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keerysfreckles · 3 months

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Maybe luke having a skincare day with aphrodit!reader? I’m in love with your stories 😭😭😭💕

rosy — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns

a/n: the og mean girls musical soundtrack >>>

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

winter at camp half-blood couldn't be described easily. it snowed all around the camp, but never inside the barrier. yet somehow it was still cold. the snow pillowed around the barrier of the hill, and the white clouds just stayed just above the camp.

most campers went back to their homes after the summer, sometime in august. very few stayed. either to train, or just using camp as an excuse to stay away from their un-goldy parent.

nothing was different this year as most campers went home. some would say even less stayed at camp this year. three out of the twelve cabins were completely empty.

y/n l/n, daughter of aphrodite, made the choice to stay at camp this year. she couldn't take another year of her younger mortal brother bugging her 24/7 when she was home. her step-mother wasn't a cash prize either. she would always critize y/n, mostly for her looks and mannerisms. yes, y/n, daughter of aphrodite. the prettiest most breathtaking goddess' daughter, was being critized for her looks.

y/n knew she made the better choice once she found out luke castellan was staying at camp as well. the hermes cabin was always full, all year long. so luke found himself inside y/n's cabin more than his own.

this didn't change as luke was currently walking inside the cabin. he was always mesmerized by it. the whole cabin was light pink, with matching pink columns on each side of the porch. it was a taller cabin, having two stories. there were many engravings of cupid and hearts all over the outside walls. it was so different from hermes' all wood, traditional looking cabin.

luke enters the cabin, being met with even more pink. the two couches in the room where white, along with all the other furniture. the cabin was full of mirrors and more engravings of cupid.

"love?" luke called into the cabin. he knew y/n was at camp, he just wasn't sure where.

"upstairs!" y/n yelled. she was sitting at one of the vanity's upstairs, the one she claimed as her own in the summer. it was full of her own things. makeup, trinkets, jewelry – everything really.

luke walked up the short stairway and his heart warmed at the sight of his girlfriend. you heard right, girlfriend. the two camp counselors started dating in the summer of last year. luke protected y/n a bit more than the other campers when she was unclaimed. they didn't drift apart once she moved cabins either, which both were extremely grateful for.

luke took her out on a very cheesy picnic date at the end of summer, before y/n went home. he was nothing but a gentleman the whole time. of course he had to end the date with a kiss, which leads the couple where they are today.

"why aren't you outside with the others? all the apollo campers are putting on a play right now," luke drags an empty chair from another vanity and brings it towards y/n's.

the girl finishes wiping her face, removing the makeup she had on earlier in the day.

"i just wanted a self care day," she answered honestly, "everything just got so overwhelming after lunch."

luke nodded as he undertsood. he knows how loud the camp can be sometimes, even in it's deserted state.

he rested his head on y/n's shoulder and watched through the mirror as she put a green substance all over her face.

"what is that for?" luke asks curiously.

"it's a face mask, it helps clean your pores and help with wrinkles and ache," y/n responds, while rubbing the green mask on her forehead.

"let me do it with you," luke offers.

y/n turns with furrowed eyebrows, "what? why?"

luke shrugs, "it's something cute couples do, isn't it?"

"well, yes i guess so," y/n pauses to smile, "here, sit up straight."

luke does as she says, while the girl grabs the container and stands in between his legs.

luke finally notices she's wearing one of his shirts he must've left in the cabin in one of their many sleepovers. he thought it looked way better on her than it did on him.

the mask was cold when it touched luke's warm skin, making y/n mutter out a few sorry's before continuing. luke had his hands placed on her thigh's gently rubbing circles on her exposed skin. he never understood why she wore shorts as pajamas in the winter.

"why are you looking at me like that?" y/n wonders out loud. she's done putting the face mask on her boyfriend. she sets tge container down and wipes her hands on a towel, before placing her arms over luke's shoulders.

"what? i can't stare at my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend?" the two of them laugh. "i got lucky with you."

y/n blushes, and she swears luke's can see ut under the mask covering her skin.

"and i got lucky with you," y/n tells the hermes boy. she watches his smile only grow.

she then leans down to kiss luke's lips. they're as soft and as warm as ever. she wondered how they were always warm, especially in the winter. her fingers threaded through the curls at the base of his neck, earning a small moan from him. moments pass and y/n's bottom lip was now being pulled between luke's teeth.

y/n pulled away, knowing what luke wanted. she couldn't help but giggle at the whine coming from her boyfriend.

"we might have to get this mask off if we want to go any further, huh?"

y/n only giggled more as luke was quick to run to the cabin bathroom to wash the face mask off his face. y/n was quick to follow and once both of their faces were clean, luke pulled y/n to her bed.

"i love you," luke says in between kisses.

"i love you too," y/n stares at the boy for a moment, with nothing but adoration, before pulling him in for many more kisses.

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #luke castellan #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x aphrodite!reader #pjo #percy jackson #pjo show #pjo tv #pjo tv show #percy jackson and the olympians

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dyaz-stories · 13 days

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you know my tongue is a weapon || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Shoko suggests a study night, but Gojo's bored and he doesn't want to study. So, instead, he offers to play a game, when all the others have left to get some food: every time he gets an answer right, he gets a kiss.

As you soon find out, Gojo can be very good at studying, as long as he gets something out of it.

word count: 3.8k

genre: college!AU, mostly fluff i think

cw: kissing, making out, semi-public kissing, unresolved sexual tension, reader is insecure and is therefore an unreliable narrator, dry humping ig, fem reader (the word girl is used once)

a/n: first time writing for jujutsu and for gojo! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy yourselves :)

soundtrack

prequel

Exam season is never a fun time to be on campus. Stress fills the air, the hallways, the always full libraries, even the coffee shops where people usually meet to relax between two classes. It’s the only conversation subject between sleep-deprived students, looming over their head threateningly at any time of the day and night. It’s stifling, a weight on their chest that never quite wears off.

As for you, well, you’re doing alright.

Oh, for sure, it’s a lot of work, and you’re not thrilled about it by any stretch of the imagination, but academia is your thing, so you don’t find it nearly as crushing as others do. You’re more terrified of the time period that comes afterwards, while you’re waiting for the results like Judgement day.

In the meantime, you’ve given up on trying to find a spot to study in the library, and you’ve been doing most of it in your small student room. You haven’t stepped outside in days when Shoko texts you to suggest a study night. You suspect that she hasn’t started working and intends to cram, but you take her up on the offer nonetheless.

You show up at her place right on time — you always are — with your notes and some snacks. You wait quietly after knocking, trying to make sense of the chatter you hear on the other side of the door. She had mentioned she would ask a few other people if they wanted to join, which you had assumed would be fine, but faced with the reality of it now you can feel a lump growing in your throat. Academia might be easy for you, but people… aren’t.

When the door opens to reveal Gojo Satoru, piercing blue eyes meeting yours through white locks of hair that he pushes out of his face a second later, you fully consider turning around and leaving.

“You made it,” he says, shooting you a wide grin.

“Hi,” you squeak in reply.

Gojo is a… friend. Ish. Kinda. You think. Well, he’s a friend of Shoko’s, anyway, so the two of you have hung out, socially, before. Up until last summer, you assumed he didn’t even know your name.

“Thank God you’re here,” Shoko says, appearing from behind him to grab your hand. “No one here wants to work. We need to whip these imbeciles into shape or something.”

“I’m working,” Nanami sighs from the table in the living room, where he’s sitting alone.

“I was just waiting for everyone to be here, Shoko,” Geto says, his voice soft and even, as he approaches the table.

You set your bag down, giving Nanami an sympathetic smile, and he pushes his glasses higher on his nose. When he nods at you, you’re pretty sure it’s a silent way of saying ‘thank you for not leaving me alone with them’.

“What are you guys starting with?” you ask, pulling some books out of your bag.

Everyone here has different majors, but with some classes in common. You’re not sure how efficient this enterprise is going to be, if you’re completely honest, but as Gojo lets himself fall on a chair with a dramatic sigh, you suppose it can’t be worse than if he was left to his own devices.

“I’m doing literature, algebra and physics tonight!” Haibara announces, perhaps a tad too enthusiastic. You don’t want to crush his hopes and dreams, but—

“You’re never going to get through all that in one night,” Nanami says with a frown.

“Don’t listen to him”, Gojo intervenes, “you can do anything you set your mind to.”

There are stars in Haibara’s eyes when he looks at him, but you notice the glances Gojo is stealing at Nanami, and the way his smile widens when Nanami grits his teeth in annoyance. You bite your lip so you don’t let out a chuckle.

“Do you want to start with literature with me?” you offer. “Nanami, you’ll have to handle algebra because I’m not taking any algebra classes this semester.”

The corner of Nanami’s lips curves to form a smile.

“It’s good that someone here is taking this seriously.”

“Ugh,” Gojo mutters. “Fine. Hey, Suguru, do you know what tests I have next week?”

Nanami buries his head in his hands with a pained groan, and you laugh again, lump gone from your throat now, as you move your chair to come sit next to Haibara. Gojo’s eyes follow your movement silently. When you lean over the same textbook as Haibara, shoulders brushing against his as you push a lock of hair behind your ear, his expression turns thoughtful. It’s only when Geto drops a book in front of him that he snaps out of it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do shots instead?” he asks, tone sour.

“Man, don’t tempt me,” Shoko whines as she sits down as well. “The shots will have to wait.”

Truly, Gojo thinks, sadder words have never been spoken.

Nanami calls it quits right before 10 pm. He’s tried to leave a few times by then, usually because of one of Gojo’s quips, but Shoko’s managed to keep him around until then. It doesn’t help how delighted Gojo gets by his reactions, and you can’t blame him for abandoning you. You don’t doubt for a second that he would have been much more productive without everyone else around.

“If they pass their exams, we should give ourselves all the credit for that,” he comments at your intention, right before walking out the door. “Good luck with them.”

Then he’s gone, before Gojo can start to protest about why he is not getting any encouragements, even though he’s suffering so much, and everyone is mean, and nothing about this is fun, and—

Haibara, despite his best intentions, falls asleep on the couch less than thirty minutes later. It was just supposed to be quick nap, but by midnight he’s still down, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up. Plus it’s not like you were making a lot of progress with him anyway, so he just might be better off sleeping.

It’s not long after that that Shoko starts to get real antsy. So far, she has kept on track despite Gojo’s attempts at distracting her, but you can tell she is starting to get incredibly bored. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to be Gojo’s case, even if the way his leg bounces underneath his chair tells you he’s itching to do anything other than sit here doing nothing.

“Fuck it,” Shoko says, finally giving up. “I’m going to get something to eat.”

Geto frowns.

“Now? Alone?”

“As if anything would happen to her,” Gojo says, spinning a pen between his fingers. “She’ll be the scariest person out there.”

Geto rolls his eyes.

“I’ll come with you,” he tells Shoko, and she shrugs. “Do you want to come too, Satoru?”

Gojo lets himself fall down on his chair, looking at Geto with his head hanging behind the back of the chair.

“Nah,” he says after a few seconds of intense deliberation. “Can’t abandon the teacher here.”

You feel your face heating up.

“Oh, I mean, I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you want to go, you should—”

“It’s fine,” he handwaves your protests away. “I’ll finally get some work done without Shoko here to constantly distract me with—”

He bursts out laughing when Shoko throws her pen at him.

“We’ll be right back,” she announces, standing up. “You,” she points at Gojo, “play nice. And you,” she gives you a severe look, “don’t hesitate to hit him. I’m not joking.”

She leaves the room, escorted by Geto. Haibara doesn’t even stir when the door slams.

“Alright,” Gojo says, not wasting a second to reach for your chair so he can pull you closer to him, “it’s my turn to get my own personal tutor.” His fingers brush against your leg as he pulls you in, and you know, from how his eyes seem to drink in everything about you, that he doesn’t miss your quiet gasp nor the way your breath quickens. You’ve noticed this before, too. If he likes annoying Nanami, he seems to delight in your reactions at least as much — though he tries to make you laugh or to fluster you rather than piss you off.

“Um,” you say, with the eloquence that characterizes you around him, “what do you need help with?”

He tilts his head to the side as he studies you. You find him breathtaking, you always do, but you think you’ve gotten better at hiding it, so even if it feels like he’s looking right into your soul, you give him an easy smile.

Somehow, he is the one who ends up averting his eyes.

“How about philosophy?”

Right, the two of you share that one class on the history of ideas.

“Sure,” you say, already grabbing a book and thumbing through it. “I’ve taken quite a few notes for that class, actually, I can give them to you if you—”

“That’s boring,” he interrupts you. “We should do something else.”

You put down your book, intrigued, and something twists in your stomach when you see the look he’s giving you. He’s like a cat with a mouse, with exactly the same hunger in his eyes.

“What—” you clear your throat when your voice cracks. “What are you suggesting?”

“Well,” he leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and putting his chin in his palm, “I need an incentive to work, you know?”

You swallow. Sure.

“So how ‘bout I get a kiss for every right answer I give you?”

And you almost choke on air.

“What?” you manage to croak. Blood is rushing to your face, and it feels like your brain is short-circuiting. Your heart’s beating faster, hammering in your chest, and you feel your palms grow sweaty.

“C’mon,” he teases, reaching out to pull on a lock of your hair and twirl it around his finger, and you know, you know, he knows he’s got you right where he wants to, “help me study.”

“Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he all but purrs.

“Satoru,” you say, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” he blinks innocently. “Just trying to find a fun way to study.”

You examine him carefully, try to figure out what, exactly, is going on behind these beautiful eyes of his. You’ve had— moments, with him. He fell asleep on your shoulder in the car once. He held your hand through a busy festival, teasing you about not wanting you to get lost, and later helped you get on his shoulders so you’d get a better view of the stage. The one time you agreed to accompany Shoko to the club, you remember his hands on your hips, his breath against your ear, the ghost of his lips to your neck. But nothing actually happened between the two of you. You’d told yourself that it was all a distraction for him, that he didn’t want more.

This isn’t exactly confirmation. You don’t doubt that it’s all in good fun still, and knowing you, and how hard you tend to fall, you should walk away while you have the chance.

But you really, really want to kiss him. Want to know what it would feel like to taste his lips, to have his body pressed against yours, to feel his hands all over you.

You always take the smart decision. This is not the smart decision. But…

“What if you get it wrong?” you ask.

Satoru blinks.

“You can, uh, spray me with a water bottle?”

You let out a brief laugh.

“Isn’t that a dog thing? That feels unethical, Satoru.”

He preens at your use of his name.

“You should take your chance,” he drawls. “Shoko says it’s really cathartic.”

You’re not sure you need catharsis, but you feel a little lighter now. It’s all a joke to him, clearly, and from what you’ve seen in the past couple of hours, he hasn’t seriously studied once. He’s not going to get the answers right. You don’t think he’s even trying to.

“Fine,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, reaching out for a water bottle and positioning your chair so you’re facing him. “Who came up with the notion of civil disobed—"

“Thoreau, 1848, but the essay was republished with that name in 1866.”

You stare. Gojo gives you a lazy smile.

“Now where’s my kiss?”

“Um,” you say. You feel incredibly awkward now. He’s leaning back against his chair, with eyes that have not left you once since he’s suggested that idea. You— have to move, now, don’t you?

Very slowly, very hesitantly, you push yourself to your feet. Satoru doesn’t move at all, and you don’t know if it relieves you or stresses you out even more. The position is quite uncomfortable, too, with you standing and him sitting down. You don’t know that you’ve ever towered over him like that. Gingerly, you put a hand on his shoulder, and then you’re leaning over him, and then you’re kissing him, and then you’re moving away as fast as you can. This was just a peck, really, a press of your lips to his that lasted a second, tops, and that you’re already trying to forget about.

You’re not a teenager anymore, and you know this shouldn’t be getting to you that much, but it’s— it’s Satoru Gojo. You’ve worked very, very hard not to think of him like that, because you didn’t want to let yourself get hurt. And now, you’ve let yourself be dragged into this so easily? Ugh. You wish you could slap yourself.

“Okay,” you say, voice more high-pitched than you’d like, but still understandable, which you’re grateful for. “Next, um, can you explain what philosopher kings are?”

Surely—

“Of course,” Satoru pretty much sing-songs. “Plato thought that cities should be ruled by trained philosophers, because only a philosopher would know and act for the good of a city.” There’s a brief pause, before he adds, “Aristotle thought that was bullshit, though. For the record.”

And then he waits. You narrow your eyes at him.

“When did you study for that?”

“I never study,” he answers lightly.

Instead of standing up this time, you scoot your chair closer to him, and you lean forward. Satoru chuckles, but humors you — even if the temptation of leaning further back to make you come to him, because you’re just adorable when you’re flustered, is great. This time, when you kiss him, though, he presses forward before you can move away, his nose brushing against your cheek as he chases after you. And oh, what a sight you are after that, wide eyed, lips parted, hands tightening on your notes.

“Next?” he asks.

“Right,” you say. You’re— not sure what’s happening here, to be quite honest. Should you stop this? You— don’t think you want to, but you’re also not sure what this charade is all about. “Um. Spinoza thought that free will—”

“—could only be reached through knowledge, and that most people never obtained it.”

Okay.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a physics major?”

He raises an eyebrow, looking genuinely amused.

“Determinism’s a pretty big deal in science, actually, but let’s not change the subject here.”

You bite your lower lip, and his eyes track the movement like he’s starving for you.

You’re feeling hot all over, anticipation burning inside of you, and this time, you can’t pretend that he hasn’t done this on purpose. That he wanted to kiss you. You can’t quite reconcile the way you see yourself with that thought — how could Gojo Satoru want you, of all people? — but you find that it doesn’t matter.

You lean towards him once more, and this time, you let yourself kiss him. Really kiss him. You press your lips to his, soft at first, but when you don’t move away immediately, you feel him pressing against you, one hand coming to cup your cheek. His teeth pull at your bottom lip, and you let out a involuntary gasp. He doesn’t waste the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, and you keep inching closer to him, hands coming to his shoulders for support. You can feel yourself melt into him, and you curse your common sense when it leads you to break away from the kiss.

It doesn’t deter Satoru, though, because as you do, his hand slides under your knee, and next thing you know, he’s pulled you into his lap. His face is deliciously flushed, pink hue under the pale skin. He looks up at you, long fingers tightening around your thighs.

“We should waste less time like that,” he says.

Shoko likes to say he’s insufferable, and you can see why. Everything all seems to come so easy to him, and you’re defenseless against the way your heart races. When his eyes are on you, it feels like you’re the only person in the world. You’re not usually the type to indulge in that idea, but, ah, what’s the harm, as long as you know how to come back to earth later on?

You shake your head as you take him in.

“How are you even doing that?” you ask, mildly peeved.

“Haven’t you heard?” he grins widely. “I’m a genius.”

You roll your eyes at him. You’ve heard about that, of course, about how he maintains stellar grades without breaking a sweat. You just hadn’t seen that in application until now. In class, he’s usually asleep, or taking great joy in bothering the teacher. You’ve never seen him try to get something.

“Well, where’s my question?”

You sigh, putting your arms around his neck. You left your notes on the table, meaning that you might be less prepared than he is, actually.

“Descartes famously said—”

“Cogito ergo sum. C’mon, rational doubt is at the heart of science. I’m starting to think you’re just trying to kiss me.”

You do want to kiss him, but you have the self-control to shrug.

“Well, if you don’t want to—”

His mouth is on yours before you can think of how to end that sentence. He kisses you hungrily, hands gripping your hips as he tries to pulls you closer to him. Your chest presses into his, and you tighten your hold around him, fingers running through his hair. He grunts when you pull on it slightly, tilts his head back a little more to give you better access to his mouth, and when his tongue brushes against yours once more, you can’t help but to rock your hips against his. The friction makes you gasp into his mouth, and one of your hands falls down to his shoulder, fisting his shirt as you try to find better support.

“Fuck,“ you hear him mumble underneath you, right as you feel him grow hard. He pushes up against you. His fingers dig into your skin, one hand slipping under your shirt to run over your skin, leaving a trail of fire behind. It moves higher, brushing against your bra.

Against your better judgement, your hands travel down his body, tracing over his muscles. You feel him twitch under you, and when you roll your hips once more, with much more intent than the first time, he groans.

“Satoru,” you whisper, though even you don’t know if it’s a plea for him to stop or to keep going.

His eyes widen, and you feel him lift you up easily, pushing you onto the table. You lean back slightly, resting your weight on one hand. He’s red all over now, from his ears to his neck. His pupils are wide, his lips swollen, his hair messy. He looks like sin.

You don’t want to think about what you look like.

“C’mon,” he says. “Last question.”

“Haibara’s in the living room,” you point out. Even you know where this is leading.

“He’s dead asleep,” he merely shrugs. He’s mesmerizing, but you note that the glimmer of amusement that always dances in his eyes. This feels— serious.

“Um,” you say, licking your lips and watching how he bites his as his grip on your waist tightens once more — like he’s holding himself back. “Confucius—”

And then, the front door opens.

Gojo clicks his tongue and reluctantly steps back as you jump down from the table, beelining for the bathroom — you know that kiss is written all over your face.

You glare at yourself in the mirror. Your body’s still tingling, and you’re aching with want, now that release has been denied to you, but you know better. You’re supposed to know better. You take a few seconds to comb through your hair with your hands, and when it no longer looks like someone’s, well, kissed you senseless, you cautiously step back outside.

“We got you some fuel,” Shoko announces loudly, before getting shushes by Geto. He points in Haibara’s direction, who’s started snoring slightly.

“Thank you so much,” you say sweetly. “I’ll— Why are you wet?”

Gojo deadpans as he looks at you but, well, there’s water dripping from his hair, down his chin, and onto the shirt your hands were fisted in just a few minutes earlier, so, you think the question is valid.

“He was splashing water on his face when we got here,” Geto supplies helpfully. “Gojo runs hot.”

“And now it’s all over my floor,” Shoko mutters. “Next time, just wait ‘til the bathroom’s free, huh?”

Gojo looks like he has something to say just on the tip of his tongue, but he glances at you and seems to swallow it back.

“If anything, I made it cleaner,” he proclaims, leaning back on his chair. “Shoko, how long has it been since you cleaned in here? We really need to find you a partner who’s willing to do that stuff, otherwise you’ll keep living in fil—”

Shoko’s pencil case lands right in the middle of his face.

“You absolute brat,” she spits out, “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to tell me something like that when you rely exclusively on Geto to—”

The bickering continues, but you tune it out. Under the table, Satoru’s knee brushes against yours. It’s almost hesitant at first, before he leans his leg against yours, when he realizes you’re not moving away. This isn’t the smart choice, either, but, ah, you’re always, always the smart girl. Is it so bad to have a night of fun? Is it so bad that you want to know what it would feel like to have him, even if it’s just once?

He’ll break your heart, the voice of reason says in the back of your mind, but then Satoru looks back at you, checking to see if you’re laughing at how he’s making fun of Shoko and, well.

You think you’ll let him.

Any and all feedback in the form of asks, reblogs, comments, tags is highly encouraged and appreciated~ If you enjoy my work, interactions are what keep me writing and motivated!

I haven't written anything in months and I think it shows but, well, I have to restart somewhere lol, so I hope it was still fun for you and you enjoyed yourselves here for a little while. Thank you for reading <3

prequel

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #my writing #gojo imagine #jjk x y/n

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hashtagloveloses · 5 months

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ok so i figured out why the songs in the new disney movie Wish suck so bad - for the movie celebrating 100 years of mostly animated movie MUSICALS, they didn’t get a songwriter who writes MUSICALS. they got two POP songwriters (Julia Michaels and Benjamin Rice, who’ve written for a lot of big stars like Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez, etc). despite lin-manuel’s faults, that man can cook up a song and had won a tony even before hamilton. there’s a reason moana and encanto went crazy. the anderson-lopezes made frozen and frozen II a HIT. maybe if they didnt have them chained to a desk writing two more frozen movies they could’ve worked on Wish instead. the ICON alan menken completed his EGOT from the daytime emmy he won for writing a song just for the tangled TV SERIES in 2020, and they couldnt even get him back?! for the movie celebrating 100 years of animated musicals?!!!

one of the directors of the film is Chris Buck, who did Tarzan - that movie only really has one or MAYBE two songs sung by the characters, and is mostly a soundtrack by Phil Collins instead. but thats a FULL soundtrack that was supposed to be pop the whole way through, not a musical.

one of the only times they got a pop songwriter to do an animated musical was Elton John for the Lion King, but he went on to write several popular musicals after that.

they got a big Broadway star like Ariana Debose, and a big Hollywood star who can really sing like Chris Pine, on that movie and gave them POP composers? for the 100th anniversary? this is the studio that made HAMLET WITH LIONS and a BOOK BY VICTOR HUGO into legendary animated musicals. what the FUCK happened? which executive made this stupid ass choice?

#original post #disney wish #disney #the mouse #i feel like i cracked the code

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otsanda · 8 months

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So @sayuri-of-the-valley and I were talking about the music in Good Omens 2 and particularly the similarities and differences in the music that happens 'Before the Beginning' (that's the song title) and at The Kiss (that's not the song title) and I have accidentally developed Theories and had Thoughts, so I’m gonna share them in case anyone else wants to weigh in.

First of all, the general musical structure is similar. They are both dramatic moments that start quietly, grow to a powerful crescendo at the Big Moment, and then resolve more quietly again, but with subtle changes that make them feel very different. Without actually going through and checking it, they sound to be at roughly the same tempo (around 140 BPM) and comparable time signatures.

Now, I'm treating these two dramatic moments and the surrounding music as two songs, although in the soundtrack the music surrounding The Kiss is actually divided into two songs itself: I Forgive You and Don't Bother, so that's. Fine. I'm normal about that. I'm sure dividing that in half doesn't Mean Anything at all. I'm NORMAL about it!!! Ah... anyways.

The instrumentation for both Before the Beginning and The Kiss is also very similar. Both songs start with orchestral winds and strings and add a powerful choral part (on the same pure round vowel sound, no less!) on the big crescendo. Both add orchestral chimes (bells) for that epic religious feel. Both the nebula creation and the kiss were a revelation. Something like a religious experience.

And then both songs resolve featuring wind and strings again, among other instruments. The "after" part of both songs also features more pitched percussion (harp, maybe a celesta, glockenspiel, possibly a dulcimer or some other fun, ethereal pitched percussion in Before the Beginning, but interestingly a piano in Don't Bother). Ouch. That hurts.

Now, to me: the piano is possibly representing the nightingale, Crowley and Aziraphale's love of Earth and humanity, whereas the glockenspiel and etc. may be more representative of heaven. Just a guess. I would have to do more careful listening for a more solid theory.

I don’t have perfect pitch so it’s hard to tell without getting out my instruments or transcribing the piece, but I’m willing to bet ‘I Forgive You’ is in the relative minor key to Before the Beginning’s mostly major key (I *think* ‘Before the Beginning’ might be mostly in the key of C major and ‘I Forgive You’ in A minor, but I could be wrong). Regardless, the former is major and the latter is more minor, but otherwise a lot of the chord structures, especially at the big moment, sound very similar.

More on instrumentation: ‘Before the Beginning’ uses more (ethereal?) flutes in the wind sections and The Kiss uses more reed-based, (earthy?) winds like clarinet, bassoon, oboe, etc. Different feel, but the same kind of structure. Both moments heavily feature a big string section for the nice full orchestral sound.

Before the Beginning has a lot going on musically before the crescendo and it intentionally feels kind of chaotic and unformed bc each instrument family is doing something a little different, building anticipation, etc. and then at the big crescendo, they all come together. Very powerful. Then after the crescendo, we get a subtle, playful reprise/variation of the Good Omens Main Theme. The strings and the winds are no longer entirely together at this point. They’re sort of playing off one another, leaving space. Having a conversation.

By comparison, in ‘I Forgive You’ the wind/strings start off playing together, in a sad version of unison before the crescendo (they both knew the conversation they were having wasn’t going to end well but they fundamentally *understand* one another now; they’ve been talking for millions of years). And AFTER the crescendo of The Kiss, the song ‘Don’t Bother’ DROPS the majority of the string section and gives the melody to a solo violin (alone!!!!). Even worse (better) the strings and the woodwinds and pitched percussion are no longer playing together. This time, they aren’t even having a conversation. They’re musically doing a separate lines. It feels extremely lonely (because it is). The violin is very exposed. The piano is very exposed. Even the chorus sounds exposed (smaller group of singers?). This ALSO includes a reprise/variation on the main GO theme, but instead of being playful it’s extremely sad (as though you didn't notice). The rest of the orchestra is still there, providing background, but it's not the same.

The Biggest Decision (the song after Don't Bother) has a lot more of those ethereally coded instruments again. Harp, pitched percussion. Full string section. Angelic chorus. Aziraphale is making the hardest/worst decision to return to heaven.

And to round it out, once we get to "The End?" we are back to piano. Our duo is separated. Now in place of the solo violin we have solo cello and piano. Gutting. We get notes of the ethereal celesta (I think). The piano keeps us grounded, but cello is a big focus. We also get more of that haunting chorus and violin runs. And then we end with solo piano playing the same 5-note run three times. Alone. After every other instrument has dropped out. Very lonely.

Just for fun, (and to end on a slightly more positive note), I went back and listened to the ox rib music as well, which was surprisingly consistent with some of my theories from up above and also not on the soundtrack so although I'm sure it has a name, I certainly don't know it.

In the ox rib section, there are more instruments before the first big moment (when Aziraphale tries the food) that are going back and forth. Again it sounds to me like they’re having a conversation… tempting and being tempted. Winds and strings (strings are tremoloing like at the kiss for that sweet, sweet tension), but also brass instruments. We have some more ethereal sounding pitched percussion, especially *before* he tries the food but afterwards it... switches to piano! Like I said: Earth!!!

The choir is on a different vowel altogether for this part (more aggressive and ominous, a taller Ah instead of a round Oh/Aw like the first two musical moments). The choir is also much more rhythmic. Again, increasing tension. And, of course, after he tries the food the music supports the tension of the scene by gradually building, getting louder and bigger after the key moment has already passed. It's super interesting that Aziraphale trying the food is actually quite quiet, but the music grows quickly afterwards. Sort of the inverse of how the other two scenes play out musically! Fascinating!!

Anyways, let me know what you think I got wrong and what I missed and if I thought something was a celesta when it was actually a glockenspiel or something. I am thrilled and devastated by this incredible music.

#Good Omens #Good Omens 2 #Good Omens Soundtrack #Good Omens music #David Arnold #Neil Gaiman #Good Omens meta #I have so much more I could say #but believe it or not this was the condensed version #also the strings used two types of tremolo which is neat #did I detect some col legno in there as well?#god I love orchestral music #Also I think there was mandolin or some other kind of picked tremolo in Before the Beginning #I love to see it... or hear it I guess

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alastheswarmleaderhasescaped · 1 month

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BIONICLE music fans, I need your help

Remember that I once wrote a funky BIONICLE Suite using themes from multiple movies/games etc., for an assignment? If not, it's here:

youtube

(here is the post on my dedicated music blog @transcriptions-of-unknown-music btw)

This suite is very dear to me: I scored top marks in my Arranging class with it, and later won a conducting audition with it. And now, in about a year or so, I will be getting the chance to perform it with a professional symphony orchestra. Like a full orchestra instead of the weird ensemble it was originally written for.

BUT

I need to reinstrumentate it, of course, but that also means that I can update it. The original assignment had a time limit of four minutes; this time I don't have that restriction, so I can basically do whatever the fuck I want.

And this is where I need the fandom's help.

I have a pretty solid base idea of what to do with it, but I want to put in as many nods to the width of BIONICLE as possible. The original suite was based on the music of the first three movies with motifs from mostly the MNOGs thrown in, because those are what mostly marked my personal BIONICLE experience, but BIONICLE is more than that. It's also the GBA games, the console games, the songs, the commercials, the online episodes, the later flash games, the Piraka rap, the singing squid, and so on. Which brings me to what I need you all for:

Please let me know your favourite BIONICLE music!

It could be literally anything; from an entire game soundtrack to just the drum rhythm during one specific section of a game. I'd love to know what BIONICLE music you love or is important to you!

What will I do with this information?

Currently I'm already working on gathering motifs and soundtracks into one musical book, transcribing them into notes and bringing them down to their core elements. This will serve as my vocabulary, of sorts: if I have a collection of themes at my disposal, it will be much easier to see if and how they fit together.

Here is an example of a piece from the Templar episodes that I 'collected': (it sounds off because it's MIDI, but what I did here was write down the actual notes so I can transcribe it for other musicians)

youtube

Please don't hesitate to let me know your favourite BIONICLE music (and also feel free to tell why a certain piece is important to you)! There is no time limit to this; you may always reblog or reply to this post, and my ask box is also open!

Hope you all can help me make this a real community thing, showing our Unity!

#bionicle #lego bionicle #mnog #mnog ii #Youtube

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jeonbunnie · 9 months

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promises

pairing: reader x namjoon

summary: marriage life with namjoon hasn’t been the same lately. he’s been cold and distant, always whispering on the phone. and you can’t help but notice…

genre: angst, drama, choose your own adventure,

content/warnings: established relationship; married!au; idol!namjoon; cheating/infidelity; implied sex; eventual smut; explicit sex

soundtrack: lemonade by beyoncé

a/n: this used to be a series but I decided to rework it into a oneshot. The plot is mostly the same, however now the reader gets to choose the big decision at the end (kind of like a choose your own adventure). This is one of the endings, if you want to read from the beginning, start here.

word count: 375

Leave Him

When Namjoon wakes up the next morning–you’re not by his side.

At first, Namjoon is too tired to comprehend what it means to not feel your warmth pressed up against him. But as soon as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he realized he was waking from a dream into a nightmare.

You weren’t by his side.

On his bedside table something glinted in the dark. And when his eyes adjusted to the moonlight, he noticed the silver ring set with the diamonds on your wedding band, the one that used to belong on your finger and a note.

Just like that everything stopped. Namjoon couldn't breathe, couldn't think as he reached for the paper with your handwriting on it.

It’s over, Namjoon.

Three little words and his whole word collapsed.

No, no, no.

Namjoon started to panic. Rushing out of bed, he slid on a t-shirt and sweats to search for you. He looks for you everywhere. In the bathroom. In the hallway. Gone. He ran downstairs, fast. Heart full of dread. But still looking, still hoping.

You weren’t in the living room.

Or in the kitchen.

Your purse and your keys on the counter were gone, too. Not even your car was parked out front.

You are nowhere to be found. You’re gone.

Gone, gone, gone.

And it was all his fault.

Namjoon dropped onto the couch and pressed his hands to his eyes tight. So tight that he saw flashes of color, but even that didn’t stop the tears from stinging his eyes. Namjoon knew he was undeserving of you. That this was the punishment he deserved for hurting you. He wished you knew how sorry he was. The regret that he felt.

He was not the same man who cheated on you, who made those bad choices. That man was a coward who chose to run from his marriage instead of towards it. He was afraid to come to you then, and now, now that was all he wanted. How he wished he didn’t hurt you. That you knew how much he wanted this marriage. He’d give anything for it. But that was all over now...Getting you back was impossible.

He’d lost the love of his life.

#bts fic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fic #namjoon scenarios #bts fanfic #fic: promises #Poc reader #songfic #my fics.🍪

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winniethewife · 2 months

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I walked with you once upon a dream

(William "Ironhead" Miller x F!reader)

Words: 539

A/N: For the Triple Frontier Write-a-Thon.

Will’s phone was ringing, the caller Id flashing that it was the woman he had been dating for just a few weeks. He was hesitant to call her his girlfriend, they hadn’t really talked about it yet. He reaches for his phone and slides to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Will! Thank god you answered. I hate to bother you, but my car broke down on my way home from work and I need help. I don-” he could hear the tell tale whimper of tears in her voice and acted instinctively, interrupting her with a gently soothing voice. “Just send me your location, I’ll be right there.” He says with a reassuring tone, he could hear her sigh with relief on the other end of the line,

“Thank you so much. I owe you one.” She sounds significantly calmer when he hangs up the phone. When he gets her location he’s surprised because she shows up not so far from a suburban neighborhood. He thought she would be somewhere near town, but he realizes, he has no idea what she does for a living. As he gets into his car he ponders the possibilities. Is she a house cleaner? A Nanny? Door to door sales-woman? Will feels a little embarrassed, he hadn’t even asked her what she did for a living. He tried to rack his brain for anything that she might have said, not coming up with a single thing she had said. He pulls up behind her on the side of the road and gets out of his car. As he walks up to her door he was wracking his brain for a way to ask her what she does when he sees what she’s wearing. A full on ball gown, and a tiara. Will does a double take, this was not what he was expecting at all. She rolls down her window.

“Hey, thanks so much, I didn’t know who else to call.” She says with a smile.

“No problem…princess.” He says with a slight laugh before looking her over. “I will admit, I’m a little surprised to see you…dressed like that.”

“Oh, god. I forgot I hadn’t told you. I work for a party princess company.” She says as if that will explain everything to him. He looks at her puzzled.

“And that is?” he asks as he leans on her car looking at her.

“I get hired to dress as a princess and show up to kids birthday parties.” She explains. “Sometimes other events too, but mostly parties, hence Party princess,”

“Ah, I didn’t even know that was a thing you could do…” Will smiles and rubs the back of his head sheepishly. After getting under the hood and figuring out that this was not something he could fix on the side of the road they called roadside assistance and as they waited for the tow truck to some he asked her several questions about her job and she happily answered them. After the tow truck came Will drove her home. As he pulled up in front of her place she leans over and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you…prince charming.” She says with a cheeky smile. He chuckles slightly.

“Anything for my damsel in distress.”

Masterlist

Tag: @triplefrontier-anniversary @romanarose

#triplefrontier2019 #triplefrontier #triple frontier #x reader #Spotify #triple frontier fic #william miller #will miller #William “Ironhead” Miller #William Ironhead Miller #William Ironhead Miller x reader #female reader #william miller x reader #will miller x reader #will miller x you #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnman x reader #Charlie hunnman fan fic #x fem!reader

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aninventoryofthepossible · 10 months

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Inspirations for VOID 1680 AM

Earlier this year, I released a new solo TTRPG: VOID 1680 AM. In it, you use a deck of cards, a six-sided die, your music collection and a voice recorder to create your own late-night radio show.

The cards help you dig deep into your collection to reconnect with music you love; they and the die also help you create anonymous Callers and the concerns, hopes and obsessions that drove them to reach out to you, a fellow lone voice in the darkness.

I also included steps for joining the library of Callers for other players to use, and even to submit your full show for broadcast on the "real" VOID 1680 AM. You can see some of those Affiliate broadcasts here. They're genuinely very cool.

You can check out the game here, and I'm proud to say VOID 1680 AM is now a Judges' Spotlight Winner in this year's ENNIES.

Okay, enough table-setting. Let's get into it.

VOID was the culmination of a lifelong obsession with commercial radio; both the technology (which feels retro despite scarcely being over a century old) and the melancholy romance of lonesome voices baring themselves to an audience they'll never know the scope of.

This, to me, is an apt metaphor for the act of making something - anything at all. Speak into the Void, the back cover copy says. You never know who is listening. So it is with putting something you love into the world.

So what inspired VOID? I cite both Anamnesis by Sam Leigh and The Wretched by Chris Bissette in the book itself, two solo RPGs whose tones and methods did much to help me find my own.

But if I'm being truthful, VOID's inspirations mostly reside outside of games. Here are a few things that haunted me profoundly enough to drive me to respond.

The first is Talk Radio, specifically Oliver Stone's adaptation of Eric Bogosian's play. The movie's tagline is "the last neighborhood in America," which to me frames radio's persistent relevance and puts social media - often called a "town square" itself - in proper context as one piece of the many ways people find connection with others, for better or worse.

Contra the VOID DJ, Barry in Talk Radio is very, very aware of how his audience receives him (hint: not well). Barry must be heard, and so must the similarly damaged souls who call in to dump the poison in their brain into his... and everyone who's listening in, besides. It's a host of people who want to connect but don't know how, spiraling in decaying orbit around each other until something awful happens.

VOID 1680 AM was originally much darker before I decided to pull back and let players pick their own tone, and Talk Radio is why.

Oxenfree is a narrative video game about a small group of teens stuck on an island haunted by hungry ghosts who can be tuned in and out of reality with handheld radios. There's more to it than that, but I'll leave you to discover what on your own - because I would recommend this game to just about anyone.

Insofar as VOID 1680 AM can have a "soundtrack," it is this one by scntfc, created using WWII-era radio equipment.

The Vast of Night is a quietly alarming lo-fi/sci-fi set in a small town in New Mexico in the late '50s. A radio DJ and a switchboard operator pick up strange signals, and then... things happen.

This specific radio station (stylized in the poster above) is what I picture for "my" VOID 1680 AM.

Then there's Stevie in The Fog, played by Adrienne Barbeau. She's the bridge between VOID 1680 AM and my earlier solo game, Lighthouse at the End of the World.

She is, yes: a late night DJ. And her radio station is, yes: in a lighthouse. She's living my dream, at least until the ghost pirates show up.

Spoilers, I guess?

But the most important influence? VOID 1680 AM cover artist Jordan Witt's fan art for the podcast King Falls AM years ago. This image took up residence in my head, so much so that I still use it as phone wallpaper despite never having listened to the show it's for.

When it came time to partner with a cover artist, who that cover artist would be was never in question. Entirely unknowingly, Jordan took all these loose ideas in my head and gave them something to cohere to. A beacon, if you will.

They spoke something into the Void, and I listened.

Fun fact: Jordan even jazzed up the original logo I made for VOID 1680 AM when that title only applied to the AM transmitter in my garage. Here's my original - you can plainly see the influence of Jordan's art on that O. It all really came full circle.

Those are the biggest ingredients in the stew that made VOID 1680 AM. It's fun to talk about stuff I like, but also I hope it might nudge someone - anyone - to get going on something they're after.

(That's you. I'm talking about you.)

A project finding its voice is a wonderful thing, but there's no real miracle to it, no outside influence that will tell you what to do. It's just things in your head magnetizing to each other until they got a shape that - with coaxing - can stand on its own.

See you on the dial.

#indie ttrpg #ttrpg design #solo ttrpg #void 1680 am

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elisysd · 1 month

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7. It's always one step forward and three steps back

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: 1 step forward, 3 steps back - Olivia Rodrigo

Warm. You were intensely warm. You started to move a little in the very comfortable bed, not wanting to open your eyes yet. You snuggled deeper into your pillow before feeling it moving and something pulling you closer. Your eyes fluttered open. It took a few seconds for you to register your environment and suddenly you understood. Your pillow was a very strong chest, moving in sync to his breathing. And what pulled you closer was his arm, snaked around your waist. And now, you were very awake and conscious of each of your movements. You felt panic wash over you and you almost jumped out of bed, waking up Charles in the process. You didn’t even look at him, throwing a jumper on yourself and putting a sweatpant over your pair of shorts.

“Y/N? What the hell?” Charles mumbled, getting up as well to come closer to you.

“Mistake. Fucking, stupid mistake. You and me. In that bed. How can I be so stupid?” you frantically replied, getting your suitcases and making your way to the door, only to be stopped by Charles, grabbing your arm and forcing you to face him.

“Nothing happened. We just slept. Nothing more. We just invaded each other's spaces, it happens. It doesn’t mean a thing. Just calm down.” he reassured you.

“It’s… still. It’s unprofessional. From my side. We work in the same environment, it’s wrong. Wrong on so many levels…”

“You’re overthinking this.”

“Quite the opposite actually, I think I’m the one seeing the situation in a clear way.” you contradicted him.

“Okay, fine, if you say so. And where are you going to go?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, making you blush at the sight.

“I… I’ll figure it out.” you stuttered.

He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“You can keep the room.. I’ll stay with Joris.” he simply said.

You could see that you hurt him somehow and it made your heart ache. It was the last thing you wanted.

“I don’t want to kick you out of your room… especially when you so kindly offered me to stay…”

You could almost see the wheels in his head turning full speed.

“Well… you did tell me that you could show me around. What do you think about spending the day together, so you can calm down, and at the end of it, if you still want to leave, I’ll make the arrangements.”

You nodded. You just hoped it wouldn't end in a disaster.

You started with a coffee in Central Park and as you walked down the paths, you found it surprisingly easy how the awkwardness of the morning had vanished. You talked about many things, mostly mundane and about your hobbies. He learned how much you liked photography, something he was trying to get himself into, he told you all about piano and how it was relaxing him when he was not racing. He talked about his family a lot and how spending quality time with them was everything to him. Around lunch you end up in a little Italian restaurant and the conversation was still flowing easily between you.

“I love fashion. I know it doesn’t look like it but I would love to have my own brand one day. I want to design things.”

“At least, when it happens, it will be your own disastrous fashion attempts. You won’t be able to hide behind a brand.” you teased him as he threw bread crumbs on your face to annoy you.

“What would be your biggest dream activity? And you can’t tell me that you are already living it.” he asked and you paused, taking your time to answer.

“I think I would love to have a podcast. I would love to have conversations with people who work in the shadows, you know.”

“What is stopping you?”

“My job. I can’t start another activity that could potentially create a conflict with what I’m already doing. So… maybe one day, far away in the future.” you explained.

“You would be amazing as a host.”

It stopped you dead in your tracks and you looked at him. He was serious, there was no humor in his reply, no judgment, just a genuine trust in your abilities.

“Thank you… it means a lot.”

“You might be insufferable from time to time but you know how to make people comfortable. Even if it’s to make them relive their worst nightmares.” he winked.

You kept talking that day, getting to know each other on a deeper level, far away from the tracks and the image both of you had to keep up. And it felt nice. You laughed, he teased you, you talked about your lives, you talked about what you loved and what kept you up at night. Later as the moon was high in the sky and you were coming back to your hotel, Charles told you that you could keep his room.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m going to the Yankees’ game tomorrow. Would you like to join? I might need someone to explain the rules to me.”

“I would love to.”

And the next day was probably one of the best days for you in a long time. You got along quite well with his brothers and friends and the day went by in a blink of an eye. As you were about to part ways in the lobby, he turned to you.

“I had a really nice time here with you.”

“Me too.” you smiled.

“Does that mean that we are friends now?” he shyly asked.

“And I would be more than happy to be your friend, Charles.”

He didn’t intend to, but the warm feeling in his chest made him make a step forward and engulf you in a hug, which you reciprocated to his surprise. He stuttered, looked at you and you noticed how his cheeks were starting to get more and more pink as you could feel your do the same.

“Well, good night… See you around? In Imola?” he said.

“Most definitely.”

Coming back to Paris after the wonderful break that New-york had been for you felt weird and soon you caught up in your daily routine, except that texting Charles was now a new addition to it. You were going through editorial board meetings after editorial board meetings, preparing the next races with Jean and Marion as well as Isabel and Morgan who were part of the team but weren’t joining you on race weekends. You liked to work with everyone, they felt like a second family to you. But in between meetings and during each coffee break you couldn’t help but text Charles. Whether it was about a stupid doubt in your mind about reglementation or a quick question about how his day was going, you were always shocked to see how fast he was replying to you, no matter how busy he was. This unexpected friendship felt nice and might have been exactly what you needed at this point in your life.

“Who are you texting that makes you smile like that?” Jean asked, an espresso in her hand as you just got out of a quick editorial briefing.

“No one in particular…” you bit your lips.

“A boyfriend?”

“Oh gosh no. I mean, he is a friend. I suppose.”

“You suppose? Shouldn't you be sure?”

“It’s… Can I ask you something personal?”

“Of course.” Jean reassured you.

“You are friends with some drivers, right? How do you do that to not impact your job?”

Jean looked at you as your leg started to bounce from anxiety.

“Well… I’ve never really got to think about that. It came quite naturally. When you love your job and are passionate about it, I think it’s easy. As long as you don’t overthink the way you do your job, that you stick to the reasons that led you to choose this life, then it’s easy. It becomes harder if you start to have strong bonds with some. I was close to Jules Bianchi and his family, I still am. I was there when he got into his crash. It was probably the toughest and most traumatizing experience in my career.”

“How did you do it?”

“You stick to the facts. No less and no more. You do what you know best and you stick to it.”

“Do you regret it? Becoming friends with Jules, I mean…”

“Never. Besides being a great source of information, I got to learn so many things by his side and meet other people. It’s all about finding balance. You know, when you’re in the paddock, browsing for information, asking questions… you’re not totally the same person as you are out of there. You have a mask of professionalism. The drivers are the same.”

And he was right. You had observed it with Charles. And he had already told you how different you were from your journalist persona. Maybe Jean was right and overthinking the situation would only create issues where they weren’t needed.

On your way home that day, you had decided that you would stop putting barriers between your relationships and what you thought was right. It was stupid and prevented you from being happy. Charles made you happy, Mick, Esteban and Pierre as well. And truth be told, Luc would be disappointed in yourself to not jump on the occasion to get closer to his idols. Alone in your flat, the TV on, you started to pack for Imola until you got a text from Charles.

I’m not sure the race will happen. A risk of flooding is set on Imola’s area.

Are they canceling the race?

Not yet.

You were about to reply when your phone vibrated and Charles’ name popped on your screen.

“Three hours of being caught in traffic and four diversions. That’s how bad it is. The F2 paddock is literally under water. I don't see how it could get better. We would need a miracle for the race.” he explained.

“You could have told me that over a text you know… you didn’t need to call me. Although I’m happy to hear from you.”

“I know… I just needed to express my frustration out loud.”

“What does the organization say about the situation?” you asked, your journalistic instincts taking over.

“Nothing. They are waiting to see if the alert is about to be lifted or not. It’s stupid. It’s endangering people. Anyway… how are you doing?”

“Good. Busy preparing the maybe non race weekend” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“I bet. If by miracle Imola was to happen, are you down for a coffee or a walk or anything really… I need to get my mind out of the season.” he sighed.

“Getting your mind out of it by hanging out with someone whose whole job revolves around covering the season?”

“I want to talk to my lovely friend. Not to the annoying journalist.”

“I can be that.”

“What? Annoying, believe me, I know.” you could hear the laugh in his voice.

“No! Lovely, idiot.”

“I know that too. You’re cute.”

You felt your cheeks reddened and a deafening silence on the other end of the line.

“I mean… cute in a puppy way. Not in a sexy and attractive way… not that you are not sexy and attractive. Not to me. I’m sure there are plenty of guys out there that could fancy you.” he quickly added as you were hoping the floor would swallow you whole. “You know what I mean?”

“Not really, no.”

“Just… forget I said anything, yeah?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

After Imola had been canceled, just like how Charles had predicted it, the next stop of the season was Monaco, also known as the busiest time for you. In absence of a French GP, Monaco was now the closest of a homerace than it could be, meaning you were busier than ever. It was going to be a big weekend and you were really excited. You barely had time for yourself as when you were not working, you were texting Charles who was almost as busy as you were. But as the week was progressing and the Grand Prix was right around the corner, communication died down.

Indeed, Charles was swamped with interviews and sponsoring events from left to right and it was only when he was alone in his flat that he could check on his phone, sadder than what he was supposed to be when he noticed that you had stopped texting him. It was stupid, he knew how busy you were and it was unfair to ask from you to be there for him when he knew that he couldn’t do the same for you. And you were just friends, not that close even if over the last weeks he felt like he had started to know you on a deep level and you could say the same about him. He didn’t really understand why he felt so bothered not talking to you and he reassured himself thinking he would see you in the paddock.

But you weren’t there on media day, busy shooting reports in the streets of Monaco, nor were you here during Free Practices as you were covering the F2 sessions. He didn’t try to overthink and focused on the qualifyings the next day, sure that you would be there to welcome him in the media pen. But you weren’t, Marion was. He quickly asked Silvia if she knew why it was not you and she shrugged.

His home race’s weekend was starting a bit too well for his liking and as if fate had heard his doubts, the penalty dropped as he was heading out. Saying he was mad was an understatement. It was unfair, he knew he didn’t deserve it, not like this and it’s defeated that he met Arthur, at their mom’s house. Arthur was no better than him, he was not proud of his driving so far.

“I feel like I’m a failure. I don’t deserve my seat there and people are starting to be more and more vocal about that…” he confessed to Charles.

“Shut up. You do. And the ones who are saying you don’t are stupid. They don’t matter.”

“I want to make dad proud, Charles.”

“I know. I do too. And I promise you we will. We are going to give our all tomorrow. For him.” Charles assured.

But both races for the brothers ended up pretty badly for different reasons. Arthur had to DNF and Charles, retrograded in P6 after his penalty stayed in this position throughout the whole race. No actions, nothing. just a boring race and one he wanted to forget. But as he was heading to the media pen, he noticed you and suddenly, he felt better. He walked confidently to you and gave you a smile, that you reciprocated. He was about to answer confidently when he heard your first question.

“P6 for you today Charles after your penalty and another home Grand Prix that is not going as expected. Do you start to believe that you might get cursed after all?”

“I.. I… Well, I think it’s just a matter of circumstances. We tried our best to fight with everyone but it wasn’t enough.”

“Do you envision the possibility of you never winning Monaco?”

“Of course not! I’ll always give my all here and I know that one day it will pay off.” he answered a bit more harshly than what he intended. He didn’t understand where your questions were coming from. It was just like at the beginning of the season and it seemed that all the progress that you both had made were vanishing and your relationship back to square one. He didn’t even glance at you as he walked out of the media pen, even more frustrated than when he got in.

Once the post race meeting was over, he wandered around the paddock, trying to search for you and determined to find answers. He wanted to know why you had been so aggressive with your questions. He knew that the chances were high that you would still be around but despite his best attempts, you were nowhere to be seen and that angered him even more.

To let loose and as it was now a tradition, Charles and a few of his closest friends went out clubbing. It was one of the moments he was waiting for the most during the Grand Prix weekend and today, more than ever, he needed it. Other drivers were there as well. Pierre and his girlfriend Kika, Alex with Lily and George with Carmen, making him feel more single than ever.

“I’m not in the mood to see so many happy couples tonight.” he complained to Joris at the bar.

“Well that could be easily arranged, you know. There are so many girls who are waiting in line for you. Just pick one.”

“You know that I’m not that kind of guy. I need to feel a connection with someone.”

“Come on, man. After this weekend I think you deserve to enjoy yourself.”

Charles sighed and scanned the room only to see you there, talking and laughing with Mick. You seemed happy, carefree, something you only had shown to him and he admitted it, he felt jealous. Even more when Mick hugged you and he saw you reciprocating it. He clenched his jaw and drank his whiskey in one gulp. He didn’t care how he felt the liquid burning his throat, at the moment it was not worse than the burning he felt in his chest. He was so caught up watching you that he didn’t see Pierre approaching.

“There you are. I was starting to think you had gone home to be grumpy on your own.”

Charles barely made a sound to acknowledge his presence and Pierre followed his best friend’s gaze. Here you were, now on the dancefloor with Mick who was busy making you twirl around. He looked at Charles to see him clench his jaw and barely understood what was going on. He had never seen him acting like that.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Sure. That’s why you look like you want to see Mick buried six feet under.”

“I’m not.”

“It's okay, Charles. You can admit it. I won’t say anything or anyone.”

“There is nothing to admit.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“Fuck off, Gasly.” he finally brushed his friend off, as Joris was laughing.

He got out of the club, not feeling in the mood to party anymore. He was jealous. That was true. And he never thought that seeing you with another man would make him this angry. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh, the one to make you dance, the only one worthy of your hugs, the only one to put a bright smile on your face. And that was true, maybe his feelings were not as friendly as he thought.

You were slightly drunk, you knew it. You had spent the night laughing with Mick and Marion. You needed it. It had been a hell of a few weeks and letting loose was what you had been waiting for. On your way out, giggling as you were barely able to put one foot in front of the other, Marion joined you.

“I think it’s time for you to rest, missy.” she laughed, taking your bag out of your hands, scared you would drop it.

“How are you not drunk?”

“Experience, darling.”

She hailed a taxi and you both hopped in and made your way back to the hotel.

“Are you going to be okay on your own or do you need me to walk you to your room?” Marion asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

And you wouldn’t admit to her that you made a mistake on your floor number. When you finally made it, you were just dreaming about a nice shower and your soft bed. But when you looked up and your heart almost jumped out of your chest as you were feeling yourself sobering up rather quickly, you knew you were not getting them as soon as you hoped for. Charles was standing up in front of your door.

Author's note: An early chapter as I'm nor sure I'll be able to post tomorrow. What do you think Charles is doing here? What is he going to say?

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