had some problems with tumblr lately so I'm really sorry if I didn't tag you.

#charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 imagine

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