#everything about this is so so wistful it makes my heart hurt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kechiwrites · 1 year

Text

white flag toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader part 5/?

synopsis: maybe it's time to give up the ghost. lord knows you tried.

wc: 2k

cw: afab!reader, angst, hurt and some comfort (finally), language, allusions to postpartum depression, abandonment issues, trust issues, no gendered language, discussions of pregnancy. no use of y/n ever.

author’s note: the talk is finally here! i hope you enjoy, i am very proud of it. new to baby blue? start here.

It’s almost one in the morning when the bed creaks under Ghost's body, signalling his departure. The immediate absence of his warmth, the loss of his skin on yours makes you miserable in a way you wish you didn't have to examine. It makes you feel weak and yearning and empty and wistful all at once, tumbling all the emotions together until it spills out of your mouth unbidden.

“Will you stay?” You whisper it, almost as if you want it to go unheard.

It's heard.

Immediately, Ghost stops moving, stops dressing. Hell, you're almost positive he'd stopped breathing.

“You want me to?” he turns to face you, expression typically placid but his body frozen with tension.

You feel like you’re going to be sick all over your sheets when you croak “yeah” out into the stillness of your bedroom, spitting your white flag at his feet, for him to accept or trample over.

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity. Staring into each other's faces like they hold the answers to all the bullshit questions you made in each other.

You break first.

"C'mere. Please." You shift under your blanket, nodding your head towards the indent he’d made in your mattress, the sheets still warm from his heat.

Ghost is quick to move, reclaiming his spot in your bed, sliding under your covers and into your grasp, where you can cling to him like you wanted to years ago. Like you want to now.

Your head sits on the swell of his chest, his heart beating even and quick below your ear. The position you're in makes your lower back twinge, but neither of you move, your legs now twisted in his. Initially, when he’d returned after Tommy’s fourth birthday, you’d been worried about what you’d say to him, how you’d finally tell him everything you’ve been thinking from the moment he left you. Now, the words are easy. They come when they are called, straight from your mind, stewed in your grief, pinched, sorrowful words, soaked with your tears, spoken into the dark, thin fabric of his shirt.

“I hate you.” You gasp, and wind howls through the cavern in your chest, “I hate you so much, I wish I never met you.” Hot tears burn your eyes and slide over your nose and cheeks, you hiccup through your burning throat and just speak.

"You ruined my life, you gave me this person, this little person who needs me for everything, and then you abandoned me. For so long I hated you and I hated him." Ghost's chest stops rising and falling for a moment when you confess it, the shame and anger catching him off guard. It's clear he can't quite believe it after seeing you with Tommy day after day, being who your son needed you to be, raising him, loving him, all like it was second nature. And why should he? He was off God knows where, doing God knows what while you tumbled through heavy bouts of depression and self loathing. Days where you wanted to stay rotting in your bed, but Tommy's reedy, desperate cries forced you to rise, to resist.

"I hated my own son. My baby. Because of you." The window in your bedroom is open, and the rain outside gets heavier, like it’s trying to drown out the sounds of your confession, your accusation, like it wants to bury your humiliation and vitriol under the rushing white noise. Fill the cavern with water instead of letting it close.

“Why couldn't you just stay for me, Simon? Why couldn't you be who I needed you to be?”

He’s breathing again, slow and steady but you can hear his heart thud irregularly in his chest, like it’s trying to follow the thread of your thoughts, but it can’t quite keep tempo.

‘He’s scared.’ you think, and for the first time, in a long time, it doesn’t feel good.

“I felt like I was dying. Tommy has your big ass head,” your laughter sounds like a death rattle, but you press on, spilling the dark, black ichor of the past onto Simon, into the bed you share. "It hurt so bad, the worst pain I ever felt. And I was alone. You left me alone. I wanted to die so bad.”

“I'm sorry.” he finally speaks, and it’s always a little surreal to hear his voice without it being muffled by a mask after so long. Strange to hear how deep and clear his voice can be when there isn’t a barrier between you, or your blood rushing past your ears.

Ghost is holding you so tight, like you’ll get up and bolt at any minute, and maybe you will. Cause he’d deserve it. He’d deserve to be left behind. Just this once.

“Why? You knew what you were doing to me. You left knowing I wanted him. Knowing I'd do it all by myself. And now you're back, and you want to what? Fuck me? Break me? What do you want, Simon? How can I make you stop this…game you're playing.” You’re crying again, a small headache beginning to form at the base of your skull, reminding you what sorrow costs, what getting it all out will bring you. Pain. Pain that leaves you feeble and empty and bone-fucking-tired.

Somehow, his arms tighten around you further, feeling all at once like attachment and hatred and deep deep longing for intimacy with the one person who saw you as you were and decided he didn't want to stick around to see the rest.

“And you know what? I know that none of this means shit for you because I let you fuck me again. Because I have no goddamn self control." You have to rein yourself back from shouting into the dark. "No self respect. A-and I can't stop missing you, missing you and me together, because it felt so real, it felt like you loved me." You anchor yourself up, letting the tears that collected on your nose and cheeks fall onto his chest. The pressure in your ears changes and you sniff against your runny nose. You feel pathetic, tiny in the wake of the all encompassing ache he brings with him everywhere. You can barely see him in the dark but you try to meet his eyes anyway. "If you ever, ever cared about me, if you care about your son, Simon, you will stop trying to break me down. You will give up on being a family. You lost your fucking chance. And it's not fair for you to come back when I know - I know - you're going to leave again."

You're short of breath and light headed when you finally stop, gulping down air and springing up tears for the third time, burning hot on your face, stinging your eyes so badly you worry the pain will never subside.

He waits a moment, before he sits up too, like he wants to be sure you got it all out before he tries and inevitably fails to make everything better.

"I fucked up. I get that. But I can't let go of it. Of this." His voice creates this itch inside your head, like it needs something specific to go away. You’re sitting between his legs now, hands fisted in your soft white blanket, the body warmed fabric poking out between your fingers.

“I’m trying, and you don’t want me to. He doesn’t need me to. But I want to.”

You both sit with it for a while, chewing on each other’s regrets, on his mistakes, on your heartache. It’s strange, hearing an actual apology from him, like you’d dreamed about early on. Cloudy blue and pink fantasies about opening your front door and seeing the father of your child on his knees, begging for forgiveness, grovelling for a second chance. It hadn’t happened, of course. And you’d let him into your bed anyway, because you’d missed him, four years and five months had passed you by and you still felt his absence, still felt cold at night, still felt empty in the morning. So when he knocked, you let him in.

And maybe that’s where the next question you ask him comes from. You were rarely jealous when you were actually "together", but now, the idea of Simon, your Simon, cuddled up with someone different? Enjoying himself while you toiled? Chuckling deep and low while you cried to your ceiling? It made your stomach turn. Maybe you weren't so much jealous as you were bitter. Bitter, you knew. Bitter was your closest friend. Bitter stood by your side while you raised your son, paid your bills, scrubbed your floors. Bitter was all you could taste lately.

"Was there ever…anyone else?"

He shifts next to you. Tries to play it off like a stretch. Like the line of questioning didn't burrow under his skin like a mite, eager to lay eggs that hatch guilt into his blood.

But you know better. You know him better.

"No one important." He mutters.

"Well that doesn't matter, I wasn't important and you knocked me up!" Your laugh smacks of your best friend, its acrid taste settling in your mouth.

"You were important. Are important." He asserts, circling his hand around the back of your neck, squeezing once before he lets go.

"Not enough for you to stay. Or call." You mumble.

You aren't even looking at him and you know his hand is up over his face, shielding him from God knows what.

“I needed you to stay the same. And you couldn’t anymore.” You want to turn and face him, argue that he changed you. You didn’t make your son by yourself after all. He stops you, keeps you facing your bedroom wall while he hunches over to press his face into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder.

"And I don’t want to need anybody, I haven’t in a long time."

"Least of all me, huh?"

“You know that isn’t true.”

“I don’t know shit.” You gesture around your hands waving over the entire of your bedroom. “Clearly. If I knew what you thought of me, we wouldn’t be here. In this fucking…mess. Right?”

It’s another white flag, if you were being honest, an opportunity for him to take your olive branch and not smack you across the face with it. A sign that the fuel for this particular fire, at least, has begun to burn out, leaving little but glowing embers behind.

In lieu of speaking, his arms tighten around you again. It’s not an answer, not really, but you leave it alone. You push on a different wound. And another. And another. You poke and prod Simon with every question you’d had while he was gone, and you don’t care about the blood you leave in your wake.

“Does the force know?” They do now.

“How?” I told ‘em.

“Why’d you tell them?” It’s…You’re important.

“No we aren’t. Not to you.” A shake of the head and a quiet rebuttal.

Eventually, it feels like the two of you keep speaking in circles, he asserts things are different, you doubt and lay righteous blame, he apologizes and asserts things have changed now, and so on and so forth until the late hour tugs at your swollen eyelids. He pulls you down to the mattress, lays back and arranges you across his chest once more. Your legs fit together a little better now, and you can feel sleep slowly taking hold of you.

Before you slip under, you murmur into his chest; "Simon.” He makes a low noise in his throat, an indication of his attention. “Do you love me? Did you ever love me?" It’s a plea for the truth, for an answer so irrefutable that it finally soothes the ache, scratches the itch, mends the torn fabric that lays between you.

"You're as close as I ever got." You feel his lips press against the crown of your head before you fall asleep, succumbing to a simple, dreamless slumber.

When you wake up the next morning, he's there. Not sleeping. His hair is a mess, and his face is bare. He's reclined against your headboard, reading a romance paperback you borrowed from the library, frowning at the yellowed pages like it's written in Latin.

When you start to cry, he holds you until Tommy stirs awake, knocking at your door for Sunday morning pancakes.

so...what'd we think? this one made my husband cry :)

series masterlist here

support city girls who like sad broken men, reblog what you like.

1K notes · View notes

adore-laur · 5 months

Text

YOU MAKE IT FEEL LIKE CHRISTMAS

— a holiday addition to the dadrry universe 🎄

❅ ❅ ❅

Red wine is an elixir of reminiscence.

As twilight fades into dusk, you let the velvety Cabernet Sauvignon warm your bloodstream and bring forth memories of the festive seasons gone by. Childhood recollections of sneaking down the hallway before sunrise, captivated by the magical scene made by the plump man who somehow slid down the chimney. Wrapping presents galore while sitting by the twinkling evergreen, the stacks piling higher and higher each year. Baking desserts and listening to Christmas music, the scent of gingerbread mingling with the seaside air. All those moments were nostalgia happening in real-time, engulfing you until they unraveled like a ribbon box of wistfulness.

You're lost in a blissful reverie while watching Harry swiftly round the kitchen island. He's eating the last half of a frosted cookie and untucking his black henley from his sweatpants.

"You've gone quiet on me," he says while chewing, his fist raised to his mouth.

Your vision breaks away from him and refocuses on the entrancing flames in the fireplace. "Just thinking."

"'Bout what?" he asks, reclaiming his glass of wine that he abandoned on the mantle shelf.

"How this will be our eighth Christmas together."

He whistles in a decrescendo and sits next to you. "Really? How are you not sick of me yet?"

"Trust me, you push the limit sometimes."

"Only because I love you."

You roll your eyes affectionately, then say, "I was also thinking about how emotional I'll be tomorrow."

Harry smiles as he begins soothingly rubbing your back. "You always get emotional on Christmas."

At the mere thought of it, you flatten your lips and look at him miserably. The childlike wonder you'll get to witness is nothing to shed tears over, yet you can't help but know you'll feel the pitiful pull on your maternal heartstrings.

"I'm a mess," you say defeatedly.

"No, no, no. Come here and give me a hug." He instinctively reaches for your hand and tugs you toward him. "Bring it in."

You clumsily situate yourself in his lap and curl into his warm body. Your muscles relax, but the tears still spill over. It's irrevocable.

"Why are you crying?" Harry croons, propping his chin on your head and swaying you consolingly. "Hmm? You break my heart when you cry."

Sniffling, you bury your face into his chest and mumble, "She's growing up too fast."

His throat bobs. "I know. It hurts me too."

"But it hurts, like, deep in my soul. Sometimes I physically feel the ache when I look at her."

"She's three." The featherlight touch of his fingertips trails up and down your spine. "That's still young, yeah? And don't forget we've got a new little baby."

"She's our firstborn, though," you say mournfully, staring at him. You remember exactly what it felt like to hold her for the first time. She changed everything for us. It feels like it was just yesterday when we brought her home, and now she's walking around and doing things all by herself. Where did the time go?"

"I don't have the answer to that, sweetheart," Harry replies, his eyes darting over your distraught face. "Time goes by too quickly."

"She starts preschool next year." You shake your head in disbelief and gape at him incredulously. "Harry, do you hear me? Preschool."

"I hear you." He looks genuinely concerned as he shifts his legs in order to hold you better, cradling the sides of your head to stop it from shaking. Smart of him to do so since the wine is making you a bit dizzy. "Hey, I hear you. Always. We'll cry in the car together when we drop her off on her first day, deal? Right now, let's focus on tonight and enjoy Christmas Eve. Let's watch our babies grow one day at a time."

More tears sting your eyes and nose like a thousand tiny bees. "Do you feel it when you look at her?"

His features turn sad, yet a ghost of a smile still appears. "Of course," he whispers. "It's embarrassing the number of times I've teared up just from watching her simply exist."

"You know what always gets me?" you ask thoughtfully. A tender kiss is planted on your forehead in encouragement to continue. "When she brings you seashells. It kills me every time."

The corner of his mouth twitches. "I hope she never stops doing that. It melts my heart."

"She's so sweet. We're raising such a beautiful girl."

"Two beautiful girls."

You pout, feeling overwhelmingly sentimental. "I want to wake them up and snuggle with them."

"Don't," he says with a wary laugh, "or they'll be cranky little devils tomorrow morning."

"I love waking them up, though."

"So do I," he agrees in a way that is so sincere it makes you even more emotional. "Although tomorrow we'll be the ones woken up first."

You sigh dreamily. "That's true. I love it when they open their sleepy eyes, and the first thing they see is me. And then they smile."

To provide your children with a sense of happiness, even if they're not fully conscious of it yet, is the greatest gift you could ever possess.

"Being their first smile of the day," Harry says softly, "is what being a parent is all about, you know? Getting to see their faces look more and more like yours each day. Hearing them laugh and holding them in my arms. I always think to myself how fuckin' lucky I am to be their dad."

Letting a teardrop fall, you finally succumb to the wine-drunk dramatics. "They love you so much."

It's his turn for his eyes to sparkle with tears. "They're my girls. My best friends."

"You are everything to them. The way they look at you and listen to every word you speak is so amazing. I can't think of anything quite like it."

Tracing the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, Harry says, "They have my favorite parts of your face. When they smile, their eyes shape and light up the same way yours do." He hums thoughtfully and smoothly dances his gaze around your features. "Got their mom's nose, too."

You wipe your tears and take a sip of wine, letting him continue admiring you like a work of art in The Louvre. You do the same to him, obsessed with how the light from the flames flickers over his skin. Your lucky stars are definitely out tonight.

"I want you to get grey hair," you blurt, not even realizing what you said until Harry retracts his head with a bewildered expression.

"I beg your pardon?" he asks through a shocked laugh, reaching for his wine glass. "I'm only thirty-two! Good grief, woman."

Shrugging, you imagine the inevitable physical change. Maybe the one curly strand of hair that always falls over his forehead will start to lighten into an ash color. Or perhaps it'll start with his stubble turning a salt and pepper two-tone. Either way, you know you'll be all over him when it happens.

"It'd be hot, just saying."

"You're a dirty liar," he murmurs around the rim of his glass, his voice slightly muffled.

"A dad I'd like to fuck is what you are. Sue me."

Harry smirks gradually, his lips stained a delectable shade of scarlet. "What," he enunciates slowly, "has gotten into you tonight?"

"Nothing," you say coyly. "You're just really attractive when you drink wine."

His pupils appear darker and more dilated as he intensely stares at you. His cheeks are tinted with a flush due to the alcohol. Whenever they draw up in a smile, his dimples emerge, and he's genuinely never looked more kissable. Because his mouth... oh, his mouth.

When Harry sets his wine down and finally lingers it near your ear, his berry-scented breath sending shivers across your entire body, you're his entirely. He then speaks in a drawl that makes you tighten your legs around his waist. "I think this wine has gone from here" — he hovers his fingers over your stomach and then trails them up to your temple, tapping twice — "to here."

You swallow a noise of desperation. "I want you to kiss me."

Nipping your earlobe, he asks, "Where, baby?"

"Your choice."

"Sure about that?"

"Yes. Don't test my patience."

He doesn't say anything and promptly lays you down on your back, the carpet providing cushioning as your husband hovers over you with his hands placed on either side of your dizzy head. The room spins, but all you focus on is him.

He takes his time and leaves slow, practiced kisses on your lips, coaxing them open with his wine-flavored tongue. It's clear as day that he's never lost his temptation. If anything, it's grown now that he knows how to get specific reactions out of you. Like if he nudges his nose against yours, you'll take control of his mouth. If he reaches for your ankle, you'll spread your legs further apart. If he walks his fingers down your inner thigh, well, you won't hesitate to flip positions.

Eight years with him proves he knows every instinct of your body like no one does.

"Harry, we can't," you say when he starts rocking his hips. "I'm not cleared yet."

He stops and groans against your shoulder. "Fuck."

The doctor hasn't given you the green light to have sex again since giving birth a month ago. If you're being completely honest, you're almost dreading when it'll finally happen because of how it felt after having your first child. It wasn't pleasurable, it didn't last long, and you weren't feeling the best about your postpartum appearance. Harry had been gracious and attentive, but for lack of better words, it sucked.

"Did I ruin the moment?" you ask, your skin prickly with embarrassment.

"No," Harry breathes out. "Hell no. Look at you, baby. I'm unbelievably hard right now."

"Should we... can we—"

"We can just do foreplay if that's what you're asking. It's completely up to you."

Your tipsy brain thinks of one thing and one thing only. "Thigh."

His eyebrows twitch as he licks the corner of his mouth. "Hmm? You're mumbling."

"Thigh," you utter again.

"My what? I can't hear you over the fire."

"Harry," you grit out impatiently. "You know what I'm saying. Please, before the mood is actually ruined."

"You wanna ride it?" he asks for confirmation.

"Yes. Now shut up."

"We have to be quiet, darling."

"I can be quiet. Can you be quiet?"

"With you on my lap? Probably not."

Looking up at the ceiling and taking a calming breath, you say, "This is so risky. I hate you."

Harry tuts. "Why do you hate me?"

"Because you're so..." you trail off, searching for the right word. "So alluring all the time. And I can't help myself when you look at me like you do. It's aggravating."

"Personally, I think it's just your hormones talking." He hikes a thumb over his shoulder. "The baby monitor is on the couch, love, so don't worry. We'll make this nice and quick."

"Fine. Okay."

He stretches his legs out while you position yourself over his thigh. Your underwear is already damp as you begin slowly grinding over the thick muscle. He's hard under his sweatpants, a sight you've missed seeing and being able to do something about it. His hands latch onto your waist to guide your movements, and he moans as his whole body shudders from the first sexually intimate contact he's had with you in a month.

"Someone's got an appetite tonight," he says proudly. "It's okay, so do I. But we gotta be quiet."

A salacious thrill runs down your spine because of his determination to get you off. As you use his thigh and grip his shoulders, the fire beside you heats your already ignited body. He searches for your lips, his skin glowing, eyebrows pinched with pleasure. His broad chest provides support as you lean into him, feeling the pulse of your forthcoming orgasm grow stronger. You need it desperately. You're attempting to keep any noises from escaping, but it's been so insufferably long since you've felt him this way. Moans, whimpers, and panted breaths unabashedly break loose.

"Look at me," Harry says lowly. "What did I say? Do I need to cover your mouth?"

"You're making noise too! Don't—"

His large palm covers the lower half of your face, cutting off your sentence. "What did I say?" he repeats.

You roll your eyes and continue circling your hips over him to offer some relief. "I'm almost there," you mumble against his hand. "I'm close."

"I'm so gone for you," he murmurs, removing his hand and kissing your neck. "You're something else, do you know that? Gonna make a mess on my lap?"

You whine into his mouth. "Yeah. Do the thing."

Harry purposefully flexes his thigh muscle, the movement putting heavenly pressure on your clit. It does the trick, and you come as he stifles your moans so no innocent ears hear, his own groans muffled as you kiss through the climax.

"I missed doing this with you," you whisper, grinding against him one last time.

"I know." He grunts, his body stilling. "I know, honey."

"And I love you. You're so good to me and our family."

"We're perfect together, aren't we?"

"So fucking perfect," you say as your eyes flutter shut. Every breath you take is heavy, your lungs filling with pure contentment.

"Let's get you cleaned up." He hooks your legs around his waist, and his elbow accidentally knocks over his wine glass. Dark red liquid pools on the hearth, the dying fire reflecting off it. "Shit. Goddamnit."

"Harry," you groan as he clumsily untangles himself from you and jogs to the kitchen.

❅ ❅ ❅

Your eyes shoot open when a startling noise resounds in the pitch-black bedroom. It doesn't register until your mind slowly fades into consciousness, realizing it's Harry's ringtone.

The bedside clock displays 5:39 a.m. It's Christmas morning. Who in the world is calling so early?

You remain still until Harry is eventually woken up by it. The mattress creaks as he stands and takes his phone to the master bathroom. You turn the bedside lamp on, and after five minutes of incoherent mumbling coming through the cracked door, he shuffles out with a crease between his eyebrows.

"Who was that?" you ask sleepily while stretching your legs under the covers.

Harry silently paces before saying, "My boss."

You yawn and rub your bleary eyes, then lean against the headboard. "Wishing you a Merry Christmas? That's nice of him."

"No," he replies in his husky morning voice, blankly staring at the wall behind you. "He, uh... he asked me if I could come to work today."

Silence pierces the atmosphere for several seconds before you finally ask, "What?"

"He said three people called out already."

You whip your head toward the clock. "It's not even six yet."

"Tell me about it," he says with zero emotion. I don't even know what to say. I told him I'd call him back once I've woken up a bit more."

Harry is most prone to being grumpy in the mornings. You hate that he's in a sour mood before the sun has even risen.

"Just tell him you're not going to. We'll get jumped on in less than an hour to open presents."

He runs a heavy hand down his face, stopping it under his lips. "It would only be for the first half of the day. I can make it back home for presents in the afternoon."

"What are you talking about?" Either he's sleepwalking, or he's gone mad. Maybe you're having a bad dream. "Christmas is an all-day thing, Harry. It always has been."

He struggles with words before saying, "My work relies on me. I need you to understand that."

Now you're wide awake with irritation. "Are you joking? You're on paternity leave. Never in a million years would I have thought you'd put work before your family."

The first nerve is struck, and it's written all over Harry's face.

"That's such a fuckin' low blow, and you know it," he says angrily. "I have always, always put our family first."

"You're sure as hell not doing it now!" You throw your arms out to the side and get out of bed.

"You're starting an argument on Christmas? Really?"

"Yeah, I am," you reply pettily.

Harry towers over you with a clenched jaw, pointing at his chest. "I demoted myself so I could be with my family more."

"Oh, don't you dare pull that card on me."

"I'm not pulling any card on you! I'm defending myself for crying out loud!"

"Lower your voice," you hiss at him. "Our daughter doesn't need to be more upset than she already will be when she finds out her dad isn't home on Christmas morning."

You struck below the belt, and now he's wounded.

Harry's stoic expression crumbles into one of devastation, his shoulders sagging with undeniable hurt. "Can you just listen to me?" His tone wavers with emotion. You immediately lower your defenses and swallow down guilt. "Please," he adds quietly. "I hate arguing with you. I hate it so much."

"I'm sorry," you choke out, hiding your face in your palms. "I didn't mean it."

Strong arms wrap around you, his hands spreading on your back. "I know you didn't mean it. We both need to calm down, okay? Can we sit?"

You nod and mumble, "Sure."

He lowers you to the floor and says, "Let's just talk this through. Tell me we're okay. Tell me it's just holiday stress getting to us."

Your head starts to pound from how deep your eyebrows plunge. "Why are you speaking like that? We're fine."

Harry's tired eyes bore into yours. "Because we're saying hurtful things and the thought of losing you is unbearable."

"You're not losing me. I'm allowed to be frustrated."

"Then please let me know what's going on in your mind. I always have to remind you to talk to me, otherwise nothing gets resolved."

"I already told you," you say while playing with the knotted string on his pajama pants. "I don't like how you're considering going to work instead of being here. That hurts my feelings."

Harry kisses your face and murmurs, "I'm sorry, love. It's early, and I'm in a weird headspace. It's all that damn wine we drank last night."

"Do you have a headache?"

"A brutal one."

You rub your temples. "Same here."

"Listen," he says, "I'm halfway through my paternity leave, so I think a part of me feels guilty for refusing to go in, considering I haven't worked the past month."

"I get that, but can you understand where I'm coming from?" you ask, still being showered with his tender morning kisses. "Any other day, I'd be fine with it, but it's our baby's first Christmas. Look me in the eye and tell me you'd seriously rather be at work prepping food for rich people who need to dine out for the holidays."

"You know I'd rather be here. I always want to be here with you guys."

"Then call your boss and say you're not coming in. You can't always be a yes man. Otherwise, you'll get walked over."

"Am I really a yes man?"

"Sometimes."

He slumps against you. "I don't want you to think I don't fight for our family."

You frown. "I don't think that. I will never forget when you demoted yourself. Yes, I was furious when you first told me, but then I realized how important it is for you to be present and bond with your children."

"I'll call my boss and tell him no." He hugs you and gives you a sweet smile. "Only if you promise you're not mad at me."

"I'm not mad," you say, fondly pinching his cheek. "Now get your butt up and bring me some Advil."

He gestures a salute. "Yes, ma'am."

❅ ❅ ❅

You're woken up again, this time by a slight pressure on your legs and two little hands shaking your shoulders.

"Santa came! Mama, Santa came!"

"Shh, shh, shh," you hush her lisped voice as you open your eyes. It takes a minute to become aware of your surroundings, and you eventually see Harry passed out on the bed by your feet, wrapped in his white robe and lying on his back as he sleeps. After your talk, he took a shower to clear his head and must have fallen asleep again.

"Can you wait until I get your sister up?" you whisper. "Then you can jump on Dad."

She nods, her messy curls bouncing every which way. You quietly get up and wander down the hallway toward the nursery. Surprisingly, your baby girl only cried twice throughout the night.

Once her diaper is changed and she's dressed in a festive onesie, you return to the bedroom with her cradled in your arms. You're greeted with a barely awake Harry, who is trying to tame the wild beast. Playful growls followed by shrieking laughter echo off the walls. You could've guessed that she wouldn't listen.

His eyes instantly soften when he sees you holding his new favorite person. "Why is your little nose all red?" he says to her. "You look like Rudolph."

You pass her over before sitting on the edge of the bed. "She loves untucking her arms from the swaddle at night, so she gets cold. She's an escape artist."

"A cute escape artist," he says, looking down at his girl. "Look how cute you are. I'm gonna eat your cheeks. I'm gonna do it!" He pretends to munch on her chubby cheeks until her happy noises fill the room.

After thirty minutes of warm snuggles in bed and letting the sunrise peek through the curtains, everyone eventually gathers in the living room to start the day. Harry, now in a much better mood, immediately goes into full dad mode so everything runs smoothly and no one is crabby on Christmas.

"What can I make my lovely wife for breakfast?" he asks, dressed in jeans and a red knitted sweater.

"French toast and eggs, please," you answer, feeding the baby in your lap a bottle. She has a little Santa hat on. "Can you grab me the burp cloth?"

"Got it." He turns to his daughter, who's watching cartoons on the TV. "Lovebug. Come here for a second."

She gallops over to him, and he swoops her up to set her on his hip. "Hi," she says.

"Hi, sweetheart," he says while fixing her loose socks. "Dad needs your breakfast order."

"Reindeer pancake!"

"And?"

"Juice!"

"And?"

She hums, thinking long and hard. "Cookie!"

"Uh-oh." Harry gasps, looking at her with wide eyes. "Haven't you heard? Santa ate all the cookies!"

Her face drops. "Why?"

"We left them out for him, remember?"

"But… but why?"

"Because that's the spirit of Christmas." He kisses her cheek and then sets her down. "Go organize the presents while I make breakfast, okay? No peeking. Behave."

Once the family has full bellies and excited smiles, it's time to open presents. Everyone has their respective piles stacked in front of their feet, some from under the tree, some from the four stockings hanging on the mantle. It's crazy to think there used to only be two there.

"Who's going first?" Harry asks with a steaming mug of tea in his hands. He sits beside you on the couch and carefully slides the portable bassinet closer. Her Christmas plans are getting milk drunk and sleeping all day.

"Me!" says your daughter, crawling into his lap.

"All right. Pick a good one, little lady."

She chooses a rectangular box from the top of her stack. "That's one you need to open with your dad," you tell her. "Harry, open yours that has the same wrapping paper."

He grabs an identical-looking present and helps tear open both boxes. After pulling out the tissue paper, he picks up a pair of white aprons, one big and one small, with ladybugs stitched to the fronts. You tried and failed to find ones that said lovebug, but you figured the sentiment would be appreciated.

"A ladybug!"

You take a candid picture of her with your phone. "I know, baby. You and Dad can match when you cook together."

Harry squeezes your shoulder and whispers, "Thank you."

It's your turn next, and you choose a gift from Harry. You open a small box that contains a gift card to a local spa establishment.

"You deserve a day without me or the kids," he says softly. "I'm forcing you to not be a mom for a day."

You look at him while holding the card to your chest. "Thank you so much."

"Word on the street is that they give better massages than I do."

"Well, they've got some tough competition."

Harry laughs and kisses your cheek, then picks out a gift you've been waiting for weeks to give him. He didn't ask for it, but you like to surprise him. He unwraps it with a giddy smile, eventually pulling out two picture frames crafted from an assortment of seashells.

"I made them using the shells she's brought you over the years," you explain. "I hope you don't mind."

Harry runs a hand over his mouth as his eyes dance over the two pictures. One of them is from when his baby girl was born a mere month ago — the two of you sat in the birthing tub with him staring at you with a breathtaking smile after she clung to him. The other picture is from the day his first daughter was born — him sitting in the hospital bed while holding her with his forehead resting against hers, his hands almost taking up her entire body.

"That's you, lovebug," he says to her while pointing at the picture. "Look at how tiny you were. You changed my life that day and made me the happiest person in the whole wide world."

"Me?" she asks curiously.

He taps her nose. "Mm-hmm. And look at you now. All grown up."

"Do I still make you the happiest in the whole wide world?"

"Every single day. We're each other's first smiles forever, right?"

She nods delightedly. "Yeah."

Harry hugs her tightly and then glances over at you, doing a double-take when you bring your knees to your chest and inhale deeply. "Are you gonna cry?" he teases with a smirk.

"No," you reply unconvincingly, clearing your throat and not-so-subtly wiping the corners of your eyes. "Okay, who's next!"

After a bunch more presents are unwrapped, toys and sparkly bows scattered on the carpet, there's only one box under the tree with no name.

Harry crawls over and grabs it. "This," he says theatrically while standing, "is for all of us. Let's have mommy do the honors."

The box is set in your lap, and Harry stands before you, bending forward to place his hands on your thighs.

"You're way too close to me right now," you tell him.

He glances up at you through his eyelashes. "I need to gauge your reaction."

You roll your eyes and begin tearing the tape on the box's seal. Once you open it, your heart skips a beat when you see four plane tickets sitting on a bed of sand.

"Surprise," he whispers.

Mouth agape, you take them out and flip them over to read the tags attached.

Your tag reads: For my wife. Italy the first time made us fall in love all over again. Let's do it a second time.

Your eldest daughter's tag reads: For my lovebug. I'll buy you all the raspberry gelato and ciabatta bread you want. I'll even throw a lasso around the Italian moon for you to keep.

Your newborn's tag reads: For my baby girl. I'll show you the sea that emulates your beauty. You'll show me how lucky I am to hold and love you.

In all your years of knowing him, you don't think he's ever done something more romantic than the scrawly ink attached to a gift from a memory so dear to him.

"We're seriously going back to Italy?"

He crouches and squeezes your thigh. "End of July."

Your daughter doesn't quite understand the significance of what's happening since she was small when the family last went, but she's smiling as she absentmindedly sifts her hands through the sand.

You lean forward and give Harry a hug. "You're so perfect. Thank you. I can't wait."

"You're welcome. Come with me for a second," he murmurs in your ear. He heads to the kitchen and quickly dumps the rest of his cold tea into the sink.

You follow him into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked. Harry flicks on the light and then stands in front of you. "You," he emphasizes while cradling your cheeks, "are the fuckin' love of my life."

You accept his fervent kisses and mumble against his mouth, "Did you like the seashells?"

"Are you kidding?" He kisses you once more. "I almost lost my composure out there."

"See? I'm not the only one who gets emotional."

"I love you so much," he says, soft and sincere. "This will be the best trip of our life."

You admire his bright eyes and dimpled smile. "I'm so glad you stayed home. You make it feel like Christmas."

❅ ❅ ❅

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #dilfrry #dadrry #harry styles #adore-laur #you make it feel like christmas

197 notes · View notes

kimbappykidding · 1 year

Text

How Seventeen act when they like you but your dating one of their members

Scoups - Makes sure your boyfriend treats you right

"Hey is that your phone again? It's been buzzing like crazy" Scoups called to Jeonghan. "Yeah it's y/n. We got in a fight so I'm just avoiding her for a bit to make her sweat" Jeonghan replied dismissively. Scoups frowned "what was the fight about?". "She was mad because I was late to her family dinner but I told her work might run over". "You told her in advance?" Scoups asked. "Well no but she knows how work is! I can't exactly drop everything just because she wants me to meet her parents". Scoups sighed and picked up Jeonghan's phone before throwing it to him. "Ow!" Jeonghan cried but Scoups didn't react "call her back or at least text her and tell her you need some space. Don't ignore her it's childish". "But I have nothing to say to her until she apologises". "Look I'm not going to tell you what to do in your relationship but y/n doesn't deserve this. You know she's been having a hard time lately and she's not a mind reader. You could've told her the dinner was on a bad day and rearranged or asked me to get you out early. You know I would’ve let you go for something important" Scoups told him. In response Jeonghan rolled his eyes "I thought I had immunity to your leader lectures?". "You usually do but not when you're treating a nice girl like y/n badly. If you need some time to cool off just tell her that so she stops worrying!". Jeonghan sighed but he unlocked his phone "if you think she's so great maybe you should date her" he muttered.

Luckily Jeonghan was focused on his phone so he didn't see Scoups reaction. How he froze caught off guard and his face filled with a sad wistful expression. "I would if I could" he said to himself and walked from the room.

Jeonghan - Hangs around you a lot even though it hurts him

You spotted Jeonghan across the room and gave him a huge smile that almost floored him. “You came!” you cried rushing to hug him and Jeonghan nodded “of course I did! Did you really think I’d miss your first art exhibition?”. You smiled at him bashfully “thank you...I was really nervous about Joshua not being able to come so you being here really helps. Knowing there’s atleast one person here that likes me and doesn’t think I’m a failure is comforting”. Jeonghan almost laughed at how ironic that was.

The second Joshua started dating you Jeonghan's heart sank. He knew of you through friends and was the first member Joshua introduced you to. Jeonghan had very strong opinions about you and knew a lot about you compared to the others. Everyone thought Jeonghan was so involved purely because he was so close to Joshua. They all thought it was the typical protective best friend making sure the girl was good enough but it wasn't totally like that. Sure Jeonghan used that excuse but mostly, he just liked seeing you. You were good company and could always make him smile even on the longest more tiresome day. He found you so beautiful to watch and he liked being around you. He told himself you were just good friends and he didn't feel anything more but the times when he felt longing seeing you wrapped up with Joshua or even worse the sharp jealous feeling he got seeing the two of you kiss...he knew couldn't deny it. So he just chose to ignore it and carried on being close to both of you. He'd never ever do anything to cause you or Joshua any upset, so he just ignored his feelings and loved you silently.

Thinking of all this Jeonghan smiled “ow come on it’s not just me, I’ve seen tons of people admiring your work and you’re insanely talented so don’t sell yourself short”. You smiled again “thank you...it’s actually been quite fun but I’ve just been nervous the entire time. My mouth keeps going dry but I don’t want to leave my post in case someone comes and wants to speak to me”. “Well why don’t I go and get you a drink?” Jeonghan asked. “Really? You’d do that for me?” you asked and Jeonghan nodded “I’d do a lot more y/n” and he meant it. He’d do pretty much anything for you.

Joshua - Super super super nice to you

When Seventeen heard Jun had a girlfriend they were all thrilled, a bit amazed but mainly happy. The8 finally convinced him to invite you to one of their parties and when you turned up Joshua was stunned. You were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen and he had to admit you and Jun looked amazing together but it didn’t just stop there. Joshua loved your personality and found your sense of humour similar to his own. The more he thought about you the more he realised you were his ideal type, you even spoke English for heaven’s sake! When Joshua found out you were from Scotland he thought he’d die right there from your accent and he soon invented reasons to spend time with you like helping you learn Chinese.

You were fluent in Korean, English and Japanese but of course wanted to learn Chinese so you could speak to your boyfriend in his home tongue and Joshua offered to go to the lessons with you. No matter how inconvenient or how hectic his schedule was he met you outside the building, stay for the two hours and then drive you home afterwards.

He’d just gotten home quite late from a study session with you in preparation for an upcoming test when Jeonghan caught him sneaking in. “A bit late isn’t it?” he called and Joshua smiled awkwardly "I was out with y/n". "Isn't that like the third time this week? Man are you dating her or Jun?" Jeonghan joked. "It's not like that..." Joshua started when Jeonghan smiled "I know it's not but...you do help her out a lot. Like when she was moving apartments and Jun was away in China. You dropped everything to help her, even cancelling that date with Iris you'd been after for so long. There's something there right? You like her". Joshua blushed "I...just want her to be happy okay? If that's with Jun then that's fine with me". Jeonghan nodded "you're nice enough that I believe you, just don't get in too deep yeah?". Joshua nodded "I won't” but he had a sinking feeling when he said it. He knew he was already way past that.

Jun - Can’t even be near you

Jun didn't realise he liked you for a ridiculous amount of time. He just knew whenever he walked into a room and you were there he had to leave it.

Especially if Hoshi was also in the room because if the two of you were acting cute or worse flirty then his body would malfunction. The first time he saw Hoshi kiss you he was stunned and had a vivid reaction to it. That kiss ruined his mood for days and he found he couldn't be around you without thinking of it. So he just avoided you, if you were invited over he'd be out. If there was no getting out of the occasion he'd leave the room if you entered or stay as far from you as possible. He didn't speak or even look at you if it could be helped. Not even when you sought him out, confused why the funniest member of Seventeen had never even uttered a word in your presence. Hoshi just shrugged and told you Jun was quite introverted so you let it drop and moved on.

You didn't think of Jun much after that but he thought of you, often. Like tonight, you were across the room from him by Hoshi’s side in a beautiful outfit that had taken Jun’s breath away. Scoups had told him he just had to stay an hour and his eyes kept going from you to the clock. He was only halfway through and he had no idea how he was going to cope. “Hey you okay?” The8 said appearing next to him. Jun nodded “yeah why?”. “Nothing just isn’t that like your 3rd drink?”. Jun shrugged “so it’s an open bar”. The8 nodded “okay just checking...I’m going to head over to Hoshi, Mingyu and y/n. You want to come with?”. Jun didn’t even hesitate “i’m good thanks” and finished his drink reaching for the fourth one. The8 nodded “okay well text if you need anything” and walked away.

Jun watched him join you and how you smiled and chatted to him. Hoshi hung an arm around your waist and Jun sighed heading for the door. He’d come up with some excuse for Scoups later but right now he just had to get out of there.

Hoshi - Always acts up more when you're around to show off

Like your boyfriend Wonwoo you were more reserved and didn't speak too much in group settings but that just made Hoshi even more curious about you. He was comfortable in social situations and so he did everything in his power to get you to pay attention to him. He'd yell, jump around and provoke his members but if he got even a smile from you he considered it all worth it.

That’s why Hoshi always suggested everyone play a game when you came over. It gave him the perfect opportunity to interact with you or even in exceptional circumstances like tonight be put on the same team as you. Hoshi was sat beside you and sure Wonwoo was on your other side but this was still his greatest dream. So he was louder, more charismatic and the most dramatic he’d been in a long time. Which the members caught onto.

"Does anyone else notice Hoshi is louder when we have company?" Seungkwan asked. Dino nodded "yeah, I think he likes the attention or something". Scoups shook his head, he knew exactly the reason why Hoshi acted the way he did but there was no way he was going to out his friend like that. "Hoshi just likes people" he shrugged and hoped the members wouldn't notice how his eyes were glued to you, even at this very moment but all you could see was Wonwoo. Hoshi liked a challenge but this might be one he couldn’t win.

Wonwoo - Listens to everything you say

"Eugh I have no idea what to get y/n for her birthday!" Dk cried and Wonwoo looked at your boyfriend quizzically. "Come on you must have some clue, what have you got so far?". "A card" Dk said and Wonwoo frowned "that's it?". Dk frowned “I made it myself...she's really hard to shop for okay! She never tells me what she wants so I’m really stuck". Wonwoo nodded "didn't she just move into a new apartment?". Dk nodded "yeah so?". "So...she probably doesn't have a lot of things yet, maybe you could get her something for her new home?". "Like what...a microwave?". "I was thinking something more sentimental, like a nice houseplant or a plaque she can hang somewhere, she's always talking about how she forgets things so maybe you could get her a chalkboard or something organisational". Dk nodded "yeah that's a good idea thanks Wonwoo".

Wonwoo nodded pleased when he saw Dk seemed to think that was the job done. "But you know you have to get her more than that don't you?" he asked. Dk sighed "like what!". Wonwoo resisted the urge to scold him and instead carried on "well some baked goods are always nice, what about that cupcake shop she likes so much?". Dk paused "what shop?”. "The one around the corner from her work? The one she always brings you a brownie from". "Ow yeah I could get her a cake from there, maybe chocolate".

Wonwoo paused recalling you didn't like chocolate cake "or maybe something fruity considering it’s summer". Dk nodded "yeah good idea! Also maybe some wine?". "Well y/n's doing that detox thing right so many not alcohol, what about flowers?". "Yeah! Now which one is her favourite again". "I'm not sure but she likes blue right? Why not some bluebells?". Dk smirked "Wonwoo you are a genius! I think you know my girlfriend better than me " and he rushed from the room. Wonwoo nodded feeling sad "yeah maybe I do".

Woozi - Makes a song about you

Like The8 you were very fashionable and always looked good so you were pretty much destined to be a muse for a song. Sure enough it was one of the first things Woozi thought about you and initially, he judged you on it.

He cast you off as a conceited idol only bothered about their image but the more he got to know you the more he realised he was wrong. You were also very kind, intelligent and funny. With each realisation Woozi got angrier and angrier because it became impossible for him to deny his feelings for you. When he couldn't take it any longer he just barricaded himself in his studio and poured his heart out into his music. It took him nearly 3 days of almost constant work but he ignored all his members' calls and worries and kept going. When it was done he felt like a weight had been lifted. He still cared about you but now he had a physical outlet for it. The members and company all loved his song and it was released on the next album. Every time Woozi performed it he thought of you and every time he sang those words it was you he was singing to.

Once an interview remarked on how beautiful and emotional the song was and asked where it came from. Everyone looked to Woozi who said it came from his own life experience. Some of the members laughed “but you haven’t even dated anyone!” Hoshi cried. Woozi shrugged “you don’t have to date someone to fall in love” and all the members woahed thinking it was another line but it wasn’t. Woozi meant every word.

Dk - Tries really hard to make you laugh

Dk would've been obsessed with you even if you didn't have one of the most specific senses of humour ever. You were very cool and had a punk vibe to you which Dk was immediately attracted to...but you were dating Woozi so of course he never intended to act on it. However when Woozi proudly announced you were very hard to make laugh and only he could do it, Dk took that as a personal challenge.

He began making it his mission to make you not just smile but laugh too. He tried everything, all his usual material, the seal joke, the being loud, the moving weirdly but nothing seemed to work. Then one day after he made a really corny dad joke you burst out laughing. Dk looked around stunned but nobody else was there. It was just the two of you but you were definitely laughing. You held your sides "that joke was so bad but it really got me". Dk grinned "you like that? Well there's more where it came from" and he launched into several similar jokes which provoked the same reaction. "Stop it you'll make me crack a rib" you smiled at him and Dk grinned "fine but now I know what material you like I'll be repeating this often" and he meant it.

Dk thought you looked beautiful when you laughed and he wanted to bring out that happiness in you whenever he could. So he vowed he would, he might not be able to date you but he could always make you smile and that was almost as good.

The8 - Makes sure your boyfriend looks good enough to be with you

The8 and you were friends before you started dating Mingyu and while that slightly bothered him he knew he truly had nobody to blame but himself. Mingyu had seen how great you were and done something about it while The8 was still busy overthinking the whole thing.

So The8 never got his chance with you but he still cared for you and showed it in numerous ways...like making sure Mingyu always looked good. It wasn’t a hard job by any means but you had a similar fashion sense to The8 and loved to take couple photos. You once confessed Mingyu didn’t dress up as much for said photos and that you wish he did. So The8 offered to help Mingyu with his wardrobe and took him on a shopping spree picking out lots of items he knew would look good on Mingyu AND that you’d like. He hyped Mingyu up and told him he should wear them on his next date. Mingyu was very flattered and agreed to buy the items very enthusiastically.

The8 supposed some might’ve thought him stupid for helping the boyfriend of the girl he’s interested in but he didn’t see it that way. He saw it as helping two people he cared for and so he was happy knowing the two of you were together. If he couldn’t date you he was just pleased someone like Mingyu could.

Mingyu - Cooks your favourite meal “by chance”

Mingyu was not the type to “steal” one of his friend’s partners. He knew given his looks a lot of the members thought he could easily do that to them but he wouldn’t and with you he doubted anyone could steal you away from Seungkwan. The two of you had been together for years and you were so in love with him it would’ve been nice to see...if Mingyu didn’t also have feelings for you.

So this was all to say he wasn’t cooking your favourite meal for any long-term goal. He just knew there was nothing better than a good home-cooked meal after you’d been on tour so he offered to help Seunkwan make it and of course the boy agreed. Mingyu did all the shopping, prepping, cooking and plating and then gave Seungkwan the credit. Mingyu didn’t really mind, he just wanted your first night back home to be good and hoped his cooking might contribute to that.

You showed up while Mingyu was still cleaning the kitchen so he saw your reaction when Seungkwan said what you were having for dinner. You got so excited and happy. You confessed you hadn’t been eating properly and couldn’t think of anything better. Mingyu smiled seeing how happily you tucked into the food and then excused himself so the two of you could be alone.

15 minutes later Mingyu heard a knock on his door and opened it to find you standing there. “Hey do you have a sec?” you asked and Mingyu nodded letting you inside, inwardly cursing himself for not tidying his already clean room. You smiled at him “so I just wanted to say...I love Seungkwan but I know he’s a terrible cook and so there’s no way he made dinner. You’re the only one who can cook this well here so I know it was you and I want to say thank you. I really appreciate you doing this for him”. “I didn’t do it for him” Mingyu said and then froze at your reaction. “I did it because you’re our friend y/n” he said quickly with a fake friendly smile and you immediately relaxed. “Thanks Mingyu that’s so sweet! I’m really glad we’re friends”. Mingyu nodded “yeah me too, now get back to him!”. You nodded and with one final smile disappeared back out of the door. Mingyu sighed wondering why he put himself through all this but he knew why. Seeing you happy made it all worth it, even if it wasn’t with him.

Seungkwan - Invites you to absolutely everything

Seungkwan hated himself for liking his best friend’s girlfriend but he couldn't seem to help it! Every time he was around you he fell deeper and deeper and even though he knew he should probably be avoiding you he found he couldn’t. So as he was getting ready for his parents’ anniversary party his thought were firmly on you and if he should’ve told Vernon he’d invited you. As if reading his thoughts Vernon paused “erm why did y/n just text me asking if there’s somehwere she can park her car?” Vernon asked. Seungkwan paused “ow didn’t I tell you? I invited y/n tonight”. Seungkwan held his breath waiting to see Vernon’s reaction but Vernon just shrugged “cool, I mean I figured it would just be your family and a few close friends but if your family are happy...”. Seungkwan nodded “yeah I mentioned it to them and they said it’s fine. I haven’t seen y/n in ages...and of course it’s been a few days for you too so I thought it’d be nice. “Didn’t you see her like 5 days ago?” Vernon asked. Seungkwan nodded “yeah but that was only for 2 hours cus she had to rush off to work”. Vernon smirked “I think you just like seeing my girlfriend” he joked and Seungkwan laughed loudly before quickly leaving the room.

He went outside for some air and of course saw you parking up. You got out, not spotting him and started struggling with the present in your hand. Seungkwan rushed over to help you, he caught it just as it fell out of your hand. You gasped before smiling “Seungkwan! Thank you so much, you just saved my life”. Seungkwan smiled “y/n you didn’t have to get my parents a present!” but you just shook your head. “Of course I did! I couldn’t just turn up empty-handed”. Seungkwan shook his head before noticing what you were wearing. You had a blue suit on and looked beautiful. Seungkwan struggled to speak but when he got it together he smiled “y/n you look amazing, is that a new suit?”. You looked down “this? No I’ve had it for years but never had a special occasion for it so figured I’d wear it today”. Seungkwan was just about to tell you it was a good choice when someone called his name.

He turned to see his sister and waved. She came over and began scolding him for missing the party when she noticed you. “Ow, hello” she said and you smiled back. “This is y/n” Seungkwan said and his sister nodded “ow y/n! Seungkwan’s told us a lot about you, he’s very fond of you”. You smiled “aww that’s so sweet i’m very fond of him too” and you lightly squeezed his arm. Seungkwan blushed but you didn’t notice because Vernon had appeared. He waved to you and you waved back “sorry please excuse me, I can see my boyfriend” and you rushed away into Vernon’s arms. Seungkwan watched with a sad expression on his face and his sister sighed “so that’s the girl you’ve been in love with for years huh?”. Seungkwan was going to argue with her but then he decided not to. “Yeah” he nodded “I know i’m pathetic”. His sister shook her head “not at all! I know it hurts now but we can’t choose who we fall in love with so there’s no point beating yourself up about that...but the good news is she won’t be your only love. You’ll fall in love again and someday this will just be a distant memory”. Seungkwan nodded “I hope so”. “I know so” his sister smiled linking their arms “now let’s go enjoy this wonderful night for our parents” and they walked inside together.

Vernon - Acts very awkward around you and stumbles over his words

Vernon never really got crushes. He just wasn’t the type of person to fall in love easily and it almost never happened based on sight but with you it did. Dino came home with you one day from dinner and Vernon felt this immediate attraction to you. It was so unexpected Vernon didn’t know what to do with the emotion and so he was awkward around you every time. You’d been dating Dino for over a year by this point but still Vernon blushed if you made eye contact with him and felt like his legs were turning to jelly. So when you accidentally mistook him for Dino he almost lost his mind.

It was Halloween and the whole group had gone to Scoups’ for a costume party. Vernon was having a good time watching all his members get drunk when he felt some arms around his waist. He naturally tensed at the action but he got even more rigid when he heard your voice. "I've been looking everywhere for you! How about we sneak away and..." you whispered in his ear when you finally saw his face. "Vernon!" you cried moving your hands from his body. "I'm so sorry I thought you were Dino, are you wearing the same costume?". "Erm no he's Luigi and I'm Mario...I mean I'm Mario and he’s Luigi. They're different...". You nodded "ow right, well I'm so sorry for grabbing you! I promise I had no idea, you know I’d never presume to touch someone like that”. Vernon “of course I know you’d never grab someone...don’t worry i’m not offended and not just because I know you, I can’t imagine anyone would ever be angry with you. Or if they were as soon as you spoke to them they’d get it and forgive you so erm don’t worry” he said wincing. You laughed “thanks Vernon! You having a good time?”. He nodded “yep” feeling really warm all of a sudden “nice outfit” he said noticing you were dressed as Captain Marvel. You grinned “thanks! I don’t watch every Marvel film and I know you’re a big fan so that’s probably sacrilege but I watched Captain Marvel and loved it so Dino suggest I come as her”. Vernon nodded along “that was a good idea it suits you...I mean you look like her, well not really because she’s white and blonde but you don’t look weird in the outfit or anything”. You laughed “that’s exactly what I was going for, not weird” you joked and Vernon laughed along awkwardly.

“Hey y/n” someone called you and turned to see Dino waving at you across the room. “There he is! I’m gonna go see where he’s been for the last half hour, you wanna come?”. Vernon shook his head “no I’m yes thanks. I mean i’m okay....good. Thank you”. You smiled “no worries, see you later” and walked away. Vernon let out a big breath once you’d left, feeling as if he’d just run a marathon or something. He loved talking to you but found it terrifying every time.

Dino - Challenges your boyfriend all the time

Dino isn’t naturally a mean person but sometimes his ego gets the better of him and he couldn’t resist dragging your boyfriend Scoups a little. It’d be about anything really, when he gets the choreo before him, when Scoups had a big birthday coming up or when he was beating him in a game...

Dino finally hopped out of his hiding spot and shot Scoups’ avatar killing his final life. Dino’s team all cheered and he was the loudest one out of all of them. “What do you think of that hyung?” he called “told you I was going to beat you didn’t I? Well look at it now!”. The others all laughed as Dino continued to strut around and celebrated his victory.

Later on Scoups approached Dino when he left the room to get a drink “hey Dino can we talk for a second?”. Dino was slightly unsure but then he remembered you and his cockiness returned “erm sure but only if it’s really quick”. Scoups nodded “don’t worry it will be. Have I done something to offend you?”. Dino frowned “what makes you say that?”. “I don’t know I just feel this weird tension between us lately...I might be reading too much into things but I just wanted to mention it so I can apologise if I have upset you in any way”. Dino immediately felt guilty for laying into Scoups so much and he shook his head “no you haven’t. I’ve just been a little down lately and I think I’ve been taking it out on you so it’s me who should be sorry”. Scoups frowned “why what’s going on?”. Dino sighed “I just...all of you have such good partners and I don’t sometimes it makes me feel a bit jealous. I want that, I see you and y/n together and how perfect you are for one another and I...just get weird. I’m sorry...” he started but Scoups shook his head “it’s okay, I know it can be lonely sometimes but don’t worry you could find someone like that and even if you don’t you’re a great guy with so many friends and people who love you. You don’t need anyone to complete you or cement your success in life. You’re that person. Okay?”. Dino suddenly remembered all the adoration and love he felt for his hyung and nodded “yeah I understand, thanks Scoups that's just what I needed”. Scoups smiled “anytime, now let’s go back inside. I left Jeonghan alone so he’s probably manipulated everyone into choosing him as the winner and they walked back in together.

479 notes · View notes

bunnakit · 4 months

Text

last twilight ep 7 thoughts, feelings, etc

ALRIGHT i ran my errands, caught up on pit babe and playboyy to relax, and now i'm doing my speedwatch. i took some notes while watching the first time and they're a fucking MESS but hopefully they help me remember everything i want to comment on because without fail i always forget something.

you'll all be glad to know this week's meta bullshit from me is far, far less romantic and wistful than last weeks. you've all been spared by my adhd brain not being able to piece together a single poetic thought.

i kind of knew from this moment the trajectory the episode would take. Day is clearly nervous but not defensive - this isn't out of the realm of something Mhok would do for him but with recent context it probably feels fairly intimate. i think this was a really good indicator of what we're in for.

there's a collection of sunflowers in Day's room, tucked away in the corner, not unlike Mhok tucking away his feelings for Day's comfort. the poor things are shrouded in shadow, away from the light. the pain is unending and forever.

Day's flashback to the kiss has me curious. his eyes are closed so he's not even thinking back to seeing what he can of Mhok up close. as he reminisces about this kiss is he simply remembering the sensation of Mhok's lips on his own? how his hands curled into Mhok's jacket? and i'm sure we've all seen the post but - was he thinking of the way Mhok tasted like cigarettes? this isn't to romanticize his disability, i'm just genuinely wondering what exactly he's drawing on here in this moment, because it's clearly something significant to him.

Porjai just keeps getting prettier every episode and it's making me insane. i just think i should be allowed to take care of her.

"I'm jealous of Day's ability to make you smile."

this makes me think Mhok's smiles have been few and far between, and maybe Porjai has been looking to bring out that smile for a long time. does she ever worry that maybe someday Mhok could end up like Rung? does she worry about finding him too?

oh i so very badly want the context for this, i want to know everything. but also, it's really not that surprising. not when we've seen the things Mhok has done for Day. Mhok lives his life in extremes; anger, kindness, protectiveness, his work, etc. everything Mhok does he puts his whole self into it and it's nice to see his love is no different, because why would it be?

i'm once again in awe of what P'Aof has done with Mhok and Porjai, though. they live together so easily and naturally. there's nothing strange or awkward about it, just two people surviving life together. it's such a breath of fresh air.

Day just cannot catch a break when it comes to August. this has to hurt so fucking badly, the pity has to feel amplified by 1000. not only was August trying to force himself to like Day back because he's blind, but also because he was thinking of leaving. Day is a stronger man than me because i would be frothing at the mouth pissed.

but once again, Mhok doesn't let Day stew in his fish tank. he encourages him to go out and resolve his feelings, even if that means screaming at August and letting out all his hurt and frustration. he's seen what happens when Day lets his hurt fester and he won't let it happen again, not while he's around.

"He's a lot stronger than I thought. It's me who's so weak that I let him down."

as much as August pisses me off, i do think this is him realizing his pity was misplaced, and he failed Day in that way, so he gets some redemption points here. (still think he's a stinky bastard man tho)

the immediate distance Mhok puts between himself and the group never fails to hurt my heart. i get it, he's there for a job, but their relationship has progressed past that - now even moreso, and i cant help but wonder if this is his attempt at keeping a distance, curbing his expectations, reminding himself that while his role is to be by Day's side it's only in a professional capacity.

i love that Gee acknowledges him with a little head nod, occasionally looks in Mhok's direction as if to include him, she's just - ugh - i love all the women in this show so fucking much. i just wish someone would invite Mhok over sometime, encourage him to join the conversation (like they did back at the party.)

sometimes Mhok really is the embodiment of a shadow - both of Day and of his former self (for good or bad.)

(he looks so fucking sexy leaning like that with his shirt tucked into his pants tho, whew.)

Gee also becomes one of my favorite people for asking Day to take the photo of all of them. she just gets it, she includes him, she doesn't act like he can't do things, she even insists he can, she's just !!! the women of all time in this show i swear!!! I LOVE WOMEN!!!!

also the "you don't drink coffee, girl spill the tea" from Gee is just so good. she knows a diversion tactic when she sees one.

i want this expression framed, she's so cute, HELP.

i wish i had the time and energy today to make gifs for this week but ugh. the journey Mhok's face went on here to end up at quiet resignation. because he did figure. someone like Day? with someone like him? because we know Mhok's opinion of himself isn't great, largely influenced by his incarceration and reintegration into society, i'm sure, along with his guilt. but there had been that little bud of hope, a little sunflower seed that had bloomed just a little too far, reached for the sun a little too much. it must feel like a weed in his chest.

the way Day says 'here' so softly, with so much vulnerability made me feel like screaming. he doesn't know what his feelings are for Mhok yet (you can't tell me he doesn't feel anything) but he knows he doesn't want to lose Mhok and the sudden idea of it is terrifying. Mhok is the only person that really understands him, one of the only people he's comfortable around anymore, and he can't lose that. he doesn't want to go back to the dirty fish tank.

i also think this was an indicator to Mhok that maybe Day doesn't know how he feels, and maybe he can get away with flirting in tiny, subtle ways because from here on his secret flirting game is in full effect and it's so fucking cute. he's careful not to completely push past Day boundaries, but to test them in gentle ways.

THE SHOES MY BELOVEDS. we all know what i feel about these shoes after last week and i'm so glad to see all of my stupid babbling confirmed here. i love that Mhok constantly mends things instead of throwing them away. the sentimentality of items means something to Mhok and we love him for that.

we also got a proper 'sweet dreams' this episode, finally!! thank you subbers!

so many shots of feet this ep tho and lemme tell you as someone that HATES feet, this was rough.

oh you are so smitten. Day realizing Mhok is warm, warm in his own way, warm in such a gentle and understated way. UGH. you would've thought he knew after everything they've been through but sometimes people need a reminder and maybe something to drive them to pay closer attention. our boy is BESOTTED. kicking his feet and giggling. i think this is the happiest we've ever seen him.

so here's where i'm probably going to wax poetic the most. Mhok is finally opening up to Day in such an incredible way. he brings Day to his home with no fear of pity or judgement. he brings him into this sanctuary created by him, his sister, and Porjai and he cooks for him and cares for him and in letting him in Day sees even more how impossibly warm Mhok is.

what's even greater is there isn't a single moment where Day is jealous or questions Porjai being there. Mhok has told him she's expecting and he's never weird about it, just kind and understanding and it's all so normalized, it's fucking beautiful. Day even takes the time to encourage Porjai, to share about his mom, and about the strength it takes to be a single mom. P'Aof i adore you.

Mhok has planted jasmine simply because he knows Day likes it, and maybe now he likes it too. and he brings Last Twilight home to practice reading (i'd always wondered how he managed to read without stumbling over himself lmao) and he's done it so much that now Porjai wants to name their child Mee, wants to create this connection to Day forever.

and once prompted, once Day knows enough to ask, Mhok opens up about Rung, talks about her more. Day comments on the warmth of the house, something started by Rung and cultivated by Mhok. it would be so easy for the house to feel cold and clinical, especially knowing what happened here, but Mhok has kept it a home - warm, inviting, comforting - all the things Mhok has been to Day.

the noises took me by fuckin' surprise tho, i genuinely looked around my house like who the fuck is making all that noise and then i was like OH THOSE ARE-- OKAY--

and I know people are like haha P'Aof has a scent kink but like. idk. maybe it's just me but scents are something i'm drawn to. i remember the way someone smelled more than i remember their face. i recently took a shirt out of my closet and immediately started crying. it smelled like face powder and perfume. it smelled like my grandma. the leather jacket pushed to the side smells like cigarettes and horses, like my dad always did.

scent is such an ingrained memory, something that is so hard for our brains to let go of. every time i get a familiar smell it knocks me on my ass, and i'm so glad to see some of this represented in these shows.

this absolutely warmed my heart. whatever is going on with Night and Day is clearly more on Day's side than anything else. Night clearly loves his brother and i'm just fucking DYING to know what is going on that is causing Day to drive a wedge between them. sure, Night hasn't been perfect, but there's love there and that counts for so much.

and what exactly are you doing here??? this is a charity run for blindness - does he know someone that is blind other than Day? did meeting Day inspire him to participate? has he spent time talking to Mhok about Day and maybe the difficulties of his blindness? i am filled with questions but i love this character so much, he's just so kind.

Day's hesitation to cross the finish line was also something i found so interesting. it felt long, possibly too drawn out, but Day needed to think, needed time to understand that if he crosses that finish line, if he accepts Mhok's request to be his boyfriend, their lives will never go back to how they were. things between them will change forever, whether the relationship is a success or otherwise. it's an incredibly mature thing of Day to do, even if it felt a little lengthy for us, the audience.

i strongly believe that in addition to Mhok Porjai is going to be a big driving force in Night and Day's reconciliation. i would love to see Porjai gain Night's side of the story, Mhok gain Day's side of the story, and the two of them working together to see how they can reunite these brothers.

also if i had a nickle for every time P'Aof paired Mark with a pregnant woman in his shows i'd have two nickles, which isn't a lot but it's interesting it has happened twice.

while i, like everyone else, hope the mock proposal is a parallel we get to see later i want to focus more on this moment.

i forget who said it, it's long gone to the depths of my dash by now, but someone commented that disabilities do not stop for love, and fuck is that so true. i love Mhok's concern, his immediate reaction to soothe, and the way he seems to feel Day's fear as his own. and poor Day, he can't even enjoy this moment of bliss with Mhok because of course, of course something like this had to happen. it's so fucking real in the way Last Twilight has been this entire time.

the constant excellent representation of disabled living has been incredible to see, i've seen so much of myself in this show (even though my disability is so very different) and it's been like a warm blanket put over very single comment: you're too young to be disabled, you aren't THAT disabled, you're being dramatic, etc.

from the bottom of my heart, thank you P'Aof and team.

tag loves: @benkaaoi @callipigio @infinitelyprecious (as always tell me if you want to be added {for LT only or all meta} or removed!)

#bunn meta #last twilight #last twilight the series #mhokday #morkday #userjamiec #im soooo fuckin sleepy after making this but i still have to work #someone come make me tea and gimme a little kith

123 notes · View notes

thefreakandthehair · 6 months

Text

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 22nd: First concert | Triumph of King Freak - Rob Zombie | Eager a/n: a missing scene from an older fic, counting stars (when I look in your eyes)! post-canon fix, eddie pov, established steddie, fluff with a dash of angst, mention of eddie's late mother read on ao3 + ao3 masterpost | tumblr masterlist

December, 1988

“Why does your acoustic have that written on it? ‘This Machine Slays Dragons’?” Steve asks as he watches Eddie strum without looking at his hands. It’s a bit mesmerizing, the way his fingers glide along the strings of their own accord.

The song stops and Eddie slaps the body of the guitar in his lap.

“This old girl is an homage to one Woody ‘This Machine Kills Fascists’ Guthrie. Ever heard of him?”

“He did ‘This Land Is Your Land,’ right?”

Eddie claps his hands together and points two finger guns his way. “Ding ding ding, we have a winner. Yeah, he wrote that and a shit ton of other political critique folk music.”

“I didn’t know you liked that sort of thing. Sounds pretty far removed from Metallica, y’know?”

“Only in delivery. You’d be surprised how much overlap there is in meaning. But yeah, my uh—” Eddie stops and pulls the guitar closer to his torso and swallows the dust in his mouth that’s gathered from years of not talking about his mother. “My mom was a big fan of it. She loved Guthrie, Baez, Dylan, Grateful Dead, Cohen. You name it, she loved it.”

Steve’s heart tries to claw its way out of his body to run towards Eddie sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, timid smile, and fidgeting hands.

“That’s really cool, man. She sounds awesome. How come you don’t talk about her more?”

“It just—I don’t know. It still hurts, I guess. Which is stupid, I was eight when she died so it should get easier, right?” Eddie laughs humorlessly and stares at his strings like they hold answers to questions he didn’t know he had. He wants to crawl on top of Steve, desperate for warmth and comfort now, and looking at him makes the urge damn near impossible to beat back. So he doesn’t look up.

Steve adjusts his position on the bed, subconsciously making room. “Hell no, that’s not how grief works, Ed. Wish it was that easy but I’ve seen a lot of death personally and with work, and it changes people. You can tell me to fuck off if I’m like, overstepping here but you were a kid. You’re allowed to be sad about her death, and you’re allowed to talk about it.”

Eddie pauses for a long moment, considering the validation and how much he trusts Steve. He trusts him with his life, his soul, his heart, his everything. Maybe everything could include his past, too. His voice is wistful when he starts.

“She used to sing Dylan’s ‘Forever Young’ around the house.”

December, 1974

Eddie sits cross-legged on the floor, threadbare couch behind him as he flips through a comic book gifted to him by his Uncle Wayne. The page crinkle with each turn and he traces the illustrations of each villain and superhero, the words a bit lost on him but the pictures jumping off of the page. Varying shades of saturated reds and blues disappear and reappear beneath his pointer finger and grins. He hasn’t read the story yet– he prefers to make up his own first– but he can see that the good guy is about to win.

Happy endings are just so rare in real life.

His mom is in the kitchen, singing softly and stirring something on the stove in a corroded aluminum pot. Eddie picks up the delicate scents of tomatoes and peppers, maybe some kind of meat. She’s been in a bright mood today, singing as she cooks, singing as she did her best to clean up the beer cans and bottles that litter the living room. Eddie even heard her singing in the shower that morning.

It’s not lost on him that his dad’s been gone for a few days. Hell, that’s the only reason he’s able to sit in the living room: there’s room for him.

His dad is always too loud, drowning out the soft soprano of his mother’s voice. Everything she sings sounds like a lullaby, so it’s fitting that Eddie closes his eyes to listen.

Eddie loves when his mom sings, especially the song she’s singing now.

May you always be courageous

Stand upright and be strong

May you stay forever young

She never tells him, but he feels like she sings it just for him.

November 1990

Steve hasn’t been this nervous to give Eddie a Christmas gift since that first Christmas of theirs two years ago. Funny enough, the gift then had been related to his late mother, too. Maybe he has a pattern. The envelope shakes in his hands as he sits next to Eddie on the couch– their couch, actually. At least as of a few months ago when they’d put down their down payment on the small, one-bedroom apartment in the heart of Indianapolis.

Eddie glances over and sees Steve’s right hand nearly crumpling whatever his gift is, his fingertips white and his smile tight. Whatever it is must be time sensitive, since he’s insisted on giving it to Eddie so early.

“What is it, Steve? You look like you’re gonna shit yourself.”

Steve laughs, nervous and breathy. “I actually might, and we just bought this couch, so. Just– here. Open it.”

He pries the envelope from Steve’s hand and tears it open, Steve having to caution him against ripping it in half and voiding the fucking the gift. Three rectangles fall out onto his lap, full of typewriter style font.

“Oh shit, concert tickets!” Eddie smiles and knocks his knee against Steve’s. “Why were you so nervous? This is awesome!”

Steve nods at the tickets. “Did you see who it is?”

Eddie’d been too excited about finally getting to a proper concert, one that he doesn’t have to set up and break down with Gareth, Jeff, and Frank. When he looks down and actually reads the headliner, his heart stops.

University of Dayton Arena Presents: BOB DYLAN TUESDAY, NOV 13 1990 7:30 PM

“Steve… is this…?” He can’t find the words, buried and lodged behind the lump forming in his throat.

Steve watches him carefully as he traces the letters with one finger, a habit he’s picked up on over the years, and gently rests a hand on his thigh and gives it a squeeze. “You okay?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m definitely okay.”

Okay is an understatement. He’s bewildered, he’s humbled, he’s ecstatic. When Eddie tears himself away from the small rectangles that sit on his lap like the gold bars they are, he looks at Steve with wonderment. First, the music box. Now, this. How is he ever going to keep up?

“I know it’s your first concert but I saw that he was coming around and I just figured it’d be cool, y’know? I don’t know who he’s touring with or anything–”

He does this, Steve knows. He knows that he rambles when he’s nervous or when he’s put himself out there and for some reason, giving Eddie these tickets feels incredibly vulnerable. Even years later, even after Eddie’s constant reassurance that he could never, Steve would hate for Eddie to think that he’s encroaching on special memories.

Before he can finish his stream of thought, Eddie kisses him. Just leans over, tickets still in his lap, and claps both hands on either side of his cheeks as Eddie plants one on him. Then again. And again. And again.

Eddie peppers every inch of Steve’s face with kisses, interjecting in between each one.

“You’re–” Kiss to the nose.

“So fucking–” Kiss to the cheek.

“Perfect–” Kiss to the forehead.

When he finishes, Eddie rests his forehead against Steve’s and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, feeling them shake beneath him as Steve laughs. “Always so dramatic.”

“And you love it. But, wait,” Eddie pulls back and picks the tickets back up. “Why are there three?”

“Do you honestly think Wayne would ever speak to me again if I got tickets for Bob Dylan and didn’t include him? C’mon, man. Christmas would be so fucking awkward.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie month #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #eddie month prompts

143 notes · View notes

wannab-urs · 7 months

Text

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 23

Howdy y'all!

If you're new here this is every new (to me) fic I read this week and some of my silly lil thoughts about them.

I did some catching up on series this week and also did some writing so I've only got 12 fics for you this week! I read a lot of dark shit this week, but that's October for ya. There's still some sweetness in here somewhere if you aren't into dark stuff and I've made sure to mark everything appropriately (I think).

As always you can find all my previous fic recs here.

Recs below the Pedros!

Apple - a Frankie/Santi/Will one shot by @romana-after-dark

You are married to Santi and you have a CNC kink he very happily obliges. You set up a thing where Santi, Will, and Frankie pretend to be home invaders and they gangbang you. Stuff goes a lil sideways and it ends up being NC/DC. This was wonderfully unsettling. I love how there's this strand of believability that they don't intentionally overstep her boundaries. It's dark and scary and feels very real.

sam and diane, eat your heart out a Marcus Pike one shot by @chronically-ghosted

You've been working with Marcus for a while and finally wrapped up the case you were on. You've almost given up ever getting what you want with him when finally!! You both admit your feelings for each other. Cue steamy office make out sesh with thigh riding. I loved the will they won't they shit in the beginning. The frustration makes the pay off so good.

i am touchin', i am grabbin', everything I can't be havin' - a Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

You show up at the doorstep of your long time but estranged family friend Dieter Bravo, soaking wet and with nowhere else to go. You've known him so long you call him Uncle Dee, no I'm not kidding. I almost didn't click on this bc like UNCLE?? But he's not really your uncle and I cannot express enough how fucking hot this was. Like Dieter is just so fucking good this OH MY GOD. If you love Dieter, read this. You'll love it.

Recovery Road - a Dieter series by @chronically-ghosted

Dieter finally gets his shit together, he's clean and married and working on a new project. His costar (you) is a cunt fr. You're on drugs, you're a brat, and you're a mess. And Dieter can't stay away from you. When his wife gets fed up with him and humiliates him in public, you're there to catch him... and ruin his sobriety, his marriage, and maybe everything else. I have a couple chapters left of this but OH MY GOD. I was so MAD at Dieter, but also so sad for him. Don't take that as me saying I didn't love this because I did. I do. It's so beautifully written. The pain and angst and desperation and everything is so powerful, this hurts to read. And the smut? Mind altering actually.

a revolting development - a Joel series by @chloeangelic

Your new step dad is really hot... and that's gonna be a problem. I've been reading so many step dad fics lately (not just Joel!) and I'm so into it and what is wrong with me?

The Rogue Who Coaxed You - a Joel series by @atticrissfinch

You're Joel's secretary and you suck him off while he fields a phone call from his wife! We love an infidelity fic round these parts, we really do. Reader is filthy, Joel is mean, there's a lot of degradation, the works. I'm so obsessed with this dynamic I can't wait to read more.

When the Gallow-Grass Gives - a Silva one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Silva rescues you (m!reader) from the gallows, walks you home by the rope you were supposed to hang by, and then tells you that you remind him of someone he used to know. I love a good gay cowboy fic and this is a GREAT one. The historically accurate lube made me cackle. This was so well written and so HOT and managed to maintain that wistful sadness Silva seems to have hanging like a cloud around him.

Desires and Complications - a Marcus Pike/Dave York series by @ezrasbirdie

Sweet little Marcus Pike wants to please you better in bed so he calls up your ex, Dave York, to show him how to be a dom. It goes a little differently than any of you imagined when Marcus turns submissive for Dave. This fic is so hot. I read up through "plead" and it looks like maybe there's some throuple dynamics forming!!! I'm so excited to finish this AHHHGHGHG

Ripping Sunrise - a frankie one shot by @idolatrybarbie

You accidentally take an edible and Frankie takes care of your high ass. And then once the high wears off he really takes care of you... This is so sweet and hot, I love it so much.

I Might Kill My Ex - a Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

Joel leaves you for Tess and that... well that's just unacceptable. We got dark!reader, asshole!Joel, murder, dub con for Joel, the works. This fic is so good. It's dark and gives you a fascinating look into reader's crumbling psyche. I love the ending so much also

------------------

I wrote Ouroboros and Eat You Whole. Dave York x f!reader fics set in the same universe, canon divergent but some canon stuff still happens in the background. Love as consumption/Love as violence type thing. Basically you and Dave are two touch starved, miserable people with nothing left in this world and you have crazy sex about it. There’s some softness in there too.

-----------------

Here's some series I've been reading (not a comprehensive list): Hot and Heavy (Joel), Muddy Waters (Joel/Ez), Stepdad!Joel, Exile (Javi P), New York or Nowhere (Joel), Feral Woman (Joel), Yearling (Joel), a lover's pinch (joel), the world tipped on it's side (Frankie), and Pretend Alleyways (Marcus/Dieter)

(In order: @tieronecrush @bonezone44 @toxicanonymity @jksprincess10 @beskarandblasters @gasolinerainbowpuddles @justagalwhowrites @hier--soir @idolatrybarbie @radiowallet)

-------------

Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu

70 notes · View notes

smytherines · 2 months

Text

Overly long staircase scene acting analysis because I'm autistic

Watched the staircase scene again, because this is my life now. But I just cannot get over how incredible Joey Richter is in this scene. Every beat is absolutely heartbreaking. The anger and hurt in his voice as he yells "I'm going to single-handedly dismantle everything you've ever believed in," the way his voice breaks.

During the reprise he does a stunning job of "guy trying to be cold and intimidating but is actually incredibly sad and unbelievably angry." The way Owen says "a world without agencies, a world without spies, a world without secrets" with so much quiet contempt for the thing that ruined his life.

Maybe the best piece of acting in the entire show is when Curt steps up into Owen's gun and says "the feelings we had for each other." And Owen looks pained, he looks wistful for a second. His gun lowers to Curt's heart and his hand repositions like he's really struggling with what he believes he has to do. The thing he's been wanting to do for four years. But he just can't manage to pull the trigger, despite having ample opportunity to do so.

When Curt finally shoots his gun out of his hand and aims the gun at his head, the way Joey Richter plays Owen just feels incredibly sad. To me it reads as Owen, not being able to kill Curt, thinking Curt wouldn't be able to kill him either, and realizing too late that he was wrong about that. There's a kind of incredulous disappointment in his voice as he says "so what are you doing?"

I know I get ridiculous with my Owen Carvour headcanon, but this one scene just gives SO much insight into his character and motivations, without outright telling you pretty much anything. That's partially clever writing, but its also just Joey Richter absolutely killing this role, making Owen feel like a real person with real anguish and doubt and anger. Its spectacular.

And it's wild because Curt Mega is also really fucking good in this scene, but kind of in different ways? His delivery doesn't subvert what we know about Agent Mega, it reinforces it. Curt has been grieving for four years. He fell apart after Owen's "death," his alcohol use turning into a full-on disorder, making him incapable of doing the one thing he loves, the thing he feels he does best. And actor Curt Mega does an incredible job at conveying all of that without even saying a word. Curt's stance, the way he braces against the staircase just kind of numb with the realization that Owen is alive, the anger and resentment that he mourned Owen for so long only for him to be out there doing evil schemes. It's all played perfectly.

As an Owen Carvour defender I have issues with what agent Mega does here that are mostly subtextual, so I'm gonna stick to the acting choices within the actual text of the show:

The thing that stands out the most about Joey Richter's performance to me is the little vocal breaks and how raw the line deliveries are, but what stands out to me about Curt Mega's performance is his body language and facial expressions, which are just pitch perfect from start to finish.

Our guy is speedrunning the five stages of grief on that staircase.

First is denial and anger, kinda wrapped up in one package- denying that Owen has the upper hand, there's something about the stance here that feels like he's planting himself with a false confidence, like he doesn't want Owen to know how scared and overwhelmed and sad he is about this. How angry he is that his life fell apart mourning someone who isn't even dead.

Then bargaining- when Curt is pleading with Owen, telling him that he's sure the agencies can pull some strings and get him pardoned if he agrees to give up Chimera. It's hard to describe the expressions & body language in a way that doesn't sound kinda weird, but there's a flash on Curt's face that reads to me like "if you give up Chimera maybe there's a chance for us," which is of course cut off by Owen's anger. There's a desperation, and even a little hint of optimism- it isn't too late to fix this.

Then depression- the expressions here are just heartbreaking, as Owen pontificates Curt is just slowly unraveling, leaning back into the staircase his face just crumbles. Like every word Owen says is physically hurting him. Like he's realizing slowly that there is no going back, that the time they shared & the feelings they had aren't going to be enough. Actor Curt Mega makes so many interesting acting choices here that say so much more than you could say through dialogue alone. The way Curt steps into the gun very much feels like he is accepting that baring his heart to Owen could get him killed, and that it's worth the risk to try (damn, just gave myself more empathy for agent mega here)

And then- acceptance. After Curt has his big moment of vulnerability, appealing to Owen's memories of their time together, and Owen rejects him by telling him to move on, Curt accepts that he has to kill Owen. It reads to me like he isn't doing it to save the world (or at least not exclusively for that) he's doing it to save himself. To remove the spectre of Owen that has been haunting him for the last four years. That as long as Owen is alive he will be haunting Curt.

(As an Owen Carvour defender I have to point out that Owen is *disarmed* at this point, so I personally have a whole big rant I could make but this shit is too long already)

Again it's weird to describe someone's facial expressions and body language, but all of the emotions you can infer from this scene are down to just great acting. Two really good actors doing a well-written scene spectacularly. As good as the rest of the show is- and its very good- this scene is why there's still an active fanbase for a comedy spy parody musical, still making art and writing fanfiction and doing edits and memes about the relationship between Owen Carvour and Agent Curt Mega nearly eight years later.

#spies are forever #tin can bros #agent curt mega #owen carvour #curtwen #joey richter #curt mega #staircase scene #SAFtistic

32 notes · View notes

anonymityisfunwriter · 6 months

Text

Afterglow

"Just wanna lift you up and not let you go, this ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight..."

Part of Inspired by Taylor Swift Series 'You're Losing Me' Chapter List

"I just can't believe they're going to be married in two days," you wistfully sigh, tossing your jacket onto the couch.

There was nothing quite like a wedding rehearsal dinner to put you in a particularly wistful, romantic mood. It also didn’t hurt that you and Bucky had fallen back together so perfectly over the last few months. It all seemed to fall into place. "They're perfect for each other."

"They seem really happy," Bucky agrees, smiling at the lightness in your face.

You warmly smile back at him, "Yeah, they do."

"It was a beautiful night," Bucky continues. He ambles into the living room, following in your footsteps. “Makes you wonder, you know?”

Bucky’s not quite sure that you heard him. You’re sort of lost in your own bubble of romanticism. He hasn’t seen this side of you in quite some time, so he’s content to just watch you twirl around the room. He smiles at the way your dress swishes around you. He’s not quite sure if the flush on your cheeks is the alcohol in your system or just the thrill of the night.

There's something about this night. Something that he can't quite put his finger on. He just doesn't want to end. It's like he wants to stay in these twenty seconds or live out the next twenty years with you in this very moment. He'll take either. Twenty seconds or twenty years. He doesn't just want this night, he wants them all.

His heart flutters, he can't remember the last time that happened. He walks over to his bookshelf, the that you almost burned down on one of your first dates together. He drops the needle and plays one of his records.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sound of music suddenly filling the room, gasping when Bucky’s arms suddenly wraps around your waist, "What are you doing?"

"I just wanted to dance with you. Is that okay?"

You chortle at him, looking up at him. It's in that moment that Bucky sees it. It's back, that glimmer of hope, of love. It's back. You nod, resting your head on his chest, "I always want to dance with you."

His heart flutters again. He keens at the feeling of you back in his arms. It’s been six months of you back in his arms, but he never lets himself forget how lucky he is. In that moment, he knows he'll truly never get enough of you. "I really liked what Vision said, you know? About letting life surprise you with what it gives you."

"He is oddly poignant," you agree.

"Made me think of us."

You lift your head off his chest, looking up at him with a quirked eyebrow, "Really?"

"He said something like that when we were..." he trails off. It wasn't one of his finest moments in life, and he tried not to relive it as much as possible. To this day, he couldn't believe he almost burned down everything you had out of his own fear. It almost makes him feel sick thinking about the night he asked you to stay, to give him one more chance. He very well knows that it could’ve gone either way. "Well, you know."

Your head tilts to the side with an amused smirk, "You talked to Vision about us?"

"Yeah," Bucky anxiously chuckles. "I didn’t really have a choice, everyone just about slapped me upside my head. Well, Steve actually did. But anyway, he told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was being an idiot, which wasn't that uncommon of a sentiment."

A laugh bubbles out of your mouth, "Vision called you an idiot?"

"Vision, Steve, Sam, Natasha, Wanda, Tony, Clint, even Peter. And honestly, I don't disagree."

Almost six months had passed since your brief separation. Six months had passed since he asked you to stay.

And stay, you did.

You talked that entire night, talked about how you could fix what was clearly broken.

You talked about everything, the future you wanted, the future he wanted. You agreed that Bucky would go back to therapy. You talked about the team and Bucky’s work. There was so much left uncertain at the end of the night, but you had one very solid conclusion: that you would both try. And in the months since then, things were settling fairly well. Bucky didn’t wake up screaming in the middle of the night. He could envision a future that was brighter than the past. Your house felt like a home again. Light poured in once more. The silence was replaced with music. You finally danced with Bucky again.

Things were looking up. It all seemed brighter now.

Bucky finally stepped into the daylight.

"You don't?" you question.

"Well, I was being an idiot, and it almost cost me the best thing that has ever happened to me." You remain silent, a blush creeping up your face as Bucky continues talking, "You know that, right? You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, I love you, more than I ever thought possible."

"I love you too." You rest your head back against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. It adds something to the moment. In this moment, it is you and him. He is all you see, all you care to hear. He is the only touch that has ever ignited hope within you. In this moment, everything is right. Everything is perfect. "And I'm glad we found our way back to each other."

"Me too." Just over your head, he looks at that bookcase. The one from your second date. What you didn't know was on a shelf just out of your reach, tucked in the corner, sat his mother's ring. He smiles to himself. He's sure in that moment that his heart will never be as full as it is in this moment. "I'm happy here. I want to be happy, to make you happy. I want us to be happy together."

What he didn't tell you was the he could see it all in his head. He could envision it like he'd live through it time and time again. He could see the home you'd build together. He could see the family you'd one day have. He could see you walking down the aisle to him.

He'd have the next twenty years, but until then, he'd have these twenty seconds to tide him over.

Author's note: So... um... I've got a surprise for you guys. I couldn't actually decide what ending to go with. Sad? How unpredictable for me (That was sarcasm.) Happy? (I've always loved a happy ending, but I can acknowledge that they are not always the most realistic. So why not write both?

So here we are, dear readers, if you want to keep this image of a perfect, fluffy, happy ending, stop here. If not, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Alternate Ending! AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310

39 notes · View notes

yennefer-x-tissaia · 10 months

Text

Yennaia bits in ep 3.04

We start off the ep with Yen debasing herself in front of...the Council? Idk. Triss, Sabrina and Rita are there and they definitely weren’t on the council before. But they lost people at Sodden so it might be for all we know.

She’s talking about throwing a party organising a conclave to unite the mages of the North and she starts we-ing.

(The subtitles are wrong - some other dude asks ‘Who is ‘we’?’)

And of course we know who ‘we’ is.

The rest of them are like ‘no shit’.

Yen then goes on to apologise and beg forgiveness.

And she does a bit more quoting from self-help books, which amuses Tissaia.

The Council(?) are won over and everyone bashes their hands on the arms of their chairs and a party it is!

Sabrina and Rita are tasked with hand writing the invitations (surely mages can just magic these things up?? Seems a lot of effort. But it’s fun imagining them bitching about this low level job they’ve been given while Tissaia and Yen swan about and giggle together.

Tissaia compliments Yen on her political acumen.

Yen’s like ‘It’s just being a selfish arsehole in a different way, of course I’m good at it.’.

Tissaia sees through this overly sincere politician talk and tells Yen she can drop the act now and it’s actually delightful to see Yennefer relax into herself.

They laugh and grasp at each other and it’s genuinely lovely for them to have this moment together.

Then Yennefer notices Tissaia’s new jewellery and somehow knows ‘this is new’ despite not having seen Tissaia since a month after Sodden.

We get another close up on the bracelet of doom, so we definitely know it’s going to go off in the third act.

I wish this laughter was because they both knew he was a dick and that they were playing him. Alas, we have to conclude that Yen is thrilled that Tissaia is getting some from her new daddy.

However, it gives us this moment of herlooking at Tissaia with unadulterated affection, so I will take it.

Tissaia makes a comment that we can all relate to.

Yes, Tissaia, we all are. And we get some exposition about Philippa and Tissaia being close, despite this never having been mentioned or alluded to before.

Tissaia looks at Yen’s chest sad and wistful.

Yen is probably wondering why Tissaia has all these grudges with other mages and Yen herself gets forgiven instantly for everything. She makes a joke to lighten the mood and Tissaia is amused again.

(Then there’s a bit with Triss about the novices going missing that I’m trying to repress because unless Tissaia’s under some sort of mind control, then her flippancy about girls going missing is infuriating.)

As with the conversation about Yen coming home, Vilgefortz takes part in another scene that only emphasises how much Yennefer means to Tissaia. He challenges Yennefer’s presence at Aretuza and she’s cheeky about it.

But she changes her tune when he brings up Tissaia.

Yen is clearly sincere in her reactions to what he’s saying about her impact on Tissaia.

(Of course it’s infuriating that we know he’s the one with the agenda and is going to hurt Tissaia, but nice to see Yen get to hear this stuff.)

Yen couldn’t lie to Tissaia if she tried 🥺

“I know you to your core. Your pain my pain.” 🥺😭

When I first watched this, I wondered if we were going to get an inkling that Yen might be suspicious of Vilgefortz in return, and tell him that if he hurts Tissaia, she’ll make Sodden look like a back garden barbecue on a wet weekend. But she seems to have been taken in as badly as Tissaia.

God that one hurts.

Sigh.

Very true, Vilgefortz. We all wanted her to be an arsehole to you. It’s far more comforting.

Anyway, Yen goes to visit Tissaia’s ex Philippa to invite her to the party.

On her return, her portal goes weird and she is attacked and ends up on the floor of the Council room, where Triss and Sabrina find her.

Yen: on the floor, panting and bleeding Sabrina:

(That’s not Yennaia related at all, I just heart Sabrina so much)

Anyway, Triss implies that Yennefer should be careful who she trusts and that bringing Ciri to Aretuza isn’t a good idea.

Probably because Tissaia’s been acting like a pod person around her and also told Vilgefortz stuff last season that she wasn’t supposed to. But Yen takes it the wrong way and storms out.

And we see them all get ready for the party, and that’s the end.

#yennaia bits s3 #yennaia #yennefer x tissaia #commentary #screencaps #season 3 spoilers #the witcher spoilers #triss #sabrina #vilgefortz #philippa #ep 3.04: the invitation

113 notes · View notes

angeart · 4 months

Text

fic recs

speaking of fanfic tropes, i was meaning to make a post about my absolutely favoritestest fics that live in my heart rent free.

in no particular order:

• you came at the brink of the end of the world

[AO3 link] - by anonymous

currently unfinished at 84k words and 21/? chapters

insane about this one. insane. it's beautifully written and scar calls grian trouble (best thing ever and nobody can convince me otherwise) and grian is a bundle of unknown magic and memory loss and trauma and it's just overall great. trust me.

this is from the official fic description:

[grian is falling from the sky, scar has more magic in his blood than he realized, and everyone else is so much better at seeing than they are]

tags include strangers to lovers, slow burn, hurt/comfort, memory alteration, pining, found family...

---

• and like an arrow, you broke me down.

[AO3 link] - by mochiwrites

currently unfinished at 81k words and 14/? chapters

traumatised sad birb grian gets thrown straight from the grief of 3rd life into the middle of last life. of course the first thing he does is get away from southlands (martyn???) and beelines for scar. there's confusion and emotional damage and man. it hits hard and it's wonderful and i absolutely love this one. also a beautifully written fic (yes i'll say this for all of these bECAUSE THEY ARE!)

tags include angst, hurt/comfort, PTSD, survivor guilt, protective scar/grian, touch-starved scar, and canon typical things like violence and referenced suicide

---

• closer to another shore

[AO3 link] - by remrose

currently finished at 56k words and 15/15 chapters

this one is sooo heartfelt and heartwrenching and sad and good and. it just makes you feel things. the way they delicately navigate around each other. the way it all goes up in flames anyway because they can't have it any other way. the way their steps keep bringing them inevitably back together.

scar and grian start as exes, with the circumstances of their break up murky and mysterious. and scar needs help, and grian offers himself.

there's a lot of pain and guilt and weakness (because how can they help but be weak towards each other?) it's wistful and tragic and hopeful. it's. it's something. (and did i mention it's beautifully written?) (it is) (just go read it really.)

(i'll also throw this bait at you. this bit. this: Grian was the absolute most infuriating man Scar knew. It was a shame he loved him to death.)

tags include soul bound, mating rituals, panic attacks and anxiety, hurt/comfort, chronic illness, insomnia, guilt, slow burn

---

• lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart)

[AO3 link] - by definitelynotshouting

currently unfinished at 51k words and 9/? chapters

this one. THIS ONE. gosh where do i even begin. there are some deep, raw, self destructive feelings here. grian is a watcher in the sense that he is a creature that feeds on emotions, and he's dangerous and starving, and things have gone so very wrong. he just doesn't want to hurt anyone ever again. he's going to do everything he can to take himself out of the picture just to prevent that. (yeah this one is HEAVY.)

the writing. the writing. it's so so so beautiful. i know i keep gushing about the same thing for all of these fics, but. there's something so intricate and pretty in the way the words are woven in this one. i'm absolutelly entraced by the language. it's so pretty.

this is the hunger au if any of you are familiar with that name.

like i said, this one is a whole different kind of heavy. tags include angst, hurt/comfort, suicide attempt, starvation, eating disorders, body horror, trauma, self-harm, injury... (the light at the end of the tunnel is the recovery tag mkay)

------

if you go read any of them, make sure to look over AO3 ratings and warnings and tags for cw/tw stuff!

#ange rambles #fic recs #my absolute favourites #these are wonderful i promise #S tier

21 notes · View notes

capnsupernova · 20 days

Text

I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep so here is a running list of all the reasons I will always love the Kiera Knightly and Matthew McFadyen version of Pride and Prejudice over any other remake ever:

The music. Every time I hear that opening song I feel like the opposite of crawling out of my skin. Like crawling back into my skin after letting my skin sit in the sun for a little while. And the song that Lizzie and Darcy dance to is so moody and angsty and perfect for their relationship and conversation at the time. And the song that plays when her and Charlotte aren't speaking is such a mix of light and life continuing to go on even when you feel such intense loneliness. Ugh. Just the music.

The scenery and the cinematic shots. They turned that movie into an art piece. The scene where here and Charlotte aren't speaking, with the music, and her just sitting on that swing, spinning as the seasons change and people just go on with their lives as if she hasn't lost one of the most important people in her life until she finally hears from Charlotte again. Everything about Pemberley and the journey leading up to it and the way you can see her falling in love with Darcy as she walks through his house and how that alone is enough to get a better understanding of him and his softer, homely side. The scene at the end in the field with the soft light of the rising sun and the fog in the field. The scene after she turns down Mr. Colins, with the pond and the geese and her mother screaming at her. Every scene was given it's absolute optimal shot of emotional and aesthetic quality.

Her parents. The people who play Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are just peak in my mind. I wanted Mr. Bennet to be my dad. His affable distance, his voice, the way he smiled. The way he obviously loved his daughters but also obviously didn't understand them at all. MRS. BENNET I don't care what anyone says. She was peak Mrs. Bennet. I cannot accept anyone else. Her kind of airy, high-strung voice and way of speaking. How her hair and clothes were always in slight disarray. The scene where she learns that Lydia has been married and her family isn't in ruins, how she goes from prone and distraught to immediately like "Married?" with an absolutely light and wistful and hopeful face/voice. A full 360 of her previous mental state.

And then just the individual scenes:

Like a few of the ones already mentioned, the scene after her and Charlotte's fight. How it emphasizes so strongly the relationship between them and how that is so clearly more heartbreaking to her than anything that could possibly happen between her and Mr Darcy. Without a single word spoken or a single action taken besides the spinning and the passage of time it conveys how lost and alone she feels in those moments. The pigs being chased in the background adds a touch of humor but also is a great shot of her despair. This is something Lizzie Bennet would laugh about, something she'd find silly and wonderful and she can't do that now because her friend isn't there with her.

And the scene where she gets the letter from her family about Lydia running away and she comes out after reading it with the intention to tell them what's going on, but she's so distraught and stressed that all she can do it make that sound so she just goes right back into her room and then shows up again a few seconds later much more composed and just says "Lydia's run away" and the look on Darcy's face like "babygirl, I'm gonna fix this. You don't need to know about it, but I am going to fucking fix this because you are sad and that hurts me" just with his face.

(Also Mr Darcy in general, the way Matthew McFadyen's face can go from gloomy and bored and apathetic to so so so soft. Like. kill me, please. If anyone’s face ever did that when they looked at me, I would cut out my whole entire heart and just give it to them, bleeding and beating and all.)

(Full disclosure, this movie was probably my actual first bisexual awakening. Kiera Knightly and Matthew McFadyen can do whatever they want to me.)

The scene where Jane is leaving to go on her trip after Bingley has left her with no word, and she's sitting on the back of the coach and she's smiling but it's such a frozen, practiced smile that never reaches her eyes so you can still see her heartbreak.

At the end, when her and Darcy meet in that field, and he's confessing his love to her and all she says is "Your hands are cold" which isn't I love you, exactly, but then she brings them to her lips and there is so much care and gentleness that it might as well be I love you.

The scene where Mr. Bingley comes back to propose and their all just chilling, lounging in the sitting room until they get the call and they flurry around the room to get "presentable" and then the door opens and they're all just sitting perfectly poised and pretty as if they weren't just flurrying around the room.

Listen.

There are some things I would have liked more of. Like the scene where she comes to visit Jane while she's sick and Caroline says that bullshit about how she looks "positively medieval" and Darcy is supposed get all snappy and say "well, actually, I think the walk made her look more lively." LIke more of him defending her when she's not even around to hear it, becasue that foreshadows so much of his behavior towards the end, including him specifically asking Lydia never to tell anyone that he was the one that helped her get married.

But just about everything else.

Everything.

I don't care that it wasn't as true to the books.

Because in some ways, with the changes they made, it was more true to the books and the characters and the intent of the book. I am of the camp that movies shouldn't be exactly like the book. It should be its own experience. Translating books directly and perfectly into a movie/tv show is just boring to me. Make it something unique. Make it an extension of the story, not a carbon copy of it. Like the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. There is not a single remake of that book that is exactly like the book itself or is exactly like each other, on purpose. Changes should be made, but only if those changes are actually meaningful and better express what is happening between the characters. And the changes made for this movie are so perfect and lovely.

There is so much that is captured without the need for words.

Everything about this movie will always immediately put my heart and soul into a good place. This movie single-handedly makes me believe in love. And not just any love, but a love of understanding, a love that takes work and communication, love between women and the importance of female relationships over all else. The way the scenery and music speak just as much as the characters do.

I just think about that movie sometimes and it makes my heart feel so many inarticulable things.

Anyways. yeah. That's all. Thanks for coming to my 4AM rant about P&P.

#Also Kiera Knightly as Elizabeth Swan can get it too #I would die for that woman #I would let her kill me #pride and prejudice #mr. darcy #elizabeth bennet #jane austen #kiera knightley #matthew macfadyen #movie adaptation #mr. bennet #mrs. bennet #jane bennet #mr. bingley

10 notes · View notes

tokusaatsus · 1 year

Text

h. kaoru — the beach

warnings: me being pretentious, mild references to suicide (via drowning)

“Tell me—if I told you that I loved you, what would you say?”

When he speaks, it’s slowly, hesitantly. It’s as though he’s carefully thinking through everything before it leaves his lips. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think his words over. What brought this on, you wonder.

Kaoru braces his forearms against the rail of the balcony, leaning forwards as though he might tip over the edge and let himself fall. Right into the crashing waves below, a suffocating hug. You blink and there he is, his body torn to pieces by the cutting rocks, his blood webbing across the surface of the ocean. You blink and there he is, the salty sea breeze tousling his hair and brushing against his cheeks in a loving caress.

You find yourself jealous.

To be able to touch him so tenderly… You can, if you want to. You just have to reach out. There is nothing stopping you except your fear of interpreting everything—his smiles, his touches, his words—wrong.

You’ve never thought yourself a coward before, but Kaoru is something precious to you and to lose him would…well, maybe not destroy you. You’re not so naïve that you think a broken heart is the same thing as the end of the world.

Still, it would hurt all the same.

He watches you with furrowed brows as you force your wandering thoughts back into some semblance of order, probably trying to glean what information he can from the emotions that show on your face. You’ve always been an open book, or so he says. Things change, yes, but there are some universal constants and he is one of them. He’s always been like this, you reminisce fondly in the safety of your own mind. Prone to thinking, thinking, thinking—sometimes a little too much; don’t chase all those rabbits, Kaoru. You’ll get lost in the wonderland of your own head.

You giggle then, eyes bright; is this a confession?

Maybe, he replies, face blank, not betraying anything. Maybe.

Oh. You mouth the words, surprised despite yourself.

Then he smiles, a little dreamily. He looks wistful when he stares at you, like you can’t possibly be real. There’s a little bit of that in his eyes right now. It settles amongst the glints of gold in his sweet-grey eyes: here is a boy destined to be lonely, or so he thinks.

Here is a boy you love, lonely no more.

Your fingers twitch at your sides. In your chest, your heart gives a squeeze, aching with want. To reach out, to draw him close. Not yet, though. Not yet.

“Well,” You begin, testing the words on your tongue. “You’ll have to be a little clearer. Because if this is a hypothetical situation, as you say it is… If you’d confessed to me, hypothetically,” The emphasis you place on the word makes it clear you don’t believe that is truly the case. “I would’ve say yes.”

Now it’s his turn to startle, eyes suspiciously bright. He smiles once more, just as wistful, then turns his head to face the ocean once more. A single tear trickles down his cheek, and you step forwards to brush it away. “Crybaby,” You tease, fond as ever. Kaoru laughs wetly.

“Cut me some slack. The person I love told me they love me back. I’m allowed to get a little emotional.”

“Mm,” You hum, tracing the lines of his face with your thumbs. He leans into your hold, like a cat would. His eyeslids flutter shut, he watches you through his feathering lashes. The two of you stand there, silently, as the sun goes down.

No longer lonely, no longer breathless.

wc. 615 words

reze txt. when i tell you he is always on my mind, i mean it. sorry for being pretentious about how much i love him ♡ partly inspired by the beach by the nbhd

taglist. (fill out the form or send an ask to be added!) @prpne @gabirii @kazemiya @engurishu @kkomaism @asbestieos @mikctp @lilikags @lolthia @unwantedsleep @hasumilvr @head-full-of-empty @pr3tty-jennie @narumika @birthday-of-music

#✒️...scribbles!#hakaze kaoru x reader #enstars x reader #hakaze kaoru #undead #enstars #esworks

68 notes · View notes

vidalinav · 2 years

Note

Oh but if Nesta does let Cassian hold the baby... I'm a sucker for giant men holding tiny infants with all the care in the world

Please forgive my generic ass name for Nesta’s child, but I gave no fvcks and I couldn’t make myself care about it. The other option would have been Noname so I think this is much better lol.

Nesta holds that tiny baby in her arms and for a moment she looks frightened. Wide eyed and tucked in close, she holds that little girl to her chest. Why now does the world seem so big?

Her screams are larger than life. Big and bold and breathtaking. She’s this frail, little thing all baby pink and somehow he knows she’s well. She’s strong. She’s a fighter.

Hazel.

Coincidentally the color of his eyes though Cassian won't say that out loud. Her name is Hazel and she already has that look. Exactly like Nesta, that sweet judgmental frown and the furrow of a brow. What might she be thinking in this room full of foreign stares?

She’s swaddled now. The blanket, all cloud white and pristine, is wrapped tightly around her, but she doesn’t sleep. Hazel is filled with curiosity right down to her tiny toes, safe in her mother’s arms.

“It seems strange,” Nesta says, her voice wistful.

“What does?” Cassian asks, taking her in. He’s done it only a million times since she’s gone into labor--accounting for all things. He checks it off in his mind, how well she looks. If she’s safe. If she’s healthy.

“That I’m a mother... When this morning I wasn’t... It was only a dream until now--something I just imagined--but here she is, staring at me with those big eyes.” Nesta shrugs a little, her lips quirking fondly as she peers at the pale blue so much like her own. “I wonder what she thinks of me--if she thinks this is as strange as I do.”

“Well she is only a couple hours old,” Cassian offers. “I’m sure the view here is a lot better than the one she got in the sack... there’s more to see.”

He shakes his head, but Nesta only laughs. A slight, soft sound that has him standing taller in his seat. But then, she’s looking at him, a quick glance as if she’s forgotten something. “Oh, do you want to hold her? You’ve been with me all day, I forgot to ask.”

Everything in him wants to admit yes, but Cassian finds himself hesitating, his hands burrowing beneath the underside of his thighs. “I don’t know if I should.”

“Why?”

“She’s so small. What if I hurt her?”

Nesta seems to contemplate this and Cassian tries not to shirk in his seat. He’s much too big, he might scare the babe. His wings might be too menacing. His skin might be too rough from all the callouses and scars. A warrior maims and protects, he isn’t taught to comfort, though Cassian has tried hard for so long.

Still... he can feel that itch in his palms. He wants to meet Hazel and hold her in his arms and promise quietly that he’ll never let go even when he hands her back to her mother. I’ll protect you always.

But can he? Will this little baby call him out as a liar and a cheat? Maybe not with words, but will she scream for someone better than him, squirm in his tight hold? Will she frown judgmentally as if he’s not worthy enough to hold her in his grasp?

But Nesta asks, “Would you hurt me?”

“Not on purpose,” Cassian says, “but you don’t fit in my palms. She’s... fragile.”

“And you’ll be careful. Just like you are with me.”

Cassian pauses at that, taken back by the words, but Nesta’s already shifting towards him. For a moment, he’s rushing forward. A list of things sit on his tongue. To lie back down, to be careful, to rest.

But she comes for him with a too curious child in her arms before he can get out a word.

“There,” she says settling the babe in his hands. The light tilt of her lips has him holding his breath. “You’re right, she does fit in your palms.”

Indeed. The length of a dagger and just as lethal. She’ll break his heart before she even knows it’s in her small hand.

“Hello,” he says breathily, and he can hear Nesta’s distant snort. “Hi, Hazel. I’m... I’m Cassian.”

“Just greet her with a good afternoon, too, and you’ll both be set,” Nesta mocks.

“I got you a bear suit,” he offers. Hazel merely blinks. She doesn’t cry, doesn’t squirm. She simply looks, waiting for him to do something. For someone so small, she’s less frightened than him. “It might not fit you yet now that I see you, but that’s okay.”

Cassian remembers the store, nodding. Little tufts of hair, and he’s already deep in negotiations. “I’ll get you a smaller one and when you’re older I’ll get you the whole store--the toy store. Or the clothing store. Or the bookstore if you’re anything like your mom.”

“That’s awfully generous.”

“For you too,” Cassian is quick to add. “I’ll build those book shelves. You can have a whole library just like you wanted.”

Nesta huffs a soft laugh. “Who knew all it would take was a baby, for you to fall at my feet?”

Cassian spares a glance to the babe in his arms and then back to the woman of his dreams and says the only words he can find any truth in. “I would have already done that, if only you’d let me in.”

To be clear, Nesta and Cassian are not romantically involved in this scene.

@arinbelle

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta baby fic

225 notes · View notes

stuckasmain · 1 year

Text

Cw: Suicidal intent/thoughts

There is a underlying sadness to Christian that seemingly goes unnoticed, both by his friends and the fans themselves. This is much more prevalent in the musical as it comes to a head with him nearly taking his own life on stage. Interestingly enough this was built up to throughout the show and not “just over a girl” though she plays a part in it. Christian is actually quite a sad figure when you look deeper into his character besides love sick American.

He expressly states from the beginning arriving in Montmartre he came to find

“Where I could belong. Where my heart could be free. To be a child of the revolution! To be artist…to fall in love. To loose myself in the dazzling chaos of Montmartre. Everything I wanted to be etc”

He gives such a wistful monologue about this being the place he had dreamed of for so long. He knows exactly what the Denison’s are, what they do and stand for and he’s been longing for it. Christian is also aware the bohemian life is one not made to last- they burn passionately but are put out quickly. They die young. Be that by their own hand, addiction, murder, disease etc. He knows all of this and it’s what he wants. (My heroes have the heart etc. This is much later but much more direct and about artistic suicide).

Christian is a sensitive boy. We don’t know much about his life before arriving in Paris but what we do know is he studied music in school and that his father is a absolutely horrible man. One who he probably had to fight to even learn music, one who would do anything to beat the sweet and sensitive Christian into a “Real man”. From this we can probably gage his family is well off, upper-middle, enough to send him to boarding school or university. He views paris as a escape from his “Suffocating life in America” he wants to be wild and free and himself like all of his heroes— this is where he can truly live! Poverty or not.

When he meets satine he falls in love for the first time, in his narration he even admits to being irrational. She is everything to him. She’s his first real experience with human connection on a romantic level and I can suspect she knows far more about him than even Toulouse and Santiago. Satine is far more than his lover, she’s his everything- as cheesy as it sounds. Loving her makes life worth living. In come what may he quite literally states “suddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste”. He’s not as naturally optimistic as everyone around him thinks- her love and the dazzle of the new world around him is what’s making him so, he’s riding that high. When he crashes? It’s hard. “Why else suffer through this life, if not for love?”

And yet, they all view him as a hopeful boy with his whole life ahead of him as if he hadn’t arrived in Paris to throw it away. To bury himself in a fast , passionate but short life of art and feeling. He’s here for a second chance, to give meaning to his life— he wouldn’t leave it behind this place is why he’s so happy and alive! Toulouse and Satine think he’s trapped here, think they drag him down etc while ignoring its expressly what he wants…this is what dooms them all. By trying to protect him, lie to him, “give him a chance” he’s getting hurt far more.

“Who came to Paris to find himself and instead found all of this. A place to belong, people to love, and a woman. A woman who showed him all that truly matters in life.”

Christian would rather live incredibly poor and with a moderate writing success that rich and unable to fully express himself. Something I love about johns performance is that during Roxanne “Feelings I canttttt hide!” He hits himself in the head- he’s both incredibly drunk but also tearing himself apart because he can’t hide how he feels even for a little bit and that always ends poorly. Even here- even a place so wild and open he messed things up, while he’s a very springy and optimistic character at times. I’m tired of this nuance and underlying sadness going ignored.

#Moulin rouge #moulin rouge!#Moulin rouge musical #Moulin rouge tour #moulin rouge broadway #christian moulin rouge #satine moulin rouge #toulouse lautrec #character study #meta #ramble #scene analysis #song analysis #character analysis #musical #musicals #jukebox musical #cw sucidal ideation #john cardoza

50 notes · View notes

blueathens · 1 year

Text

Teaser For Series (It’s Not Like The Movies)

Character Profiles||Playlist||Masterlist||Act One Teaser

Not my gifs - credit to the makers

Teasers are from my planning - so not official! If you guys have any ideas for series’ then feel free to send them in - if used then I’ll credit you :) (e.g. references to Disney/fairytales etc)

If you want to be added to any taglist for any of my works - let me know and who/what for!

“I did. Don’t get your hopes up though, it’s not anything expensive.” He rolls his eyes playfully as he takes the bag she handed him out of her hands to place it on the ground to look into. His blinks a few times as if he was imagining things before a grin made itself onto his face. “It’s not much,” she shrugs as he takes out the three mixtapes from the gift bag to take a look at the songs on each. One of them was labelled with his name, the other with hers, then the last one was both of their names together – all with songs that meant something to them. “This is my favourite thing ever,” he utters; completely astonished that someone did this for him. “Like I said, it’s nothing expensive,” she shrugs again as she watches Charles grin widely, shaking his head as he stands himself up before embracing her in a hug, “yet I have become the wealthiest person in the world, mon amor.”

“I can see what’s happening,” Daniel nudged Lando. “What?” “And she ain’t got a clue!” “Who?” “They’ll fall in love and here’s the bottom line, our duo is down to one.” “Oh.” Lando furrows his brows as he looks down at the ground before his eyes widen, head snapping to look at Daniel. “Y/n is in love with-” Daniel practically prances on Lando to cover his mouth so no one could hear his shouts, they both tumble to the ground as Daniel glares at the younger boy. “Be quiet,” he says through clenched teeth. “You don’t know who be listening.”

“So Daniel and Y/n aren’t together?” The pirate questioned. “They are not.” Lando answered. “But they were holding hands earlier?” “They do that.”

“Pardon?” “The kiss.” She waits for him to say something about it – anything. But alas, he gives her nothing but empty stares. “You can take it back if you want to. It won’t hurt my feelings.” And of course, she was lying. It would really break her heart in two if Charles felt that what happened yesterday was a mistake. “Oh.” Charles purses his lips, looking back down at his book as if she hadn’t said anything at all. “No, thank you.” Y/n’s brows furrows inwards as her head moves backwards slightly in pure shock, nose scrunching as she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She had been preparing everything she was going to say for every possible scenario, yet here she is, racking her brain trying to come up with how to respond to such an ambiguous yet lucid answer. And now he won’t even look at her, his undivided attention set upon the book he was reading. “Was that all, mon ange?”

“I’m tough,” she whispers and Rúben nods. “I know you are.” “I can’t take care of myself.” “You have,” he says. “You still do. You always will. I’ve just joined in, too. Now we take care of each other.”

He’s halfway asleep when she speaks. “Have you watched Inside Out?” She whispers. “Yeah. I cried.” He cries in quite a few movies, so she isn’t surprised, but she laughs softly anyways. “You know those little yellow memories that got lost?” She kisses his jaw mid-sentence. “Core memories?” “Yeah, those.” Silence for a moment. When she speaks again, his eyes are closed but he can hear the wistful smile in her voice. “Every time I’m with you, it feels like a new core memory.”

“Listen to me carefully,” Daniel said lowly leaning in. there was no emotion behind his glinting eyes. “You tell, I call Y/n L/n. You remember her? You make a move to get up, I call Y/n. You reach for your radio, I’ll call Y/n. You do anything? I call Y/n, and you don’t want me to call Y/n.”

“Take your shirt off, I need to see your back.” “I always knew you secretly wanted to get me out of my clothes. This is…intimate,” Y/n smirked as she shrugged the shirt aside, letting it fall into a crumpled heap. The smirk soon faltered though when Charles dabbed a warm cloth onto her wounds. She refuses to wince, instead she chose the option to continue to joke around with Charles, as if she wasn’t just at death’s door a few moments ago. “Should I take my trousers off too?” “I should just let you bleed out.”

“What’s your favourite event?” “The lanterns,” Charles says instantly. “I’ve never done one or seen them up closely before – always just from my bedroom window.” “This year I’ll take you to see the lanterns.” “You promise.” “I promise – besides, I know the best place to watch them.”

Y/n carefully rested the crown made of daisies on top of Charles head, and Y/n couldn’t help but think how perfect it looks sitting there, like Charles was always supposed to have a crown made of flowers rather than jewels. Mockingly, she curtseys, uttering the words “my king,” before standing up straight to admire her soft looking boy in the moonlight. He, however, smiles at her softness and pulls her in by her gloved hand before interlocking their fingers together whilst his arm wrapped round her waist, making sure she’s as close to him as possible as they hid from everyone – his brothers, Pierre, and Daniel promised they’ll stay alert if anyone dared to go into the section of the garden they were in. He leans in, his hot breath hitting the side of her neck as he whispered into her eye: “my queen.”

Her sword was pressed against his neck, he knew she wasn’t going to kill him – this was one of those fights to kill the other – and he knew she wasn’t going to hurt him either, but the cold metal against his skin still alarmed him, even though he knew Y/n wasn’t going to do anything. “Y/n,” he utters “ma déesse Y/n.” Y/n blinks, a rush of blood running into her cheeks at the sound of his voice, so quiet, so desperate. His voice was so…so…so…nice. She wanted to him his utter her name again, she wanted to hear it whispered in honey, she wanted to hear it screamed from the bottomness of hell and sang across heaven. She wanted it engraved across her heart. Hell, she wanted to trap his voice into a shell necklace saying just so she could press the shell against her ear and instead of hearing the sound of waves his voice saying those words again. She never wanted anyone to hear him say it, but then she does, she wanted for people to hear him say her name so beautifully like Aphrodite only crafted him to say her name so perfectly – and that nickname – not even the thrill of shooting arrows has ever giving her such a rush threw her veins. She would beg every god, singularly, just so she would never hear anyone say her name ever again. She would do anything to get him to say those words again. If that meant handing herself into the king or crawling through fire or swimming all seven seas. She just wanted to hear it one more time. To be able to hear it without the pound of her heart in her ears, without the yells from the crowd, without the feeling of the kings eyes in the back of her head, without him gazing at her eyes, without the grip around her hand. She wanted to hear it again, far from these people, perhaps under a tree by the lake, where only her and Charles sat under, and she’ll hear him say it again. She removes her sword. Say it again, she begs silently. Just once more.

“Would you marry me?” Charles questioned softly as he gazed at her, head in her lap as they were under the tree – their tree – and his fingers were in her hair that has caught the sun and he watched as the corner of her lips tugged up. She stayed quiet though, eyes still closed, it wasn’t like she was thinking of an answer, she knew the answer already, but she replayed his question over and over in his head, wishing that he would be allowed to the question “will you marry me” one day. Course, he never would, as he couldn’t – it wasn’t allowed – she can’t marry him. But instead he asks would – that if they could, would she? “Yes,”

61 notes · View notes