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#he deserves his accolades
briliantlymad · 8 months
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Hayden Christensen im kissing you on the forehead. im giving you headpats. im wishing prequels you could see how crazy people are going over you right now. baby you deserve the world
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chenouttachen · 3 months
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jeff graduating college with first class honours in the midst of taking down a human trafficking ring, hiding his existence from his adoptive father, working at a garage with an abnormally high mortality rate and getting railed by his older boyfriend is utterly bonkers
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claraoswalds · 3 months
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#i think about this scene every day
THE VAMPIRE DIARIES S03E18 The Murder of One
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blamemma · 1 month
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"home on my head"
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pathetic-gamer · 3 months
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Too late, you Menstruate now
me, receiving this ask:
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lakesbian · 8 hours
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Also to be fair I think 90% of options for refined darkness/shadow names would make him sound like a sith lord.
you know what yeah we do have to hand it to brian he did do a good job at coming up with a cape name themed around being a guy who emanates darkness without veering into the territory of the ridiculous and/or complete power over-hype
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notquiteaghost · 8 months
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people who read audiobooks with skill shld get lauded for it more i think. the amnt of character work being conveyed with accent n intonation alone, like. are there awards. kobna holdbrook-smith shld have awards
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gayspock · 1 year
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"someone who knows the difference between right or wrong, hence lee" is this the same lee who cheated on his wife, gaslit his wife, and also ordered (?) his wife to go risk her life and save his fucking sidepiece (during which the person she was with got shot + killedbtw) or is this a different lee ?
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godblooded · 10 months
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never forget the time @hraunwyf tried to tell stark he’s the engineer supreme in another universe and stark’s response was he’s just a silly little mechanic.
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lonewolflink · 30 days
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sometimes i think about how mike green didn't win a norris trophy the season he scored THIRTY GOALS AS A DEFENSEMAN in the fucking dead puck era and i want to break something
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I had a legitimate emotional response about Neil Newbon winning awards for his performance and work on Astarion.
Most of my feelings were centered on how he has never forgotten, not for one SECOND, all the people who worked together to make this character and gane come to life, and every time he gets the spotlight on him he takes the time to remind the world that he didn't do this alone.
That takes so much... quality of character, I want to say. He is deliberate, authentic, intelligent, careful, educated, and mature while still allowing himself to be playful, joyful, whimsical.
I watched an interview where he was asked about his childhood fears and he firmly stated that that was private, but what he DID want to talk about was the process of him realizing that he is in control of himself, his growth, and when he got to the other side of his fear he realized he was in charge of setting himself free as well. And that THAT was power, you know?
He takes responsibility for himself, he navigates publicity with care and grace, and he never forgets who else deserves accolades. If they don't get it, he gives it to them.
There have been method actors that are great for a part, that vibe heavily with their muse. I think Astarion was so, so lucky as a character to be cradled in the hands of this man in particular.
Congratulations to Neil. This is incredibly well deserved.
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rebelspykatie · 3 months
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Steve joins a fraternity because of his father, slots himself easily into the most prestigious fraternity on campus as a legacy. All the guys envy him, his father’s name following him, branding him as a top dog, even as a lowly freshman. The other pledges either resent him or suck up to him, hoping some of that Harrington charm will rub off on them. 
Steve’s done what’s expected of him his whole life, but college gives him that taste of freedom he’s longed for. When he starts dating Eddie, it’s like a breath of fresh air. Besides Robin, he’s the first person that really sees Steve. He’s not a Harrington, or King Steve, or a legacy pledge. He’s just Steve and it’s intoxicating. 
Expectations weigh heavily on Steve. He’s bound to disappoint. He’s used to being the prettiest person in the room, but not the smartest, and the future his father has laid out for him is outside of his capabilities. He’s never going to be a lawyer and take over his father’s firm. He’s never going to be as smart as his little brother Dustin. He’s never going to be anything besides a trophy husband at this rate, good at spending daddy’s money and looking good on social media. 
But Eddie makes him feel like he’s more. More than his father’s name, more than the notoriety he brings to his house. What’s not easy, is that Eddie is in a rival fraternity. Steve begged him not to go to the dark side, but Eddie couldn’t be swayed. The stuffy, prestigious nature of Steve’s house didn’t appeal to Eddie. No, he was drawn to the misfits, the house of slackers and party animals. He wanted to have fun, not make a name for himself. Steve wishes he had that freedom.
The rivalry gets between them, pranks wars gone wrong, comments on how they’re fraternizing with the enemy. Eddie’s better than Steve at ignoring it. It gets under his skin and festers. Eddie’s never on time, always partying with his brothers, late night dnd sessions that seem to be more important than their dates. When Eddie misses a function and leaves Steve standing there alone like an idiot, it’s the last straw and they part ways. 
It’s hard to avoid your ex when you’re on the same campus, just a few houses down from each other. But Steve gets over Eddie by getting under Tommy. He falls prey to his father’s expectations again and sees Tommy as the advantageous match he could be. They’re closer to equals, rich fathers and ambitions that get the best of them. 
It’s easy with Tommy in a different way, the way they both know deep down it’s a political match. They’re both gaining something from this. Tommy gets the hottest guy on campus on his arm, the future leader of their fraternity, and Steve gets to tell his father he’s not messing up his entire life dating a directionless, no-name loser from the worst fraternity on campus. Even if his father’s comments on Eddie make his blood boil, wanting to leap to Eddie's defense, even if he doesn’t deserve it after abandoning Steve. 
Steve’s never been made of the hard stuff like his father or Tommy, he’s always been brittle, too soft on the inside, too fragile to handle that kind of pressure long term. And it cracks, blows up in his face when Dustin wants to pledge and finds Tommy cheating on him with Carol. 
Dustin is less scared of their father, not the firstborn, never expected to take over the business, but he’s also inherently got more freedom because he’s known since he was a kid that he wanted to be a polymer engineer. That path is straightforward and one filled with accolades that impress, the kind of degree you can name drop at a business meeting and not be embarrassed about, because you know Dustin’s not destitute and broke. Dustin’s also never been good at the game their father plays. He’s honest and kind, even if he’s a sarcastic little shit. 
It shocks everyone when Dustin decides to rush Eddie’s fraternity. It’s become a home to misfits in the Greek system, the ones that don’t realy fit in anywhere else. Probably because they’re less worried about grades and more worried about their dnd campaigns and how many nerds they can collect under one roof. That should’ve been enough of a clue for Steve on where he’d land, but Steve is still blindsided by it. Mostly because it inadvertently brings Eddie back into his life. 
Suddenly he’s around every corner, teasing Steve about Dustin, asking more questions about their home life than he ever did while they were together, like there’s no bad blood between them and with a hint of understanding behind his eyes. He even checks in on Steve post Tommy fiasco. It tugs at something in his gut, tricks Steve into thinking Eddie still cares, that he didn’t abandon him because he found out how little Steve has to offer. That he didn’t get tired of Steve not being enough. 
Maybe Steve’s ready to give Eddie another chance. Maybe they deserve another chance at something real, especially when the universe keeps pulling them together. Steve wants something that’s his for once, something he built on his own, something that his father has no hand in. Eddie Munson might just be the very thing that saves Steve from himself. 
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We all love Pedro and want to see him succeed and get all the accolades he so much deserves and are well overdue, if you ask me.
Now, can we also remember he is a real person, with feelings, good and bad days and deserving of respect?
Pedro is also an affectionate person who shows his family and friends his love through touch. And it’s refreshing to see someone on the media who is true to themselves and isn’t afraid of showing that affection in public spaces. However, people take that and run straight into speculating about his sexuality as if it mattered.
We are all here talking about how we wish there were more men showing healthy masculinity and being affectionate. But when a man does it, the band wagon of speculation and criticism judging their sexuality gets so damn full it needs to take many trips. We can’t have it both ways (and no, this is not a bisexual joke).
Yesterday, on many different social media platforms, be it individuals’ profiles or media channels, there were comments on Pedro’s sexuality. They varied from the trousers he wore, the hugs he gave his friends, or because he kissed one of them on the lips. Then they jumped into speculating if he had a threesome with those people he showed affection to. He’s also never exposed his romantic life and relationships, and people take that as a license to comment.
My question is, why in the of year 2024 of our lord and saviour Dolly Parton, the obsession with other people’s sexuality still persists? Even worse, why is it festering among the people who supposedly support them? The fandom can become such a toxic space…
When he disappears for months, the same people complain of the content drought, people complain no stop. Has anyone even paused to wonder why he is no longer being so accessible as he used to be?
I’m happy that Pedro is finally getting the recognition for his work. He’s worked hard to get to where he is now. He deserved that Golden Globe and I hope he gets the Emmy. 2023 was a fantastic year for him and we have enough content from his fictional characters to write fics for years. From Joel to Tim Rockford to Mr Ben in his assembly era to Mando, we’ve been fed.
He’s got a lot of projects coming up in 2024 and I’m excited to see him shine.
Anyway, rant over and I will go stand on the corner awkwardly.
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thefreakandthehair · 1 month
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a steddie fanfiction written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang by @thefreakandthehair with illustration by @janie-bean and beta-read by @steddieasitgoes
“Do it!” Eddie sits up straight for the first time in hours, planting one palm solid on the ground and the other on the arm of the chair. It all happens so fast, Steve’s shocked that he doesn’t find strands of hair ripped out between his fingers. 
“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!” Robin agrees, sitting up a little too quickly if her rapid blinking and steadying hand on the arm of the couch are anything to note. “Munson, you think those cookies are good? You should try the gingerbread cookies at Christmas. He’s been holding out on everyone.” 
Eddie gasps and stares at Steve in faux betrayal, falling onto his back with one hand over his heart. “Is it not torture enough that I was half-eaten by bats? Did I not deserve a special treat for all of my sacrifices, Steve?” 
Always so dramatic, he thinks again, just as he had in the kitchen. 
Steve grins and shakes his head with pinched eyebrows and a scrunched nose. “You needed a lot more than a gingerbread cookie, Ed. And besides, I didn’t really break out the cookbook until after the shitstorm passed.” 
“There’s a whole cookbook?!” Eddie asks, looking over to Robin for support. “He has a whole cookbook?”
Robin nods. “Yep, he’s baked his way through at least half of it now and only like, two have been duds. There’s more than enough to stock a bakery.”
He can barely keep up with the two of them, going back and forth about his sad attempt at macarons a few months back and how Robin would maybe commit felonies for the apple turnovers that came immediately after. At some point, Eddie picks up the plate that held the cookies and licks the crumbs off and Steve just watches— watches with a warmth spreading from the base of his spine to the tip top of his ears as two of his favorite people in the whole fucking world talk about this improbable dream. 
Dreams aren’t things that Steve’s had much time to consider. When he was eighteen, instead of goals and aspirations, or sports accolades and prom dates, Steve was busy worrying if he’d have a future at all. The dream back then was just to survive, but now that he has… 
“Should I really do it?” He says, more to himself than anyone else. 
Eddie and Robin cut themselves off mid-sentence and turn to respond in tandem. 
“Yes!” 
read the rest of butter, sugar, and northern mockingbirds here on ao3!
tagging some peeps who expressed interest! @test-of-my-patience @acasualcrossfade @arelliann @prettyasadiagram @perseus-notjackson @spectrum-spectre @kkpwnall @cuoredimuschio @kas-eddie-munson
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xxblairexxss · 8 months
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We’ll be fine
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Angst, fluff
Word count : 4.7k
Requested!
Relationships aren’t all sunshines and rainbows. Charles and you were trying so hard to maintain this long distance relationships but everything seemed to be going the wrong way. Was it the miscommunication, the lack of reassurance or was it because of your job?
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The FaceTime’s outgoing ringtone blasted through your Macbook’s speaker, giving you a jolt, though you had bern waiting for it for the past 30 minutes.
"God, I miss you so much, baby."
The sight of your boyfriend in red, all sweaty, made you all giddy like a high school teenager. "Hi, boyfriend! Congratulations on the P3!" He went on to talk about the race and everything you had missed for not being able to join him this weekend while you rested your chin on your palm whilst listening to him.
"No way! You saw the same cut board again? Was it from the same person?" You asked; your work-related stuff was long forgotten.
"I'm not sure about that, but it freaked me out a little bit seeing my face that big over and over."
You cackled. He had propped his phone against his stuff, so you got a good look at him while he sorted out things before the press conference. It made you feel as if you were there with him.
This was the first time in a while that you didn’t get into an argument during a 10-minute video call. A few weeks ago, as frequent as it was, Charles and you would always get into an argument, sometimes one that lasted for days. It was all because of your new job and the upcoming summer break.
When you first got the offer, you could see Charles wasn’t too elated about it. It didn’t mean he was unhappy to see you step up into another chapter of your life. He was so ecstatic that he even prepared a small celebration and gifts to celebrate it. For the whole week after you told him about your promotion, that was all he ever talked about.
"I’m so proud of you."
"My hardworking girl"
"You deserved it so much".
Those were the words he kept on showering you with, like a mantra.
But those words eventually turned into fatalistic, forcing you to accept the culpability of the constant disagreement in the relationship.
"Not this again, Y/N."
"I just don’t understand why it’s so hard for you."
"I’m doing this for us too!"
"Am I the only one who gives a fuck about this relationship?"
Being able to talk to him and seeing him all smile with eyes full of accolades and longing for the touch from you erased all of the tainted spots.
That was until he called you again that night. When you told him about your upcoming project was when he blew up all over again. You saw it coming. Even before you picked up the call, before you had arranged those words in your head.
"What do you mean you can’t join me next week? Y/N, it’s my summer break. Don’t you want to spend some time together?"
You covered your face with your hands, internally screaming. He always acted as if you had a choice to reject every offer that the company had arranged for you. As if you didn’t care about this relationship as much as he did. "They asked me to take over the project. I can’t say no."
"I haven’t seen you in weeks." He muttered.
"I wanted to see you too, Charles, but..."
"Don’t say that." He heckled. You saw him roll his eyes, moving away from the camera. "Don’t say shit like that just to make me feel better. I know you don’t actually mean any of it."
"Charles, I really wanted to see you but I can’t say no!" You yelled out, desperately trying to make him see things from your point of view.
"Bullshit." He sniggered.
"What?"
"What if I tell you, Oh, I missed you so much, I can’t wait to see you, then chose to spend the weekend with my friends after saying all that? It sounds bullshit to you, isn’t it?" He shook his head, as if what you said vexed him even more. 
“I wasn’t spending the weekend with my friends. I’m working! It’s a different case.” You argued back, feeling unfair from his reactions.
"I’m going to sleep. Good night."
"Already? But I thought we could talk some more. I wanted to hear your story, I wanted to tell you about happen to me on my way to work this morning.." Your pleas were ignored as he stayed silent, looking as if he were so ready to click the end call button. "It’s okay then. Good night. I love you.”
The call ended. Well, he ended the call without saying it back.
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The summer break came around. Just like any other year, Charles would spend a week with his friends and the other week with his family. You would always join him, but not this year.
You have seen videos and pictures of his friends laughing, teasing each other, and filming funny videos here and there while you were stuck in your office.
Charles would still text you; he would wish you good morning and good night; he would ask you if you had eaten and if you needed him to arrange a food delivery for you; but he never spoke about the summer break anymore. In one way, it just felt like he had erased the words from his mind. Though you still saw pictures and videos of him on his yacht, riding his jet ski, you never asked him about it—basically anything that involved the break—because you just didn’t want to get into another fit of disagreement and his failure to see your situation.
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"What are you having for dinner, baby? I can’t see." He was in his bed, barely keeping himself awake after the full-blown activities in the sea today while you were just getting ready to eat your dinner.
"I’m having sushi!" His eyes widen at the huge selection when you tilted the plate of sushi.
"That’s a lot! You got carried away with the menu again, didn’t you?"
"Yeah.." Your lips were pressed in a thin line, shoulder-sloping like a child who got into trouble.
"Can you actually finish that, love?"
"Obviously no! I’ll figure out a way to not waste any of this." Picking a salmon out of 20 more selections on the plate, you dipped the end into the small plate of soy sauce and devoured one, smiling at the fresh, delectable taste.
"You know I can’t finish them for you. I’m like thousands of miles away." Charles was propping his chin on his hand, forcing himself to stay awake.
"I know. I miss you a lot." You covered your mouth, holding your laugh, when his chin slipped off his palm and he nearly slammed his head against the pillow. "You know you can go to sleep, right? I am fine eating dinner on my own."
"No, I want to stay awake and watch my girlfriend eat her sushi."
You stuck out your tongue and scrunched your nose, making him chuckle. "Which one should I try next?" You moved the phone a little so he could get a full view of the plate again.
"Try the scallop one, baby. It looks good."
You picked the one he chose with your chopstick and ate it up, letting out a squeal of excitement when the taste activated your taste buds. "It’s so good! You would have liked this one."
Charles eventually fell asleep before you could finish your so called eating show. He fell asleep hugging the pillow, which acted as your replacement because he always had trouble sleeping without you. He even asked you to leave a travel-size perfume of yours the next time you came home, just so it felt much more pragmatic in his mind.
Unknowingly to him, you had requested leave from absence home earlier this week, and it was just approved by your supervisor today. It was only for a week, but at least you could see your boyfriend and spend time with him this summer.
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Charles came home, and he was confounded by how tidy his apartment looked. The pile of clothes he had set aside in the laundry room to be washed was gone, and the washing machine was on as it was counting down to 15 minutes, rotating and spinning his clothes. He had left the house quite in a hurry this morning, so he expected it to be out of place, just like how he left it.
"Surprise!"
He sprang back, his head hitting the wall when you jumped out from behind the door as he was about to walk in, causing him to bend down, his hand holding the crown of his head.
"Oh my God! I’m so sorry!" You chortled, covering your mouth from the loud thud sound as you hugged him.
"Ow, I think I got a concussion, baby." He buried his face against your neck as you cradled him like a child. "Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?"
"I wanted to give you a surprise! And a concussion." You stroked his hair, barely able to breathe from the tight grip around your waist.
"God, I missed you so, so much." He planted a trail of kisses along your shoulder blade up to your jawline and ended it on your lips, only pulling away when both of you were out of breath. "I missed you, baby."
"I missed you more. I’m all yours, love. No more hugging pillows!" You snaked your arms around his neck, giggling when you felt his lips on your nose.
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"Y/N, baby, no. I just changed!"
You saw a perfect opportunity when he was standing at the edge of the yacht, seemingly to be in very deep thoughts, so you dashed into him, making him lose his balance as he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you with him back into the water.
"Why do you have to do that?!" You cried out, splashing the water on him with a frown.
"Oh, are you mad at me? Really, baby?" He laughed and lead you back to the yacht as it started getting a bit chilly. You still refused to talk to him, even when he wrapped you in a new towel and engulfed you in a hug. He, however, found the whole situation funny. "Okay, baby, I’m sorry for pulling you into the water. I should have been the only one cold in the sea. " Charles finally surrendered when you seemed to be so in persistent with your sulking attempt.
Rolling your eyes, you fell into a fit of laughter as you threw yourself on him, making him lay down with you on the lounge seats. "I’m just kidding!" You cupped his cheeks and brushed your lips on his. "You are so cute!"
"You make me the happiest man in the world." He caressed your cheeks while you braced yourself on his body. Everything was just so perfect you never wanted this moment to end. Just getting lost in those green eyes gave you a vivid view of the beautiful landscapes. The way you felt his soft, loving touch on your face, trailing the structure of your face tucked on your heart, just when you thought you couldn’t fell in love with this man even more.
"I love you so much, baby." He mumbled, drumming his fingers on your chin, which made you chuckle.
"I love you even more, love."
"Let’s stay like this for a little while. I missed having you in my arms." He leaned his head back on the seats, wishing for the time to stop because everything—literally everything—was just so perfect for him.
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"Baby?"
"Yeah?" Charles came to the kitchen, leaning against the counter while you still had your eyes on your tea, stirring it after you put a spoonful of sugar.
"Mom wished you could join the family’s vacation next week. Is there any way you can extend your leave?"
"I’m so sorry, love, but I need to be at the office by next week." Since you were working on a new project at the moment, it was difficult for you to be absent even more when you already got a week off though you knew right away you would have to pull an all-nighter once you touchdown tomorrow just to go through all those unreplied emails.
"Y/N, please. For me," He held your hand, which was circled around the mug. “For us.”
"Charles, this isn’t about us. You know—"
"Here we go again. I’m the only one who has to tolerate, give in, and follow your schedule. Y/N, this relationship isn’t about you all alone." His voice was louder now, half shouting as he left the kitchen.
"Yes, I know, Charles. I know! You are not the only one who has to ride the wave right now. You are not the only one giving in. I had been with you in every race that I could though I had to constantly fly back and forth. I have told you I was required to be at the office even more now that we’re working on a new project. Once it is all done and sorted out, my schedule will be more manageable. A couple of months is all I ask! I’m so tired of explaining this over and over, but you still keep on thinking I am being selfish in this matter. I am mentally and emotionally drained every single day! I spent hours in the office, coming home, expecting my boyfriend to be my comfort, but you kept on shouting and cursing at me." Your cup of tea was long forgotten as you trudged along his steps to the living room. "I took a leave for one week, hoping it would make you happy, but it is still not enough for you. I don’t know what you want me to do!"
"No one forced you to take the job, Y/N. You have no right to complain about that. I told you numerous times that I can always support you financially." You grabbed his wrists, tugging on them harshly to make him face you.
"That’s not how it works, Charles! I don’t want you to support me with your money. Just because I want and love this job doesn’t mean I can’t get tired of it. I’m a human with a capability to an extent. I just want you to be there for me when I need you." Charles looked away, hands clenched into a fist, when you started choking back tears.
"I feel like you are more scared to lose your precious job than you are losing me, Y/N. It’s more important than me, isn’t it? Your job." He snickered, his head shaking at how absurd this whole argument was.
"I got fired for leaving abruptly during my meeting because you got into a crash. I stayed with you for days, taking care of you, ignoring every call and text from my boss because you were all I could think about, and I could go insane if I wasn’t by your side, waiting for you to wake up. I had to build my career back up. Yes, this is my dream job, but I would drop everything again for you, and you know that too." You harshly wiped another trail of tears on your cheeks. You just wanted to rip your hair out because he kept on turning this back to you, as if you never sacrificed anything for him.
"Are you trying to blame me because you got fired? Is that what you meant? Y/N, that was on you!" Charles hollered, making you flinch as he pointed his finger at your face.
"That’s not it! If something happened to me and you left your race for me, would you blame me for that? No, you wouldn’t! Because there’s no one to blame! That’s what I—" Your words came to a pause when you saw him simpered. "Are you—Charles, what’s with that smile?" Your grip on his arm tightens to get his attention. "Are you saying you wouldn’t leave your career for me? Charles!" He tried to walk away, and you grabbed his shirt, yanking it. "Don’t just walk away! Answer me!" You pulled on his shirt again. "Charles!"
"Don’t ask me that! You and I are not the same, Y/N. Our career, our way of thinking, it’s just not the same."
It hurt. It hurt because you thought you meant a lot to him. You didn’t even want him to choose either one, but the fact that he acted as if your career and his weren’t on the same level shredded your heart to pieces. It was as if your career were nothing compared to his. Sure, it wasn’t one where people paid thousands to see; it wasn’t a career where you got paid hundreds of thousands, even millions, per year, but he, out of all people, knew how hard you worked for it, so you never expected him to disparage your career in front of your face.
"I don’t think I’m the one being selfish right now." He saw you walk past him into the bedroom with your head dropped. It was your last night before you had to fly back tomorrow, and he had ruined everything again. You had actually planned to bake cookies together just so the two of you could spend more time together for the last night, but the whole apartment is cold now, and there was no other sound except your irregular sob.
He stayed up, placing all those ingredients for cookies that you had arranged on the kitchen counter back to where it was. You were so excited to try the new cookie cutter, and he felt so bad for blowing up again.
"Y/N?"
You tugged on the cover, half hiding your face when you heard him walk in. It might not be as convincing as it was, but you held your sob, trying to control your shoulders from shaking too much, so it seemed as if you were already asleep since you didn’t want to talk to him. Not anymore. You were so tired. You would have packed and left right away if only you could, but you knew he would block your moves, holding you back and you didn’t want that to happen because you would have given in again. What you thought was a bad attempt was still able to convince him that you were asleep.
"Good night." He slanted over and pecked at your cheek before getting under the cover and facing the other way. He knew he didn’t deserve to hug nor touch you after making you cry yourself to sleep.
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Charles woke up, frowning, when a shaft of sunlight sipping through the curtain hit his face. "Baby, the sun is blinding me again." He mumbled and shifted to your side of the bed to hide his face against your neck, but all he could feel was a chilly, cold space. "Baby?" He called out a little louder and still didn’t get any response. "Y/N—" He was stunned when he realised your phone, hair tie, and your stuffs on the dressing table were gone. "Fuck!" The fatigue and drowsiness were gone in a blink as he threw the duvet off, feeling himself getting warm even though the AC was frigid.
"Y/N," He went through every room, and all of your clothes were gone. It was as if you were never here for the whole week. “No, no, no, no.”
Your phone was off when he tried to call, and none of his text messages went through. He even went to the airport because he knew your flight was 4 hours away, and he spent hours walking around to look for you, but to no avail. He would have kept you in his arms if he knew last night would be the last time he saw you.
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"Y/N! How are you? Oh my God!" Carla’s eyes widened. Just like any other day, Carla, Arthur’s girlfriend, would ring you just to update you on your life. You met her years ago when she and Arthur started dating, and ever since then, it had been like having a new baby sister. She was also the only one who knew your new phone number. And like always, you guys would talk for hours about everything, and though she never came here to New York, she was basically familiar with your apartment. This time around, you just didn’t happen to be in the apartment when you picked up the call. You were in the hospital, head wrapped up in a bandage, and your hand was as stiff as a rock from the hand cast. "What happened to you?" She yelled out.
"I got into an accident last night. No, two days ago. It wasn’t that bad, though." She rolled her eyes, finding it hard to believe when you winced from the pain as you tried to play it all cool.
"How did you get into an accident? That looks really bad, Y/N! You should tell Charles!"
Charles. It’s been nearly a month since the last time you left his apartment without confronting him. You remember staring at him that night while he slept, like a creep, thinking if you were making the right choice and decided there was no point staying in a relationship where you and him never see things at the same level. You changed your phone number because you knew he would spam your calls, and you knew the moment you heard his voice, pleading and begging you to forgive him, you would crawl your way back to him.
"No, don’t tell him. You promised me you wouldn’t tell anything to him or Arthur. I don’t know if you can call it an accident, but I lost my balance and fell down the stairs at the office. It wasn’t that bad, but I do need a few stitches on my forehead."
"That’s so bad! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Just so you know, if he finds out that I knew about this and didn’t tell him, you need to back me up. How long do you have to be at the hospital? Are you okay all alone?"
"Yeah! I’m completely fine on my own. I will be discharged tomorrow!" The hand cast was actually quite heavy, and it was hard for you to do things on your own, but you’ll manage.
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"Why are you laughing?"
Clara put her phone away from her face, still giggling at the picture that you sent to her. It was a picture of you trying to make a thumbs up with your broken hand because she wanted proof that you had safely arrived at your apartment.
"Oh, it was Y/N!" She chuckled, turning her phone back to show her boyfriend the picture. "Look!"
Arthur blinked in surprise. He wasn’t expecting that at all. "What happened to her?"
"Oh, um—"
"What’s wrong?" Charles intervened, his eyes now on the couple.
Before Clara could make up a lie, her boyfriend was quick on his act. "Y/N. She was covered in bandages. Is that a bandage? Yeah, it is. Oh, it’s a hand cast." Arthur confirmed it himself after double-checking the picture on his girlfriend’s phone.
"What?" Charles furrowed his brows and took Clara’s phone from her hand. "What happened to her? Why didn’t you tell me about this?"
"She told me not to tell you. But she’s fine! Well, she said she’s fine." Clara stated, seeing how the older guy started heading out with only a few of his stuffs.
"Where are you going?" Arthur asked, chasing after his brother.
"I’m going to see her."
"What? You mean right now?" The younger one yelled out. "Has my brother gone mad?"
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"One second!"
You ran from your room, anticipating another delivery from your window shopping gone wrong, and you ended up with 10 parcels that was supposed to arrive by today.
"Hi! You can just put the box here. I— oh,"
Charles was stunned. You were in a short with an oversized jumper, your hair tied up in a messy bun with your bangs pinned back where he could see the stitches right above your brows.
"Can I—can I come in?" His questioned, dragging you back into reality.
"My house is a mess." That was a bad one. You couldn’t come up with a better excuse, and he was still waiting, evidently disregarding whatever you just said. "Fine, come in. Do you want a drink? Coffee?"
"It’s okay. I’m all good."
"Coffee then." You felt his gaze on the back of your head as you grabbed a mug. The airtight instant coffee jar had to be the most difficult thing to open in one hand, even though you had the front part of your elbow circled around the jar. "Can I just get you water?" His laughter made your cheeks red.
"I’m okay, precious. There’s no need for that." He then marched to stand in front of you, hand cupped on your cheeks as he tilted your head to see the stitches. "What happened?"
"I fell. It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt that much." He was gazing at you, and you could feel the wall you built starting to quiver, so you took a step back.
Charles missed you. He missed you a lot. He knew you would have back away, but it never occurred to him that it would hurt this much to see the woman he loved pull in one’s horns with him. "I—,"
"You can’t do this to me." You cut him off, mumbling with your eyes looking down on your hands. "You can’t come here and touch me, forcing me to fall back and jump on you after the way you treated me."
"I came here to apologise." His voice became a whisper, barely audible to you.
"You have apologised for the million times, but I still got blamed for my career, for choosing to be my own person. Everything I do will always be seen as a selfish act by you. I can never make you happy, Charles."
"You have always made me happy, Y/N. Not my career, not my fame. It was wrong for me to say that, but it wasn’t my intention to disparage your choice, your career, or your life. I know you are not living your life as my girlfriend alone; you have your own dreams. I just got so—" He inhaled, looking away, unable to finish his words.
"Charles.."
He felt your cold hand on his, softly tugging it to get his attention and make him look at you.
"I just— I got so used to having you in my life every second before you moved away.” He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, trying to hold in his tears. "I got so frustrated because I came home and it was cold. I was so used to hearing your voice the second I stepped into the house, so used to you screaming my name when you greet me as if you haven’t seen me for years. You moved away so sudden, and it felt so lonely. I am happy for you, Y/N. I am so happy when you tell me about your days at work. I fell in love all over again when I saw the way your eyes were glistening when you talked about your new, dream job, but I wanted you to be with me. It just felt so distant. I am the selfish one all this time. I’m sorry."
You were a crying mess. You had never seen him this broken before. When you accepted your job offer email, you were so perturbed that you would have a hard time living thousands of miles away from your boyfriend, but it never once occurred to you that he would get the short end of the stick. Instead of saying anything, you cradled his head against your neck.
Charles’ arms went around your waist as he buried his head in your neck, replenishing his longing to have you in his arms for weeks. It had been so long since he held you, taking all that you were, everything he ever needed.
"It is not a bad thing to not be able to see each other every day." You mumbled, pulling away to cup on his cheeks. "It is sad, of course, but having you to miss is a privilege to me."
"I never want to lose you, Y/N."
"We just need more patience, understanding, and trust, Charles. I need you to understand me." His hands went on your back as you rested your head on his chest.
"Can you give us another chance?" He felt it was impossible to hide the slight quaver in his voice, too anxious for the worst thing to come. "I truly understand if you don’t want to because—"
"I’m staying." You leaned away and beamed, stroking your thumb against his cheek. "As long as you’re trying, we are trying, and I’ll stay. We’ll be fine."
“I know I said it otherwise but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t come running to you if something happened. You are my life, Y/N.” 
You leaned into his hand, drowning yourself with his touch. “We both need to work on our communication skill. You suck at it.” 
He chuckled, pulling you back into his arms. “Yeah, I am so bad it also costs me my happiness.”
“Can you stay here and keep me accompany for a couple of days?” You just couldn’t let him go today so you had to be self-obsessed today if it got him to be with you for at least another day.
“Of course, baby. Though I might need to buy some new clothes because this,” He extended his arms. “This is all I have.”
“You come here with just these?” There wasn’t any luggage, anything that made it seemed as if he were planning to come and visit you.
“Yeah, I came in a rush when I saw the picture you sent to Clara.”
“You are so silly. I only broke my hand!” He laughed along when you lifted up your hand cast, as if it was something normal to break your hand on a random Thursday.
“Only broke your hand? Only? Really, love. You even got stitches.”
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levithestripper · 11 months
Text
romantic headcanons with peeta mellark
masterlist
warnings: fluff, gender-neutral reader.
length: 1k || read on ao3 || join my taglist
notes: rewatched the movies again and you can guess what happened from there.
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peeta with a crush is singlehandedly the cutest thing you’ve had the privilege of witnessing. he’s super awkward around you, practically tripping over his own feet before he discovers his confidence.
his favorite date activity is picnics! he enjoys sitting under a shady tree and watching the clouds roll by, soaking up the sun’s rays with you by his side. more often than not, he’ll fall asleep there too. hands behind his head, one knee in the air, chest slowly rising up and down.
peeta is the biggest cuddler you’ll ever meet, hands down. sitting together? he has an arm around your waist and his head on your shoulder. sitting across from each other at a table? you can feel his knee pressed against yours. walking together? he laces his fingers with yours every chance he gets.
you’ll find yourself with more forehead kisses than you know what to do with. not that you’re complaining.
he teaches you how to dance! when peeta was little, his mother would put on a record and dance with him in the living room. there weren’t many records—or record players—left in district twelve, so his mother took great care of her small collection. his favorite was a love song by elvis presley. he nor his mother knew anything about the artist, but it didn’t stop them from getting lost in the singer’s words. years later, peeta plays that same song when teaching you how to dance. listening to the lyrics now, with you in front of him, peeta finally understands what elvis had been telling him all this time. he really can’t help but fall in love with you.
this boy is the biggest sap in the entirety of panem. he handmakes you cards, drawing cute doodles around the words he writes. sometimes you swear he’s making up new ‘holidays’ just as an excuse to make you a card. he looks so cute when he says, ‘did you know today is hug your partner day? the capitol declared it a national holiday!’ so you can’t help but go along with it.
not only does he create new holidays, but he also says random days are ‘national [blank] day.’ in the mellark household, mondays are ‘national breakfast in bed day,’ wednesdays are ‘national sleep past noon day,’ thursdays are ‘national kisses day,’ and sundays are ‘national candlelight dinner day.’ you’ll never admit it, but secretly, you love it when he uses excuses like ‘national kisses day’ to kiss you more than he already does. you tease him about it all the time, but it only backfires, as peeta gives it right back.
it doesn’t matter how long the two of you have been dating, peeta will still flirt with you like it’s the first time he’s laid eyes on you. he’ll lean against the closest piece of furniture, chin resting in the palm of his hand, proceeding to use only the cheesiest pick-up lines he could think of. you play along, of course, something you’re more than happy to do. the game ends when peeta asks you out on a ‘first date,’ and he cheers when you say yes.
you can always tell when peeta wakes up from a nightmare. he presses himself into your side, his head on your chest or pressed into the crook of your neck.
peeta will hurl compliments at you all day, but the minute you give it back to him, his face lights up like a strawberry. at the start of the relationship, he had a tough time accepting praise, regardless of what he did to receive it. he’d always subtly deflect it somehow, saying it was ‘no big deal, really!’ or ‘don’t mention it, anyone would’ve done the same.’ with your help—and a never-ending wave of admiration—peeta slowly grew more comfortable accepting the accolades he deserves.
if it wasn’t obvious, he loves all things domestic. something he loves about it is when he has together-alone time with you. each doing your own thing in the same room, silently keeping the other company while they work.
i’ve said this before, but peeta has multiple sketchbooks filled with drawings and half-finished sketches of you. peeta never tells you when he’s sketching you, claiming he prefers a ‘candid, more natural’ look to his portraits. once he fills a sketchbook, you’ll cuddle up next to him as he eagerly shows you everything he’s completed.
peeta’s love language is physical touch, acts of service, and gift-giving! (if that wasn’t obvious enough already). you almost regret telling him your favorite dessert/meal because peeta ensures you’ll never go without it, cooking/baking whatever it is whenever you mention you have a taste for it. you can’t help but love it and him.
as for physical touch, if it wasn’t clear before, peeta’s a top-rate cuddle partner. but his love for closeness manifests itself in different ways, too. back rubs, for one, are a prime example. he starts at the base of your neck, having just finished running his hands through your hair. from there, he rubs down the ridge of your spine, his thick, calloused fingers hitting the best spots every time. it never fails to turn you into a pile of mush, something peeta is (not so secretly) proud of.
with gift-giving, don’t always expect these extravagant, over-the-top presents that cost more than either of you make in a year. if he knows there is something expensive you’ve been yearning for, he’ll save up some cash to surprise you with it. typically, you’re gifted things like a bouquet of flowers, a new book, or something interesting/unique he found at the hob. you’ve slowly begun to fill a shoebox worth of stuff he’s given you over the years.
after you get out of the shower, under the guise of ‘helping you dry your hair,’ he’ll brush through it, detangling any knots still present. to be completely honest, peeta was playing with your hair more than actually drying it. you’re not in any place to complain; you do the same thing to peeta after his showers.
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