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muchosbesitos · 3 days

Text

tengo tu foto

pairing: photographer! fem reader x miguel o’hara

contents: angst w no comfort, longing (is anyone rly surprised by this point), and some suggestiveness (nuffin tew crazy)

synopsis: you were booked for a wedding shoot, not expecting to see your ex boyfriend there.

author’s note: inspired by this :3 anyways i incorporated one of the themes from the movie hehe >w<

word count: 7k (i may have gone overboard on the yapping, sorry)

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"No. Ten un poquito de paciencia que ya mero acabo," Miguel tuts from a distance, the sound of wrapping paper scuffling together following. Despite the fact that you'd told him he didn't need to get anything for your birthday, that just spending time with him would be enough, he still insisted on doing so. Even after taking you out to a restaurant of your choosing, not even batting an eye when the waiter brought the check over. (have a little patience that i'm almost done)

"I know you said you didn't want anything but I stopped by that antique store in Queens and found the thing you've been wanting," he told you, stepping close to remove your hands from your eyes. You blinked a couple times to get used to the light in the room, looking down at the gift bag in his hands. Well, at least it wasn't anything too extravagant by the size of it. Or at least you hoped that it wasn't.

"Thank you, but you didn't have to do this. Your comp-"

"Before you say that my company would've been enough, you see me almost every day. Allow me to indulge in you a bit," he cut you off before you had the chance to finish speaking, giving you an innocent enough smile. "Just open it."

You took the gift bag from him, placing it down on your dinner table before starting to take out the sheets of wrapping paper. Even with that, you were trying to be meticulous enough not to rip it. At the bottom of the bag, you could see a white box peeking through. You took the box out with care, your eyes widening when you caught a glimpse of the words printed by the side. It was a vintage black Polaroid camera and a sleek leather photo album.

"Do you like it?" All you could do was nod, going over and wrapping your arms around him. You'd mentioned wanting this camera in passing a couple times, but you weren't expecting to actually get it. It should've been a nearly impossible task given that polaroids had ceased to have any usage with attachable phone printers, the quality of those unmatched. And yet you found yourself wanting this one after watching a movie, imagining all the different scenarios you wanted to use the camera for.

You basically opened the camera in record time, holding into in your hands for a couple seconds just to make sure you weren't dreaming. After the initial excitement passed, you examined the camera to see the different functions that it had and where you could put the film cartridge. You messed around with a couple of the buttons before the back of the camera eventually opened up, an illustration of how to set the cartridge etched inside.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, you'd been so focused on even just trying to acquire the camera that you didn't bother to research exactly just how it is that it worked. You reached over for the box, the manual falling down on the table. You'd barely managed to open it before Miguel grabbed it from your hands, putting it to the side. "We can figure this out by ourselves. It can't possibly be that difficult," he stated, sitting down at the table next to you.

He'd almost wished he hadn't said those words so soon.

The two of you sat there for a couple minutes, trying to figure out how exactly it was that the camera functions worked. You were grateful enough that you had boxes of cartridges to go through, considering that you'd almost went through one in testing this whole thing out. "Go see if that one worked," Miguel pointed over to the one processing on the table, his focus on the camera almost admirable. "This would go by a whole lot easier if you weren't so reluctant to use the manual."

"I refuse. I promise it'll work this time."

"It's almost like manuals were included in the box for situations like this," you muttered under your breath, noticing the subtle scoff he let out.

If the two of you were in any other situation, you might've found this a bit humorous. The two of you struggling with a simple enough camera while he dealt with complicated tech at a super fancy genetics facility and you dealt with cameras that had much more to them. "It did not work," you grumbled, only seeing your reflection peering back at you through the black photograph. If you squinted enough, at least you could see the silhouette of both of your figures. That counted as progress, right?

"Maybe it might be time to reconsider using the manual?" You suggested, your voice raising up a couple octaves as you tried to coax him into the idea.

"We don't need a manual. I'm a genius and you're an expert in cameras. We should be able to figure this out."

He twisted the lens of the camera onto the symbol with the home on it, deciding to test it out since it was the only one left. Miguel pointed at the fruit bowl that the two of you had been using as a practice model, clicking on the button. The whirr of the camera followed, the photograph coming out almost immediately. You slipped it out when it was halfway through, setting it down on the table to wait for it to process. "How's it going at the photography studio? Is your boss still being stingy?"

"It's gotten absurd. I had a client come in this last Monday and he immediately swept in to tell him that I don't have any experience," you couldn't help but feel annoyance when thinking back to the scenario, knowing pretty well that your portfolio was just as good as any of the other interns'. If not, even better.

"How are you supposed to get any experience if he's not giving it to you?"

You gave a small shrug in response, that being the same question that you asked yourself repeatedly. Every opportunity to advance at the studio had been ripped away from you, yet you couldn't bring yourself to quit. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was just that you'd gotten complacent staying in the same position for a couple years now. "Obviously you didn't ask for my opinion, but I think you should quit if he continues like this," Miguel offered quietly, his hand coming up to your shoulder.

"I'll think about it," you told him after a couple seconds of silence, contemplating his words. You knew he was right, deep down you did know. But what if other companies saw you as the mediocre photographer that this company did? The thought was just too much to handle. You looked over at the photograph once it was finished processing, noticing that the fruit bowl had been perfectly captured. "It worked!" You sounded a little too excited, handing over the photograph for him to examine his work.

"Now, let's take one together," is what you said about two minutes ago.

He ended up sitting down on a chair, one of your arms wrapped around him as the two of you looked into the camera. "How much longer? My cheeks are starting to hurt," you asked him through the smile you were trying so hard to maintain. "Hold on, I'm just trying to find the button," he muttered, the subtle scratch of his nail hitting the camera as he searched for the button. You'd barely heard the click from the button, immediately blinded by the flash shooting directly at the both of you.

Was this how your clients felt? Maybe you'd stop getting on their ass for capturing a majority of their photos with their eyes closed. Realistically you knew you wouldn't though. Seriously, how hard was it for them to keep their eyes open for four seconds? Miguel blinked slowly, putting the camera down on the table. "Pretty sure I just burned my retinas with that one," he muttered, taking the photo out and setting it on a placemat for it to develop. "Ditto."

"Hey, can I keep the photo? I'm thinking of putting it in my wallet," he asked once you were done adorning the blank space with stars and little hearts. You handed the photo over to him when he was done pulling out his wallet, noticing how gentle he was at handling the photo so it wouldn't bend. An array of photos were inside of his wallet, most of them Gabriella. One from when she was a baby to one where she was holding up a diploma for her kinder graduation.

"Te ves tan hermosa. I swear, that camera doesn't do you enough justice," he mused, looking down at the photograph that adorned the back of his wallet. Though he wouldn't be able to deny that the way you smiled in the picture was an image that would stay engrained in his brain for as long as he lived. "Thank you for getting it for me regardless. I know it wasn't much of an easy task," you responded, watching as he went over to fridge. (you look so beautiful)

"Gabriella and I baked you a cake. Well, more like she put the ingredients and mixed it and I just did the heavy work," he told you, bringing the plate with the cake over. You looked over, seeing the cake sprinkled with an ungodly amount of sprinkles and the writing on the frosting a bit crooked. Yet the fact that they'd both taken the time made you heart swell. "It's the prettiest cake I've ever seen. Tell her I said thank you," you gave him a smile, stepping up so he could lean over and light the candles up on the cake.

"Don't smush my head into the cake," you warned him, hovering slightly above the cake. His laughter echoed throughout the apartment, standing across from you with the camera pointed towards you. "Not sure how I would manage that but noted," he responded, putting the camera up to his eye and angling it. "You'd find a way," you muttered, blowing out the candles. You wafted the smoke fumes coming up, starting to take out the candles. "Que lo parta, que lo parta," Miguel chanted in the background when you went to cut the cake.

"Thank you. You've just left me with dessert for the rest of the week," you called out from the kitchen, setting the remaining cake in the fridge. You grabbed your plate from the table, going over to the couch where he'd sat down. "What movie did you end up picking out?" You asked, already expecting it to be some kind of sci-fi movie. Maybe thriller if you were lucky. "Some old romance movie, supposed to be good. La La Land," he answered, taking a bite from his cake. You wiped some of the frosting with your thumb, licking it off afterwards.

"No new movies out in theaters?"

"Well, it's not that. They're just hard to enjoy with all the AI writing and all the CGI. It just doesn't feel like I'm actually watching a movie with real actors, y'know?" If you had to guess, you'd probably say that he was right. Majority of the behind the scenes shots that you've seen for recent movies have just shown robots on set, only around two people actually present. It all just felt so.. emotionless. A repeat of the same movie over and over again just with different characters.

His thumb drew lazy circles on your thigh while Sebastian and Mia were seated at the movie theatre. "I wanted to run something by you, see what you thought about it," he started off, already looking at you when you turned to face him. You really hoped this wasn't the start of a break up speech. "Gabriella's really important to me, as I'm sure you're aware. And now that we're starting to get serious, I'd like for you to meet her," were not the words you were expecting from that sentence, but you weren't upset at them.

The thought of meeting his little girl was something that intrigued you and scared you shitless at the same time. What if she thought you were making some futile attempt to replace her mom? What if she ran you out of the house throwing eggs at you? You took a deep breath, trying to think of the positives. Miguel had done nothing but describe her as well-behaved, there would be no reason for her to act up. You'd just have to reassure her that you wanted to love her, not replace her mother in any form. "I'd love to meet her."

"This defeats the purpose of the movie, y'know?" He pointed out when you sat on his lap, your legs on either sides of his. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your nails gently raking against the curls on the nape of his neck. "Is that a complaint that I'm hearing, Mr. O'Hara?" You whispered against his lips, his chest rumbling as he laughed. "Not at all," he sounded breathless as he spoke, his hands coming down to rest on your hips. He let out a small groan when you leaned in, the taste of frosting lingering on his lips.

You'd barely registered the sound of his phone buzzing in the background, only breaking away from the kiss when he did. He pulled it out of his pocket, letting out a small groan. "It's my ex wife. Just give me a second," he whispered, placing the phone up to his ear. You could make out a couple words from her frantic yelling, nothing that would give you a clue to what was going on though. "I'm not processing the information any better with you yelling in my ear," Miguel sounded much different with his ex wife, a tone he'd never used with you.

After receiving a couple more pieces of context based on what Miguel was telling Dana to do, you were able to decipher that Gabriella was currently running a fever along with a cold. "I'll come by to pick her up along with some medicine, okay?" He'd simply stated after Dana spent around two minutes talking to him. "Yes and groceries too," he added, albeit a bit reluctantly before hanging up the phone. He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a small resigned sigh. He'd even called off work tomorrow to spend a lazy morning with you.

"I have to go," he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, tapping on the side of your thigh. You got off him, standing up to walk him out the door. "Stay safe. Call me when you get home," you told him before he left, standing on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I will, I promise. I'll text you the details for next week, okay?" He called out, starting to head down the sidewalk. You waited until he wasn't visible anymore to go back inside, starting to clean up a couple smudges of frosting on the table.

You ended up watching the rest of the movie in the comfort of your couch, lying to yourself about the tears in your eyes. He'd mentioned the movie being somewhat of a romance but he'd forgotten to disclose the important detail- that it was a tragic romance. Just the fact that they had everything that they could've wanted except for each other just made it all the more painful to watch. In order to distract yourself, you pulled your phone out to see if Miguel had texted you. After all, it'd been about thirty minutes since he left.

Maybe he'd forgotten. You tried to assure yourself that maybe it was the last thing on mind given that Gabriella was sick, that he was capable of taking care of himself. There wasn't any way he'd willingly break the promise that he made to you, right? You even tried turning off your phone and toggling with the data button on it to see if was just that your phone hadn't received the message. But upon turning your phone on, you only saw the same three notifications on your screen from a couple hours back.

You'd call him tomorrow. Check up on Gabriella and him on the process. The thought of him ghosting you came to mind, though it didn't last for very long. He'd been very upfront when it came to telling you the things that displeased him in the relationship. He wouldn't just up and leave without an explanation. Plus, the two of you were doing great and he wouldn't have suggested meeting Gabriella if he wanted to break up. Things were good. You just had to keep repeating that until all the worries in your head disappeared.

Things were good.

So why is it that a week later every single one of your phone calls was getting straight to voicemail?

"Hey Miguel, I know that you're busy with work and whatnot but can you just call me back so I know you're not dead?" You were pacing in the middle of your living room, feeling yourself slowly start to unravel with every automated response that you received. "Okay, well I love you. Please just call me back whenever you have the time," you ended the call, staring at the blank screen before testing your luck again for what seemed to be the 70th time.

"This is Miguel O'Hara speaking. Please state your reason for calling and I'll try to get back to you," you practically spoke with the machine, having memorized it after the nth time of hearing it. It was pointless to leave another message, the deep part of your subconscious was aware of that. And yet, you couldn't help yourself. "Hey, Miguel. I'm sorry about all the calls. Can you just tell me if I did something wrong or something instead of ignoring me? Please," you sounded pathetic to your own ears.

You waited until the designated two days passed by until you called the police department in your precinct, inquiring about any missing reports for Miguel. "Look I don't know how many times you want me to check the damn system but for the fourth time, there's no missing persons report filed for a Miguel O'Hara," the officer sounded agitated on the line, though rightfully so. You'd asked him for the fourth time before he snapped. You hung up, trying other PD's and hospitals. Only to get no results.

Maybe it was a stupid way to cope with the fact that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore. But you couldn't help but call him just to be able to hear his voice on the ringtone, even if he did sound apathetic when speaking. That was until a couple weeks passed by, "Number is disconnected or no longer in service," was the response that you'd received instead of the voicemail that you'd gotten so used to. "No, come on," you muttered to yourself, trying to assure yourself it was a mistake. But upon calling again, you quickly realized that it was not.

Even as the years passed by, you found yourself unable to move on from him. It'd gotten to the point where your friends had to step in, staging an emergency intervention under the pretense of going out for drinks one night. As much as you understood their point and their reasons for believing that you were slightly delusional, you still refused to let him go. His clothes still lingered in the back of your closet, the fresh scent of his cologne still present when you pressed your face against it.

You had no idea what happened to him, and that was partially what kept you from moving on. There was no type of closure, no logical reason for him to leave you or any problems in between the two of you. So you stuck to your selfish, hopeless dream. The dream that one day you'd wake up for work and he'd be knocking on the other side of the door, cup of coffee in hand with a croissant bag in the other. Maybe it was the fact that he'd made you feel loved in a relationship. The person that understood you just by your tics and facial expressions.

"Maybe he just.. doesn't want to make this harder for you," your friend hesitated when you'd picked up a newspaper on your way out the subway. Miguel's face had been on the front of the cover, looking as stoic as ever. Even as he was getting an award for a groundbreaking experiment. As a photographer, you could tell that the lighting wasn't flattering on his skin, the color palette washing him out. But still, you tried to push that thought to the side as the reminder that he was still living out there peacefully without you lingered.

"He'll come back," you muttered, though the words didn't sound believable anymore. You could tell your friend wanted to say something else by the skeptical look on their face, but they simply just offered a hug. "Look, when you're ready to move on, I'll be here to help you," they whispered, rubbing your back. The two of you got a couple sideway glances from the others walking down the street, but you couldn't help but want this hug to last longer. You needed some kind of warmth in your life.

The one good thing that had come out of this situation though was that you finally decided to take his advice and quit your job. You'd spent weeks going from studio to studio, rejection getting thrown in your face a couple times. Each rejection started stinging less and less, simply becoming another name on your list. Though a majority of the studios that rejected you was due to a lack of space, giving you plenty of connections to reach out to though. After a while of submitting job applications, a couple of them managed to land.

Which is how you came to work at the studio you're working at now. While it was slightly painful to do, the copious amounts of ass kissing that you did to your superiors helped you move up the ranks rather quickly. Well that and the diversity in your portfolio, the main point that your employer made sure to highlight. The way that you were able to capture objects and people, capturing them in a way that made the subject interesting no matter what it was. It was nothing mediocre. You knew that now.

Along with the job, the studio offered a couple refresher courses that you took full advantage of. While your skill wasn't bad by any means, you were still determined to get better at it. The courses went over from a range of subjects such as color contrasts, the rule of thirds, and different editing programs that didn't mess with the quality of the photos.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your gaze immediately going to the necklace adorning your neck. You've been trying to talk yourself into finally taking it off for the last couple months, trying to convince yourself that it was necessary to move on. Your alarm clock blared in the background as a reminder that you were about to late for work, but you stayed still. But taking the necklace off would mean that you'd accepted he wouldn't be coming back. Is that something you'd be willing to do?

You brought your hands to the nape of your neck, reaching for the clasp. Just take it off. It would be simple. Stuffing it in the back of your bathroom drawer, never having to look at it again. Never having to be reminded of the nice memories associated with it. You dropped your hand from the clasp, letting out a small groan. "I'll do it tomorrow," it was the same thing you told yourself in the mirror every day, knowing pretty damn well that you weren't going to actually do it.

Even the meaningless distractions and the amount of clothing that you'd bought for yourself after acquiring an actual paying position at the studio did nothing to fix the empty void. Everything just felt so gray, so static. You'd found yourself missing the most minute things of your routine with Miguel, from brushing your teeth together at the sink after he'd just spent the night to the subtle scratch of his stubble after a couple days of not shaving. You missed having someone to talk to about whatever crossed your mind with little fear of judgement. You missed him.

No number of heels or jewelry that you'd splurge on would heal that.

You checked your watch on your way up the elevator, practically hearing the ticking of it as you were reminded you were late. Probably shouldn't have stopped at that new café that just opened up on the corner of your house. Though the taste of the buttery croissant melting in your mouth almost made any complaints coming your way worth it. You stuffed the last piece in your mouth before approaching your office, wiping away any crumbs that lingered on your shirt.

"I have a meeting scheduled here for... Xina?" You read off the calendar on your tablet, looking up for some kind of confirmation. What you hadn't expected to see was Miguel standing there by her side, his hands stuffed in his pockets. A ticked off expression on his face to top off the cake that this morning was turning out to be.

"You're late," the same tone that he'd used with Dana all those years ago, one of agitation and frustration was now the one that he'd used with you. For the amount of times that you spent criticizing the woman over her decisions, you wouldn't have expected for you to get treated the same way.

You really wanted to be annoyed, demand for an explanation. You'd planned out this moment in your head for years, after all. But upon standing in front of him once more, you felt your mouth dry up. It didn't help that he looked more devastatingly handsome than the last time you saw him. His hair had grown a bit, slight curls forming at the nape of his neck. While he wasn't weak by any means when the two of you were together, his muscles were practically close to ripping the stitching in his black button down top.

The gold Virgencita necklace he had did nothing to help out your case. It was only accentuated by the dark fabric. On his wrist, you could notice a couple beaded bracelets. Each with their own sentence in them, ranging from 'best dad' to 'te quiero mucho.' Well that was if you weren't misreading them while they were upside down. Surely the work of his daughter. Though the thing that had caught your attention the most was the gold band around his ring finger, a sign of his commitment to the woman next to him.

You really needed to stop staring before they got any weird vibes from you. You could do that. You could separate your personal feelings from your work.

"It's just a few minutes, Miguel," the woman next to him spoke, the harshness in his glare losing all intensity when she reached over to hold his hand. He let out a small sigh, almost forcing himself to calm down before nodding slightly. You shook both of their hands, willing yourself not to clasp Miguel's fingers within your own. To feel the slight roughness of his calluses that you'd grown used to. That wasn't something you could do anymore.

"Before we started, would any of you all like something to drink? We have tea, water, and some coffee. Though I wouldn't recommend the coffee," you could play the role of a stranger too, a forced smile making its way onto your face. You felt it falter a couple times but you were quick to school your expression back to normal before anyone could notice.

"No, thank you," Xina responded, placing her hands on the table to scoot her chair in. You caught a glimpse of the diamond ring adorning her finger, if that was even a proper name for it. You had an idea Miguel was rich, but you'd never expect him to be THAT rich. The lights reflected off the diamond, a rainbow hue present on the table.

"I'm alright, thanks," Miguel didn't even bother to look at you while he spoke, his attention solely on the woman next to him. His hand reached out to where hers sat, holding it tenderly. His thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her hand. The same way that he used to do to you.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you happen to have any snacks?" The little girl by his side chimed in, the same little girl you'd seen on those photographs from long ago. Well, now she wasn't exactly too little. She did, however, resemble every bit of Miguel. Even more so now than in the photos you had the pleasure of seeing before.

"Mija, if you eat snacks now you won't be hungry for when we go out to eat later."

"I'll still be hungry, I promise!" Even you knew that it was false, but Miguel found himself being unable to deny the little girl anything. He pulled his wallet out, glimpses of those photos from years ago still visible. Tinted yellow from the time that'd passed by. You couldn't help but peer inside as discreetly as you could, hoping to catch a glimpse of the polaroid in the back. He hastily shut his wallet when he caught you staring at it, shoving it deep into the pocket of his jeans.

Something to confirm that you hadn't just imagined the time that you spent together with him all those years ago. The only photos you saw in his wallet though were those of Gabriella and one of him with his fiancée, surely celebrating their engagement by the pose in the picture. Xina sticking her hand out to the camera, a flashing smile on her face as she looked over at the camera. You couldn't help but feel a pang in your chest when you glanced over at Miguel in that photo, his eyes only locked on her.

A look of adoration that you'd only imagined in fairytales. The way that he looked at her like she was the only woman that mattered in the world. You were snapped out of your trance when you heard his wallet thud shut, looking over at Gabriella when she walked over to Miguel instead. He had a five dollar bill sticking out of his hand, keeping it in his grasp while he finished speaking, "Alright, go get yourself a light snack. And get the nice lady something if she wants."

Nice lady.

That's what you were reduced to now? Just as the lady that treated him with basic manners?

"I will, thank you!" Gabriella yelled out from the hall, practically dashing out the door the second he handed her the money. You pushed any lingering thoughts aside, excusing yourself from the table before going after Gabriella. You found her skipping in the hallway on the way to the vending machine, humming a song to herself on the way.

"I didn't actually have to get anything. I just wanted to talk to you," now that came as a surprise. As far as you knew, Gabriella only knew that Miguel was dating someone in the past.

"Me? Why me?"

She reached for the pocket on the front of her overall, taking out a polaroid. You didn't have to look at it to know what it was. And yet you did, a small smile present on your face at the sight of how happy you and Miguel looked once. The words at the bottom had faded away, leaving grey markings in their wake. "I found it in the trash. I thought I should keep it," she told you, your eyes widening slightly. He wouldn't do that, not after he said he'd value it. But what reason would Gabriella have to lie?

"My dad acted strange for a while. He stopped reading me bedtime stories and putting smiley faces on my food," the little girl sounded melancholy as she spoke, reaching up to put the bill in the machine. Now that sounded more like the Miguel that you were accustomed to, not the man that was currently in your office. "But he used to talk nicely about you. How I'd love to spend time with you and get to know you. I'm sorry that we didn't get to that."

"Hey, there's nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes things just happen, y'know?" Even if you yourself knew nothing of what exactly happened, you decided to test that out to reassure her. She gave a small nod in response, pressing a button on the machine before a bag of chips dropped down.

"Thought you weren't hungry."

"Well, I lied to him and it'd be pretty obvious if I showed up empty handed." Smart kid.

"I don't know if we should stick with this photographer. I caught her staring at my wallet a couple seconds too long," you heard Miguel through the thin walls complain to his wife, that same tone of annoyance lingering in his voice. He really couldn't tolerate you, huh.

"She was probably just looking at the photos you have in there, don't stress out about it too much. She's the best we'll find with this time crunch."

The conversation came to a halt when you and Gabriella stepped into the room, the crinkling of chips a stark comparison to the quietness. You went over to your bookcase, grabbing your planning binder before going back to your seat across from them. You flipped over to a clean page, playing with the end of your pen as you tried to distract yourself from the reality of the situation. The same ex who'd practically disappeared from the face of the earth was now facing you. Requiring your services.

"We were wondering if we could establish something like a photo booth where the guests could go to take photos rather than it just being a quinceañera situation," Miguel spoke up, looking directly at you. You were hoping to catch a glimpse of something, just the slightest bit of something that would tell you that you weren't just a stranger to him. Maybe not longing but some sort of recognition? But you received nothing. Not even a form of silent acknowledgment that you were still wearing the damn necklace.

"Alright, we can do that," you scribbled down the notes, just the request making you recall the countless complaints that you've had to deal with about a couple of your interns. That the guests couldn't even get a spoonful in without having some fear that a camera would instantly flash in their eyes. "And how would you like the arrangement to be for the both of you? Photos straight out of the chapel and throughout the ceremony or just the photo booth?"

"Well for the two of us, we'd like some photos of us outside of the chapel." Alright, all you had to do was arrange the photo booth before you made your way over to the church to take their photographs. That sounded manageable. You annotated the time that the ceremony and reception would start, writing down a couple possibilities for the time required. You were getting paid by the hour, after all.

"I'd prefer if you could make it something low light. My eyes get sensitive with bright lights," Miguel spoke up, waiting for you to write down the notes before leaning back in his chair. You'd never heard him complain about something like that when you used him as the muse for your photos, but a lot of things were different about him now. You didn't know him anymore. A fact that you had to resign to yourself to.

"How'd the two of you meet, if you don't mind me asking?" It was clear that they mind the question. Silence lingered in the room, both of their stares equally judging. Think. Think. Think. What would be a reasonable excuse for letting your nosiness get in the way of remaining professional?

"I was just wondering since we could set up the booth with something reminiscent of that moment. A couple coffee shaped figures if it was a coffee shop. Books if it was a library. Like a cute little easter egg," you almost had to commend yourself for coming up with that lie so fast. You looked over at Gabriella, seeing her give you a thumbs up on the middle of her trying to watch a YouTube video. Okay, maybe the situation had been salvaged.

"We used to be friends, though we hadn't contacted each other in a while. Before she came into my life as my fiancée, my life just felt very empty. She brought me purpose and a reason to come back home every night," you gripped the pen in your hands as he spoke, almost surprised that the glass didn't shatter. Empty? Empty? Were you just a piece of chopped liver? Maybe you'd gone crazy for real this time around and just imagined yourself dating him. Yeah.

Just coincidentally dated someone who looked exactly like him. You'd be lucky if you didn't go mad by the end of this meeting if your thoughts continued to stray in this direction. You could've sworn you heard a slight crack in the pen you were holding, forcibly loosening your grip on it even though it was the only thing anchoring you down. Just take a couple deep breaths. Go to your happy place. Wait no. That wouldn't work if your happy place was in a beach in the Bahamas with Miguel, right?

Nope. Definitely not.

"Well he comes home most of the time, but y'know how it is with geneticists," Xina remarked, her gaze going over to the pen in your hand before going back up to your face.

"You have no idea," you found yourself muttering, unable to stop the words from coming out. You didn't even have to look over at Gabriella this time to know that she was subtly giving you a thumbs down.

"I'm sorry?"

"Forget it, just a stupid comment." Though she seemed skeptical towards the comment, she decided to leave it be for now.

The rest of the meeting flowed very smoothly, a majority of the conversation staying on work related topics. The other portions had been Xina talking about just how lucky she was to get you as a photographer, how thankful she was for Miguel. "He's just been so supportive throughout this whole process, letting me take reigns of the planning," she'd told you, her face gleaming as she spoke of him. An expression similar to contentment washed over Miguel's face as he watched speak, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Alright, that'll be all. Thank you for coming to meet with me today," you told the both of them once the plans had been set into stone. You rose up from your seat, the three of them following suit.

"Thank you, it was very nice to meet you," Xina extended her hand out towards you, a polite smile on her face. You shook her hand, returning the pleasantries with as much cheerfulness as you could muster. Which wasn't that much, now that you think about it. But she hadn't noticed anything too strange about your expression so that was slightly reassuring. She and Gabriella left the room, leaving you and Miguel together.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. O'Hara. My apologies for being late," to which he simply gave a curt nod before making his way to the exit. You went to fix your binder and pens, looking up only when you hadn't heard the click of the door.

Before he had the chance to step out, he stopped and stood by the doorstep to turn around and look at you. You were stuck in between wanting to bask in his presence for just a little bit longer and wanting him to leave. Why couldn't he just leave with the new family he was forming and leave you out of it? He looked like he was trying to see if he recognized you, his brows furrowed slightly in concentration. "I'm sorry if this comes off as a weird question, but have we met before? You seem familiar."

You almost wanted to laugh at the situation. How funny it was that the man you'd swore was the one you were probably gonna end up getting married to was the same one who didn't recognize you now? The same one that spent hours on his knees, devoting himself to worshipping and memorizing every feature of your body. That loved every aspect of yourself, even the aspects that you once thought were unlovable.

While seeing him now was the epitome of painful, knowing that he hadn't even bothered to consider you while he'd gone off to start a new life, this was what you needed to move on. The hope that you once had of him coming home, holding you close to his chest with countless apologies slowly dwindled down throughout this meet before extinguishing completely. You had slowly come to accept how stupid it was to wait for him.

It would've been easy to say yes, to tell him that you were his ex-girlfriend. But the image of the small smiles that he shot at Xina throughout the meeting still stuck in your head, making you consider that decision longer than you should've. You looked up from your notes, realizing that he was still waiting for your answer. After some hesitation, you eventually decided on, "No, I don't believe we've met before. You have me confused with someone else."

tag list 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @nixinluv02 @lizaistewdelulu @swiftiegirliepop @1800-get-alife @cl3stevu @hardlystrictlystarwars @1dk-anym0r3

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science-lings · 1 day

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more info for each option below

1- I just think it's funny if everyone knew who Sherlock Holmes was (Phoenix's 'Sherlock Holmes 2 baby!' moment) and it's a popular belief that he wasn't real but he was, just under a better name.

2- I can't help but look at these guys and point at them. Kazuma's concept art where he has his hair back is so Phoenix-coded and one of his thinking sprites looks a lot like Phoenix's and I think that in the afterlife whenever Phoenix is kind of a bitch Ryunosuke looks over at Kazuma and blames him for it. I don't know which one is trans and neither do historians, it's knowledge that has been lost to time. Though it would be funny if Ryu just popped out of nowhere to go to university where no one knew him so no one would know anything about him. Did he forge government documents to do it? who knows he's just living his best life memorizing tongue twisters.

3- It would either be something badass like a snake winding around her arm or something symbolic like a fleur-de-lys which is the flower-based symbol in TGAA for European prosecutors. I also think it's funny bc it's apparently based on an Iris (or a lily), and the iris has the connotation that it 'prevents fire' which would be funny subtle anti-phoenix symbolism.

4- as much as the fan renditions of scruffy beanix absolutely fuck, this guy has the most pathetic facial hair I've ever seen, he's trying so hard to look like a homeless rundown stoner but can only manage a sprinkling of stubble. In addition, Miles can grow facial hair and he tried to grow a mustache for a week in Europe but it was a sensory nightmare and he will never do it again.

5- idk there's a reason his little mascot is a mouse, I just think it's funny if he just appears next to people and they have no idea how he got there. quiet little guy (unless he's thinking loud enough for it to leak out of his mouth). If he was a little more chaotic he would make an excellent thief/ pickpocket. The closest he gets is making snacks disappear from the 221b pantry.

6- All the animals as evidence and his first defendant in seven years being an Orca, he has that disney princess vibe. He was buds with Polly the parrot during the trial and even Money the monkey warmed up to him, especially in the anime where he just chills on Phoenix's shoulders during the court demonstration. I also think eventually Taka would also warm up to him due to his immaculate bird vibes. Trucy's doves and rabbits love him, he does not know how this happened. He regularly has pigeons following him around during investigations. He accidentally makes friends with a crow when throwing out popcorn kernels, it regularly gives him things now and more than once it has retrieved evidence for a case he's working on. He names it Kay and refers to Human Kay accordingly.

7- A little detail I noticed was that a lot of the information Mia got on Redd White was from conversing through the spiritual veil which seems to be her strong suit even as a spirit herself. She can talk to Phoenix without having to use a medium. I think it would be interesting to delve into all the nuances of the Fey's spiritual abilities outside of channeling. There's definitely a whole lot more to it than we're provided. How does that magatama work? how does Pearl charge it with 'spiritual power' and why is she the only one that can do it? I'm a hoe for magical worldbuilding so I would love to get my grubby fingers all over the Fey's.

8- Just two haters who can't have the job that they worked so hard for and are bitter about it. I like to think that Ema visited America at least once a year to visit Lana in prison and she stayed with Phoenix to save money on hotels. It just means something to me that it's her pin that's on his beanie and she gets included in the Wright family (+ Apollo) new years official art, and he keeps the investigative tools she gave him for nearly a decade. They aren't the best influence on each other but they understand each other more than nearly anyone else. They send each other pictures of Edgeworth whenever one of them is hanging out with him so the other doesn't feel left out. Also, they both think it's funny to catch him in the middle of talking or making a weird facial expression.

9- Some guy can't just change how trials are done for everyone without a lot of political bs, Phoenix is famous in law circles and even outside of law circles but he needs to convince a lot of important people (and expose a lot of corrupt important people) before it can go through. At some point, Edgeworth is going to pick him up and they're going on a private plane to talk to the president. It's important to me that he has trouble grasping how important he has become and is surprised every time he's invited to speak at some fancy event even though he's literally important enough to have statues made of him. He is the most iconic defense attorney, he solved the deaths of the two most notable defense attorneys before him in some of his first trials. He is going to be in history books and that is unimaginable to him.

10- Obviously since his canon ancestor is Japanese he's at least part Japanese but I mean like, in my mind, he's fully Japanese American who can speak the language and was raised by immigrants, but I also think that so many other hcs are fun. Is he latino with his black daughter? love that, inject some melanin in these attorneys please. I see the ensemble artwork and am blinded instantly.

#i know not all of these are unique but I am giving them to those who want them #idk how good this batch is but I got to pull out my symbolism book so that's fun for me #ace attorney #phoenix wright #i kinda want to make polls for pride month to see all the headcanons #that kind of thing is always fun #let me know if you read this if that sounds interesting to you #andromedas poll hell #apollo justice #tgaa #tgaac #ryunosuke naruhodo #idk i don't want to spam tags so ill leave it there

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chvrrycola · 15 hours

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STRAY KIDS X CLICHE MEETCUTES - LEE FELIX

word count | 0.7k

warnings | none

now playing . . . just go by arlo parks

the other meetcutes

it was only 8:47, and you had already decided that today was not your day. your alarm had decided not to go off, leaving you scrambling to get ready for school in time. you missed your bus, and the next one had also decided to both be super late and jammed full, so you had spent your entire journey trying to keep your face out of the bag of the guy standing in front of you.

you had ended up arriving at school after the gates shut, so you were forced to wait outside until a member of staff noticed you and eventually let you in, at which point you started running to your locker to stash your stuff, hoping you wouldn’t miss any of your first class of the day.

a quick check over the timetable taped to the door of your locker reminded you that this was the most intense day on your schedule, forcing you to heave books, folders and assignments for your first three classes out of your bag. you clutched them to your chest, and sighed heavily as you slammed your locker shut and immediately turned to speed to your class.

though, of course, this too could not go smoothly.

unable to process what was happening in the moment, the next thing you knew was that everything you had just hauled out of your locker was now splayed all over the floor of the corridor. sheets of paper covered the tiles and the sight of your books’ spines bent over themselves made you want to cry.

you dropped to your knees, sniffing and trying to keep your emotions in check as the weight of all your bad luck hit you full force.

it hadn’t even occurred to you what you had bumped into, or even that you had bumped into anything. as far as you could tell, this was just another random incident that the universe had decided to stack on top of all the other shitty things you had already had to deal with today.

you only really realised that there was anybody around you at all when a boy knelt down in front of you, apologising for his carelessness as he crawled around the floor trying to help you collect up your things.

he wasn’t someone you knew, or at least you didn’t think you recognised him through your tear-blurred eyes. he smiled when he saw you looking at him, and apologised again, which you fiercely rejected, explaining that it was all your fault and you were just a little all over the place today.

‘oh, i hope you’re alright,’ he said, ‘i can help you carry this stuff to your class if you like, i have a free period right now.’

on any other day you probably wouldn’t have accepted, would’ve insisted it was fine and that you could handle it. but today you jumped on the offer.

‘that would be great actually, if you don’t mind.’

he shook his head and picked up the stack he had collected, following your lead as you began to walk to your classroom. you were still nervous about being last to go into your class, not wanting to attract attention to your already dishevelled appearance, but your nerves began to fade as you spoke to your new friend.

his name was felix, and, much to your embarrassment, he told you you had met once before, very briefly, when your friend had introduced him to you as her partner on a project. he didn’t seem to mind the fact that you had forgotten, but you still cringed at the fact that you had somehow managed to make this first - or rather second - impression even worse.

you didn’t have any classes together though, so it wasn’t too big of a failure on your part, but as you walked him through your schedule for the day you found a few similarities between teachers, including the dreaded mr. son who was taking your class right before break.

felix had even managed to make you laugh by the time you reached your classroom, placing his half of your books atop yours as he wished you good luck for the rest of your day and, as you trudged from class to class, you were thrilled to see him waiting for you, leaning against the wall outside mr. son’s office, having already collected what your friend had advised him was your favourite drink from the shop down the street.

#stray kids #stray kids felix #skz #skz felix #lee felix #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz imagines

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seriesxwriting · 1 day

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Hello can i ask for Damon Salvatore x Fem!Reader where the reader is in a relationship with Damon and he arranges a romantic evening for her (rose petals scattered in his bedroom, candles, wine or champagne and a bathtub filled with foam) and he does it because he knows that the reader is studying and worked hard for her exams?

This is a great idea!! I feel like now is a good time to write it as I’m currently taking my A level this month ahah. Thank you for the request <3.

Won’t you spend a little time with me

Pairing: Damon x Fem!Reader

Series: The vampire diaries

Summary: Request: Damon won’t leave you alone even though you’re trying to see exams. You don’t believe he understands the stress you’re under but oh how wrong you are.

Warnings: kissing, maybe swearing.

“Yeah well I just have to cover component two section A to E over this weekend” I told Bonnie as we exited the school building through the double doors. “I remember when a weekend meant freedom” she sighed putting on her sunglasses, making me wish I had my own ones as the sun was so bright. “I don’t, it was so long ago”. Bonnie chuckled at my joke shaking her head. “Well, not long left I suppose, we only have three more exams after the weekend and then we’re… donezo Washington” she rubbed her hands together excitedly.

“I suppose that’s a good way to look at it- but we’ve actually got to get through the week and I have to get through the weekend ignoring Damon’s pestering” I rolled my eyes which Bonnie saw. “Is he still not leaving you alone? Don’t he understand not everyone is imortal and some of us need grades” Bonnie put her head to once side as we continued walking round the building towards her car.

“Don’t get me wrong I want to see him, but balancing a boyfriend and exams is just so difficult, he just doesn’t understand that these are my priority just as much as he is” I explained in a low tone but when I looked to Bonnie she’d stopped in her tracks. I frowned confused and she lifted her hand to her sunglasses sliding them down to her nose. “You were saying?” She whispered looking straight. I followed her eye-line looking at what she was gawping at. Damon. There he was, sitting in his car with the roof down, engine on and blasting music from his radio.

Not that he was even listening to it, he was too busy scrolling on his phone. “God, he’s so difficult some times” I sighed watching him, deciding what I was going to say to him. “I suppose you’ll get a lift off him then, don’t need me” Bonnie cracked a smile nudging me. “I’ll see you Monday, I’d hug you but my hands are full with these stupid books” “see you Monday girl” she giggled waving and walking off to her car. I took a deep breath in and strode towards Damon. “What are you doing here?” I stood by his door and raised an eyeshadow.

“Well hi there gorgeous, what’s your name” he joked with a smirk looking me up and down. “What are you talking about gorgeous I’ve had no sleep for a month, I look and feel like a zombie” I replied walking round to my passenger princess side, in a slightly grumpy mood. Damon, like a gentleman, opened the door for me seeing my hands were full. “You’re always gorgeous to me y/n, you don’t have to worry about that” he smiled putting his head on his shoulder. Now that I had a free hand I was able to turn the volume down on the radio so I could talk to him without it sounding like we were in a club.

“What are you doing here Damon?” I asked in a repeated grumpy tone. “What’s it look like? I’m picking you up” he replied shrugging and gesturing to his blue car. “Yes but why? I told you Bonnie was talking me to home” “because you’re not going home I’m taking you to mine” he smiled softly at me, it was so hard to be mad at him because he was so sweet but I was sick of his lack of understanding towards how important these exams were to me. “I also told you I had to revise and couldn’t see you tonight” “I know…” he trailed off in a lower tone which made me think I’d hurt his feelings.

“I made plans for us that’s all” “Damon I have one week left of this revision shit and then I’m all yours, I don’t know why you don’t understand how important these exams are to me, they are my future, I’m stressed as fuck I just need to be revising” I told him straight but his eyesight trailed off and he began awkwardly playing with his fingers on the steering wheel. “…I can take you home if you’d prefer” he answered not looking at me. I sighed knowing now that I’d definitely hurt his feeling and scooted over laying my head on his shoulder and wrapped one arm around his neck.

“No, take me to yours, we can spend a little time together before you take me home- it’s not like I haven’t missed you” “no y/n it’s okay, I’ll take you home” “I don’t want to go home anymore Damon, I want to spend some time with you so take me back to yours” I laughed shaking my head, trying to lighten the mood just a little bit. But Damon wasn’t really interested. I suppose the time I spent with him to night wouldn’t be and nice as I’d hoped due to me being a bit too harsh and taking out my tiredness on him.

“Are you sure?” He breathed turning his head slightly towards me. I kissed his cheek before resuming back to my seat. “Yes, I’m sure” I nodded putting my hands on my lap, sitting back and waiting for him to pull off.

Damon didn’t say a word on the way back home unless I made a conversation. To that he would answer using minimal responses as if he was challenging himself to answer using as few words as possible. I eventually got tired of small talk and just looked out the window thinking about how I could make it up to him. We eventually pulled into his drive and got out the car. “I’m sorry” I blurted out. “I’m not angry at you y/n” Damon sighed walking towards the door and away from the conversation.

“But you are- I know my words weren’t- well worded in the best way but my point was still valid Damon” I told him trailing after him. He stopped at the door with the key hesitating. “If-you wanna go home? I’ll take you home” he shrugged finally looking at me. “No” I rolled my eyes shaking my head. “I just want you to understand the importance of revision for me and understand that we’re both in the wrong- you deliberately ignored my plans just so you could get me here to stick a film on for two hours and possibly get some action half way through it” I folded my arms but as soon as I said that i regretted it.

I saw his face change, his jaw locked but his eyes they stayed the same. I saw the hurt in them. “I’ll drive you home” he told me in a very neutral tone. “No we’re going to go inside and talk about this” I shook my head grabbing the key out of his hand as he walked past me heading back to his car. “I don’t want to argue with you Damon” I sighed unlocking the door “I don’t want to leave things bad between us” “wait y/n!” Damon threw his hands out as I pulled open the door. Peering inside the house I noticed a whole bunch of rose petals on the floor.

They were bright red and began from the door and trailed all the way to the stairs as well as up them. “What’s this?” I blinked after not saying anything for a while. “Nothing let me just take you home”. Hundred’s probably thousands of rose petals were placed carefully on the ground. “D- did you do this?” I whispered turning to look at him now. “…Yeah” he sighed putting his hand behind his head. “For me?” I questioned in a quieter voice. He nodded slightly looking at me subtly.

I didn’t know what to say but I did knew I felt guilty. Very guilty. “C-can I follow them?” I stuttered watching them rustle as the breeze came through the door. “Do what you like y/n” he shrugged standing up straight. I stepped inside the house after watching him for a few seconds. Onto the rose petals I walked and slowly while admiring them I followed the trail towards the stairs. They went up as if it was a huge wave coming towards me but with each step I felt more and more guilt sink in.

They lead me into Damon’s bedroom. Where on the bed there was a huge box of chocolates and a bottle of champagne. The petals then led into the bathroom where there was a huge bubble bath when I went round the corner. Candles everywhere I looked, they lit up the place so the lights didn’t even need turning on. I stood in awe as I heard Damon creeping up the stairs. “Damon” I turned to look at him.

“this is all new to me y/n… being with- a human is new- it takes some getting used to but I wish you knew how hard im trying” he replied before I could even get a word out. “I see that now- I see how blind I was damon, I was being selfish and I was horrible to you and you- you were so sweet” I sniffed as ny eyes started to fill up. I slowly walked to the bed wiping my tears away that had trickled down my face.

“Don’t cry y/n- I probably should have gone about it in a different way- you did tell me you were busy tonight and I did ignore that” he sighed walking over and putting his arm around me. “Don’t do that, you’re not in the wrong I spoke to you awfully and you only ignored it so you could do all these sweet things for me- you wasn’t being selfish like I was” I shook my head crying onto his shoulder now. “I knew you were stressed I just wanted you to have one relaxed night so you don’t overwhelm yourself with work- I know you have a tendency to do that” he giggled squeezing me.

“I’m sorry for what I said, you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met- no one has ever done anything like this for me before, my heart just melted” I sniffed looking up into his eyes. “You deserve this y/n you’ve been working so hard” he rubbed my arm softly. “But I would never pull you away from somewhere to be selfish and get some- action” he continued in a more stern voice making it clear he didn’t like that comment. “I know I know- it was stupid to say I was pissed it just fell out- I regretted it as soon as I said it I promise” I shook my head sniffing.

“I know you did babe I saw it in your eyes, just wanted to highlight it- So stop crying and let’s open this drink” he smiled leaning in for a quick kiss. I held his face as he drew back smiling and pulled him back in again this time for a little longer. “I love you Damon, so much” I whispered rubbing my thumb across his cheek.

“I love you y/n, always”.

Masterlist

All series masterlist

The vampire diaries masterlist

Damon Salvatore masterlist

(Having a boyfriend is cool but it’s hard when you have to juggle exams and a relationship. Having to choose between revising for an exam that could affect your whole future and spending time with the person you see as your future. But just remember it’s temporary, and your partner will want you to do well, they will want the best for you. Exams are the priority and don’t let anyone take that away from you and don’t feel guilty putting yourself first, they should want to see you succeed. So do what you feels right.)

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retcur · 4 months

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Whatever you do, don’t panic!

#my art #I don’t know if you can tell but this took me WEEKS #nothing ever takes me weeks #but I liked the book so much I actually followed through #also why is bbc’s adaptation so full of heart and neons #h2g2 #the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy #thhgttg #arthur dent #ford prefect #digital art #digital painting #artist on tumblr #art

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dragonseeds · 7 months

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what are your thoughts on rhaegar and lyanna?

oh i love them! there’s all this talk of them haunting the narrative and they do, but i’d take it further and say they are the black hole at the center of the story. the choices that they made, starting with lyanna’s decision to defend howland reed and what that meant to both him and rhaegar, who was very likely at his lowest point at harrenhal after the ruination of his careful plans, touched or changed the lives of every character and plot line in the series. the story itself is such a fun mashup of tristan and iseult, lancelot and guinevere, helen and paris, the fall of camelot and all of arthuriana really, the classic trope of the princess in the tower and the dragon and the knight: all of that in one couple and we don’t get to experience any of it with them. we can guess and speculate, but we can never truly know them. we experience their story only through the memories the people who survived the war they ostensibly kicked off, and those memories are all heavily colored by trauma, guilt, nostalgia—alternately faded and sharpened by time. it’s this incredibly fun and brilliant reconstruction of some of the most enduring tragedies in folklore and mythology and i adore it.

hate beyond articulation the way asoiaf.tumblr.edu approaches their relationship and the individual characterizations of both of them, though. just absolutely some of the most insufferably sanctimonious disingenuous decontextualized analysis i’ve ever experienced—much of that coming from people viewing this through a historical lense instead of a thematic one. like, imagine approaching the battle of the trident as “rhaegar is a bad person for fighting for his father who was evil! he lost the moral high ground with that one” as opposed to “rhaegar as a character exists to fail and die; he was the last dragon, carrying the unbearable weight of his family’s legacy and the burden of the prophecy for which they conquered westeros: the end of his life is the end of the targaryen dynasty. he must fail and he must die, so that dany and jon can grow up free of that weight and that power. daenerys gets to redefine what it means to be targaryen on her own terms. she and jon separately and unknowingly do the things that he thought he had to do—the things he was conceived and born to do—but never knew how: they do it because of their circumstances, because of the people that they have grown into, because they believe it is their duty, because they have the power to do it.” also, like, re: interpretations of battle of the trident, is there maybe another battle that occurs later in the series that is exactly the same thematically and contextually? where perhaps a character who was missing for a while shows up on the eve of battle, knowing that the opposition is right and their cause is just but that his family will die if he doesn’t fight with them? anything that adds an extra layer of meaning to what happens, aside from dany’s own connection—which is not as thematically similar but is still incredibly meaningful. like i certainly don’t think there’s any one interpretation of a character or story, but the worst ones are consistently applied to rhaegar.

and then with lyanna in particular, it’s like people cannot stomach her or find her sympathetic as a character unless they’re wallowing in her eternal victimhood. the constant dismissal of the importance of lyanna’s actions and what they meant to rhaegar is pure misogyny, by the way. her choices and her agency, the inherent meaningfulness of the struggle for both of those things in a system that seeks to reduce her to her body and the use men can make of it—all of that is important. the person she was and what that meant to people was important, but from the way i most often see her discussed, it’s like her gendered death is the only thing that matters. it’s okay to lament her because she got crushed by the wheel. if she hadn’t, if she wasn’t a victim to write flagellatory meta about, she would be a hypocrite, someone who needed to learn a lesson—as difficult for some of these people to relate to as dany or rhaenyra apparently are.

like, it’s just wild to me because her kindness to howland reed and her choice to defend him, to disguise herself as the knight of the laughing tree and risk her life and reputation to fight for him—is the answer to and the embodiment of one of the most thematically significant questions in the series. we see it most prominently in dany’s chapters because she asks it directly: why do the gods make kings and queens if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves? that’s what lyanna did, when no one else was doing it: she had more honor than any knight at that tourney or any man sitting on the small council, and it meant something to rhaegar. like what about this is hard to understand? i think he must have idealized her immediately: she must have seemed like something out of a song or a story to him, and rhaegar was a singer, a songwriter, a bard: he knows how stories are supposed to go—how to finish a song, or at least he thought he did.

bran, who also loves stories, says it himself: “and the mystery knight should win the tourney, defeating every challenger, and name the wolf maid the queen of love and beauty.” like obviously bran has some critiques i cut out, but he has the ending right—only the wolf maid was the knight, and she couldn’t have won. in the feudal gender prison, women are rewarded for being beautiful and their worth is derived from that and from what their bodies provide. she should’ve won the whole thing, but the system doesn’t allow that, so rhaegar—in a fit of single-minded capital r romantic hero idiocy—dedicates himself to winning the tourney to honor her in the only way he can: the only way the system allows him to recognize her. it was the worst possible move he could make at that time because of the romantic connotations, but i love him for doing it, as stupid as it was and even though there is no way it didn’t hurt and humiliate elia, or make him look terrible when he desperately needed to make a good impression on the lords of the realm—it’s just such a Moment. being reminded that there’s good in the world—feeling hope in the face of endless abject overwhelming despair—how do you express gratitude for that? the idea that he could only doing it by hurting someone who didn’t deserve it and making himself look like an ass is fucking awesome. i’m genuinely so sorry for people are incapable of enjoying that. could not be me!

but that’s just my interpretation of what happened at harrenhal. like i said, part of why i like them so much is that we truly don’t know. while i love darker relationships in general, the idea that he crowned her at harrenhal because he wanted to impregnate her then does not work for me. it’s a popular theory, but it renders some of the very few contextual clues we are given about what happened meaningless. for one, he didn’t know that elia wouldn’t be able to have more children at that time. this was discovered after she gave birth to aegon, and that is the point at which the question of the third child appears to have become a motivating factor for him. i personally think he left for the riverlands to consult with the ghost of high heart—the one whose prophecy is the reason he was born, the reason is parents were forced to marry, the reason his family burned alive the night he came into the world—and ran into lyanna somewhere near harrenhal. it’s possible he had been in contact with her prior to this (how? without her family knowing? what are the logistics of that?) but i think it’s just as likely it was pure chance. i really like the idea that his crowning her queen of love and beauty caused lyanna’s father to set a date for her wedding to robert or talk of moving it up, maybe even suggest a double wedding at riverrun, which would have almost certainly caused her to balk. either way, high heart is located between harrenhal and riverrun. arya also stops there while she’s kidnapped by the brotherhood without banners on the way to ransom her to her family at riverrun, and they trade songs to the ghost for her dreams and prophecies. i think it’s worth noting because arya’s journey in the riverlands mirrors lyanna’s right down to her “death” as arya stark when she leaves for braavos, paying the ferryman’s fee with the coin jaqen h’ghar gave her—just as jon’s journey at the wall mirrors rhaegar’s in many ways right up until his own death.

i also don’t think rhaegar and lyanna eloped because they were in love—this is implied by lyanna’s famous quote—but that they did come to love each other deeply, which is suggested by the way they died: her roses and him saying her name. notably, rhaegar did not leave the tower of his own volition—someone had to come and get him with news of war, which is hilarious because i think the tower of joy is right in the middle of like three major battles of the rebellion? like quite frankly, if he didn’t love her or care for anything beyond the prophecy and if she didn’t love him despite how badly things went wrong, then where in their story is the heart in conflict with itself?

i do want to clarify that i love the tower entrapment and the power imbalance aspects of their relationship as much as i love (what i interpret as) the genuine respect for each other that grew into love: it’s really the tension of those disparate elements that interests me. a dragon can love the maiden, but he’s only ever a dragon—still liable to hoard her like treasure or burn her up and rip her open trying to be gentle, to protect. that FUCKS, sorry! love is sweet and hopeful, but it’s also at exactly the same time horror, consumption, destruction.

idk it’s myopic to act like the beginning or the ending of their relationship—of their lives—is the summation of it. i think people want their story to be easy when it’s not: a clear case of a villain and his victims where everyone knows who to root for and no one has to think too much about things that are difficult or uncomfortable, questions where there probably isn’t an answer that doesn’t hurt someone. what a sad, tedious way to approach any text, but specifically this one. i’ve sometimes seen it suggested that if their story is romantic then it’s an endorsement or justification of all the “bad” things that happened because of it, and that’s also stupid. grrm as an author is never going to be someone who tells us how to feel about anything: he presents these characters and situations, often as a means of exploring certain facets of the human condition, and each of us has to come up with our own answers and find our own meaning. i don’t think he always knows what he means, or what those answers are, you know? but for me rhaegar and lyanna are one of the most fascinating parts of story, and whatever the truth is—if we ever find out—i can’t imagine a scenario where i don’t love them or find them really interesting and wonderfully sad.

#lyanna stark #rhaegar targaryen #rhaelya #i’d apologize for this being so long but u have got to all be used to me by now #like i couldn’t be succinct at gunpoint #or coherent apparently #and especially not about this like i’m not normal about either of them #also just to clarify because this kind of turned into a rant: none of this applies to people i follow #but like. i sincerely think that 90% of the meta about them (individually + their relationship) is bad lol #and part of that is bc so much of it is based on fanon instead of what is actually in the books #and that frustration really comes through in this post and i regret that but it’s out there now lol #asoiaf

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