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#his emotions really were all over the place in this performance huh
worseforwords · 16 days
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Crescendo
(Alessia Russo x Reader)
Chapter III of Marshmallow
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The Monday after the weekend off marked the return to training. As you locked your car door and approached the training center, your mind still replayed the events of the past weekend.
“Hi!” A sweet voice brought you back to the present. You turned around to meet Alessia’s now all-too-familiar blue eyes. “Morning Marshmallow,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips. “So, I guess we're back to normal now, huh?” you said.
“Yeah, friends,” she replied as the two of you strolled towards the building. As you entered the changing room together, Katie let out a dramatic wolf whistle. “Well, well, if it isn’t our two lovebirds! I guess you’ve just moved in together already.”
Laughter echoed as you shot Katie a playful glare. The spotlight was on the two of you, and everyone seemed curious about the weekend’s charade. Vic decided to get straight to the point. “So, spill it. How’d it go? Your parents buy the whole lovey-dovey act?” She asked.
You nodded, trying to play down the attention. “Yeah, they bought it.” As you moved to take a seat next to Leah, Alessia found her own place, and the atmosphere in the room buzzed with curiosity. Beth couldn’t resist chiming in, “Really? You actually pulled it off?”
“Alessia here was playing the ideal daughter-in-law. Perfect performance,” you said with a smirk, earning a few chuckles. You were hoping to leave it at that, which was of course too good to be true. “So what’s the next act? Break up after a while?” Vic inquired.
Before you could respond, Alessia jumped in, “Actually, Y/N’s sister is getting married in Paris next month, and we’re going together.” Jaws practically hit the floor. “Paris!?” Katie exclaimed, clearly taken aback.
“Yeah, why not? Always wanted to go, and it’s a free trip with a friend.” Alessia said with a casual shrug. For some reason, the word ‘friend’ hit you like a sudden jolt, though you knew she wasn’t lying. You noticed yourself zoning out as the conversation continued on the other side of the room. “Hey, are you okay?” Leah suddenly asked quietly, noticing your distant expression.
“Yeah, fine,” you replied, but the truth lingered beneath the surface. You busied yourself with your shoelaces, gaze straight to the floor. “You know, I’m surprised your parents bought your little act. You’re not exactly a great liar Y/N/N,” she said as you both got up to leave the changing room, clearly not fooled by your tough act.
The rest of the month leading up to the dreaded Paris trip went by a lot faster than expected. You and Alessia seamlessly transitioned back into your roles as teammates, though there was an undeniable shift in your relationship. To everyone else, it appeared as if a new friendship was blossoming, but to you, it felt like a delicate dance between savouring your time together and avoiding getting too close.
You enjoyed the conversations you had with her and the occasional playful teasing. Yet, you set unspoken boundaries. The line between friendship and something more blurred at times, and when the teasing veered into the realm of flirtation, you found subtle excuses to distance yourself from the situation. It was a self-imposed rule, a defence mechanism to keep your emotions in check.
When the dreaded weekend arrived, it started on a high. You had won the London derby, the roar of the crowd still echoing in your ears as you and Alessia boarded the plane. An hour and a half flew by as you chatted away about the hard-fought victory. When you landed in Paris, the city of lights welcomed you with a glow that mirrored the spark in Alessia’s eyes.
Stepping into the hotel lobby, Alessia’s hand found its place on the small of your back. It was a simple yet familiar touch, a signal that the roles were back in play – girlfriends for the public eye. In that moment, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over you. The elation from the match, the allure of Paris, and the gentle touch on your back created a concoction of feelings that you knew you would have to suppress all weekend.
When you swung open the door to your shared hotel room for the weekend, you couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping as your eyes scanned the room. Soft, warm lights adorned the walls, casting a gentle glow across the room. The scent of vanilla and lavender wafted through the air, creating an atmosphere that whispered of indulgence and intimacy.
The centrepiece was a double bed, adorned with satin sheets and a multitude of plush pillows, rose petals scattered artfully across the bedspread. The suite, beyond the bedroom, featured a cozy sitting area adorned with plush armchairs and a low coffee table holding an assortment of gourmet chocolates and a bottle of champagne on ice, complementing the romantic atmosphere.
“Well, they really went all out on the couple vibes, didn’t they?” you remarked with a faint grin, glancing at Alessia. She chuckled, seemingly unfazed. “Seems like it. Guess we’ll be embracing the honeymoon suite feel.”
As you walked in, you found a little note sitting on the bedside table. “Your first romantic getaway little sis! Have fun you lovebirds. x Charlotte.” You snorted as you read it out loud to Alessia. “Typical Charlie turning her own wedding into a romantic getaway for someone else,” you remarked.
Alessia giggled as she walked up to the window, taking in the gorgeous view, whilst you found yourself staring at the double bed, only now realising its implications.
“Hm, so,” you cleared your throat. “Since they gave us only one bed...” you paused for a moment as Alessia turned around to look at you. “You can take the bed, and I’ll take the floor. I’ll go request some more blankets.”
Alessia raised an eyebrow playfully. “Come on, Y/N. We’re not twelve. If you’re okay with it, we can share the bed. If not, I’m more than happy to take the floor. Your call.”
“Yeah, sure, no big deal,” you mumbled, trying desperately to sound casual. Alessia flashed a warm smile. “Great! As long as you’re comfortable.” She looked at you in anticipation as if checking once more if it was really okay with you. “Absolutely, all good,” you replied, maybe a bit too quickly.
That night, you had planned to meet your family in the lobby for a drink, whilst Andrew, your sister’s fiancé spent some time with his own family. Alessia, charming as always, effortlessly endeared herself to your family.
The night was a success, with your parents clearly appreciating Alessia’s company. Your brother, Colin, and his wife found her delightful, and even your sister, the bride-to-be, was glad to see you with such a wonderful person—a relief, since Charlotte had a tendency to be very protective over you. Alessia’s ability to navigate through conversations, blending in with your family seamlessly, only solidified the image of her as the perfect girlfriend.
As you all left the venue, there was a warmth in the air—a promise of a beautiful wedding day and a sense that Alessia had, once again, proven her mettle in this elaborate charade. The only challenge, it seemed, was the quiet struggle within you as you continued to suppress the feelings that once again had begun to blossom. Or maybe they had never really stopped.
Later that night, your hotel room was hushed, illuminated only by the soft glow of your nightlight. You sat up against the headboard, engrossed in a book, the occasional rustle of pages filling the silence. Alessia lay beside you, already cocooned in the sheets, her rhythmic breathing like small waves washing over the stillness.
When you had first started reading, Alessia was still scrolling on her phone. Now, however, the sound of soft snores broke your mind away from the captivating narrative of your book. Your eyes wandered to where she was peacefully asleep beside you, and you couldn’t help but let a warm smile form on your face, matching the warmth you felt inside at the sight of her.
With a tender touch, you pulled the blanket further over her, shielding her exposed shoulder from the chill. But as you lingered, you found yourself entranced by the subtle rise and fall of her body with each breath. Your gaze lingered longer than intended, tracing the contours of her form.
Reality snapped back as you became aware you had been staring at your friend for minutes now. In a hurried response, you left your book on the nightstand, turned off the nightlight, and shifted your body down to let your head sink into the pillow.
You briefly stared at the ceiling, but found yourself distracted by the slightest of movements still visible from the corner of your eye as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Fighting against the current of your emotions, you turned onto your side to face the other side of the bed.
However, even in the absence of her sight, you could feel her presence like a magnetic force against your back. With a racing heart, you stared into the black void, and when the internal struggle reached its peak, you made a decision. Quietly, you slipped out of bed, hoping not to disturb her peaceful slumber. However, Alessia, even in her sleep, seemed attuned to your movements. She stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open.
“Everything okay?” she mumbled sleepily as she reached for her nightlight. You hesitated for a moment before replying, “Yeah, just can’t sleep.” Alessia, still in a drowsy state, offered a comforting smile. “Tea?” she suggested, the word accompanied by a gentle stretch.
She hardly gave you a chance to protest as she got up to turn on your hotel kettle, returning moments later with two cups of chamomile tea and a soft, sympathetic smile.
A quiet and peaceful minute later, with the cups emptied, Alessia encouraged you to lie back down. “Now turn to your side,” she added. A sense of vulnerability washed over you as you pondered which side, and you hesitated. You ultimately decided to face away from her again, knowing the possibility of feeling her breath on your face was simply too much for you.
Shortly after you moved, however, you felt an arm softly land on yours, gently wrapping itself around you. You tensed up a little at the unexpected contact, but you slowly felt your body relax as Alessia hesitantly edged closer to you. “Is this okay?” she whispered.
The gesture was unexpected, and you felt a mix of emotions. Somehow, it felt right. “Yeah,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, and she held onto you a little tighter. Had you not been as sleep-deprived, your judgment of the situation might have been different, but in Alessia’s embrace, the room seemed to still, and you gradually drifted into a more peaceful state.
The morning of the wedding greeted you with a soft glow, sunlight streaming into the hotel room. As you opened your eyes, you found yourself in Alessia’s arms, her warmth a comforting presence. The gentle rise and fall of her chest against your back momentarily lulled you into a sense of security.
However, you were quick to resist the allure of the moment. With a silent sigh, you carefully escaped from Alessia’s embrace, not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber, and slipped into the bathroom.
After your shower, Alessia had woken up and did the same. As she occupied the bathroom, you used the mirror in the bedroom for your little morning chat with yourself. Today’s chat was more of a tirade, spoken with a stern whisper, since the main character was just a door away. You kept it short, deciding to use the time to get dressed.
Earlier this year, prompted by your sister’s wedding announcement, your family had visited to a tailor, which had resulted in a cohesive theme threading through each member’s attire. A shared fabric choice subtly connected all of you in the celebration. Opting for a suit, you added a personal touch underneath—a graceful camisole that exuded both elegance and individuality.
The jacket was expertly tailored, cinching at the waist to accentuate your silhouette. The trousers were tailored to perfection, elongating your legs in a tasteful manner. As you turned back towards the mirror, you felt a sense of confidence wash over you.
However, said confidence disappeared in an instant when a little while later, Alessia emerged from the bathroom. The sight of her took you aback as she looked nothing short of stunning. Her outfit exuded elegance and grace. She wore a floor-length dress with a fitted bodice that accentuated her figure. The colour was a soft, muted tone that complemented her skin beautifully and matched the shade of your camisole. The dress had delicate lace detailing, adding a touch of sophistication. Her hair, styled in loose waves, framed her face with effortless charm. She looked beautiful.
Moments must have gone by as you stared at her before she spoke up. “How do I look?” she asked nervously, eyes moving up from the floor to yours and a shy smile on her face.
The words caught in your throat for a moment before you managed to reply, “Absolutely breathtaking.” The sincerity in your words was undeniable, even as the underlying complexity of the situation lingered. Alessia’s smile widened, appreciating the compliment.
“You look great too,” she said, scanning your suit. “I’ve never seen you in a suit before. It’s— different,” she added. You felt your cheeks flush as every drop of confidence left your body. Different? What on earth did she mean by that?
She must have noticed your slightly somber expression when she added, “Good different, I mean. It’s— I really like it.”
“Oh, thank you,” you said shyly, a soft smile creeping its way onto your face. “So, you ready, marshmallow?” You asked in an attempt to lighten the mood and she giggled. “There’s no way you’re calling me that when I look like this,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Fine. Are you ready, beautiful?” You really meant for that to sound sarcastic but were pretty sure that’s not how it came across. “Yes I am, gorgeous,” she retorted. You extended an elbow and she quickly took the invitation, intertwining her arm with yours as you left your hotel room to meet up with your family.
The ceremony itself, while undoubtedly beautiful, proved to be a bit of a blur. As vows were exchanged and the union was sealed with a kiss, your mind occasionally drifted to the subtle touches exchanged between Alessia and you. All of them part of your charade, of course.
The reception was where the day truly came to life. The venue sparkled with twinkling lights, and soft music wove through the air, casting a dreamlike aura over the celebration. Tables adorned with delicate flowers dotted the space, and laughter echoed as guests mingled. You found yourself mostly sticking by Alessia’s side, introducing her to friends and family.
Caught up in conversation with your cousin, you momentarily lost sight of your pretend girlfriend amidst the laughter and chatter. An undercurrent of panic flitted through you until, scanning the room, you spotted her engaged in a lively conversation with your mom.
As dinner unfolded, the atmosphere transformed with each heartfelt speech. Stories were shared about Charlotte and Andrew, from their initial dislike towards each other when working together to an accidental cooler confinement that changed everything.
Eventually the microphone found its way into your uncle’s hands, who fancied himself a poet after a few drinks. “Life is like music,” he began. "We all navigate through the complex cacophony that is the world as our own melodies. But it’s when we listen to those around us that we find unexpected harmonies.”
Glancing at Alessia, you found her eyes already on you. A shy smile passed between you as you related the poetic metaphor to your own story— the harmony between you and Alessia, unexpected yet undeniable.
“It’s the unexpected that makes both music and life beautiful, but love is not just about one simple harmony,” your uncle continued. “It’s about finding a way to move your melodies in sync, with whatever tempo, pitch, or dynamics the world throws at you. Charlotte, Andrew, I can’t wait to listen from afar to the next movements of the symphony of your love.”
Cheesy as the speech was, your uncle was right. No matter how much you felt the two of you harmonise when you were together, her melody wasn’t in sync with yours. It was with someone else’s.
After dinner came the highlight of the night— the party. The crowd gathered in the grand dance hall, and the band kicked off with some casual tunes. Your sister and her newly-wedded husband valued family a lot, so they wanted you all to be part of the first dance. The newlywed couple would start with a slow song, and as it progressed, close family members would join in. Then you all would do a small routine together to another song.
The original plan was for you to share the dance with your brother, a strategy devised by your mother to prevent you from being on your own. However, with Alessia as your date, plans swiftly changed. Your mother broke the news mere minutes before the grand moment. You attempted to protest by saying Alessia didn’t know the dance. However, unbeknownst to you, when your mom had briefly taken Alessia away during the reception when you whilst chatting away with your cousin, she had quickly taught her the routine.
Nerves began to bubble within your stomach as the band’s singer instructed everyone to form a large circle, with the newlyweds taking center stage. The chosen song for the dance was “Finally // beautiful stranger” by Halsey, a bit of an inside joke as it happened to be Andrew’s ultimate guilty pleasure and a challenge for him to hold back tears.
Nevertheless, to his credit, he continued slow dancing with Charlotte, and your turn was approaching. “Are you sure about this?” you asked Alessia, who responded with a nod, extending her hand for you to hold. You complied, and she practically dragged you onto the dance floor.
Not a fan of the spotlight, your face started heating up as you felt everyone’s eyes on you. Alessia must have noticed your flustered state as she quickly directed your hands to her waist, wrapping her own around your neck. She slowly guided the two of you, swaying to the music as the band launched into the final chorus.
“Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms And I think it's finally, finally, finally, finally, finally safe For me to fall”
As you looked around you, you felt your palms getting sweaty and your throat closing up. Sensing your nerves, Alessia whispered softly, “It’s okay, just look at me.”
You did as she said, and although her bright blue eyes did not make you any less nervous, her encouraging smile made you temporarily forget about everyone else’s eyes on you, hers the only pair that mattered. Alessia became your anchor on the dance floor, subtly guiding you through the steps.
As the night unfolded into a lively party, drinks flowed freely, and the dance floor beckoned. Your pretend girlfriend, being the new addition to the family, soon found herself surrounded by eager relatives, each wanting to share a toast or pull her into a dance.
You were in the midst of a conversation with your aunt when Alessia suddenly whisked you onto the dance floor. Guiding your hands to her waist once again, she inched closer, and the dance felt different from before, carefree in a way. Her hands explored your body more intimately than usual, and you decided to attribute it to the influence of alcohol and chose to savour the moment.
Just as you were becoming lost in the dance, your brother Colin’s playful interruption cut through the enchantment with a teasing grin. “Hey, lovebirds, mind if I cut in?” His comment, though light-hearted, momentarily disrupted the dance’s spell.
Another interruption followed when Alessia’s phone chimed with an incoming call. She gracefully excused herself, walking away to take the call with an apologetic smile. However, you couldn’t help but glimpse the caller ID on her screen—Dan, accompanied by a little heart emoji.
“Who’s Dan?" Colin inquired, raising a suspicious eyebrow. It seemed you weren’t the only one who had caught a quick glimpse of the screen. “He’s just a friend of Alessia’s,” you quickly replied.
“Why did she add a heart to his name?” he persisted, unwilling to let the topic go. “They’re good friends, like family almost,” you offered in explanation.
“Family? Really? Would you take a photo like that with me?” he skeptically questioned. He seemed to have gotten a better look at the screen than you had thought. “Y/N what’s going on here?”
“Nothing is going on. You’re just looking for drama, that’s what’s going on!” you retorted, shoving your brother away as you headed to the bar, eager to escape the conversation.
Fortunately, Colin didn’t follow you, and you settled onto a barstool with a glass of water to cool down. 
“Hey, did I do something wrong?” Alessia asked when she found you at the bar a little while later. “I just ran into Colin. He was being weird. All of a sudden, he was telling me I can’t hide anything from him,” she explained.
“Shit,” you muttered before pulling Alessia into the hallway and explaining your encounter with your brother. “I don’t know what to do, Less; he might be onto us.”
A hushed silence fell between you as your minds raced to find a solution. “I think I might have an idea,” Alessia suddenly broke the silence, and you looked at her expectantly.
“It’s a bit weird, but don’t freak out please,” she said and you nodded nervously, but you both jumped when Colin’s voice suddenly rang from around the corner, calling out your name.
“Shit okay, no time to explain,” she continued, turning her body towards you. Her blue eyes locked onto yours as she took a deep breath. “Y/N, can I kiss you?”
Perhaps it was the alcohol, the rush of the situation, or simply your brain short-circuiting at the question, but whatever it was, you nodded almost instantly. “Yes?” she asked, seeking assurance, a warm hand cupping your cheek as you closed your eyes.
“Yes.”
The approaching footsteps neared the corner of the hallway where you stood when you suddenly felt a pair of soft lips crash onto yours. For a moment everything around you disappeared. Your hands found her waist once more like on autopilot, and her hand moved to the back of your neck. She slowly walked the two of you backward until you felt your back connect with the cold wall behind you. The kiss was hungry and a little sloppy, nothing like how a first kiss was supposed be, yet you never wanted this moment to end.
Had your brain still been functioning you would’ve realised the heat of it all was due to Alessia trying to perform a convincing drunken make-out. But your brain had little to do with what was happening right now. For a moment, you didn’t think. You disappeared into the kiss easily, as if the two of you had done this numerous times before. Harmony. Synchronisation.
Alessia broke away from you what must have been minutes later, your brother long gone. As you felt your heart all but beat out of your chest, you wondered whether she had noticed that just moments ago when she had you trapped against the wall.
“You think he bought it?” Alessia asked, her warm breath mingling with yours as it took you a while to form an answer. 
“I would assume so,” you finally answered, only now remembering the reason behind the moment you shared.
The party continued in a blur of lights, laughter, and music, but your mind remained in a state of disarray. The hallway kiss with Alessia left you dazed and confused. What did it mean? Why did she do it? The questions swirled in your mind, each one more bewildering than the last. One thing was certain; it didn’t feel like nothing.
As the night wore on, you and Alessia eventually decided to call it a night. The world outside the grand dance hall seemed quieter, and you both made your way back to the hotel room in a companionable silence.
Once inside, the question that had been nagging at you surfaced. “Hey, about the call from your boyfriend earlier, is everything okay?”
Alessia nodded, “Yeah, it’s fine, just had a planning issue,” she explained. Curiosity brimming, you probed further, “Is he really okay with all this?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, he’s... not really the jealous type,” she finally responded. The air grew heavy as you dared to ask the question that hung in the room, “Are you gonna tell him about the... you know, thing we did earlier?”
“I guess so,” she mumbled casually. “Doesn’t really matter anyways…” Her voice trailed off, and her gaze seemed distant, as if already lost in other thoughts.
That admission hit you like a stab to the heart. It was a stark reminder of the insignificance of the shared moments, at least from her perspective. You fell silent for a while, processing the weight of her words.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” Alessia’s voice was filled with concern. You forced a smile, “Yeah, all good. I’m just gonna take a shower.”
In the confined space of the bathroom, the sound of water cascading drowned the noise in your head. You let the water cleanse not only your body but also the lingering confusion and hurt. As you stepped out, Alessia was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps sensing the need for space, she’d let you be.
When Alessia returned, you were already in bed, eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. You remained still when you felt her quietly slip into the other side of the bed.
The next morning was a quiet one. You both packed your belongings and left for the airport, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. The flight was silent, with occasional glances at each other, a mixture of confusion and hurt and still, for whatever reason, curiosity in your eyes.
Neither of you dared to broach the topic of the previous night’s events. Was it a mistake, a game, or something more? Or was it really nothing? Were you making things up? The questions lingered as the plane landed, and you shared an Uber to take both of you home.
The Uber dropped Alessia off first. As she gathered her things, she turned to you. “Hey, want to come in for a bit?” The question hung in the air, loaded with unspoken implications. You hesitated but agreed, curiosity overcoming your reservations.
Inside her place, the tension was palpable. Alessia attempted to break it with a joke, "So when’s our next performance?”
You forced a chuckle, “Don’t worry, I can come up with excuses for you for the next couple of family events, and after a few months, I’ll just tell them we broke up or something.”
Alessia’s expression shifted, sensing something beneath your words. “Is everything okay, Y/N?” She asked, a concerned look on her face as she tried to catch your gaze, which you avoided.
“Yeah, fine,” you lied. “I’m just not going to drag you to every family thing ever just because you said yes to it once. It was really nice of you to help me, but you should get to spend your time off football with your actual boyfriend.”
“Right, Dan. Y/N, I—” she started but the keys jingling in the door interrupted her. The door opened, and in walked her boyfriend.
He greeted Alessia with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and your heart sank a little as you watched, unable to shake the tinge of jealousy. You wished you could hate him, find some flaw, but he was genuinely a nice guy who had done nothing wrong. Still, you couldn’t help but wish you could recreate the intimacy you shared with Alessia just yesterday, a privilege he seemed to enjoy effortlessly whenever he wanted.
When Dan asked you if you wanted to stay for lunch, you politely declined, saying you already had plans and you excused yourself, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. 
You shut the door to Alessia’s apartment and with it your pretend relationship. Why did this fake break-up hurt so real? 
One thing was for sure, it was all your fault. And still you had a lingering feeling that this wasn’t the last chapter of this strange tale.
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Note: Hi! Just wanted to let you all know that I love hearing what you think about the story thus far and what you would like to see happen next so feel free to leave a comment/ask/message!
-> Chapter IV
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two-white-butterflies · 7 months
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you won't forget me | m33
Description: Max Verstappen attends an event - coincidentally his ex girlfriend plays her new song.
Author's Note: Angst
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(ONE YEAR AGO)
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maxverstappen1: Congratulations on the world tour, y/n ❤️ #Y/NWORLDTOUR #REVIVAL
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danielricciardostan: you really don't want to reveal the pet name huh?? 🤣
yourusername: Wishing that you were here 💞
revivalstan: Mommy mommy..sorry mommy?
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yourusername: finally saw this man, thank you belgium! #Spa #RevivalWorldTour22
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maxverstappen1: ❤️
landonorris: Don't Stop ft. Max Verstappen was surprisingly an 8/10. 🤣 - yourusername: don't let him hear you say that. he only accepts perfect 10s 😭 - - maxverstappen1: @yourusername indeed! 😉😘
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(SPA. 2022)
"I was a little worried because you weren't replying to my texts," he hummed while settling his mug on the table beside him. The International Date Line was a shitty imaginary line - separating the times in which he was awake and you were asleep (vice versa) it didn't help with the fact that you were always busy memorizing the cover songs for your concert.
It was horrible being away from each other - but at the same time, you both loved your freedom.
"I don't even hold my phone 50% of the time, I'm really sorry." you hummed while wrapping your arms around his back. Max was always warm - even when it was snowing - his body was always warm.
"I'll be over soon, I'll be back and we'll return to whatever paradise we have." you smiled, while reaching for his mug and taking a slow sip.
"Uhuh," he hummed - and you didn't fail to notice the sadness in his tone. Maybe the freedom was too good - he wasn't used to having you back.
A small sigh escapes your mouth. You place the mug on the table. "Is there something that you're not telling me?" you frowned - feeling a familiar fear creep up your throat. Did he want to break up? "No, I'm happy that I'll have you back - not really a fan of sharing you with fans." he chuckled amusingly.
Max Verstappen was a fucking idiot - he doesn't realize his emotions until they're too late. "I'm thinking of taking a break after the concert. I want to have time for us, and I don't want to share me with my career." you admit, a small smile painted on your lips.
He smiled at you in return - and you knew that the break wasn't coming anytime soon. That he'd break your heart before that.
And if he breaks your heart, so what? You'd rather be broken by his hand a million times than not at all.
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f1updates: Max Verstappen and singer-girlfriend have reportedly broken up according to insiders.
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maxverslovvee: I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING.
ynstan: Oh no...I hope that it was for the best
baloney3: MAX-YN STANS HOW ARE WE? 😭
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maxverstappen1: We were just kids when we fell in love. Now as adults, we chose to fall in love with ourselves. ❤️
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danielricciardo: ❤️
yourusername: ❤️
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yourusername: After five years we've decided to call it quits. All my love goes towards Max. ❤️
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danielricciardo: ❤️
rileykeough: Power to you, sister. ✨
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yourusername: Silver Springs: Emillia out in DAWN ✨🍿🎪
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ynstannie3: OH THIS ABOUT TO HURT
maxandyn: isn't emillia the name of their cat? 😭 - loviemee3: Sassy and Jimmy's half sister 😭
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(ONE YEAR LATER)
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yourusername: #YNLN in the VMA's Music Awards.
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bumpertobumpertraffic: MOM YOU ATE
lovingyouwwe: Graduated in the university of KUNTSERVEN
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maxverstappenupdates: Max Verstappen arriving in the VMA's music awards. More updates soon!
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maxandyn: ISN'T Y/N THERE?
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(VMA's Music Awards. USA.)
Max's eyes narrowed - slowly adjusting to the mellow light around him. Apparently, the performance was supposed to be intimate, thus the use of such lights. It was his first time attending these types of events - you always refused to string him along when you were nominated, in fear that he'd feel out of place - and he does feel out of place. He was one of the few athletes inside the building.
"Can you tell me it was worth it? Baby, I don't want to know." he hears your familiar voice, and his grip tightens on his chair. He was aware of the cameras that were pointed in his direction - no doubt about to be plastered on an article a few hours after this. "We can leave," his publicist mumbles but he shakes his head.
He doesn't want to leave you - not again.
"Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me." you sang, while the lights slowly shifted to a green tone. He couldn't keep his eyes off you - there was a weird aura around him, forcing him to watch and listen to a song written about him.
"I know, I could have loved you but you would not let me." you shook your head - searching the crowd for his face. How you gained enough strength to look at him? He'd never know. "Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me." you repeated - finally meeting his gaze.
His eyes were moist - threatening to leak tears.
"I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me." you sang again, this time with more intonation as your muse returned home. "I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you." you swore and he could only nod his head.
He hasn't listened to music since you broke up.
"You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you." you breathed, feeling the room begin to grow smaller. Oh, why did he have to return? Why couldn't he have stayed in Europe? Where you didn't have to deal with the shadow of his name.
Max Verstappen, why do you keep hurting me?
"I'll follow you down til' the sound of my voice will haunt you." you raised your voice a few decibels. Praying to god that what you're saying was halfway true. The sound of his name haunted you - and your name should have the same effect.
"You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you." you continued singing the bridge, not taking your eyes a minute off him. Max, please remember me for the rest of your life. "Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me. I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me." you finished and the lights slowly dimmed.
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maxverstappenupdates: Max Verstappen in VMA's afterparty.
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maxandlandolover: He looks sad. - ynloveee: you'll never get away from the sounndd of the woman that lovesss you !!
lovemelikeyoudo: TIME PUT A SPELL ON YOU, BUT YOU WON'T FORGET ME! YESS QUEEN
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(VMA's Bathroom. USA)
"That was strangely moving," Daniel takes a deep breath, leaning on the counter as Max washes his hands. "I don't know, Dan." he shook his head - trying to ignore the voices in his head that told him he was wrong, that he made a mistake breaking up with you.
He loved you, with all of his heart - but none of you were willing to give up certain luxuries for each other. "You wouldn't stop staring at her." his friend pointed out, and Max stopped for a second. "She was a performer, of course I'd watch her." he defended himself.
"Sure, whatever." Daniel rolled his eyes while walking out of the room.
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dontflailmenow · 2 years
Text
push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) - part two
summary: thirsting over your ex’s best friend in general is a bad idea. given that you and seungcheol have never gotten along, it’s even worse. when you accidentally stumble across his stream, though, and he finds out? all bets are off.
pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader
word count: ~5k (this part)
genre: smut (18+), enemies to lovers, camboy au
warnings/contains: camboy!cheol, cocky!cheol, explicit language, dirty talk, teasing/banter, masturbation (m. and f.), continued usage of petnames (affectionate or derogatory - you decide), mild angst (she's struggling but can you blame her?)
a/n: this is part of the svthub collab. please take a look at the masterlists for the collab and check out the awesome fics that have been posted and be sure to put yourself on the taglist for the excellent fics still to come! we’re coming up on the deadline so there are lots that’ll be popping up on a dash near you in the next few weeks
svthub masterlists: hyung line and maknae line and official taglist form for all of the fics still to come
general taglist: @trashlord-007 @goodforgyu, @junhui-recs
seventeen taglist: @confusedbansheee, @ahgastayzen, @kkakkameori, @bimb0beee @n6tluv
series masterlist
previous part
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Tomorrow night at 8pm was now before you knew it. 
All day long at work, you had gone back and forth between talking yourself out of it and rationalizing to yourself why it was okay and, in fact, was a good thing because at least you weren’t some sketchy person and it was probably less pressure to perform for one person than have to attend to lots of them, making people with conflicting wants happy. Right? 
Right. 
At 7:59pm, stripped down to your panties and a camisole, you were sitting on your bed with the laptop in front of you, a maelstrom of emotions as you waited for him to start the stream. 8:00pm on the dot, a message popped up on your screen informing you that coups_d_éhot is now live and you watched as the screen changed from black to a live view of Seungcheol. Wearing a white button-up, the top two buttons of which were undone, exposing only a hint of skin at the collar, his posture conveyed a complete lack of the nerves that were currently lighting you up. 
You could do this. You could do this and he would never know it was you. 
“Hello there,” he said in that oh-so-familiar voice you still weren’t sure how you hadn’t placed right away the first time you saw him on camera. 
Hi, you typed in the chat, figuring that was as good a place to start as any. How was your day?
“Really good, actually! Busy but good. What about you, princess? Good day?” 
It wasn’t bad. Better than yesterday, definitely, but I spent way more time than I should have thinking about this. 
When he spoke, his tone was laced with amusement. “Thought about me all day, huh? And you tried to pretend you weren’t mine. I told you that you would be.” You could hear his smile, could envision it, cocky and usually so annoying, but right then, it sent a rush of heat through you. 
I thought about this all day. Because I’ve done the video sex thing with in the past with partners, but I have to admit that this is a new one for me. 
Whether I’m yours or not remains to be seen ;)
Seungcheol chuckled and leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the desk in front of him, practically purring. “That sounds like a challenge. You might regret issuing it when you’re desperate to come and I won’t let you until you say the words out loud, but I accept.”
Well shit. 
You’d walked into that one. Engraved the man an invitation, even. You shivered, a frisson of anticipation working its way down your spine.
“And I’m honored to be able to introduce you to something new, although I am curious. You said today was better than yesterday…and yesterday is when you reached out to me. Did something happen yesterday to prompt this sudden urge for new experiences?” 
The question caught you off guard, not expecting the shift in topic and not used to hearing that soft caring from Seungcheol. Maybe you should have, though, considering the quasi-intimacy was what had drawn you to the camming site instead of just watching recorded porn to begin with, and you had witnessed his interactions with his audience before. Sexy, yes. Unfairly. But that alone wouldn’t have kept you coming back to watch S.Coups. 
His question forced you to remember the day before, to think about James and how you’d felt during and after the encounter. How your impulses overrode your common sense and led you to logging back on SVTHub to arrange this with the last person you should be doing it with. 
“You don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable, sweetheart,” he added.
No, it’s okay! I just got stuck in my thoughts. I ran into my ex-boyfriend and the woman he cheated on me with yesterday. I haven’t really heard from or seen him in a couple of weeks - he called a lot the week after we broke up but I guess he got the message when I kept not answering or responding to his texts. 
Anyway, I’m sure that’s probably not what you were hoping to hear lol. I thought about tinder but figured at least with you, I knew there would be orgasms involved!
Before you had too much of a chance to second-guess your textual TMI with a dude who thought you were a stranger, he was talking. 
“Your ex-boyfriend is a dick.” Seungcheol had sat back at some point while you were typing and just enough of him was in the frame for you to see the tightness in his jaw as he unknowingly called his best friend a dick. Even knowing he didn’t know who he was talking about or to, it felt nice to hear the words from him, of all people. “I’m sorry that happened, but you made the right call picking me over tinder. 100% of the time, I’m the right choice.”
You laughed, a lightness bubbling up in your chest. So arrogant, but that had been your thought process as well, so you couldn’t exactly fault him for it. 
100% of the time? I’m sure there has to be at least a few guys on there who know their way around a woman’s body.
“Nah, I stand by what I said. I’m always the right choice. Tell you what, peach,” he said while his fingers moved to the buttons on his shirt, slowly opening one, then another, working his way down while he went on. “We’re gonna start with one orgasm and keep them coming until you tap out – how does that sound?” 
It sounded like you weren’t going to be able to look him in the eyes for the rest of forever, but you couldn’t – wouldn’t – tell him that. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands part the fabric of his shirt to reveal a wide band of skin along the length of his torso. A torso you had so recently seen in the flesh, close enough to touch, but never would. You pressed your thighs together, dragging your gaze from his belly button, from his chest, from that fucking tattoo that was the reason you even knew who he was, to the text box in the chat.
It sounds like you’re a pretty ambitious guy, S.Coups. You think you can get me to admit to being yours AND have more than one orgasm? We’ve only got an hour here.
“Oh, princess,” he said with a soft huff of laughter. “Half an hour would be more than enough time to get you to do any number of things for me. If you’d like to keep pushing it, I’m happy to demonstrate. Shall I make you beg, too, or are you gonna behave?” His voice had deepened, the low timbre feeling like a caress along your nerves, carrying warmth to gather in your abdomen. 
His words. Now, those had your cunt clenching around nothing and a flush blooming across your cheeks, spreading until you felt it covering your chest. A truly shockingly large part of you wanted very much to keep pushing, to see how far you could. The same part of you that had been fighting against him and giving back just as much attitude as you had received from him since you’d given up trying to win him over. 
The last vestiges of rational thought in you, though, made a compelling case for why allowing him to make you beg him to come or follow through on whatever else was underlying his words (on the off, very small – miniscule, really –  chance you succumbed because you totally wouldn’t because you were strong and stubborn and like hell would you let Seungcheol make you beg him for anything) was an even worse idea than letting him talk you through an orgasm and playing a part in his own. 
I’ll be good tonight. 
But only because I’m nice and this is your first time with me!
Me, specifically, I mean. Alone. So I’m sure you have a quota to meet or something. I wouldn’t want you to not meet it and feel bad.
“That’s you being good?” 
Yes? 
He chuckled and you saw the movement of his chin as he shook his head, then dropped it down. You could have sworn you heard him mutter, “Such a fucking brat,” but when he lifted his chin back up, he spoke clearly, so it was entirely possible you had misheard. “You and I have very different definitions of what behaving means, beautiful.”
You chose to ignore the little flutter in your belly at the petname. He didn’t know you from the next woman on the street, so he wasn’t calling you beautiful, you reminded yourself. And anyway. 
Oops. 
O:) 
“Cute. All right. Since you had a rough day yesterday and because I am nice, I’m gonna let that one go and go easy on you tonight. Act up again and I make no promises, hm?” 
The temptation to be a smartass and reply with, Yes, sir! was real. It was…fun engaging with him like this. The back and forth felt playful rather than charged and laced with months of animosity. This was a Seungcheol you would like to know. It was just too bad you couldn’t.
Okay, okay. I’ll be good for real. And thank you. For just being here. Like this. 
Seungcheol brought a hand up to his neck and rubbed at the skin there, turning his head to the side before centering it to the camera again and clearing his throat, lifting his chin. “Ah, you don’t have to thank me for that. Or…if you really want to, you can let me make you feel good. I do have that quota to meet, after all.” 
Luckily, he couldn’t hear the noise you made – somewhere between a laugh, a snort, and a gasp. It didn’t help that that your mental process had quickly moved from, ‘fuck, he’s adorable?’ to ‘yeah, actually, I would really like him to make me feel good,’ to ‘fuck him for being funny right now,’ as he spoke.
Sir, yes, sir! 
Did that count as acting up? You cursed your fingers and their tendency to just go along with whatever smartass thought popped into your brain, quickly typing more.
I mean, I’m not going to say no to that?
“Mhm,” he hummed and you didn’t need to see his face to picture the upward quirk at the corner of his mouth. “That’s what I thought. What you’re going to do is get nice and comfortable for me, so all you have to do from here on out is watch me, listen to me, and touch yourself the way I tell you to – the way I would.”
Staring at him through the screen, your eyes were glued to his fingers pushing his shirt off of his shoulders, the way the fabric fell to the floor, and every inch of familiar skin it had been hiding, now revealed for your enjoyment and – reluctant – appreciation. Your own skin felt suddenly too sensitive against the fabric of your top, breaking out in goosebumps. A rush of heat moved through you as his words went round and round in your head, painting a picture of his hands on your body, fingers brushing over your skin, digging into your hips to hold you in place, buried deep inside your cunt.
You might actually be embarrassed by the way your body responded to his words – to him – if you weren’t already used to it and if you didn’t know he would never know just how much he affected you. 
Uh, you needed to respond to him, didn’t you? 
Yeah. I will, yeah. 
Saying that, you settled deeper against the pillows behind your back and stretched your legs out in front of you on the bed, laptop coming to rest on your thighs. On impulse, you dragged your camisole over your head and tossed it toward the end of the bed. It wasn’t as though you weren’t going to end up naked, anyway. You shivered at the air in the room, chilled, the soft breeze from the fan making your already pebbling nipples harder. 
Okay, I’m comfortable
His voice, when he spoke again, was warm and amused. “I’m glad, but there’s one more thing I need you to do for me. Do you think you can do it?”
I know I can, you typed out, then cursed as you had to catch the laptop that started to slide off your legs when you shifted your position slightly. Frowning at it, you set it on the mattress beside your hip instead. Maybe you should have thought of the logistics of this before now because it was a lot easier when other people were typing.
“Good girl,” he crooned. “Do you see that microphone icon on your screen? Go ahead and click that.” 
You stared at the icon in horror. What?! No. Absolutely not. If he heard your voice, the odds of being found out went up astronomically. Adrenaline flooded your veins and you sat there, frozen, brain working at a thousand miles a minute to figure out a way out of this. 
“Still my shy girl, huh? It’s just you and me, princess. You don’t have to use the microphone, but I promise you’ll enjoy this a lot more if your hands aren’t on your keyboard.” 
Fuck. You would but you couldn’t take that risk. Could you? 
“Hold on, this might also make you more comfortable.” His hands moved in front of him, doing something on his desk, then the camera on his end zoomed out and, for the first time since you’d logged on to SVTHub and watched him, his face was visible. Seungcheol looked into the camera and you could see the challenge in the upward arch of an eyebrow and the turn of his lips. 
Oh. Shit.
He – Damn him and your own inability to resist a gauntlet thrown down when he was involved. Your fingers slid across the trackpad and clicked the icon before you could talk yourself out of it. 
“Seu– S.Coups,” you started, remembering to use the nickname and correcting yourself. “Do you normally show your face in these private streams? Because I get that your privacy is important and you don’t have to – I can keep my mic on, either way. You were right that it’s better like this.”
“There she is,” he said in a low purr that you felt in your core. Your breath hitched and you held it, knowing he heard that this time. If nothing else, that self-satisfied smile you had seen so many times forming on his face gave it away. “Are you worried about my anonymity or are you wondering if you should be jealous that others have seen my face on here?”
There was knowing it was him on the other side of the screen and there was seeing it. Seeing the face you’d glared at hundreds of times. Seeing the heat flash in his eyes and the way he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. God, he was still Seungcheol and still the bane of your existence, even if he was flirting and trying to entice rather than piss you off.
“Should I be?” 
“Worried? Nah, I know what I’m doing. Jealous? You tell me. Does it bother you thinking about me doing this with other women?” 
Fuck him and the lazy way he leaned back in his chair, the way one of his hands moved to palm himself through his pants, drawing your attention to what you knew was hidden beneath the fabric and that you shouldn’t want to see. Definitely should not want to touch. 
“I don’t think I’m allowed to be bothered by that, am I? It’s your job, so of course–”
“Ah ah ah,” he interrupted you, tutting. “That wasn’t the question. Do you want to be the only one I let see me like this? Whom I let close enough to do so?”
You honestly weren’t sure what to make of the fact that it did bother you. What did you care who he showed his face to? You’d been one of the many watching his streams, so it wasn’t like you didn’t know you weren’t special. And also it was goddamn Seungcheol. You had no claim on him – you couldn’t have a claim on him.
You didn’t want to have a claim on him.
“A little,” you finally admitted. “I don’t like sharing,” you added on a soft laugh. “Obviously. Not that I don’t realize that’s not what this is. I’m not a crazy person, I promise!” 
His expression shifted before your eyes and you watched as the playfulness melted into seriousness. The same shift you’d seen in him that night in the club when you’d let the comment about James’ cheating slip. “I said it before and I’ll say it again: your ex is a dick. Didn’t know he had something precious. Didn’t know how to be what you needed, did he?”
His words were a balm they really shouldn’t be, considering he wouldn’t be saying them if he knew who he was talking about, but they soothed you nonetheless. Soothed you and made you feel vulnerable in a way you did not want to be around Seungcheol. You drew in a deep breath and forced your brain away from that and back to half-naked hot guy focus.
“What do I need, S.Coups? You think you know how to be that?”
And just like that, his gaze turned molten, focused on the camera as if he could see you through the screen. So much so that you had to quickly check that you didn’t somehow inadvertently turn on video as well as audio, which thank God, you hadn’t. 
“Oh, princess. I think we both know that what you need is me.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips and your own mirrored the action as your mouth went dry. “You wouldn’t be here with me right now otherwise.”
“I – That’s why I’m here, y-yeah.” Was that your voice? All breathless and doing nothing to hide how much he affected you? To contradict him? 
“Mm, that’s right. And I’m gonna give you what you need,” he said and you bit back a whimper, only able to catch some of the needy noise. His eyes drifted shut and you heard him hiss as the hand in his lap squeezed. “What you’ve been wanting, all alone over there. Just watching me wasn’t enough. You wanted all of my attention on you, and to know that when I’m coming, it’s for you and because of you. Wanted me to be touching myself like this,” to punctuate his words, he curled his fingers around his cock, stroking once along the length of it, the shape of which you could see pressing hard up against his pants and tenting the fabric. “Thinking about being inside you instead. Wishing I was fucking it into you instead of fucking into my fist. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
You nodded before remembering that he couldn’t see that and whining – whining! Fuck your life – as you squirmed restlessly on the bed, rubbing your thighs together as your hands came to rest on either one. Instinct compelled you to slide your fingers between your legs, to press against the soaked material of your panties and give yourself some semblance of relief, but you knew better by now. He would tell you when and if you touched yourself before he told you to, he would drag it out even longer before he let you come.
“You know it is.” 
His soft moan seemed to echo in your ears and when he opened his eyes again, they were hungry. “I do know but I want to hear you say it, princess. How badly do you want it?”
“God,” you groaned, fingertips digging into the tops of your thighs to keep them there. “Badly enough to be doing this when I know it’s a terrible idea and the last thing I should be doing. This is seriously the dumbest decision I’ve ever made, but I’m here.”
“I’m gonna have to disagree with you there,” he said with a shake of his head and as cocky a smile as you’d ever seen on his face. “I think this is the best decision you’ve ever made, but if you think that and you’re still with me…I know how badly you needed this. Are you touching yourself right now?” 
You scoffed because you couldn’t not. Of course he disagreed. He had no idea just how stupid you were being. “No, I’m being good like I said I would be. My hands are on my thighs,” you said.
“You’re being very good.” The pleased sound he let out then should not have made you feel proud, nor should his praise, and yet. “Are you wet for me?”
“Yes. I’m – yes.”
“Fuck, I bet you are.” You heard him curse and watched the sharp rise of his chest, growing wetter at the sight of his hands on the button of his pants, making quick work of undoing the button and lowering his zipper. “My needy princess, your poor panties are just soaked through, aren’t they?” His hand slipped beneath the waistband of his underwear and it was your turn to curse, jealous of his hand, angry at the thin fabric concealing his movements from you, concealing him from you. 
Your whimper was likely answer enough. “You can touch yourself now, peach. Wherever you’d like, except you’re going to take one of those hands and slide those little fingers of yours over that pretty pussy and tell me how it feels.” 
A deep, shaky sigh of relief passed through your lips at the permission. One of your hands traced soft patterns up your torso to tease at and your breasts before focusing on your nipples, soft brushes of fingertips against the pebbled flesh followed by flicks and squeezes, then back to teasing grazes. As instructed, you let your other hand slip down the inside of your thigh, then up to press against thin, absolutely rendered useless and sticky and embarrassingly wet considering the only stimulation you’d received was his words, fabric. You let out a soft gasp at the first touch of your fingertips to your clit, another as you let your fingers slide down to press into the material covering your entrance, feeling another wave of need roll through you and the way your body instinctively tightened in response. 
“It feels like it’s,” you said on a whine, “it’s not enough. Feels good, but I need more.”
“Of course you do,” he crooned. “Need it to be my hands on you,” Seungcheol gave the camera – gave you – a tongue-touched smile as he took his dick out, slowly stroking the length and swiping his thumb across the tip, capturing the liquid gathered there. Smile turning sly at the needy whimper you couldn’t quite bite back. “Need my cock, but you can’t have that yet, princess. Gonna have to touch yourself and fuck yourself for me.”
Taking that as direction - permission? instruction? - you slid your hand into your panties and let your fingers slip through your slick folds to rub against your clit. Matching your speed to the slow pumps of his fist up, down, up, down, your fingertips circling, knowing this pace was just a tease and it was only tying you further into knots. “Se-S.Coups, God.”
His chuckle was a little rough, at least, and the way his hips bucked up into his hand, the way his brows drew together as he spoke, was quite possibly the sexiest thing you had ever seen. “Sound so fucking hot. You rubbing that needy clit of yours or are you fucking your fingers? Watching me stroking my cock, knowing you’re the one who got me hard, that all of this is for you.”
Fuck. You were going to die. And never, ever be able to look him in the eyes again. 
“R-Rubbing,” you managed to choke out, so, so glad he couldn’t see the way your body arched on the bed, the flush in your cheeks spread across every inch of you, or the mess you were making on the comforter beneath you. 
“Yeah?”
“M-Mhm.”
“So cute when you get shy on me, princess.”
“S-Shut up,” you argued out of instinct, words coming out too breathless to have any actual force behind them. 
“I don’t think you want me to shut up, though. I think you like it when I talk to you, when I tell you what to do and what you do to me.” The hand on his dick started moving faster and you could see the tension in the muscles of his forearms with every motion, hear the way his voice had dropped an octave, and your eyes flew to his face. Unable to look away while you let your own hand speed up and felt the way your desire ratcheted up, the twisted tension in your center started to fray. 
You think you made a noise to convey your disagreement, but given that you were also letting out little gasps and whimpers and – thank god – his camboy name every two seconds, he probably didn’t believe you any more than you did. 
In fact, the groaned, “Yeah, s’what I thought,” indicated he absolutely did not believe you. “I like doing it, too. Like how you’re so into it that you can’t even form sentences, can you?” 
“I – I can!”
His smile then was wolfish. “Really? Good because if you wanna come – and I know you’re getting close, peach, I can hear each and every one of those sounds you’re making for me – you know what you’ve gotta do.” 
How the hell was he still forming sentences like that? That’s what you wanted to know, but then you didn’t because this was his job so of course he could and wait, he wanted you to say– 
You whimpered. 
It wouldn’t take much at all for you to go over the edge, held together by a thread that was nearly frayed through. That it was Seungcheol you were watching, hearing, in complete control of this situation should have made it impossible for you to come, but somehow it made it better because it was him and you would maybe not unpack that later. 
“Please?”
“Beg so prettily, and I didn’t even have to ask, but that’s not what I’m waiting for. Whose are you? Just say the words and I’ll let you come.”
You might not be able to look him in the eyes when you saw him next, but you were definitely going to hit him. 
“Yours, okay. I’m yours,” you grit out. “Please, can I?” 
“Fuck,” he hissed and you watched his head press into the back of the chair behind him, saw his hand move to the base of his cock and stay there, squeezing. “That’s my girl. Yeah, princess. Did so good for me, you can come.”
So you did. 
Trying to keep your eyes open and on him as he heard his name – his “stage” name, anyway – fall from your lips in broken, breathless, gasped refrain while you came apart for him, body shaking with the force of the pleasure that swept through you. Sharp-edged bliss heightened by knowing he was listening to you, hearing the tension in his voice while he offered praises, “there you go,” “sound so damned sexy,” and, “I know it feels good.” By seeing the clench in his jaw and the sharp rise and fall of his chest, how it looked as though he had to fight the urge to thrust his hips if the death grip he had on the armrest and his cock were anything to go by. 
As you came down and tried to catch your breath, he crooned, “That’s one. You ready for another or are you gonna tap out on me already?”
You squeezed your eyes shut then and let out a breathy laugh. As if. 
-------------------------------------------
What you were not going to do, you told yourself as you lied in bed later that night – after the stream was over, showering and changing had been done, and it was just you tucked under the covers in the dark – was think too much about the whole thing. Or the implications of how much you’d enjoyed the experience not even in spite of your partner in debauchery being Seungcheol, but because your partner in said sin had been him. You absolutely could not, under any circumstances, actually, actively thirst after your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. You for damned sure weren’t allowed to like the man. And anyway, a lot of what you liked about him was probably just him leaning into the persona he’d created for himself. 
What you were going to do was chalk how into it you had been up to the inherent draw of doing something you knew you shouldn’t and wanting something that was bad for you. That was just human nature, wasn’t it? The lure of the forbidden. Everyone struggled with that. 
Everyone did, goddamn it. 
Cursing silently to yourself because you were doing the exact thing you had resolved not to do – namely, overthinking things – you gave yourself a mental shake, turned on your favorite “relaxing sleep music” playlist, and resettled into your pillow. 
This was fine. Everything was fine. 
You were just going to have to avoid Seungcheol until you were able to think about him without your brain immediately going to his soft, raspy voice in your ear telling you how good “I just know you’d feel around my cock,” and moaning “fuck, princess,” as he came, or the way he looked all fucked out post-orgasm, with his come covering his abdomen and that sated, soft, sleepy look in his eyes as he ended the stream and told you he’d see you later. Jesus, you were so screwed. 
Your curse this time was not silent, instead it was screamed into your pillow, in which you had buried your face. Fuck, okay, no. Just stick to the plan. Avoid him, delete your account on SVTHub, and pretend none of this ever happened. Totally doable. 
Suffice it to say, your sleep that night was restless.
next part
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stusbunker · 2 months
Text
Spotless: Lilt
Chapter Eight
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Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela
Other characters: Ash, Sam/Madison, Pamela, Lee, Kevin, Bobby, Frank, Tiny, Annie, and Dawn the bartender (Adam, Ellen and John/Kate mentioned)
Word Count: 2116
Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, mild drug use, minor jealous Dean, drinking, Dean gets a little existential and realizes he might have fucked up, unbeta'd
Series Masterlist
Divider courtesy of @cafekitsune
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The haze of the control room wasn’t noticeable the longer they sat in the small room facing Pam, Lee and Sam getting down the new track Lee wrote through the glass. Dean bobbed his head, bong braced against his lap, as Ash hummed in appreciation, eyes closed and headphones on. Kevin had wandered off to a smaller studio to work out a solo they wanted to put into “Prophet and Loss”. After that and "Hand Me My Axe", which Lee was shredding on at the moment, they’d have a full thirteen for the album. They’d already recorded the bonus acoustic versions of “Brother’s Keeper” and “Baby” for the deluxe editions.
Thank fuck those were behind him, because Dean cried through both of those sessions and Sam would never let him live it down, despite the sasquatch also getting misty during his verses. The fact that Sam wrote his own part and Dean didn’t know what it was going to convey until they were in the box, well, that was just unfair. He blamed it on Sam’s singing, because dude was not a vocalist, but really it had been a lot to hear what Sam went through when Dean was busy self-destructing. 
Whatever, Dean was in touch with his emotions now, who cared?
The finish line on this album was rapidly approaching and Dean was more stoked than he thought he’d be at doing something completely without Cas’ influence. Though he still heard Cas’ voice admonishing him sometimes, it had taken on a nostalgic tone the last couple of days. The music wasn’t the same without Cas, but it didn’t make it worse. 
God, did he miss him though.
Dean cleared his throat and took a hit, letting the mixed emotions have their moment until he carefully blew them all away. Lee was on fire and it was such a mesmerizing thing to watch him play as an audience member and not a collaborator. Sometimes he forgot how good his band was objectively speaking. The music and the energy of performing took over and they meshed making something magical, but beyond that Lee was a fucking genius on six-to-twelve strings.
They spent another twenty minutes laying it down and then broke for lunch. Dean checked his phone as Kevin and Ash hauled in the bags of take out that had been delivered to the front desk. Frank only let the local Chinese place deliver directly to the building, so it had become a weekly ritual instead of them constantly having to go out and find themselves sustenance in the middle of recording. Though Dean was slowly getting sick of it.
He had a couple of messages in their brother group chat from Adam about Christmas. The poor kid was stuck playing the messenger because Kate couldn’t bother to call him or Sam herself. There was a meme from Bela, of all things, and a check in from Ellen. Nothing from you. He thumbed down to the band business chat to see if you had at least been active there, but there was nothing since the shot of Crowley’s flowers.
At first they had thrown Dean for a loop, or a mild case of envy. Because he thought they were from that stupid gym rat waiter that had been hitting on you when he was trying to get to know Bela. But once he realized what chat it was in, it all made sense. Even if the weight of the flowers’ significance was lost on most of the band. 
Huh. Dean thumbed to your one-on-one conversation and sent out a simple “Everything going okay?” It was weird he hadn’t heard from you, especially after you bowed out of his home cooked, post-adoption-event dinner. He squinted, realizing he hadn’t talked to you in over a week, since the morning of Bela’s charity gig.
Since he’d gone down on your best friend in the back of a limo.
Christ, way to be an entire dumbass.
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The energy in the studio rallied, laughter and teasing rebounding after a slow start to their final day. Kevin had somehow got everyone to gang up on Sam, who now had a collection of post-it notes both insulting him and begging for violence slapped across his back. Dean took a pull off the bottle Lee had handed him and smirked as they watched Pamela saunter over to where Sam was checking his phone. 
She pinched Sam’s waist, which made him turn and back away from her, hands up in defense as she muttered some of her bullshit. Which left Sam’s back undefended.
“Oh, man, this is almost too easy,” Lee whispered.
“Tell me about it,” Dean agreed, chuckling as Kevin slipped another square of embarrassment onto Sam’s shoulder, butting into Sam and Pam’s conversation with a smoothness Dean had never expected out of the Juilliard graduate.
He handed the bottle back to Lee and pulled his guitar around and laid on a G chord, bringing everyone back to reality. “Alright, last song. Let’s fucking do it.”
The bass and drum parts were already locked in as far as Dean was concerned. Vocals finished yesterday. but hearing it all together made the music what it was. He wanted this one all at once, the final piece to the puzzle of this impossible album. Ash was at the controls, behind him was Bobby and Frank, who had shown up for the last leg of recording. Each nursing their own glass of stupidly expensive Scotch.
It was so close to done, Dean couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips as he stepped up to the mic that wasn’t even recording. And waited until Pamela counted them in. Every sensation zeroed into that moment, the strings beneath his finger tips, the weight of his guitar strap, the earpiece in his ear, the carpet beneath his boots and the pick in his right hand. He closed his eyes and felt it. 
And when he hit his entrance, he unleashed, nailing the take with his band at his side, crossing the finish line together.
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“Charrrrlie!” Dean purred into the phone. “Your presence is requested at that one dive bar you like so much past Silver Lake. We wrapped today and you owe me a few rounds, your highness!”
Sam shoved Dean playfully and reached past the backseat for a bottle of water out of the cooler. Nerd. 
“Sam says hi. Oh! Pick up Trouble and bring her with you, will ya? She’s been radio silent all week. Anyways, this message is about to cut out. But I know where you live and I will—” Dean lost the race with the time limit. He pressed the button to accept the message, however truncated and hung up.
Sam wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. “The other driver knows where to go?”
“Don’t worry, Tiny will get everybody there and back safe, won’t ya big guy?” Dean teased the unamused man that sometimes doubled as security for the label.
“We’re all set Mr. Winchester,” Tiny answered Sam with a glance in the rearview mirror.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of an unimpressive neighborhood bar ten blocks east of anything that had gentrified. Not a bouncer or a pap in sight, thank fuck. Dean plunked his half finished beer into a cup holder and held the door open for Sam to get out, still giggling at the few remaining scraps of paper that had made it back onto his shirt after he found them when he unhooked his bass.
They met Lee, Kevin, Pam and Bobby at the other provided black SUV before heading inside. The bar was dark for a sunny December workday afternoon in southern California, but the stale beer smell and the sight of well worn pool tables felt like home more than any vegan, new age-y, upstart lounge ever did. 
“Dibs on first game!” Dean called over his shoulder as he made his way to the bar to open a tab before Bobby could beat him to it. Wisely, Sam followed and plucked a menu out from a condiment tray, food was needed if they were gonna stay on their feet. Dean smiled at the bartender, a grizzled woman probably close to Annie’s age.
“Whatcha need sugar?” Her smokey greeting. 
Dean instantly thought of Ellen back home and he knew they made the right call coming all the way out here. He dragged out his credit card and slid it over.
“Open a tab, food and drinks on this card for any of those assholes by the pool tables, all night. Got it? The guy in the trucker cap is gonna try and outrank me, but don’t let him, capische?”
“You got it, handsome. What’s your poison?”
Dean cooed, “Oooo, careful, it’s still early. I’ll start with some wings if you got ‘em and a couple of baskets of fries, gotta ease into it. Then a round of shots of your choosin’ and a couple of pitchers of beer if you’d be so kind.”
“You got it. I’ll bring ‘em out when they’re ready. Anything for you big fella? Or is he sharing?” She asked Sam.
“I’ll have the club sandwich, but yeah, I think that’s it for now,” Sam smiled without teeth, but tucked a twenty into the tip cup to start off on the right foot.
“Sounds good boys, it’ll be right out.”
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Madison and Annie showed up together sometime after six, but as much as Dean liked giving Sammy shit for having a legitimate girlfriend and everything, they weren’t who Dean was watching the door for. Annie grabbed him for a tight hug, ruffling his hair as she pulled back. 
“Feel good, don’t it?” 
Dean grinned, almost blushing, but knowing she got it, not just the rush of finishing an album, but doing it as he was trying to drag himself up a hill too. “Couldn’t have done it without you, you know.”
Annie smacked her lips and turned on an aloof air, “I know. I mean, of all the many washed up power ballad divas out there, you got pretty lucky.”
“Shut up. Nobody is gonna call you washed up, not if I have anything to say about it.” Dean gestured the bartender over, who he learned was named Dawn, wanting to get Annie and Madison onto the massive bill they were racking up.
The night continued with the band and their significant others drinking and playing pool or pinball if you were Kevin. Dean was feeling pretty loose when Pam stagger-stepped over to him and threw her arm over his shoulder. 
“This was a good call, miss those seedy dives we used to play in,” she said with a drunken kind of nostalgia in her voice.
“Hell, we wouldn’t exist without places like this,” Dean nodded in agreement, clinking his bottle of beer with the empty dangling shot glass in her hand.
She licked her lips. “Where’s your lady friend, hmmm? I wanna meet her already.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Tonight is just for the band. And, well, Madison. But last thing I need is to ruin poor Dawn’s night with a bunch of fucking piranhas in here chasing the right shot.”
“Still—- doubt she’d show if it meant living it up in the low places,” Pam snarked.
Dean cleared his throat. “Hey now. Don’t go judging a book by it’s cover. Bela’s tougher than she looks.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Pam huffed and slapped him on the back just as he tried to take a sip. 
Dean glared.
Pam laughed. “Okay, boss, let me know when you’re ready for a rematch, I’m gonna go find the little girls’ room.”
“Don’t fall in!” Dean called after her, which earned him a middle finger and a nice view of her walking away in her low cut leather pants. 
Yeah, Dean was feeling the alcohol among other things. He decided he had waited long enough and checked his phone again when suddenly somebody punched him in the arm.
“What’s up bitches?!” Charlie shrieked.
Dean’s entire mood lifted and he let her pull him off his stool into a big brother little sister hug. “Glad you could make it, red.”
“And, look, she lives!” Charlie stepped back and presented Trouble to him like a game show prize.
Dean swallowed. He felt lost looking into your eyes, searching for any hint of hurt or anger. Luckily, you weren’t drunk yet, so you slipped easily into his arms and gave him a hug of your own. “Hey.”
“Congratulations,” you said against his chest.
Dean squeezed tighter. “Thanks,” knowing he meant it more than he could ever say.
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Chapter Nine: Giocoso
46 notes · View notes
softguarnere · 6 months
Note
Hi, Dove!
It’s been awhile! I hope you’re doing well!
Sending in an request, idk where this is going😂
Okay so female reader with Liebgott and something along the lines where one of them yells “BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, YOU IDIOT!” in the middle of an argument. I’m not really sure about the rest of the details, so you can do whatever you want😂
Have a great day!
Hardheaded At Best
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Joe Liebgott x reader
A/N: Hi lovely! Thanks so much for another wonderful request! I hope you enjoy it, and that you have a great day as well 💕 (This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Warnings: language, mentions of war
When was the last time that you felt this angry, this fired up? Some distant part of you wonders as white-hot wrath courses through your veins. Your nails dig into the soft beds of your palms, barely containing yourself as you stalk through the hallways, boots echoing off the walls of the remnants of Haguenau’s buildings. Although you think you’re doing a pretty good job of appearing calm, the people who pass you by give you concerned looks as they watch you go. Is it that obvious?
Either it’s not, or Liebgott is good at pretending. Because when you stomp into the room, he only glances up at you. He doesn’t look ready to fight, or even to throw a witty remark your way.
For a moment, you just stand before him, spluttering as you work out what to say and gasping as you try to catch your breath over the adrenaline caused by the anger surging through you. Finally, you manage to spit out the simplest question you can manage. “Joey, what did you do?”
The two of you are the only ones in the room. There’s no one else around. No one else to look cool for, to perform for. Yet Joe continues calmly smoking his cigarette. He blows a smoke ring, as if you haven’t just demanded an answer, then grinds out his cigarette and looks up at you, completely neutral.
“I did what I had to do.”
“Am I the only person in second platoon not going on this patrol?” You wonder aloud. “Tab said that you volunteered to take my place.”
Joe shrugs. “Yeah.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing a lungful of air to try and calm yourself. You don’t want to yell. Hell, you and Joe were so competitive back in Toccoa, half teasing and half not as you competed against each other in everything, that you’ve been determined not to argue since you finally became friends back Holland. But this – this is testing your resolve.
“Why would you do that?” You ask slowly, emerging from behind your hand to look at him again – still infuriatingly casual.
“(Y/N), the war is almost over.”
“So they say.”
“I’m not risking losing you over there,” Joe says. “We’ve been watching each other’s backs forever now. But we’re too close to making it out of this thing to risk it all now. Besides, what’s the point of having two translators?”
He’s not risking losing you over there? “But what about you, huh? I don’t want to lose you either, Joe.”
“Had to be one of us.”
He’s right. Someone has to be able to communicate with the prisoners that will be taken. But if someone has to go, you would prefer that both of you cross that river. Then one of you wouldn’t be waiting anxiously all night. You could watch each other’s backs, just like you’ve been doing.
Any points you might make to refute his lodge in your throat, sticking there while you fumble. Liebgott is hardheaded at the best of times; you don’t know what to say to make him see this from your perspective.
The conflicting emotions must show on your face, because Joe cocks an eyebrow in question. “Why does this bother you so much, anyway? It’s not like this is the first time only one of us has gone on a patrol.”
No, but it’s the first time that this has happened since you became friends. Since you started caring about him. Since you started worrying about losing him . . .
That’s when the realization hits you. The emotion that underlies all of your internal conflict isn’t anger – it’s fear. Fear of losing someone you’ve grown to care for.
“Joe, I can’t let you go alone. I’ll talk to Speirs myself. I – “
“(Y/N), no!” In a second, Joe jumps up from his chair and places a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyes are wide, and he’s got an expression that you’ve never seen before, and that you can’t quite place. “I got you taken off that patrol for a reason.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have,” you retort, a renewed wave of anger sweeping over you. “It wasn’t your choice to make.”
“I did it because I love you, you idiot!” Joe exclaims. Then he blinks, as if stunned by his own words. Perhaps they did not have his permission to be spoken. Or maybe they weren’t planned, or he doesn’t know where they came from.
You certainly don’t. Don’t know where they came from, that is. Joe never seemed interested in anything romantic with you. You, however, have occasionally allowed your mind to wander to a place where your friend is something a little more – a place where he holds your hand and reserves all his warmest smiles just for you. You never would have imagined that his mind had wandered in a similar direction. “You – you what?”
Joe hesitates, then nods, confirming his words to both you and himself. “I love you, (Y/N). That’s why I got you taken off the patrol. So that I don’t have to worry about you.”
“That’s why I want to be on the patrol – with you! So I don’t have to worry.”
“Oh.” Joe blinks again, taking it all in. “I tried to protect you. You tried to protect me. We both fucked up.” He tilts his head, studying you. “Do you really?”
“What?”
“Love me?”
“Yes,” you answer with no hesitation. It’s strange to say it out loud. To realize it, here, in this moment, at maybe the same time that he did. And right before the patrol places you on two different sides of that river, where God knows what will happen.
Gently, Liebgott takes your hand. His lips are warm when he presses them against your knuckles in a sweet kiss. “Then I have a reason to make it back across the river.”
Your heart trips over itself in your chest. How cruel is fate, to let it happen like this. “You better. Joseph Liebgott, I swear to God, you better come back from the patrol.”
But maybe fate isn’t cruel after all. Because you’ve hardly left the room, hardly stepped outside, when Major Winters stops the two of you and informs you that Joe will not be crossing the river – he will be staying firmly on this side to provide covering fire, with you.
The major walks away like nothing happened, leaving the two of you confused, but smiling. You can’t help but laugh as you take it in. “What happened?” You wonder aloud. After all, how are they going to take German prisoners without a translator?
“No clue.” Joe squeezes your hand. “But I ain’t complaining.”
It’s brief, but from across the street, Webster catches your eye. The Harvard man gives you a nod. He’s a writer. A romantic, even.
You return the gesture, wondering if Joe saw it as well. “Yeah. Me neither.”
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txt-yaomi · 8 months
Text
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ Echoes of Connection ⌦ .。.:*♡
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wc: 800 | taehyun x oc | genre: fluff | rate: G | warning: none
request.
EVENT PROMPT: “Put a jacket on before you leave,” + Fixing their clothe/hair
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As the cameras roll, the members of TXT are on set filming their music video for "Can't You See Me." The atmosphere is lively and full of excitement. Angel's eyes sparkle as she prepares for the bathtub scene, ready to give her best performance.
Taehyun stands on the sidelines, watching intently as Angel gets into character. He holds a jacket in his hands, knowing she'll need it once the scene is over. He can't help but admire her dedication and talent. "She's such a pro," he whispers to himself, smiling.
As the scene begins, Angel gets immersed in her role, showing a mix of vulnerability and strength. Water splashes around her, and she gets wet during the emotional performance. The director calls out "cut," and the crew applauds her outstanding acting.
Seeing his chance, Taehyun hurries over to Angel with the jacket, concern etched on his face. "Put a jacket on before you leave," he says softly, draping it over her shoulders. The affection in his voice warms her heart, and she smiles gratefully at him.
Later, during a break between shots, Angel and Taehyun stand together, reminiscing about the video's concept. Taehyun passionately shares his thoughts, and Angel playfully teases him about his acting skills. She lovingly ruffles his hair as she laughs, and he grins back at her, feeling their bond growing stronger with every moment they spend together.
Standing infront of the camera, the duo begin to discuss the music video, “Whew, that was quite the scene, wasn't it?” She said sipping her drink that Yeonjun brought from the staff
“Definitely. But you know what? I think it's going to look incredible in the final cut.” Taehyun nodded, making Angel smile. “Oh, Mr. Optimist over here”
Leading to the boy grinning, he teasingly looks behind the camera, “Well, someone's got to be, right? And you were amazing in there, by the way. Seriously, your emotions were so raw.”
“Thanks, Tae. But I've got to hand it to you too. You're nailing your part. Looking at the camera with such serious eyes” Angel said chuckle and imitating the boys scene.
Due to her words, it make Taehyun scoff since he does not believe her words, “oh, come on. I've seen better acting from a potato.”
“A potato, huh? You're too hard on yourself. You're doing great.” she reassured as the boy continued “seriously though, I'm learning so much from watching you. The way you express yourself, it's like you're in your own world.”
“Ahhh terry! I can't take all the credit. Maybe you're just lost in my world.” Angel said blushing at his thoughtful words. “Maybe I am. But hey, don't you dare tell anyone about that!”
“MOA’s and My lips are sealed, oh great potato actor.” she teases making him laugh
“I really think this concept is something special. It's like we're unraveling layers of emotion and showcasing different sides of ourselves.” Taehyun mentions a bit of the song as the girl nods along.
A playful silence settles between them, their eyes locked in a shared understanding. Angel reaches out and fixes a strand of Taehyun's hair that's fallen out of place.
Gently she says, “There you go. Back to looking fresh, thanks to my hairstyling skills”
“Is this the famous Angel hairstyling technique?” Taehyung masks in a mocking shock tome
“You bet. I have many hidden talents.” She said laughing, “Lucky me, then.” He said smiling
They share a warm smile, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment. The set buzzes with activity around them, but in this little corner, it's just Angel and Taehyun, two friends sharing a genuine connection.
Throughout the day, there are several heartwarming moments between the two. Taehyun makes sure to check on Angel between takes, bringing her water and snacks, ensuring she's comfortable. Angel, in turn, never misses a chance to give Taehyun encouraging words and compliments, making him feel appreciated and cared for.
As the sun sets and filming wraps up, the members gather for a group hug, celebrating the successful shoot. Angel and Taehyun share a heartfelt embrace, their platonic love evident in their eyes. "We did it!" Angel exclaims, and Taehyun replies, "Yeah, and you were amazing!"
The behind-the-scenes video captures not only the hard work and dedication of TXT but also the genuine affection and camaraderie between Angel and Taehyun. Fans around the world can't help but swoon over the adorable moments, cherishing the special bond that shines brightly both on and off the screen.
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you made it till the end !!
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Text
How do I say goodbye?
It was a pleasant afternoon, the hot sun made cool by the breeze blowing in off the ocean. The kind of afternoon that made you want to turn up your music to just this side of too loud and roll down all the windows as you drove, which is exactly what Ice did. He’d made up his mind to suggest dinner outside on the back deck that night when he pulled into the drive, smiling when he saw Maverick’s bike. 
Spinning his car keys on a finger, Ice stepped into their small house, greeted by a gentle blast coming from the AC. Keys in the bowl, bag on the hook, shoes off, it was a well-practiced dance Ice performed with utmost grace. 
“Nice day, huh Mav?” Ice called out into the suspicious quiet of the house. “Mav? How was your day?” He tried again, but still nothing. Looking around the door frame into the living room, Ice finally found the other pilot. “Mav?” Ice called out softly upon spotting him. 
Stepping closer, Ice took in the sight before him. Maverick was sat on the edge of the couch, the landline held limply in his hand, eyes unseeing. As Ice neared, he could hear the quiet buzz of the deadline through the speaker of the phone. How long had Maverick been sitting there? 
“Mav?” Ice knelt down and placed his hand on Maverick’s knee, ducking his head to try and look into his eyes, but Maverick only looked through him. “Pete-” It was the use of his Christian name that cause Maverick to stutter out of his stillness. 
“Ice?” His voice was hoarse.
“Maverick, what happened?” Ice gently lifted the phone out of Maverick’s hands and placed it back in the receiver without looking away from him.
“I-” Maverick’s eyes were quickly beginning to gloss over, “Viper’s dead.” 
Ice breathed out audibly and began to run his hand up and down Maverick’s arm. “Oh Mav, I’m…” Ice didn’t know what to say. It began to dawn on him, Maverick had been only six when his father had gone MIA. He hadn’t gotten to really mourn, he barely remembered a time when he’d had a father. Viper had been so much more than a CO to him, for all intents and purposes, Maverick had just lost the only person in his life who could come close to being a father in his eyes. Ice swallowed, “I’m sorry.” What else did you say to someone who just lost a father? 
“Ice, I-” Several emotions flashed across Maverick’s face in the second he’d paused before finally his face settled in a pinch expression, his lip beginning to quiver under the tenseness. “He was like…” Maverick’s watery voice brought tears to Ice’s eyes. He hadn’t sounded like this since Goose. 
“I know,” Ice pulled Maverick into his chest, wrapping his arms around his back, fingers clutching tight to Maverick’s tee. Maverick’s breath gave a tentative hitch before he collapsed into the safety of Ice’s arms and broke down with his face buried in Ice’s neck. The carpet was beginning to burn Ice’s knees, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, any pain he might feel at that moment was surely nothing compared to what Maverick must be going through. Ice squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face to plant gentle kisses into the inky mass of Maverick’s hair, rocking them gently. Whatever Maverick needed, Ice decided, he would provide. This was a generally excepted fact any day of the week, but now more than ever, Ice resolved. 
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year
Text
Oc-tober Day Ten – Movie Night
Yandere Slasher Director – Elliot Wiltshire 
Word count: 800
The brunette male checks the time on his watch, clicking his tongue as the seconds go by. “6:48…” 
He bounces his foot against the concrete floor as he does the math in his head. “Doesn’t give me a lot of time. Better get things started now.”
Elliot swings the bucket cradled in his opposite arm backwards, dumping its contents over a man tied to one of the room's support beams as he hurls it forward. The man is slow to rise despite the coldness of the water – till the bucket comes crashing down on his skull. He jolts to full attention, scanning his surroundings with frantic eyes. Though the only light in the room comes from a computer monitor, he can tell he’s in a basement. The walls and floor are covered in a black tarp and there’s a horrible stench in the air. He realizes the source of it is himself as he looks down at the dark stains crawling down the length of his shirt. He retches.
“Try not to throw up. I only have about twenty-six hours to edit, and I don’t want the smell of vomit in my workspace.”
His head spins, neck unable to carry the weight of his swollen skull as it rolls to the side.. “What… what the fuck is going on?” 
Elliot snaps his fingers. “Hey, hey, Michael? Can you hear me?” He adds support to the base of his neck. “You got hit pretty hard earlier. What can you remember, Michael?” 
Michael tries to point his attention to the man. The apron over his green turtleneck is covered in spots similar to the ones on his first. “huh?”
Elliot cuts into his windpipe with his fingers.. “What do you remember.” 
That seems to jog his memory. Michael rambles. “I-I was just delivering some pizzas and the last order was to this creepy place in the middle of nowhere. I got dragged inside and then- I can’t remember much after that..”
Elliot sigh, standing up. “That’s good enough. You put up a pretty good fight and got away. I would’ve finished you off then, but that couple down the road took you in. Really sucks. Seems like they were just a nice old couple.. i hope we’ll be like that someday. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. They’ll be good props for the second filming…” His eyes narrow as he mutters to himself. “Fuck, that’s probably a spoiler… Eh, your reaction should still be good enough when you see them.” 
With his lucidity returning, Michael lashes out; bruising his crushed ribs against the chains wrapped around them. “Who the fuck do you think you are, man?! Why are you doing this!?” 
Elliot's neutral expression becomes a half smile; emotion flashing in his eyes. “Me? Just a guy looking to impress the person he likes. I’ve been trying to get away from this life. Gone back to school and all that. It’s where I met them actually. We have a few things in common. For one, they love a good horror movie. Just like me.”
He kneels again, tapping Michael’s shoulder with a rusty cleaver. “You’ve met them too, you know? Did some.. searching around and found out their address. All I wanted was to treat my partner to something nice, and then you had to go and start flirting with them.”
Michael trembles as Elliot drags the teeth of the blade along his neck, stopping at the jugular. “Please… Just let me go.”
Elliot chuckles, tossing the knife across the floor and making Michael jump by reflex. He drinks in the man’s sobs as he leans in.
“I will – eventually. I only woke you up to give you some tips on your performance. I really like this person and it seems like they might feel the same in some way. They've asked to come over a couple times, and I want to make the best impression I can so do me a favor and scream nice and loud, alright?” 
Michael screams.
-
Elliot steps over the coffee table as a frightened face pops up on the television screen. He holds out the bowl of popcorn in his hand as he sits down beside you.
“Want some more?”
You reach around in the air for the bowl until he places it within grabbing range, eyes glued to the tv. You wince as a hacksaw cuts through the delivery man’s torso before breaking out into a smile. 
“Oof, that one looked like it really hurt. I didn’t know what to expect when you said you made horror films, but this is good, Elli.”
Elliot takes in your praise as he sneaks an arm around you. He leans in and kisses your hair as he then whispers. “The only thing better than a good horror movie scream is you, Y/n.” 
204 notes · View notes
cowboyjigen · 1 year
Text
WHATS A GUY GOTTA DO?!
or zoro tries (and fails) to swoon the person of his dreams (multiple times)
warnings: joking angst (zoro is just bad with emotions), love-drunk zoro agenda, simp zoro agenda, zoro agenda :), zoro gets advice from the wrong people (sanji, frankie, brook), chopper wing man arc, i probably didn’t capitalize names cause ugh, these tags aren’t fully accurate i just can’t be bothered lmao
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“Sanji. You cannot say anything to anyone about this.” Sanji looked up from the plates in front of him, side-eyeing the swordsman.
“Say anything about what?” He fully turned to Zoro, who was standing in the doorway holding what looked to be a box of chocolates and flowers. “And just who are those for?” He half-laughed, racking his brain for who Zoro would go as far as buying sweets for.
Zoro cleared his throat before speaking, “They’re, uh, for Y/N.” His face flushed as he looked away from the blonde.
“And who convinced you to get those?”
Still looking away he answered, “Chopper.” That was it for Sanji, he couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore.
“You need far more than that to woo the true beauty that is Y/N. Let me help.” Zoro cringed, he know this was going to be a bad idea. 
But alas, he didn’t have any other options so he nodded.
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“What are you two doing?” A voice rang from bellow where the two stood.
“Zoro is wants to get with Y/N!” Sanji called back, peering over the edge, “I’m helping him set up an uber romantic dinner venue.”
Brook let out a laugh, “Dinner is never complete without entertainment! Oh I know I’ll write a song to perform just for the pair of you!” He danced around joyously “Oh but first let me help you set up!”
Brook hopped up to be met by an eccentric Sanji and equally embarrassed Zoro. “Now, do you think a cream or vanilla table cloth goes better?”
Zoro stood awkwardly to the side as the two gushed over things that he thought were honestly just trivial. Flower placement, which side the salad fork goes, where to perfect put each chair so the lighting was right. If made his head hurt, so he quietly moved off to the side where he found Frankie looking confused at the antics.
“What’s all that about?”
“I made the mistake of agreeing to have Sanji help with asking Y/N out.”
“If it’s a date you want then you just gotta impress them with your sick moves and body!” He struck a pose and Zoro looked down at himself for a second.
He couldn’t really fathom what was special. Sure he’s a good swordsman, and his body isn’t all that bad. But the longer he looked the more scars of failure he noticed and the more he noticed the more in his head he became.
So engrossed in his insecurities, Zoro failed to notice the person walking towards him. He also failed to notice the shouting of his name until two hands were placed on his shoulder.
“Huh?” He finally looked up, Frankie was gone. In the distance he could see Brook and Sanji waiting for an all clear. His cheeks flushed again.
“I said, do you know what they’re up too?” a thumb jutted backwards, he didn’t need to look to see what they were pointing at.
“It’s um. They helped me. Uh.” He stuttered before cursing under his breath, “They were helping me set up dinner. I was hoping you’d join me? As a date?”
“Hmm, Sanji’s cooking, Brook’s singing, and you,” a finger was pointed at his chest, “as my date? How could I say no.”
Zoro smiled taking Y/N by the hand, “Then by all accounts,” he gestured to the table.
“Y’know, if you wanted to ask me out you could have just gotten me chocolates.” Zoro blushed for the nth time that day, he’d have to tell Chopper that he was right all along.
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jujumin-translates · 1 year
Text
Event | the Rad Red | Epilogue: Longing Red
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Tenma: …
Taichi: Ten-chan, c’mere~…
Taichi: Saved a spot for you over on the edge here…
Tenma: Sorry about that. Hey, what’s with your voice?
Taichi: I gave it my all singing at yesterday’s finale and kinda wrecked my voice~...
Tenma: Yeah, that’s inevitable if you do that…
Tenma: Here, try this, it's good on the throat. I carry it all the time.
Taichi: Huh~, honey? I’ll give it a try.
Taichi: …
Taichi: Hm? Huh?
Taichi: This really is good!
Tenma: Still doesn’t mean you should be pushing yourself too hard.
Taichi: Thanks for the pro tip, Ten-chan!
Tenma: The live music at the end of the Autumn Troupe play was really good. It really raised the quality of the show overall.
Tenma: It’s amazing that you were able to perfect the band to that level, and I think that you were only able to get the best out of it because you were the lead, Taichi.
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Taichi: Ehehe, thanks!
Tenma: I went with the rest of Summer Troupe to see it and Yuki praised it too. Kazunari and Kumon were making a huge fuss while being all emotional over the whole thing.
Tenma: Muku said some of the band stuff reminded him of a guy from a shoujo manga and Misumi was completely fixated on the guitar picks being triangles.
Taichi: Ahaha! I’m glad you all liked it!
Tenma: It was different to see you with black hair instead of red hair, Taichi. But I don’t think it had anything to do with the difference in flashiness.
Tenma: It had more to do with seeing how amazing your presence was when you were leading the band with your passion for music.
Taichi: Ten-chan…
Taichi: (I’m glad that Ten-chan, of all people, recognized that.)
Taichi: (I used to just dye it from black to red to compete with Ten-chan when he was starring in all those drama shoots…)
Taichi: (I don’t need to do that anymore. Now it’s purely just my identity.)
Taichi: Have you ever wanted to change your hair color from what it is now, Ten-chan?
Tenma: My hair color?
Tenma: I’ve never really thought about it because I’m happy with the way it is now…
Tenma: But I’d change it to whatever color I’d need it to be for a role. That’s just an actor’s nature, y’know?
Taichi: …Yeah!
Taichi: (That’s right… I’ll keep dyeing my hair to be the “Taichi Nanao” I wanna be.)
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Azami: Wrapping up the play run at this place again, huh.
Omi: We came here for the 8th performance too, didn’t we?
Director: We’ve been coming here so often…
Banri: We’re like regulars, aren’t we?
Juza: Coulda gone to Zen-san’s restaurant…
Taichi: We get to eat a whole Manchu-Han Imperial Feast when we come here, so why wouldn’t we!
Rento: Well, s’not like we get Chinese food often so, I’m all for it.
Manager: That’s right~. Plus, we can eat here without worrying about the price and Furuichi-san’s gaze~.
Azami: Knew it was just because of the budget.
Sakyo: Just shut up and eat.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Taichi: Are you gonna drink, Juza-san? I heard that the fruit wine here is really good~.
Juza: Nah, I shouldn’t, if I drink too much I’ll get drunk…
Taichi: It’ll be fine~!
Azami: Why are you trying to get him drunk?
Taichi: I wanna see the Juza-san who praises me for the performance!
Azami: You’re just greedy.
Rento: Uuuue… Truly a god of all gods! I’m in the presence of a god of arrangements!
Director: So this is what Rento-san is like when he’s drunk.
Omi: His baseline adoration had gone up to a whole other level.
Rento: How are you able to make arrangements like a god!?
Manager: Ahaha, they’re really not that good~.
Rento: You are THE god…!
Banri: Whatcha drinking, Sakyo-san?
Sakyo: Since we’re here, might as well try some Chinese alcohol.
Banri: Never heard of it before.
Sakyo: The alcohol content is high, so drink it in moderation.
Manager: Furuichi-saaan! Pleeeease listen to Kinozaki-kun about all my accomplishments! And please give me a raise!
Sakyo: Haah? Tch, I’m coming over by you now, don’t yell.
Banri: …Whoa, damn this is strong.
Taichi: Is it good, Ban-chan?
Banri: Hm? Ain’t bad.
Taichi: Whoa…
Banri: Don’t start askin’ me questions like you’re one of my relative’s kids or somethin’.
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Taichi: Ahaha!
Taichi: I’m really glad we were able to make the best song ever for this. And it’s all thanks to you, Ban-chan.
Taichi: It was fun to hang out in the studio like that. It was like we were real teenagers in a band.
Banri: I really thought the lyrics you wrote were legit good, Taichi.
Banri: As for the play, I really liked the surprisingly subtle emotions you had.
Banri: When you played Daichi, I thought you had really detailed facial expressions when we faced each other on stage.
Banri: Even from a production standpoint, I loved seeing you take on the challenge of playing a role that was super different from your usual self.
Banri: I guess there’s just some roles that only you can play because of what you’ve been through.
Taichi: Hehe, I’m happy to hear that from you, Ban-chan~.
Rento: Y’all put on a great live and performance!
Rento: Not to mention that the godly arrangement, the melody, and the lyrics were all great! It’s a sound that y’all could’ve only created ‘cause of who you are now.
Taichi: Thanks!
Banri: I learned a little bit about composing from this, so maybe I’ll be able to look into it more with Rento-san for the next performance.
Rento: Lookin’ forward to it!
Rento: Ooh, you’re drinkin’ some good alcohol there. This one’s good too~.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Juza: Fuu…
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Omi: Did you drink too much?
Juza: Nah, but I ate too much.
Banri: Every time we come here, you always eat too many sesame dumplings.
Juza: Shut it. This time I had more annin tofu.
Banri: Pft… Hahahaha! So you had even more than usual. Fuckin’ dumbass. Hahaha!
Taichi: Ban-chan seems to be more giggly than usual.
Omi: He must be drunk.
Sakyo: As I figured, the Chinese alcohol was too strong for Settsu.
Taichi: This kind of Ban-chan is interesting too.
Director: Banri-kun has a high tolerance, so it’s rare to see him drunk.
Director: When you turn 20, you’ll be able to make a toast with Sakyo-san and the others who can drink, Taichi-kun.
Taichi: That’s true~... Man, I feel a little older just think~ing about it!
Director: Ahaha, is that so?
Taichi: When I first joined the troupe, Sakyo-nii seemed way more mature than me and also seemed more distant from me, but…
Taichi: My impression of him has changed since we’ve been on stage together a lot and gotten to know each other more.
Taichi: But there is one think that I’ve always admired about Sakyo-nii and the other Autumn Troupe members ever since the first performance.
Taichi: Everyone has their own passionate feelings inside that are burning like a bright red flame.
Taichi: The bright red color that I love so much is also the color that each and every Autumn Troupe member has.
Director: Red is the color of Autumn Troupe, huh? I guess it really is.
Director: (I’ve had this thought before, but Taichi-kun really is becoming a more and more wonderful young man by the day.)
Director: (I’m looking forward to seeing him grow up to be just as wonderful of an adult as he is now, with that same bright red hair.)
Taichi: I wonder if I’d be more popular if I became a man who looks hella fine drinking.
Director: I’m glad to see that same Taichi-kun-like way of thinking hasn’t changed at all.
Taichi: Popularity is one of my most important motivators after all!
[ ⇠ Previous Part ]
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the-himawari · 1 year
Text
A3! Minagi Tsuzuru - Translation [SSR] MANKAI Party (2/3)
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*Please read disclaimer on blog
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Tsuzuru: Thanks for helping me out today.
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Omi: Sure, no problem. I never imagined this would be the location though.
Tsuzuru: I’d like to film as we take a leisurely walk.
Omi: I see. Alright, can I start filming then?
Tsuzuru: Yeah, go ahead. Hi there, it’s Minagi Tsuzuru. Fushimi-san is the one in charge of the camera.
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Omi: Hello.
Tsuzuru: We’ve come to the riverside today. The thing is, I get asked quite often in my fan letters and comments on how I take my breaks. It’s been hard to find a chance to answer that, so I thought I’d take this opportunity to actually show you guys.
Omi: So you’re saying this is the place you come to take a breather?
Tsuzuru: That’s right. When I get stuck while I’m writing, I find that doing something different helps get the ideas flowing. So, when I gaze out and walk by the waterside like this, I can both relax and come up with good ideas. It kills two birds with one stone.
Omi: Oh, really? I guess there are still things about you that I didn’t know either…
Tsuzuru: Hm? Oh, there’s dandelions blooming over there. Can we go take a quick look?
Omi: Sure, no problem.
Tsuzuru: They bloomed here, huh… I’ve been here so many times, yet I had no idea.
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Omi: Looks like a new discovery. Do you like dandelions, Tsuzuru?
Tsuzuru: Hmm, I suppose you can say that? I have an emotional attachment to this flower. I find myself looking for it whenever spring comes around…
Omi: An emotional attachment?
Tsuzuru: It’s a flower of a precious memory with a friend.
Omi: Ah, a friend…
Tsuzuru: We’ve been friends since elementary school, and he’s the one who inspired me to start writing scripts. There was a period of time we weren’t in contact with each other. But we reunited and we were able to become friends all over again. Now, that friend comes to the theatre every time to watch my performances. And he sends me fan letters and dandelion bouquets.
Omi: …That’s a great memory. And a great friend.
Tsuzuru: Yes…!
Takeru: Tsuzuru nii-chan!?
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Yuzuru: Omi onii-chan’s here too!
Tsuzuru: Takeru? Yuzuru? How come you two are here!?
Takeru: Yaaay, it’s Tsuzuru nii-chan!
Yuzuru: Onii-chan!
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Tsuzuru: Hey, don’t run. You’re going to fall.
Kaoru: Why are you here, onii-chan?
Tsuzuru: Even you, Kaoru… what are all of you doing here?
Kaoru: Those two said they wanted to go out and play. So we all came together to have some fun.
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Yuzuru: Tsuzuru onii-chan, upsies!
Tsuzuru: Okay, okay. Up we go.
Yuzuru: Yay!
Takeru: Tsuzuru nii-chan, Omi onii-chan, let’s play together!
Tsuzuru: Err, we’re filming right now though…
Omi: Why don’t we join them? I think playing with your little brothers is another way to take a breather, right?
Tsuzuru: Another way to take a breather? …Well, you might be right about that. (I mean, I can just cut the footage later if it ends up unusable…) Alright, let’s do it!
Yuzuru: Woohoo!
Takeru: Let’s play tag!
---
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dat-town · 2 months
Text
falling for you
never seen circus masterpost
Characters: trapeze artist!Serim & female reader
Setting & genre: magical realism au, circus au
Summary: You place your life into Serim’s hands day after day, yet you can’t help but fear that one day he will let you go.
Warnings: general creepiness of an eerie circus, ambiguous ending, emotional manipulation (not between the main characters), mentions of vomiting, unrequited love
Words: 1.4k
@restlessmaknae i can't believe you guessed him
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Sometimes it felt like you could fly.
Weightless. Free. Extraordinary.
Even if just for a few seconds.
And then gravity took a hold of you again, pulling you down with its magnetic field and you were falling, falling, falling… until Serim caught you.
The boy with the sweetest of smiles, twinkling chocolate eyes and wide shoulders you could always lean on. He was the best partner you could ever wish for: trustworthy, reliable, considerate and strong enough to hold up both your weights on a single trapeze when it was needed.
No wonder he caught someone else’s eyes too.
It was subtle at first, this one girl always lingering around after the Friday performances, hoping to catch the sight of Serim and tell him how much she admired him. You didn’t think anything ill of it in the beginning, it was innocent and cute and truthfully, your partner deserved every compliment he could get because he really was an amazing trapeze artist. Not to mention, it’s not like you had the right to be jealous. Despite the deep bond of trust you shared, Serim and you were just co-workers, nothing more, nothing less. Your foolish feelings for him were completely one-sided.
So you stayed quiet, only watching from the sidelines with this itchy, uncomfortable feeling bubbling under your skin as this girl approached the boy. At first you thought that he was just being polite, that he didn’t want to hurt this girl’s feelings by rejecting her but then you started wondering whether he really liked her and once you started, you couldn’t stop.
“Want some?” Serim sat down next to you with a relieved sigh, offering you a box of what looked like homemade chocolate cookies. It was the pink sprinkle on top that made you wary.
“What’s this?” You frowned at him, eyeing the dessert suspiciously but the boy seemed unaware of your feelings as he had been already happily munching on a piece of cookie.
“A gift from a fan,” he shrugged and nudged your arm with the box playfully. It wasn’t the movement but his words that made you alarmed.
“You shouldn’t just accept everything you are given, it could be dangerous,” you scolded the boy, trying to cover your jealousy with worry but the boy just ruffled your hair with a happy-go-around smile.
“Come on, relax. Clarisse is the circus healer’s daughter, what harm could possibly come my way?” He reassured you but your body stiffened under his familiar touch despite how used you were to his closeness after the years of routines.
Clarisse now, huh? What’s next, girlfriend?
You rolled your eyes when the boy didn’t take his intense gaze off you and eventually took a cookie from the box he so happily devoured just to shut him up. Tentatively, you took a bite, grimacing at the too sweet taste but even that was worth it to see Serim’s smile and you went along with it, listening to him tell you about this new routine he was thinking of for your next big performance. With your bare shoulders touching, talking about something you both were enthusiastic about almost made you forget about Clarisse.
Just almost because later that night you woke up with nausea and rushing to the bathroom, you coughed up the remains of her homemade cookies. You heaved heavily as you held your weight over the toilet, the pink sprinkles more vivid than ever against the white ceramic. You flushed it all down and washed your mouth, the feeling of uneasiness slowly settling down.
You didn’t sleep well after that and the next day you wanted to hurry and ask Serim before your practice whether he was okay or he got sick too but he couldn’t have looked healthier or giddier when you saw him by the tent. There was a wide smile on his lips and his eyes were shining like whenever you told him something he found fascinating such as random fun facts about gravity, but this time neither his eyes nor his smile were directed at you. He was staring at Clarisse, hanging on each of her words like a puppy waiting for pats. You felt like an outsider watching their interaction and no matter how much you tried to gulp down the bitter taste of jealousy, it was right in your face. You might have been petty but you also didn’t want to put your job on the line, so you raised your chin up and walked over to the duo with your arms crossed in front of your chest.
“Can we start?” You turned to Serim, rudely not acknowledging the other girl. You just didn’t think you could have looked at her without looking mean.
“Oh, Y/N! Right, we should,” the boy muttered with a confused giggle before turning back to Clarisse, still holding her hand. “Sorry, love, I’ve got to go. Meet me after practice?”
You almost choked on air. Love? When did that happen? He didn’t seem in love just the day before.
Clarisse pressed a chaste kiss to the boy’s cheek that flushed a pretty pink colour afterwards and you felt ashamed when you were caught staring.
“Is everything okay?” Serim asked, worried, probably because of your flabbergasted look and you could feel the burning gaze of the girl on you too.
“Yes, of course,” you lied through your teeth.
Nothing was okay.
Your suspicions were confirmed when you visited the circus healer. You said nothing about the food you ate being from his daughter nor Serim’s out of character behaviour. You solely told him about the nausea, the weird sparkly thing and how only you seemed to be negatively affected from the food, not others who ate it.
“That sounds like the typical side effect of consuming a potion that wasn’t meant for you,” the man said and prepared some herb tea for your stomach.
“What kind of potion?”
“Oh, it can be a lot of things, truth serum, memory booster, such things,” the man explained absentmindedly but you only started paying more attention when he continued: “As well as love potion, although those are strictly forbidden because some consequences cannot be undone and often lead to obsession instead of love.”
You hoped you sounded more put together than what you felt when you asked how difficult it was to make a love potion. The man smiled at you kindly and reassured you that some ingredients were so rare that in the entire circus it was only his collection that had it. Little did he know that it was exactly what you were afraid of: being his daughter, Clarisse must have had access to everything needed for a love potion.
Cannot be undone. The words echoed in your ears, frightening. Still, there must have been something you could do, right? There was an infamous curse-breaker in the circus but you weren’t sure they would be able to help. Was love a curse after all?
Even if you couldn’t change Serim’s love, because you just had your biggest fight ever when you dared to tell him that he acted like he was under a love potion’s spell, you should have tried to root out yours. Maybe then it would have hurt less to watch him being all lovey-dovey with Clarisse and drift further and further away from you. Whenever you tried to talk to him about ‘the love of his life’, he shot down anything negative you could have said and soon, you barely saw him, only when the two of you had practice for your performances and even then Serim was more and more distracted while you were getting frustrated with his behaviour.
The curse-breaker told you that every curse could be broken by the power of true love, but Serim becoming a puppet in Clarisse’s hands so easily only proved that he didn’t feel the same way as you did. You had known already but the confirmation still hurt.
Maybe that’s why this time, it didn't feel like flying. Your imaginary wings were too heavy, too rattered, too soaked with tears. Twenty-five feet from the ground had never felt so high. Right in the middle of a performance, watched by dozens of visitors, you had never felt more invisible when Serim didn’t look your way when he should have.
“Serim…” You called his name weakly and his eyes met yours, glossed over by fear, but it was already too late: your hand slipped out of his.
And then you just fell, fell and fell.
With nobody to catch you this time.
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charmixpower · 2 years
Note
How will you rank Winx Club's parents?
Uhhhh I've only gotten to s4 so I haven't seen all their parents but I'll try
Ok then
Parents ranking:
Mike and Vanessa: good parents just trying their best!!! They get the number one spot!! They're tight on cash but they do their best to get Bloom stuff she likes and they're involved enough to go to her school to see if everything is safe for Bloom
Musa's mother: Very good mom. Musa seems to adore everything about her and she left amazing life lessons. When we see the... ghost??? Of her in s3 she does the right thing and over all seems like an amazing mom. We don't see much of her tho
Klaus: good dude, seems like a good single dad
Oritel and Marion: I mean they raised Daphne so they have got to be doing something right? We've barely seen them so no opnion here. They're nice and want to get involved with Bloom to make up for missing time
Timmy's parents: they're probably nice enough people as Timmy seems fine and well adjusted
Helia's parents: their probably also normal enough
Flora's parents: I think they're nice enough people. Flora seems to semi act like Miele's mom so I'm guessing theirs some oldest daughter syndrome going on here, but tbh I think that's more form something happening and Flora parents being unable to help Flora and Miele instead of just being neglectful since Flora never shows signs of abandonment issues
Tecna's parents: who do you think got Tecna into the habit of repressing her emotions?
Musa's father post mother's death: Dude seemed to genuinely scare Musa as a child with smashing shit right after Musa's mom died and was willing to sabotage Musa's education because she got to perform a concert while still working towards a lucrative job. But he seems to be close with Musa and hes willing to change and was genuinely just trying to help. Good intentions horrible execution. He goes here I guess ???
Brandon's parents: no thoughts head empty. Brandon's whole job is to be Sky's body double because Sky has assassins on him, and their in highschool. Which means that Brandon's parents sent him away to theoretically get killed in place of Sky at 15. But like?? Brandon could of been taken away forcefully, or his parents could of been clouded by propaganda and not really concider the fact that Brandon is there to die in place of Sky. Or! They thought that it was super unlikely that he'd get killed and wanted Brandon go get ahead by getting in with royalty and getting the benefits of their money. I really really want to see them and have the explain why they sent Brandon away to the castle in the first place knowing that he could die so young
Morgana: she just didn't tell Roxy their related till the last second huh?
Nabu's parents: Neglectful as Nabu was raised by his security team
Radius and Luna: Very emotionally neglectful. Stella was, according to her, raised by maids, and Radius used Stella's ball to announce his wedding!! Luna didn't even show up!! I can believe that Radius actually cares but is very emotionally oblivious and should of never had a child (it's clear that he cares but doesn't understand how having a kid works in s3 which explains but doesn't make anything he does any better), plus Cassandra manipulating him, but Luna is not there like at all. At least Radius makes a half hearted effort
Teredor and Niobe: So pressuring and expectant that Aisha ran away. I also think they were emotionally cold towards Aisha as she clearly has a craving for personal bonds that it's implied that she never got outside of Anne. Aisha's needs were completely ignored or banned. That's some horrible parenting
Samara and Erendor: these two do not care about anyone, genuinely. They seem to see Sky more as a pawn than their son and I'm pretty sure they were willing to let Diaspro die. They didn't even notice their own son was under mindcontrol....these two creep me out and just seem like they'd be actually evil behind closed doors
Whom ever the FUCK raised the Trix to be like that: fuck em
Riven's parents: we haven't seen them but fuck thoese guys in perticualr. Riven in s1 was 16, and teenagers tend to base their world view off of what they learn from their parents. Seeing how Riven's mother abandoned him, I'm imagining that Riven's dad is just a way worst version of s1 Riven bc he had to pick up those opnions from somewhere and that's normally how it happens. You cannot convince me that Riven's weird attachment to his masculinity wasn't caused by someone constantly bothering him about it
Uhh that's my opinion I guess? This list feels very nonsensical and I apologize for that
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abeinginsand · 11 months
Text
Cassandra and Normal hc
Part 2/Companion to Taylor and Sparrow hc For Normal, number 1 mascot fan, former daytime actress Cassandra Swift could bond with him over a love of performance, of evoking emotion in a crowd. She could give tips on receiving feedback from said crowd too (positive and negative). Also...hear me out, maybe Cass was a mascot a few times in the past! Not in high school--but right after, when she was looking for work. (Continued below)
Cass keeps many items from current and past jobs. To add to that, her parents were very supportive and even had this little display at the family home with the smaller memorabilia on it. In present times, she has a room dedicated to any of that memorabilia and awards--for herself, her son, and items left behind by her ex husband too. As mentioned in the other post, Taylor and Normal became very close friends. I think after awhile of visiting each other's houses and also getting to know his friends parents too-- Taylor trusts Normal enough to give him an extensive tour of the Swift home. When the two head into the memorabilia room, Normal is blown away. He's never seen that many awards in one place before and certainly not in a house--reminded him of one of the exhibits at the museum his granddad works out. Normal had a few fond memories from volunteering there one summer too! So, eyes lit with excitement, the teen asks about each of the items...starting with things that are Taylor's (convention prizes, a writing contest award, framed childhood drawings etc). Taylor is of course thrilled to share his memories but starts to fumble the explanations as Normal asks about older items. The feelings are there but the details are too fuzzy. He knows he was happy to win the prizes though--why else would they be in here? [It's father and kid prizes--stuff they won together at festivals or stuff his dad won for him. All stuff he still treasures but no longer has the context for.] While he started off with his usual animated behavior, Norm watches as his friend gets a lot quieter, lost in thought. Taylor's got his expression all scrunched up and a hand on his chin trying to collect his thoughts until Normal decides to switch topics. He gestures to the open closet on the left side of the room. That's how they both come face to face with an old but well taken care of mascot costume in the single walk-in closet. Its in a clear, plastic cover and hanging on the closet rack in the center. There's a little tag hooked to the cover that reads 'Mascot, custom fit for Cass.' On the other side of the tag, there is a small drawing of the mascot and the name "Beau Bunny". And true to the name, the costume was a white bunny with drooping ears--seemingly one with a spotted coat. Instead of normal colored spots, the bunny had pastel blues, pinks, and greens. There were even words written on each spot too--looked a bit like the phrases seen on those tiny valentine candy hearts. Normal reached out hesitantly, tracing a finger over the plastic as he read the words 'You're the best' on the center green spot. "You're the best, huh?" "Heh, yeah my mom IS the best, glad you agree, Norm!" "Really thought you'd say you were the best." "I mean--I am too! Buuut that's my mom's suit, not one of my gundam ones." And so the two head to Taylor's room and continue chatting for awhile until Mrs. Swallows comes to pick Normal up. He hadn't ended up learning much about the mascot that day--because Taylor said it was a something his mom had before he was born. As well as, Mrs. Swift had been at work so they couldn't ask her either. Normal was very curious though and spent much of the car ride home telling his mom about the tour.
The name Beau Bunny may have been lost on the boys, but Rebecca recognized it almost immediately! She said that it was a mascot for an old sweets company that closed down a few years ago. They had a few ice-cream flavors she loved as a kid, so much so that for one of her birthdays--her dad hired the mascot to perform at her party. Now age wise, that definitely wasn't Cassandra but its just another reason why Rebecca is curious about Mrs. Swif's past work and would like to get to know her more in general. The next time all four interact is when Mrs. Swallows Oak Garcia invites the Swifts to lunch. Which is where Cassandra seems surprised but happy to talk about some of her past work. She mentions funnily enough--really hating the job at first. It was a summer job so it was a lot of time stuck in a hot, stiff, and clunky costume. She ended up having to learn some new stretches and other exercises--to help move around better. And maybe that's where the vulture costume stuff is brought up. I think Rebecca would explain with a smile but also still feel guilty about the heat stroke moment.
But when her son jumps into the conversation (by politely raising a hand of course), she feels comforted by how happy he seems in the moment. Normal's pumped to have someone who is equally passionate--maybe not specifically about mascots like him but still appreciates them. Cass likes the trip down memory lane and its nice to connect with someone over physical performance again. While Cass and Norm chat more, Rebecca asks Taylor about the game he's playing on his phone. Its a version of Wordle. Freddie said Taylor would always start with Anime as the first guess. I think Rebecca and Taylor play a few rounds against each other and chat about some stuff in between. Could also imagine Taylor trying to spread an 'it should be okay to play video games in class, and we need a mandatory video game fun period' agenda to her in future conversations. She isn't sold on the concept yet but always willing to consider other's ideas, nor matter how unusual. So yeah, that's how Cass ends up bonding with and mentoring Normal and also becoming friends with Rebecca potentially!
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School Festival ☆ Tamayori’s Haunted Dollhouse - Chapter 9
Location: Yumenosaki Grounds (School Festival) Characters: Shinobu, Mika & Shuu
TL Note:
Okonomiyaki is a savoury pancake that is generally made up of batter, cabbage, and pork, topped with okonomiyaki sauce with mayonnaise and bonito flakes.
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Mika: *Sniff sniff…* Ahh, the sauce smells nice…♪
Shuu: …………
Mika: Ngh~? Why’re you starin’ at my face, Oshi-san? Yer makin’ me shy.
Shuu: You’re too self-conscious. I was looking at you but I wasn’t doing it absent-mindedly.
Mika: Yeah. The only stuff you gaze at are artistic works, huh.
Shuu: Your appearance alone is worth appreciating but it becomes ruined the moment you open that mouth of yours. What a waste. 
In any case, you look as though you’re wanting to eat something from the food stalls, but if you have a meal at this time of the day, you won’t be able to have dinner.
Mika: Ah, yer right. And I wanna be able to eat the food you make, Oshi-san…
Ngh? Oshi-san, they’re sellin’ okonomiyaki[*] over there~♪
Shuu: Have you forgotten what I’ve just said? Or did you imply that you still wanted to buy it by telling me that?
If you don’t want to eat the food I make from now on, then you’re free to eat as much okonomiyaki as you want.
Mika: Nghh, nooo! I won’t say anythin’ weird anymore so don’t be in a bad mood~!
Shuu: I’m not offended at all. Those foods are low in nutrition and I’m also worried about the hygiene.
Mika: Huh…? Oshi-san, are you actually worried about me…? ♪
Shuu: Not at all. I’m already in a bad mood due to the crowd of people, but my mood will continue to sour if you were to eat that right next to me!
Mika: Ngh~ Oshi-san, you like crowds even less than I do, huh. I’m sorry for bringin’ you to a place like this.
Shuu: Don’t apologise. It’s crowded wherever we go. I’ll be fine as long as it’s not a confined space.
Mika: (Ahaha… Oshi-san is somewhat nice today.)
(Well, he still calls me a “failure of a doll” like usual, though.)
(The normal Oshi-san wouldn’t have come with me all the way here.)
(He isn’t leavin’ but he’s stayin’ here amongst the crowd with me.)
(I thought he didn’t like the “School Festival”. What’s the cause for his change of heart?)
(Oshi-san looked like he really enjoyed seein’ his friend’s performance. Maybe his mood got better ‘cause he saw somethin’ beautiful.)
(Maybe that’s why he’s feelin’ more positive emotions rather than unpleasant ones. Ehehe, seein’ Oshi-san have a good time makes me happy too~...♪)
(Speakin’ of fun…)
(“Switch” mentioned they’re takin’ part in the “School Festival” ‘cause it’s the last “School Festival” for Tsumu-chan-senpai and they wanted to make fun memories for him.)
(That didn’t strike a cord in me ‘cause I thought Oshi-san isn’t that kinda person.)
(But I can sorta understand now. Watchin’ a friend’s performance and walkin’ around the “School Festival” is probably what people would call fun memories…♪)
Shinobu: Thanks for waiting ~de gozaru! Here’s your yellow candy floss~♪
Oh, it’s fluffy and delicious? Ehehe, hearing you say that definitely made it worth making!
Mika: (Ngh, a small child is workin’ hard to make candy floss…)
(He sure is doin’ his best. I feel like cheerin’ him on when I see stuff like that ♪)
Shuu: Kagehira.
What are you looking at in a daze? Did something pique your interest?
Mika: U-Umm…
Ah, Oshi-san! Over there! Could you look over there!?
Shuu: Stop shouting. Judging by how you told me to “look”, I assume it’s not food.
Mika: Yeah. Look look, it’s a lottery booth! You can get a plushy if you get Excellent Luck~
Average Luck will give you a smaller plushy and Good Luck will get you a mascot character!
The plushies are cute so I’d be happy to get it and even if I don’t get one, the mascot character is still pretty cute, so it’s still a win for me…♪
Shuu: Cute? You have no sense of beauty. The plushies and the mascot characters are hideous. That word is only fitting for a doll like Mademoiselle.
Mika: Yeah, Mado-nee is definitely beautiful and cute. …Come to think of it, where is she? She was with you until we left for break, right?
Shuu: I didn’t want to take her someplace dangerous like within a crowd of people. I’m having her rest in the waiting room.
Mika: Ohh, there are people everywhere today, after all.
Shuu: In any case, are you going to pull in the lottery?
Mika: Y-Yeah… Umm, I’d like it if you could also do it with me…♪
Shuu: I would say, “Why would I?”, but I suppose you did come with me to watch the Drama Club’s performance. I don’t mind doing something like pulling in a lottery.
Mika: Whaa, thank you, Oshi-san!
Excuse me. Two pulls for the lottery, please ♪
Ngh, I just have to pull out a piece of paper from this box? *Rummage rummage* Then, this one.
Shuu: …………
Mika: You finished pullin’ one out too, Oshi-san? Ehehe, I wonder what we got. My heart’s thumpin’ ♪
…Oh, Good Luck? You got the same one too, Oshi-san?
I’m happy I got the same one as you~♪ Ah, we can pick a mascot character we like? Hmm~... Then, I’ll take this one.
Shuu: Once again, I see you’ve chosen a rather hideous one.
Mika: You think? Don’t you find this zombie mascot character cute? I thought it was perfect since we’re doin’ a haunted house right now.
How about you, Oshi-san? Which one are you gonna choose?
Shuu: I don’t need any of them. I’ll give it to you so choose another you like.
Mika: Wha, really? Hmm, umm~...? Okay, I choose this!
I’ve got two cute and scary mascot characters now. I’ll put it in my room when I get home~♪
(I got to make some really good memories by walkin’ around the “School Festival” and pullin’ in the lottery.)
(I won’t ever forget this memory for the rest of my life…♪)
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American song contest liveblog by a local swede part 3
They have started to explain much more what's going on with the votings and all that stuff, I appreciate that
WHO COULD IT BE WHO COULD IT BE IS IT YOU IS IT ME
Kelly's like "are you gonna say that every time haha-"
Everyone's got cowboy hats huh
Also is just everyone from last week just coming in for this results and then I guess they leave???
I didn't expect Knoche to be pronounced like that? Thought it would be like "noche" like spanish for night
KIDS BOP FDZSKYJ
They have subtitles for the songs now ok
Feels like a song they play at the mall tbh
Why are the crowd cheering over them explaining how the performance system works-
Ohh Louisiana has some fun "that one country being a little weirdly edgy at Eurovision" feels, me gusta
Are they changing jury system every week or-
Imagine just performing a song and then the jury was like "haha not as good as the previous song"
"Tennessee is the most musical state of America" he said and sent a generic not memorable song
Help New Jersey's song, what is she DOING
Swinging seductively in a bed... TAKE OF YOUR SHOES, WHY DO YOU HAVE SHOES ON THE BED, THE SHEETS WILL BE DIRTY
Ok you cut your hair? K? Good for you, very deep lyrics here
THE PEOPLE IN THE CROWD LIKE "🙂"
I'M WIDE AWAKE as a start of the song sounded like a certain other song...
I have already forgotten this song.
"That was SO GOOD" I- nah not to me
Florida's singer looks like she is sims cc
Ok every time they have latino music or sing in spanish, I try to define which DCLA show it reminds me of
This is a song they could sing on Soy Luna but I feel like it's more likely it would be on Bia.
Also it reminds me a little of Cielo Grande, which is not a DCLA show since it's on Netflix, but it's made by one of the creators on a DCLA show so
ALSO IT REMINDS ME OF TINI'S MUSIC VIDEOS HJKKCJXHUFC
JEWEL JUST STANDS THERE WAITING WITH HER GUITAR
"This part makes me so emotional" this part of the song or?? Cause I don't feel so emotional
NO HOW CHEESY TALKING MID SONG DZXNLZHK
The choir girls be like "she had some character growth <3"
THEY WERE JUST STANDING THERE FOR A MOMENT HSHSHSH
Love when they are like "old buildings from the 1900s" bro my high school was originally founded in 1246 (obviously it has not been the same building or even been at the same place in town but still)
Ok song, felt like a modern broadway song
Really sounds like several other songs tho
That one "wooooOOOOOOOOOOOO" in the audience dshxfcdj
We got bands like these in Sweden, a group of older men. Though those songs often focus on more "retro" style songs, or is modern sounding but is more like "dance bands", like the type of music you heard on a dance floor in "the good old days". This song did not feel like that, I can't really describe this song. I like it, though. It's fine.
Feels like Delaware girl is trying to be edgy, but I don't feel the edge
WHAT WAS THAT DANCE HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Ok I like it now, i'm gonna refer it as "funny train song"
They are sponsored by the M&M's lol
NANI?!
THE CGI TURTLE
Cozy song, feels like a travelling or montage song in a disney film
RIKER LOOKS LIKE A CHARACTER FROM A CHEESY AMERICAN 00S FILM
R5?!?!? OMG
What is he doing with his shoulders he looks like when a sims 3 sim is flirting
Pretty generic song but it's fine
Love how they try to hide who won but we saw it
Why is the jury always choosing the most generic and forgettable song-
We're ending this liveblog with this screenshot
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