#i am once again watching 2005 pride and prejudice

[zipadeea]

One of my favorite things about Pride and Prejudice is the Bennet family’s complete cluelessness about Darcy and Elizabeth. Like, if this were a tv show about the Bennets, Darcy and Elizabeth are like, the D storyline. The whole family is trying to get Jane and Bingley together, the regiment is stationed in Meryton, Mr. Collins is taking the house, Lydia and Wickham are obviously the climax, these people have a lot going on. And then, once the regiment has left and Jane and Lydia and Mr. Collins are married and everything seems resolved: plot twist! They’ve got random nobility at the door in the middle of the night telling the know-it-all sister who has been home on and off through the year not to marry the rando rich guy they all hate simply because they’re family and loyal to each other damnit and he called the know-it-all sister ugly once. 

And then, of course, they all find out Lizzy and Darcy are actually very in love and literally all of the good things that have happened to them this year are a direct consequence of Darcy loving Lizzy lolol. 

#pride and prejudice #i am once again watching 2005 pride and prejudice #mr darcy #Elizabeth Bennet #jane austen #it's just so good

[cupidjyu]

clair de lune

changmin x reader

summary: you and changmin are polar opposites in the dance studio. you're graceful and with a "perfect" image while he goes off on his own way, experimenting with different styles. you hate him and want nothing to do with him. until he chooses you to be his partner in a duet.

genre: dance rivals au, their dance styles are opposites (ballet/hiphop etc), enemies to lovers ish, unknowing pining, self-esteem issues (stop self projecting!), slight hurt/comfort, if you ever watched pride and prejudice (2005) you will recognize scenes, "moonlight" notes: based on the classical song clair de lune, fun fact: i can play the piano! also ik u want me to open requests but gimme like another two weeks to not be exhausted from studies PFF hope you enjoy! word count: 13k (it just keeps growing im sorry)

“Again.”

Wiping off the bead of sweat that traveled agonizingly slow on your forehead, you glanced at the woman—your instructor who was also the bane of your existence–with a furrowed brow. She only stared at you sternly, causing you to sigh with frustration as you turned back to the mirror.

You stretched your arms, trying to make that picture-perfect angle that would satisfy her, and then you pointed your toes, just like you had been told to do since you were young. And then you began to move, your fingers outstretched, your back in a neutral position, and your shoulders–

“Again.”

And this time, you couldn’t constrain the groan that escaped from your lips. You let your muscles relax as you broke out of position to face her with a slightly annoyed frown.

She marked something on her clipboard. Oh, how you hated that clipboard. You once took a glance at it and you had almost cried in bed for the next two days over her incredibly harsh remarks. Constructive criticism, she would say. That… that was just bullying in your opinion.

“Are you giving up?” She practically barked, her voice loud and obnoxious. 

“I’m not–” You rolled your ankle, making sure you didn’t injure it. “I’m just tired. We’ve been practicing for hours.” And then you turned your neck, slightly wincing at the pang of soreness. 

You could’ve sworn her eye twitched as she faked a smile. “For hours because you’re simply not adequate enough to–”

“I am,” You interrupted, your face contorting with exasperation.

She gazed at you with slight surprise. And then she sighed, running a hand through her graying hair. 

“Then why do you keep messing up?” She spoke softly this time, but it was enough to shoot straight through your heart.

“Because I–” You bit your lip, looking down at your pointe shoes. You couldn’t even finish your own sentence because you yourself weren’t sure.

Your instructor stood up, picking up her bag with heavy eyes. “At this rate,” She exhaled lowly. “I might have to give this solo to someone else.”

You widened your eyes and you were immediately rushing to her, hands clasped together. “No, please,” You pleaded. “I– I promise I’ll perfect this. No mistakes. Promise.” You emphasized the last word so clearly that it echoed throughout the room. 

She stared at you with skepticism. 

“Then go,” She uttered. “Start practicing. In two days’ time will be your evaluation and then we’ll decide.”

With a huff of determination, you watched as she opened the door and left. Turning back to the mirror, it was then that you realized just how worn out you looked. Your hair was a mess, the front pieces slightly sticking to your forehead from the “practicing for hours,” which you weren’t exaggerating about at all. Your cheeks were flushed from the constant activity. But despite this, you rolled your ankle once again and began to dance.

Vigorously.

A bit too vigorously.

Every twist and turn started to become more sloppy, more painful. As the song progressed, you found yourself stumbling more and more over your own feet and your lungs began to feel like they would collapse in on itself. 

But you kept going, determined to keep this solo that you’ve worked so hard to get a spot for. 

And it was going well! Amazing actually! Or maybe you were just telling yourself that because soon after your fake words of affirmation came the tripping of your feet and the falling of your whole body against the floor. Your shoulders stiffened as your hands came in contact with the floor and you groaned. 

Luckily, you weren’t exactly hurt anywhere. But you were frustrated. Your friend would always tell you to just take a break but you couldn’t afford that. Instead, you made a move to get up again until your eyes wandered over to where a water bottle had rolled its way over to you. 

Still completely agitated, your hand closed around it and threw it as far away as you could. You watched it skid, all the way down until it hit someone’s shoes. Pointe shoes were nowhere to be seen. Just simple sneakers. And you knew exactly who it was.

“Just when I thought I was being nice,” Changmin hummed, picking the bottle up. “Guess this is mine then.”

His voice was just so… cocky at the moment that you couldn’t help but glare up at him as if to non-verbally tell him to just leave.

The two of you were different. Not just from the pointe shoes and sneakers or from the tight balletwear and the comfortable t-shirt. It was just a lot. While you specialized in the more graceful choreographies and genres like ballet and contemporary, he was the more powerful, sharper one who thrived in hip-hop, popping and the like. And while you spent most of your time perfecting intricate moves, he was frequently finding ways to make his performance more… out there. 

Polar opposites, some people would say.

The only thing that you two had in common was being popular. Not your biggest feat, in your opinion, but it was the truth. In the dance studio, if either of your names were spoken, it was immediately recognized. The both of you were praised, criticized, and talked about on the daily, whether you liked it or not.

Opposites attract, was what other people would say.

But that wasn’t true. At least for the two of you. 

He was just so… arrogant.

“You look worse for wear,” He remarked with an amused smile.

“Thanks for pointing that out,” You snapped, brushing yourself off as you stood up, wincing at the forming bruise on your knee. “What are you doing here?”

“Walking by,” He simply replied.

“You could have just walked by the room then. Not in it.” You took that extra second to look him over. He must have been heading for practice because unlike you, he wasn’t sweaty and didn’t look like a mess. His hair softly fell over his forehead and he had those typical bulky headphones that he always wore to ignore you around his neck.

He smirked. “Just wanted to see how horrible you were doing.”

Fuming, you completely threw away the thought that he looked particularly nice that day. Clenching a fist, all the failed moves in the mirror came rushing back to your vision like waves of the ocean.

“Satisfied? Did you see all the mistakes I made?” You bitterly laughed. It was often just bickering with him. But with your instructor’s voice ringing through your ears obnoxiously, you couldn’t help but snap. With a sigh, you motioned to the door harshly. “Great. So leave.”

You had expected him to retort back. But instead, he just looked at you with an incomprehensible expression. And then his eyes traveled down to the water bottle still in his hand. Out of nowhere, he threw it to you and you scrambled to catch it.

“At least take this,” He replied quietly, no malice behind his tone. 

To say you were confused was an understatement. “Did you put anything in this?”

He laughed. “What? A love potion?”

“No,” You sputtered, toying with the cap of it. “Like a sleeping potion or–”

“And who’s going to take care of you when you’re asleep?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You.” You glared with narrowed eyes. 

“You’re funny,” He sarcastically replied. 

“Are you too much of an asshole to?” A smile tugged on your lips. “Is that why?”

“I’m perfectly capable.” He rolled his eyes. “Just not for you.”

You nodded, fully expecting his answer. And then you jabbed a finger at the door. “Get out then. I need to practice.” Without bidding him goodbye, not even a single wave, you turned around to start the music again.

But then you heard his voice again, calling out to you from across the practice room.

“Moonlight.”

At first, you just thought that he was rambling, saying random things to bother you. But he said it again when you didn’t respond.

“Moonlight,” He said again, a teasing tone suddenly appearing in his voice. With an annoyed exhale, you turned to face him. That was when you came to the revelation that he was addressing you. As moonlight.

“Me?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Yes, you.” He tilted his head slightly. “Good luck with your practice, moonlight.”

Your hand was already raising, threatening to throw the music speaker into his face. “Don’t call me tha–”

“Moonlight,” He repeated. “This song. Clair de lune?”

“What about it?” You eyed him suspiciously.

His gaze searched yours silently for a moment. You’ve always hated it when the two of you locked eyes. It always left you feeling weird inside. Agitated, probably.

“It means moonlight. Which… reminds me of you.”

If you weren’t so exhausted, you would have noticed the way he nervously fumbled for the door and you also would have noticed his small stumble out into the hallway.

–

The lights blared across your vision and the bass of the music pounded from your stomach, all the way down to your ears which only worsened your growing headache. You dreaded this party. But, no matter how many times you complained about it, it happened every single year. Annually, it was a good luck party for those performing at the recital.

You didn’t want to go and you usually never did. But since that solo was meant for the recital, you had forced yourself to dress up and finally open that party invitation with the gold lettering.

You kept to yourself, occasionally waving at fellow dancers and friends. But even while there was a particular amount (read: a lot) of people questioning you about your performance and whether you were dating a famous celebrity (you weren’t), you managed to slip away and grab a drink.

You couldn’t even tell the color of the liquid because of the bright lights flashing about. But hey, at least it tasted good. Weaving through the crowd, you were desperate to find a more secluded place. But that was when you ran into someone.

Him.

Changmin. Of course, you rolled your eyes, he would be here. He had a performance too. Which frankly, you didn’t care about. At all. 

Your eyes skimmed over him for a moment, taking in his party attire. His hair was finally styled up and you were almost jealous over how well the purple lights complimented him.

He looked at you with slight surprise before schooling his expression into something obnoxious. Or teasing. You couldn’t quite tell.

“How’s the solo going?” He spoke with an amused smile. Thankfully, the music had died down. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you had to lean even closer to him just to hear his infuriating insults.

“Amazing,” You immediately replied, maybe too fast and not very convincing. It had gone badly. Fewer mistakes but still much too many. But who were you to tell him that? Not when he would use that as his new monthly taunt. And out of sheer politeness, you smiled disdainfully. “Are you performing?” 

He raised an eyebrow at your obviously faked, higher-pitched voice.

“Drop the formalities.” He shook his head. “But yeah and it’s going to be better than yours. Though, I’m missing a dance partner.”

“A duet?” You tilted your head in confusion.

He nodded, a small, amused smile appearing on his lips. “Why, desperate to sign up?”

“No,” You retorted, scoffing. “Why would I ever want to dance with you?”

He simply shrugged with a smile, which only infuriated you more. With a huff, you stepped forward, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I hope you know that dancing with you is like stepping on a piece of dog sh–” You were interrupted. By your own yelp of all things. It was a common occurrence that when interacting with Changmin, you often forgot your surroundings. It was like this cloud of anger engulfed you constantly.

For example, right now, you completely forgot that you were at a party.

A guy dancing, probably having the time of his life, suddenly bumped into you, causing you to stumble over your own feet. At that point, you sort of just gave up, choosing to accept the embarrassment. But, that was when you felt a hand rush to your side to steady you.

It only briefly brushed against your waist but it sent sparks down your whole spine. Inhaling sharply, you snapped your head to look at Changmin.

“What are you doing?” You hissed.

“What?” He stared at you. “Nothing.”

“You touched me,” You spoke in utter disbelief. The feeling of his fingertips just merely grazing you left you stuttering and you weren’t quite sure why.

“So you don’t fall flat on your face,” He muttered, leaning closer, right up to your ear. Immediately, you were engulfed by his cologne that… much to your demise, smelled really good. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face.”

You felt your mouth go dry and you harshly pulled away, swallowing thickly. And now, you were incredibly grateful for the bright lights of the party because you couldn’t bear for him to notice your embarrassed expression. Visibly or not, you weren’t sure. Your cheeks felt oddly warm though.

“Well, I hope you–” You cursed yourself for stumbling over your words. “I hope you ruin your… your horrific face.” God, you mentally slapped yourself.

He only grinned. And this time, his hand actually closed around your waist. At first, you thought he was teasing again but you realized that yet again, someone was going to bump into you.

“Don’t lie,” He whispered, quiet enough only for you to hear.

“I’m not.” But your voice wavered.

“Definitely.” His lips pulled up into a teasing smile–one that you couldn’t help but think was attractive–and he walked away.

With a groan, you fixed your clothes and turned around. You let out a low breath, completely overwhelmed by the sight. The crowd was larger than before and the music only increased in volume. And so, holding a hand to your chest–ignoring the weird pounding of your heartbeat from… past events–you navigated through the bout of dancing and laughing people.

At some point, you found yourself in another room, the thumping music only heard through the walls. No matter if you were one of the most popular, successful dancers of the studio, you were still closed off. Like right now, you were pretty sure your instructor would ridicule you for literally hiding behind the curtains, sipping another drink.

Leaning your head back against the wall, you allowed yourself a deep breath as you tried to forget everything. The struggle of your dance routine, the immense and loud party, him and his stupid playful smile. 

But of course, that same him happened to pop up again. But this time, he was with Juyeon. Juyeon was a sweet man and you didn’t mind conversing with him. You had seen the way he danced powerfully yet gracefully at the same time despite his long limbs. His only flaw was that he was friends with… him.

“You still haven’t found a partner?” In the corner of your eye, they walked by, causing you to hide further.

Changmin sighed. “I’m trying.”

“What about Y/n?” Juyeon asked, nudging him with a small smile. “They seem suitable. Beautiful too.”

Your rival paused in his tracks, turning to Juyeon with an unimpressed look.

“Beautiful, but completely intolerable.”

It took all of your willpower not to jump out and throw your glass cup straight into your face. You were about to be flattered, maybe even confront him and tease him for calling you beautiful. But to counter that right after with intolerable?

You hated him.

–

The party was slowly dying down, now reduced to slow music for those couples who kissed in the hallways. You would think they stopped that after high school but apparently they still do so now. You were sure you looked like a mess but you couldn’t care less as you spotted Changmin in the background, leaning against the wall and simply observing the crowd.

Approaching him, you stood next to him. He only regarded you with a glance.

“What about her?” You spoke up, gesturing to a girl. She was talented, most definitely. You’d seen her do all sorts of dances, specializing in the art of tango which you admired.

“Helping me now?” He muttered.

You ignored his question, choosing to stare ahead. With a sigh, he shook his head.

“Her style is completely different from mine. So no.”

“That’s what you look for?” You scrunched up your face. “You know it’s boring when your styles are exactly the same.”

He turned to you and you tried to ignore the fact that when his hair was slightly disheveled and the top few buttons of his shirt undone, he didn’t look half bad. Still, his looks didn’t quite fit his irritating personality.

“Then what should I look for in a dance partner?” He looked at you, bored.

You thought for a moment. And then you let your hand trail down to his sleeve. Grasping the fabric, you pulled him closer.

“Someone who compliments your own dancing,” You whispered. He stared down at you in surprise. This time, his expression wasn’t an act to make you annoyed. His wide eyes, lips parted… were all real as his gaze traveled across your features, gulping nervously. “Even if…” You paused, marveling in the way his cheeks flushed under the party lighting. “They’re completely intolerable.”

He inhaled, about to walk forward. “Y/n–”

But you were already stepping away, creating that distance that you were most familiar with.

–

Often, dance played out in steps. One-two, one-two-three, et cetera, et cetera. The wave of your arms and the placement of your feet moved in these rhythmical steps. Or at least, you tried to get them to move in the right rhythm. It seemed that the only thing that was on time was the fast pace of your breath.

Breathing heavily, you stood up to face your three evaluators. Two of them had a somewhat satisfied look on their face, barely writing anything on their clipboards. But one… her. You grimaced, remembering the sight of her constantly picking up her pen in the middle of your routine, even frowning and shaking her head.

Your hair was messy and probably damp with sweat from the vigorous evaluation but you still stood tall. Up until that one word, that left everything crashing down on you.

“Out.”

Stricken, you turned to face your own instructor. 

“What?” You stuttered.

She stabbed her clipboard with the pen, tip down. “I said, you’re out,” She spoke in an obnoxiously calm voice. “I already found someone else to take your spot the other day.”

“But I–” You sighed in frustration, stepping forward, ignoring the searing pain of your joints from all the constant practicing that resulted in absolutely nothing. “I tried so hard for this. You taught me this solo, how could you–”

“I’m sorry,” She interrupted firmly. “Next time, Y/n.”

You watched each of them. There was some sense of remorse behind their expression but you could see something else. Something that pertained to… greed, money. You always knew that this dance studio–with its esteem and popularity–always would have those people who bought their way in. Those people who wanted your solo so badly that they obtained it with a simple check from their bank.

But you couldn’t change anything about that. So, with a deep breath–one that was concerningly shaky–you stepped backwards to the door.

“Fine,” You muttered. “It’s fine.”

Before you could even register it yourself, you were running out the door, the sound of it slamming behind you. Again, like those rhythmical steps, you tried to breathe in and out, tried to compose yourself. But, as soon as you turned the corner, away from any watchful eyes, you found yourself sliding down the wall. 

Bringing your knees up to your chest, you buried your face in your arms, allowing a few tears to slip. It was refreshing, really. You were always expected to be the perfect, most graceful dancer of the studio. But sometimes, it was hard to keep that up.

You let yourself relax, sniffling occasionally as you remembered all the hard work that turned into pointless frowns, sighs, and pen-writing. But then the sound of footsteps approached you. Still, you didn’t bother to look up.

“How’s the solo going?” A familiar, dreadful voice. You felt the warmth of a shoulder bump against yours as the person sat down next to you. Even through your muted ears, you could hear the thump of his head as he set it back against the wall.

With an exhausted exhale, you looked up, only to come face-to-face with Changmin. You already knew it was him but just the sight of your rival still brought you a scowl as you looked back down into your lap.

“Is that the only way to start your conversations?” You spoke softly.

He only stared at you wordlessly. You could feel his eyes on you, studying the tears that trailed down your face.

At his lack of response, you groaned. “It went horrible. I lost it. Happy now?” You bitterly smiled, wiping at your cheeks harshly, wincing at the burn of the fabric of your sleeves. When you turned to face him again, you realized that his face had fallen. 

“You… lost it?” He asked quietly.

You forced a roll of your eyes. Though, you knew it was useless to try to pretend that you felt perfectly content with this.

“Yes,” You breathed with frustration. “Yes, I did. So go. Laugh in my face and leave.”

But you didn’t hear a single huff of amusement. It was completely silent. Except for the shifting of clothes–the shifting of him moving closer to you. Now, his whole side was pressed to yours and again, you were reminded of how nice he smelled.

“I won’t laugh,” He whispered.

“Okay then.” You glanced at him briefly. “Fine. What are you doing here then?”

He turned to you slightly and you flinched when you saw his hand lifting up towards your face. You stayed frozen once you realized that he was picking up a thread of fabric stuck in your hair. Probably from your constant rubbing of your tears.

“Small talk,” He eventually replied, his voice surprisingly soft and… gentle.

You snorted, slapping his hand away. “With your rival?”

“Best to learn your enemies,” He humorously responded.

And even with your tears drying on your skin, you laughed. It was quiet, slightly weak from emotions of failure. But you still laughed. Because of Changmin of all people. With a sigh, you patted at the drying tears.

“God, I probably look like a mess.”

“You don’t.”

You turned to him in slight surprise before narrowing your eyes. “How can I trust you?”

“Just do.” He smiled. 

You hummed, shutting your eyes with exhaustion. “Then I’ll take your word for it.”

“It’s quite the opposite actually,” He continued. Perking up, you grinned playfully at him. 

“And what do you mean by that? What’s the opposite of looking like a mess?” 

“Looking…” His voice was barely a whisper now. “Looking pretty.”

Your breath hitched at his words. You didn’t know what you were expecting but you weren’t expecting that. But again, he was your rival. He was probably just teasing you.

“Are you saying I’m a pretty crier?”

He paused. And finally, without any dark rooms or party lighting, you could see the flush on his cheeks. “No comment?”

You laughed softly. But your content expression quickly turned into a small frown. “Shouldn’t you be practicing right now? You have a performance for the recital.”

He never answered your question. Instead, he looked down to where your hands and elbows were bruised from constant practice. Then he faced you with an incomprehensible look in his face.

“But you’re not performing at all?” He asked instead. 

Biting the inside of your cheeks to keep the tears from bursting out of your eyes again, you shook your head. 

He grew quiet again. You always hated how hard it was to decipher Changmin. He often trailed off and wouldn’t say anything, leaving you to decide if he was either going to throw another insult at you or finally leave you alone.

With an annoyed huff, you finally asked him, “What’re you planning?”

“Nothing.” He faked a smile. “I’ll… see you around?”

You stood up, your legs wobbly from the drained feeling after you poured out all of your emotions in the span of a few minutes. “Not for a while,” You sourly remarked. “I’m useless now. See you in two months.”

He tilted his head, his faux smile turning into an amused, almost mischievous one. “See you tomorrow.”

You were never one to question his odd responses. He just got the time wrong. That’s all.

—

You watched numbly as your ballet shoes tumbled to the floor. With a clenched jaw, you reached down to pick it up and shove it into your bag before turning back to your half-empty locker.

As you stood there, contemplating if you needed to bring home any of this stuff since you weren’t going to be dancing for a while anyway, your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Looking up, there was a woman poking her head in.

“Y/n?” She looked straight at you. 

“Me?” You pointed at yourself in disbelief. For a second, a spark of hope appeared in the depths of your heart. But it quickly flickered away. Maybe she was about to shove it in your face that you weren’t supposed to be here today. Which, you weren’t. But, you just needed to pack up some of your belongings.

“Y/n.” She smiled in strange relief. As if she was searching for you for a while. “You’re needed in the practice room.”

When you only stared at her in utter confusion, she laughed, completely relaxed which only caused to spiral into more perplexion.

“I forgot to mention which one! It’s the one at the end of the right hall.” 

You only raised an eyebrow at her, clutching your bag. Why was she acting so natural? As if telling you that you needed to report to practice when you were told very clearly that you were out as if that was the most normal thing in the world. 

“I don’t… I don’t have anything to perform though?” You stared at her.

She gazed back, looking at you as if you had just confessed the worst murder of all time.

“Yes you do?” She replied. “Come on. You’ll be late.”

Maybe this was all some sick joke. Still incredibly confused, you followed her out onto the hallway, all the way down to an unfamiliar practice room. This whole section was dedicated to something else. Something that wasn’t… ballet or contemporary.

She gestured for you to open the door. Looking at her with a bored expression, you pushed the door open and in just a split second, you were gaping at the person who stood at the doorway.

Oh my god. 

Your hand tightened around the doorknob, threatening to slam the door closed in hopes that this was all a bad dream. But the door refused to budge. 

Changmin. Changmin had placed his foot down to stop it from moving an inch. He tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He looked at you completely seriously. Which you hated. Because you had really hoped this was all a joke.

“What are you doing here?” You still attempted to shut the door. But he still held it open.

But suddenly, another man appeared. You didn’t recognize him but you assumed he was Changmin’s own dance instructor. He had on a bright, enthusiastic smile, much unalike to your own who constantly had a stern, disappointed frown.

“Y/n!” He spoke marvelously. “Splendid choice, ‘min.”

Changmin only glanced at you, slightly sheepishly and with his ears were tinted red. He quickly recovered though which made you wonder why he was shy in the first place.

“Surprise surprise?” He smugly grinned.

You were absolutely speechless, unable to say anything. All you could do was stare—gape at him with a dropped jaw.

“What?” You blurted out.

Changmin almost laughed at your reaction. But still, he led you out to the hallway. Hopefully for some sort of explanation.

“You’re my new dance partner.”

Okay, that wasn’t the explanation that you wanted.

“You’re what?” You practically exclaimed.

“You heard me,” He whispered. His eyes darted to the practice room briefly. “He’ll be teaching you the moves for the first few days and then we’ll practice together,” He explained in a completely calm voice.

What was up with everyone and acting completely natural in such an absurd situation?”

“Are we not going to talk about the fact that you chose me to be your dance partner,” You deadpanned. “We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“Then still do,” He sighed. “But trust me on this.” He stepped closer and in the corner of your eye, you could see his hand twitch—almost like he was going to grab yours.

“How many times will you ask me to trust you?” You asked quietly. “That’s not very easy, especially after you’ve practically insulted me all these years.”

“I know, and I’m—“ The apology that threatened to escape his lips was interrupted by the door opening. His instructor poked a head out with an excited smile.

“What’s taking you lovebirds so long?” He wiggled his eyebrows. And now that you looked closely, you could read his ID card that read, “Eric.” He looked oddly young to be an instructor but you didn’t question it, too focused on the fact that you now had to dance with your one and only rival.

Changmin scowled. “Give us a minute won’t you? I’m still older than you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He sighed before disappearing back into the room.

Changmin turned back to you, looking at you with soft eyes that only caused your stomach to twist even more.

“Yesterday,” He breathed. “You looked…”

“Like shit? I know,” You snapped.

“No! You—“ He groaned. “I can’t explain it right now. But Y/n.” Again, his hand twitched to hold yours.

“What?” Your voice was meek. Why were you suddenly so nervous?

“I’m not blind to see that you’re talented. And who was it who told me that I should find someone who complimented my dancing?” He paused and winced sheepishly. “Even if completely intolerable.”

“You think that I compliment your dancing?” You whispered. “But we never danced together before.”

“All the more reason to test it out?” He gave you an unsure smile.

You bit your lip, completely conflicted.

“Changmin… I don’t know.”

He looked at you, his gaze gentle. “If you want to back out, that’s fine. I just—“ His cheeks were flushed again, a pretty pink. Pretty? “I wanted to do something. For you.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any spark of amusement. But, he still looked back at you earnestly.

“Aren’t we rivals?” You asked again.

“Are we?” He simply replied, never providing you with an actual answer.

“We are,” You breathed out, but the way your voice trembled slightly wasn’t very convincing. 

“Whatever you want,” He whispered. “So what do you say, dear rival?” The way he said the last word wasn’t convincing either. None of this was convincing.

You sighed, defeated and unable to find a reason to say no. Hanging your head low, you noticed the way his hand ghosted over yours. Was it there all that time?

“Fine,” You muttered. “But don’t expect much.”

He hummed teasingly. “I expect a lot from someone as talented as you.”

And much to your horror, you felt yourself blush. Shoving him with an annoyed (embarrassed) scowl, you stepped away, finally noticing just how close he was to you.

“Shut up,” You said. “Let’s keep this completely professional.”

“Whatever you want,” He repeated, smiling softly.

—

You hated to admit it but the duet was fun. It was so unlike what you usually learned. You were used to the perfectly practiced poses, the straightened back, and the straining of all your limbs to get that pristine, elegant image that you were supposed to keep up. But this dance… was more freeing. It had a romantic aspect to it but it was fun and energetic while still telling a story through the choreography. 

A love story of all things.

However, you did notice that it was hard to learn the dance alone. Even if you asked Eric to dance in place as Changmin temporarily, he would refuse, saying it would ruin the “chemistry” between you two.

What chemistry? There was none. You were sure of that. 

But even the voice in your head wavered over that statement.

Now, the time that you dreaded has arrived. The one when you would actually have to practice the choreography with your dance partner.

To say it was awkward was an understatement. It was appallingly difficult.

The two of you wouldn’t stop bickering. It wasn’t really Changmin correcting your dance like you had thought. It was just… bickering.

“What if I stepped on your foot right now?” You grinned.

“Don’t,” He groaned. “It already hurts.”

“But it would be funny.”

“My ankle is twisted,” He replied with a frown, grimacing.

Immediately you were widening your eyes and stepping forward. You didn’t even notice that you were looking him over with worry.

“It is?” And just like he had done before, your hand ghosted over his. “Why didn’t you get it checked? You should be resti—“

Except he only regarded you with a smug smile.

“Is someone worried for me?”

You stared at him, your mouth agape. And then you grumbled, stepping away, only to feel a spark through your wrist where it brushed against his knuckles.

“Your ankle isn’t twisted,” You gritted out.

He grinned wider. “It’s not but I appreciate your worry anyway.”

“I was not worrying,” You muttered, looking away.

He huffed. “And my name isn’t Changmin.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Get what over with?”

“This… move,” You mumbled, letting your eyes travel down to his hand. What was up with you and his hands? You didn’t know either.

And by this move, you meant the move where the two of you would have to hold hands and he would twirl you and pull you close, and— you hated everything about it.

“Don’t we just—“ He was the one who took the lead, guiding your hand gently to his. But he paused in his tracks once he felt your pinky link with his. And like he was electrocuted, he pulled his hand back.

You held back a smile, finding this awkwardness all too painfully amusing. 

“Do we intertwine the fingers or…” He trailed off.

“Or just hold palms?” You offered, cringing at how warm your face felt at the moment.

“No, we’re supposed to—“ He reached forward, grabbing your hand in an odd way, his fingers hilariously stiff.

“Ah,” You whined. “It feels weird.”

He huffed, his ears red. “Of course it does. We never…”

If Eric was monitoring the two of you right now—which he said he would in an hour or two—he would have bursted out laughing at the sight. The both of you facing each other, hands fumbling with frustrated faces—one would think you were playing a game of rock, paper, scissors.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, staring at the way he just poked one finger into your palm.

“What are you doing?” He whispered back, glaring at the way your fingers closed around his ring finger.

“I can’t—“ You groaned. “I can’t do this with you.”

“You have to. Just—“ And like a leap of faith, he finally reached forward properly and grabbed your hand in his. After all those instances of your hands merely hovering, it felt almost… nice to feel his warm skin properly. His hand was comforting and you watched with wide eyes at the way he so naturally intertwined his fingers with yours.

Your breath was caught in your throat and you observed silently as he brought your connected hands up to his chest, holding it close. He looked up at you, his gaze softening.

“Like this?” He whispered.

“Yes,” You replied, almost breathlessly.

He gave you a small smirk. “Then focus.” 

And without a warning, he brought your hand up and twirled you around. You stumbled slightly but managed to gain your balance as he pulled you in, right up to his chest. Instead of just your hands, it was your whole body against him.

“See?” He smiled down at you, slightly out of breath. “Wasn’t so bad right?”

“Professional,” You breathed out. “It’s because I’m being professional.”

“Mhm,” He eyed you teasingly. His eyes trailed down. “Do professionals still hold hands even after practice is done?”

You gasped quietly, embarrassment flooding through you.

“Oh, I—” You tried to pull your hand out of his grasp but he only tightened further, keeping your hand in his. His hold was gentle and warm, which put a funny feeling in your chest. You narrowed your eyes. “Changmin,” You warned.

“It’s comfortable,” He murmured and before you could protest, he was bringing your hand up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

Your breath hitched in your throat. “You’re so annoying.” You glared.

He only pressed another kiss as a response, leaving you stuttering.

–

Another thing you hated to admit: you had grown closer to Changmin. Blah blah, you’re still rivals of course. Just maybe… with more smiles and friendly remarks. That’s normal, isn’t it? For enemies?

The dance routine drastically improved. The two of you were comfortable with holding hands now, moving past each other with fleeting touches. It became almost natural. But then again, that was just what happened when you were being professional. Obviously.

But still, nothing could compare to the growth of your relationship with him. You didn’t hate it. It felt nice to have someone who understood you. You learned more about him as a person. You learned that he was always exhausted after dancing and then learned that he often forgot to eat anything after practice. They go hand-in-hand. So it became–much to your disliking–your job to bring him a small snack every day so that he wouldn’t faint. 

He learned more about you as a person too. He learned that you weren’t used to freestyling or experimenting since you were so trained to have a picture-perfect image. When he learned that, it became–much to his… liking–his job to make you laugh and relax whenever you got too caught up in your internal expectations.

He wasn’t so bad after all. 

He was still annoying though. Just like right now.

“Just once,” He pleaded. “Try it.”

“I’m not– used to the choreography being changed. Or anything being changed.” You gave him a nervous look, your fingers fidgeting restlessly. “And you know that.” Your voice quietened as all the memories of people criticizing you came rushing through. 

His gaze softened as he studied your anxious-ridden features. “I do know that. But that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

You looked at him skeptically. “I’m not like you.”

“You’re not,” He agreed. “You’re you. And that’s what I find amazing.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “That’s not–”

He shook his head, taking a step forward. He opened his mouth to speak but you shushed him with a simple glare.

“And don’t you dare ask me to trust you,” You ridiculed. 

He gave you an amused smile. “How’d you predict that?”

“Because you’ve asked me plenty of times,” You deadpanned.

“Ah…” He grinned. “You’re right. And every time I do, you reply that you don’t.”

You grew silent at that. And then you let your eyes trail down, away from his gaze. You noticed that whenever you did so, he never let his own eyes wander. They were always on you. Across the room, the hallway, even when you were sitting right in front of him.

With a deep breath, your cheeks beginning to flush already, you spoke something so quietly that he had to lean in to hear.

“I trust you now though.”

You heard his breath hitch, causing you to look up into his eyes. And were his eyes always so… bright and sparkly?

“You trust me?” He whispered.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“If we weren’t so short on time, I would.” He smiled. He reached down and like it was the most common occurrence, he took your hand in his, leading you to the middle of the room. “Then, if you trust me, won’t you do the thing?”

“What thing?”

“That thing.”

You stared at him, trying to feign innocence so that you could somehow get out of it. But he only looked at you, almost challenging you with his gaze.

Eventually, you groaned in defeat. “Fine,” You grumbled.

The next move, which the two of you had already perfected, was a simple touch on the waist and that was it. But Changmin just had to come up with a new idea. He insisted on a dip. The type of dip that was reserved for people who were actually in love and… had feelings for each other. Which, the two of you definitely didn’t fit in that type of category. Professional dancers was all.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” You spoke over the music. 

He smiled charmingly. “Just enjoy the moment. It will.”

And so, holding your breath, you approached him. His hand automatically came to your waist, just like it had in the original move. But then, he slowly, guided you so that you were leaning backward. Feeling yourself grow warm over his gentle touch that held you steady so that you wouldn’t fall, you allowed yourself to fall. Literally, into his arms. 

After the count was over, he gently brought you back to stand up. And yet another thing that you hated to admit: that new dance move left your heart pounding. And it wasn’t from exhilaration. 

You were breathless as you stared at him in shock. It all came rushing to you. The small details–the softness of his eyes, the hands that held onto your waist tightly but never enough to hurt, the small smile on his lips when he probably noticed that you had blushed.

A quiet “oh” was all you could muster.

He gave you a soft smile. You noticed that was the only thing he regarded you with these days. Occasionally, it would be his usual, teasing, mocking smile. But recently, it’s just been that one that left your hands feeling sweaty.

“And if I said I told you so?” 

“Don’t,” You scowled.

But he only leaned closer. You weren’t even doing the move again yet his hand still found its place on your lower back again. And like you were in a trance, your eyes fluttered as you drew closer to him. You looked straight into his eyes, only for you to realize that he wasn’t returning that same eye contact. Instead, his gaze flickered down to your lips. You sputtered and your hands flew to his chest, trying to create more distance.

“Don’t get too carried away,” You murmured.

“I wasn’t,” He whispered. “It was you who was leaning closer.”

“No,” You breathed. “It was you.”

He watched you fondly. Of course, he would notice the way you stumbled over your words.

“Maybe it was the both of us.”

—

One would think that after the routine was perfected—which it was—the two of you would be off to perform it, get those congratulatory flowers, and be off. But no. There was always that extra step of the stage rehearsal.

It was the one where you had to practice the routine on the actual stage, in front of two people: Changmin’s instructor Eric, and your instructor. You haven’t seen her since she kicked you off, so you couldn’t help your eyes from darting to her ever-growing sneer.

You always despised this part, mostly because it was nerve-wracking. Even though there were only two people in the audience, the spotlights, and the music blaring through the speakers made it all feel real.

It didn’t help that your instructor kept writing things in her clipboard. And it was only when you were in the center. For heaven’s sake, Eric didn’t even own a clipboard.

“You’re shaking,” A deeper voice whispered.

You blinked and turned to where Changmin was standing in front of you. It was no use hiding anything from him. It was almost like he could read you like a book.

You shook your head, pulling him into position. But, it was hard as it was him facing away from the crowd while you… you had to face the audience—more specifically, your instructor.

“I’m just tired,” You whispered as your eyes glanced down. Eric was smiling softly while she picked up her pen, leaving your heart pounding. Changmin turned to look at you briefly and you could feel his gaze, focused on how you fidgeted nervously.

“I tried to tell her that she didn’t need to come to the rehearsal,” He muttered back, his hand coming up to your waist just like the choreography asked. “But she insisted.”

You hummed. “I wonder why.”

“Ignore her,” He replied, guiding your hand up to his shoulder. Just like the choreography asked.

“I can’t,” You whispered, your voice almost pleading. “She’s looking at me.”

Suddenly, you felt his hand close around your waist tightly as he shifted the position. You watched, bewildered once you realized that even though his back was still to the crowd, he was shielding you with his body. Away from prying eyes, away from anyone who would make you nervous, he stood in front of you, his arm protectively around your body.

This was not the choreography. This wasn’t what it asked. Yet it made you feel that smallest bit of solace that you needed all this time.

“Better?” He spoke in a hushed tone, giving you a reassuring smile.

Unable to do or say anything, you only looked at him with flushed cheeks before nodding quietly.

He only continued to follow your features with his soft gaze. He never attempted to make you move, knowing that you were still nervous, your hand on his shoulder tightening in intervals whenever you remembered that you were still being watched. Instead, he just stayed put, watching you and making sure you were okay.

Alarms blared in your ears, telling you that you needed to start dancing or else you would be scolded. But, with Changmin’s hand closed around your waist, you couldn’t help but melt. You were sure that the two instructors were watching–probably extremely confused, but you were more focused on someone else. Changmin–whose body shielded you from the blinding stage lights and whose eyes scanned over you attentively.

“Thank you,” was what you could finally muster up with a soft voice.

He gave you a small tilt of his head, accompanied by a lilt of his lips. 

“Of course,” He replied. “Take your time. Whenever you’re ready.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head with a growing smile. “They’re waiting.”

“So let them wait.”

Your shoulders shook with a silent laugh. You were about to joke about how endearing he looked when protective but you stopped for two reasons. One–you were supposed to be rivals and that wouldn’t be a very rival-y thing to say. Two–Eric spoke up, his loud voice echoing through the concert hall.

“Alright,” He yelled, his voice laced with a teasing tone. “Lovebirds, let’s take five!”

Clearing your throat, your cheeks flaming, you pulled away from his hold. You didn’t notice Changmin staring after you longingly.

–

The five-minute break came and went a bit too quickly for your liking. Luckily, Eric had somehow convinced your instructor to take a lunch break. As you were fixing up the laces of your shoes, he approached you with a kind smile.

“She’s all done and taken care of,” The younger man joked, brushing off his shoulder comically. You smiled in relief. And then he sat down next to you. “Listen. On the agenda, I’m supposed to evaluate each of you individually, to make sure everything’s down and ready. So, during her lunch break, let’s get that done. Yeah?”

You nodded and stood up, approaching the stage. Oh, but you hated how steep the stairs were. Trying not to stumble, you took the first step. You were about to take the second when you felt another presence behind you. You hated how you could recognize him immediately.

You felt Changmin’s hand, gently take yours as he helped you up the stairs. When finally up on the stage, you turned around to tease him about being such a gentleman. But, his back was already turned, walking away.

But when you narrowed your eyes and looked closely, you could see his hand flex. Almost like he was embarrassed and… nervous after helping you up on the stage.

You caught yourself smiling, your heart blooming into something new. Except, you weren’t quite sure if it actually was new.

But Eric’s voice caught you off guard, shaking you out of your little trance.

“What’s so amusing?” He grinned.

You shook your head, biting back a shy smile. “Nothing.”

–

“How’s it feel? Your stylist looked you over, even giving you jazz hands to help you cheer up. Dress rehearsal–literally meant that you had to wear your performance outfit even when the audience was practically empty. 

You scrunched your face up in discomfort, looking at yourself in the mirror. You had to admit, it was a pretty look. It incorporated various little details of what you were most familiar with, ballet. It was a graceful, flowy outfit but there was something different about it. There were other… parts to it. Spontaneous colors and pieces stuck out, representing your dance partner.

And of course, there was romance in it. Roses specifically, delicately sewn into the fabric. And there was a bright red one, tucked behind your ear.

“It’s beautiful,” You whispered. But just at that moment, you twitched awkwardly. “A little itchy.”

Your stylist laughed, pulling at a loose seam. “It’s just one night.”

You froze, your shoulders raising. “Yeah,” You breathed. “One night.” And it would all be over. This impetuous thing. After that one night, you would be forced to go back to keeping up that image that you hated and loved at the same time. You would return to the same routine of scolding because you didn’t do well enough and the scorn looks because you couldn’t lift your leg high enough. 

And Changmin.

He would be over too. He would go his own way, dancing with experimentation and freedom. You wouldn’t see him except on your breaks which only resulted in petty arguments and glares. What would happen to those kind smiles that you would share occasionally and the fleeting touches even when you weren’t practicing the choreography? Would it all disappear?

“Is everything okay?” The stylist asked. 

You blinked and straightened up. “Great,” You said as you forced a smile. With a deep breath, you headed to the door, ready to greet Changmin who must also be dressed in his own outfit. 

As you walked onto the stage, you froze once again when you saw him standing in front of you, a sheepish smile on his lips. 

“Hi,” You whispered, looking him over. Oh, you hated it. You hated everything–how he looked charming with his hair so meticulously styled, how the flowy, white shirt hugged his shoulders and waist so perfectly, how his eyes naturally sparkled, even when the stage lights were off.

“Hey, you.” He grinned. And you hated how his gaze traveled over you slowly, taking in the sight. Suddenly, you felt the urge to wrap your arms over yourself.

You gave him a small laugh, stepping forward. There was no one else in the concert hall right now. Eric and the director of the recital must be running late. And yes, somehow, Changmin managed to keep your instructor from coming back in the meantime. It was just the two of you, standing in the middle of the stage, unlit but bright enough to emphasize both of your shy smiles.

You hated him. 

But… his smile and his soft gaze. It was all too hard to resist.

Clearing your throat, you played with the hem of your clothes. “What do you…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to stumble over your words nervously. “What do you think?” You looked at him expectantly. He only stared at you wordlessly, which only furthered your anxiousness. Forcing a roll of your eyes, trying to act natural, you shifted on your feet and avoided his watchful gaze. “And don’t say I look bad because I’m sure that–”

“You look pretty.”

You inhaled sharply, whipping your head to look at him again. His smile looked almost fond and he never seemed to take his eyes off you. Instead, he only leaned closer, bending his head forward to observe the rose tucked behind your ear.

“Very pretty,” He whispered. You could only stay there, completely rigid as you felt his hand come up to the side of your face to adjust that same rose, his touch light and gentle. 

“Oh,” You finally breathed out. “Thank you.” You cursed at yourself for lowering your voice from embarrassment. It only made him lean closer to hear you.

And it seemed that Eric had burst through the doors, only to witness the two of you stupidly smiling at each other.

–

Just like you had expected, Eric and the director watched your routine. Over and over, you had to perform it so that they would catch any mistakes. By the fifth time, the two of you were practically gasping for air.

“One more time?” Eric suggested, looking at you with pity once he noticed you almost fall over from exhaustion if it wasn’t for Changmin who steadied you with a simple touch on your waist.

But then, the director stepped forward. “Actually,” She spoke up. “I think that we just have to get the ending right.”

You glanced at Changmin, only for him to do the same. Just like your brief glances, the position at the very end of the performance was always awkward. The two of you could never quite get it down.

Since the dance was more on the… romantic side, you were expected to face each other, hands intertwined and held close to your chests. And Eric had especially emphasized staring very deeply into your eyes, much to your dismay. Oh and to stand very close–so close that you were practically kissing.

But, you always refused. Changmin as well. You would take a step back and he would hold your hand a bit further away from his chest, creating an odd-looking distance.

So that was what you did. Which, didn’t seem to satisfy the director at all.

“That’s all you can do?” She questioned, leaning forward in her chair. “Put more into it!”

You bit your lip nervously, taking a half-step closer.

“More!” She exclaimed, causing Eric to laugh evilly.

Changmin glared at them playfully before yanking you forward, right up against his chest. You sputtered, looking at him in surprise. He gave you a small, soft smile, though there was still a hint of teasing behind his eyes.

The director stayed silent and for a moment, you thought that she was satisfied enough. But then, she slammed her hand down. “More! You can do better than that!”

Your palms were practically sweating from how long you were holding hands and your face also felt incredibly hot from how close his lips were to yours. But still, with a sigh, you shuffled ever so closer, until the front of your shoes were touching. Changmin simply watched you with gentle eyes.

“Mor–”

Eric groaned, and you could see him standing up in protest in his peripheral view. He threw his hand out to the stage. “Is this not close enough?”

The director snickered. “Oh, definitely. I just wanted to see how close they willingly would get.”

Immediately, the two of you were blushing. But still, Changmin didn’t make a move to step backward and away from you. And so, you gulped, choosing to avoid his gaze.

“On second thought,” Eric called out. “You’re kind of off-center… if you guys could move to the right a bit?”

After this, you would be done. You would perform the routine on the recital night and this would all be over. Except, you weren’t too sure if you wanted it to be over. You were still deciding on that. When you looked up into Changmin’s eyes, you found that invisible weight–the one that leaned to you wanting this to last forever–to become heavier and heavier.

Ignoring your rushing thoughts, you shuffled to the right, your hands still grasping his. He shuffled along with you, taking mini-steps backward until you reached the tape on the floor that signaled the center.

You stared at Changmin, eyes sparkling as he did the same. And then, you found yourself laughing. Laughing for what? You weren’t sure, but you felt like you were brimming with joy. The awkward shuffling to get to the center, the warm hands intertwined with yours, the surprised yet oddly fond look on his face when you giggled–you couldn’t help but just… feel a certain emotion. You weren’t sure what. Was it relaxation or something else?

He looked at you, his own smile growing on his lips. And then he joined in on you with the laughing, leaning closer to hide his face in your neck.

And yes, you were still in that same ending position. Except, it wasn’t awkward anymore.

“I envy you,” The director sighed, dramatically falling back into her chair. “You have such heart-pounding, romantic chemistry!’

The both of you froze and turned to her in panic.

“Oh, no–” You rushed to say, only to be cut off by Changmin who was also panicking.

“We’re not like–”

Eric only raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “You cannot be that blind,” He deadpanned. “Just look in front of you.”

When you looked back into Changmin’s eyes, you not only saw it–the eyes that you dreamed about more often and the lips that you sometimes wondered how they tasted–but you could feel the now familiar pounding in your heart. You wondered if he felt the same.

–

On the night before the performance, you found yourself sitting on a bench outside of the dance studio. The crickets were chirping, keeping you from being completely alone with your thoughts. You tried to count the stars or the cars that passed by, but it was of no use, as all you could think of were the endless possibilities of the recital going completely wrong.

But your ears picked up the sound of someone’s footsteps, slightly kicking at the concrete. And then he sat next to you. Changmin. It was always him. And for some reason, you found his warmth almost comforting–something that melted away the rigid clasp around your nerves.

“Okay?” He asked, his tone quiet to match the atmosphere of the calm night that differed from your tight chest.

“Yeah,” You whispered, turning to him. He wasn’t looking. Maybe he was trying to count the stars too. “Just…” You sighed, embarrassed. “Nervous.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled as he turned to face you. “You’re amazing.”

“I’m…” You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows.

“What?” He widened his eyes cutely. “You don’t think so? Though,” He laughed briefly. “Better than me? Probably no–”

“No,” You blurted out, catching him off guard. “I’m just–” You exhaled with frustration and confusion. “Why are you so nice to me? I thought we were…” You trailed off then, choosing to turn back to the twinkling stars. Yet they only reminded you of his eyes.

“Rivals? We still are,” He joked. 

You could only give him a weak laugh in response. He looked at you cautiously before turning his gaze down to his lap where his fingers were fidgeting nervously.

“But as for caring for you…” He spoke quietly. “Take a wild guess.”

You looked at him, trying to decipher his strange behavior. But, all you could get from your observations was that his cheeks and ears were oddly red. 

“Because…” You thought for a moment. “If you weren’t you would be kicked off the team?”

He gave you a small smile but shook his head. 

“Because you’re in a particularly good mood?”

“No,” He breathed out.

And you knew that there was one more reason. But you were terrified to say it. You didn’t know why but it was just… frightening. But, when he only gazed at you expectantly, you knew that you were being forced to say it.

“Because you…” Your voice quietened, but you knew that Changmin could see the way your mouth formed the word ‘like.’ Slowly, your voice grew in volume to finish the question. “...me?”

And what was even more terrifying was that he nodded wordlessly. Or was it thrilling? You couldn’t tell. But all you knew was that your heart was beating fast again. And it was all for a different reason.

“Changmin,” You whispered, too shocked to form a cohesive sentence. “I–”

“I do,” He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for an answer. “It’s because I like you.”

And it hit you like the spot lights did to your eyes. He would always smile at you softly, distract you whenever you were nervous, and his touches were always gentle. You thought it was just part of his demeanor but now, things were different now. He never regarded others with that affectionate smile and soft gaze. It was only when his eyes would land on you, that his expression would change into something strangely affectionate.

“I don’t know what to say,” You shakily replied, watching as he stood up from the bench. He gave you a small smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” He mumbled, about to turn away but your hands grasped onto his sleeve. 

“Wait,” You rushed to say. He turned to you, his eyes filled with hope and disappointment, all at the same time. “Changmin.”

“Hm?” 

“After this night… will we go back to the way we were?” You looked up at him. And instead of pulling his wrist out of your grasp, he reached forward, enclosing your hand in his. Your eyes flitted down to his action, breath held.

“Do you mean when I would think of you every day?” He raised an eyebrow.

You playfully slapped him. Or, at least tried to, until he tightened his hold on your hand, keeping you still.

“Don’t lie.” You rolled your eyes.

He shook his head before gently guiding you to stand up with him. You followed and then you gasped quietly when you felt a rose being tucked behind your ear, just like your stylist had done for your outfit–for your performance tomorrow.

“I’m not lying,” He whispered. “I never was.”

You swallowed thickly. “Even when you said that I remind you of… the moonlight?”

He hummed before adjusting the rose slightly so that it sat perfectly in your hair. And that was when you realized the rose was blue, rather than the classic red. You watched him curiously until he gave you a soft smile. 

He tapped the rose gently, his fingertip brushing against your ear. 

“You’re just like the moonlight.”

–

You breathed in deeply, closing your eyes until you heard the curtains rise and the shuffle of the audience, expectantly waiting for your performance. It only took you a few hours before to find out that your duet with Changmin was the most anticipated one. In fact, it was on the front page of the pamphlet and displayed brightly on one of those LED screens outside of the concert hall.

When you blinked your eyes open, you were met with millions–at least it felt like it–of faces staring back at you. Immediately, you felt the need to freeze up and forget everything that you’ve worked so hard for. But once you felt that familiar squeeze on your waist from the man who stood next to you, everything came rushing back to you.

Soon enough, the music started and like it was automatic, your head snapped up to face him. The beginning move, the one that you practiced the most unintentionally, was easy to spot the differences over the time. When you first started practicing together, he wouldn’t even look you in the eye out of arrogance.  Now, even though he still wouldn’t, you could see that it was for a different reason. He was too embarrassed to.

As you moved to the rhythm, fleeting touches on his shoulder and down his chest before breaking apart, you realized that so much has changed. The hesitant grasp on your waist was firm now–protective. 

He wasn’t always too embarrassed to look you in the eye. Sometimes, when he would pull you into his chest, he would stare so deeply that the stage lights that already felt hot, began to feel much alike to the sun. 

Sometimes, you would hear the occasional baby crying in the crowd or the applause when Changmin would do that dip that you were so adamant on not doing, only for it to be one of your favorite parts to do, but other than that, all that resonated through your ears was the beating of your heart. Partly from exhilaration and partly for someone else. Him.

You hated him, but oh, you liked him so much. 

And when the ending came and he would pull you close while intertwining his fingers with yours, you allowed yourself to fall. Maybe not physically because that wouldn’t end well on the tall stage, but in some other way. A way that signaled to him to pull you so close and for him to lean down so that his lips hovered right over yours.

The music had already ended and the audience was clapping and whistling. Yet to you, it went silent. All you could hear was Changmin’s breathing against your lips and all you could see were his soft, loving eyes.

Slowly, you felt his hand let go of yours and for a second you thought that you might have gone too far. But then, you felt that same hand tighten around your waist, yanking you close enough that his bottom lip brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

There were no words spoken but the two of you immediately got the message to close your eyes and… fall once again. You leaned forward, about to press your lips to his in which he hummed softly. But then, the curtain fell with a loud thump and you broke apart. Before you could say or do anything, you were being rushed out by the staff, with only a glimpse of the longing in his face.

Your hand came up to where the rose tucked in your hair and you pulled it out. You observed the red petals, twirling the stem of it until it broke apart in your hand. You liked the blue version better.

–

Your fingers lingered over your own lips, wondering what it would feel like if you had just leaned that tiny bit closer–wondered if he would kiss back. His warm breath that fanned over and his soft, soft gaze as his eyes wandered down came rushing back until your stomach was fluttering with butterflies all over again. 

“Y/n?” One of the staff poked her head in. “The curtain call’s in five.”

“Oh, right.” You abruptly stood up, smoothing down your outfit. Your hair was down now, rid of any clips and pins. The rose was long gone. 

She ushered you to the door. “You and your partner have a separate spotlight. Since… you know,” She laughed shyly. “Everyone just loved your performance.”

You froze. “They did?”

She looked at you like you were crazy before leading you down the hallway leading to the stage. “It’s all the crowd’s been talking about! The chemistry, the romance, the love… it was all so clear. How did you do it so naturally?”

Your breath hitched, unsure yourself. “I… I guess because it was real.”

She hummed, eyeing you teasingly before gesturing to the stage. You took in a deep breath, and walked to the center of the stage. It was dark–the curtains down with only the sound of the murmuring crowd. When you looked up, you could see Changmin approaching you, a warm smile on his lips.

As he stood next to you, his hand grasped yours and he nudged you with his shoulder.

“Nervous?” He joked.

You smiled shyly. “I am actually.”

“And why’s that?” He glanced at you with bright, sparkling eyes, even without the stage lights shining on the two of you.

“Because I’m with you. You make me nervous,” You whispered. His eyes widened slightly and his hand tightened on yours.

You could hear the countdown for the curtains to pull up, but you ignored it once Changmin had leaned closer.

“Listen,” He watched you cautiously. “What we did back there… did you mea–”

“Yes,” You rushed to say. 

Before he could respond, the curtains were rising up and again, the stage lights blared in your vision. Now, you could hear the loud cheers of the audience and you were filled with that exhilarating, heart-beating feeling all over again. When you turned to Changmin, you realized that he was staring back, a dazed look in his eyes.

With a squeeze of his hand, the two of you bowed, smiling brightly. You were about to let go of his hand to wave at the crowd when suddenly, you felt him tug on your hand, hard enough that you were pulled right against his chest.

He steadied you with a hand on your waist. And in the corner of your eye, you felt something being tucked behind your ear. You couldn’t see it but you knew exactly what it was. A blue rose.

He leaned in, just like before with his lips right in front of yours. You held back a smile as you looked up into his soft eyes.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, quiet enough so that only you could hear.

“Yes.” You spoke your loudest, over the growing cheers and applause from the crowd. “This is perfect.”

He smiled before pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours. For the third time that evening, you felt butterflies in your stomach as your eyes fluttered closed. You allowed yourself to finally and completely fall into the moment—into him, into his arms, and into his love as his grip on you tightened ever so slightly so that he could move his lips comfortably against yours. 

When you pulled away, eventually interrupted by the staff gesturing to you hurriedly when you peeked an eye open, you looked up at him before bursting out into a shy smile. The cheers were even louder now, which only caused Changmin to blush a pretty pink.

–

After being led off the stage and changed out of your outfits, the two of you met at the hallway that led to the exit–away from the spotlights. It was just you now, holding his hand, swinging it shyly as you occasionally stole glances at him. 

But just before you reached the door, he was turning you around and kissing you up against a wall. You allowed him to, feeling your heart beat erratically. But then again, that was a common thing now when with him.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for the longest time,” He muttered, breaking apart with flushed cheeks.

You smiled. “How long?”

“Ever since you gave me that playful smile when you called me a piece of shit that one time.” He grinned.

You burst out laughing. “That was so long ago,” You joked. “There’s no way you– you’re serious?” Now you were gaping at him.

He nodded shyly before hiding his face in your neck. “I loved your smile. I thought you were so beautiful when I first laid eyes on you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t say I felt the same,” You muttered. “I actually despised you.”

He chuckled, pulling away to press another kiss to your lips. “Do you despise me now?”

You blushed. “No, I don–” You were cut off by another kiss and his adorable laugh. You grumbled, slapping him shyly. “I take it back. I still despise you.”

“And I’m in love with you,” He replied, playing with the rose tucked in your hair, a fond smile worn on his lips.

—

“What is this?” You giggled, approaching where he was sitting on the floor of the balcony, completely ignoring the chairs that were perfectly placed there for sitting.

You didn’t take into account that giving your boyfriend the code to your apartment door would lead to him breaking into it without permission. One time, you came home, completely exhausted from practice and he popped out of a corner to scare you for the fun of it. It ended in a lot of screams and slapping. But still, he apologized and took care of you for the rest of the evening.

The two of you did go your separate ways…in terms of dance of course. You went back to ballet and high expectations. But at least you had someone to listen to you—someone who always told you that you were doing amazing whether that be through whispered words or kisses and hugs.

He, on the other hand, continued to experiment through various dance styles. One of the recent ones that he learned was the art of tango, ironically enough. And yes, he often pressured you to practice with him. You hated to admit it, but whenever he “serenaded you with his body” (as wrong as it sounded, that’s literally what he said when he danced with you), you couldn’t help but flush slightly, especially when he would kiss you before twirling you.

All of your friends, Eric especially, were delighted to find out you were dating. According to them, you’ve been in love with him this whole time and vice versa. You couldn’t deny it.

Everyday, you fell more and more in love with him. Apart from his constant teasing, he was the sweetest boyfriend one could find. He supported you in all of your endeavors, pressing kisses all over your face while whispering “I’m so proud of you.” Even when you insisted that it was corny, you secretly loved it.

And just now, you walked in on him setting up a picnic on your own balcony. Candles were lit and it seemed that he even cooked for you.

He gave you an adorably warm smile.

“To celebrate your special solo performance coming up, I present to you a coupon for a free date with me.” He grinned, gesturing for you to sit down.

You laughed bashfully, kneeling down in front of him. Like usual, he greeted you with a kiss.

“Are you saying I have to pay for every other date?”

“My love is priceless.”

“Fine,” You huffed playfully. “Let’s break up.”

He gasped. “You would never.”

“You know I wouldn’t.” You scrunched your nose. He smiled in response, watching you silently. You began to grow shy, looking away to stare out at the city view. It was the evening, the street lights and the unfortunate view of small windows lit with overtime office workers twinkling. 

But you felt a gentle hand cupping the side of your face, guiding you to look back at him. Then, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he gazed at you affectionately.

“My beautiful,” He whispered, tilting his head.

Your heart thumped but you still found yourself frowning grumpily.

“Don’t call me that.”

His eyes widened slightly as he pouted. “Why not?”

“Last time you called me beautiful you said I was intolerable right after,” You grumbled.

He whined, slapping his hands over your cheeks to squish them playfully which in turn, caused you to yelp.

“You know I didn’t mean it,” He breathed. “How was I supposed to tell Juyeon that I had the biggest crush on you?”

You laughed loudly, smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt. The candles flickered before they blew out, leaving it dark enough that the only source of light was the moon.

“Then what would you like me to call you?” He asked. He glanced up at the night sky before smiling back down at you. “Moonlight?”

“Mmm…” You thought for a moment. And then you smiled shyly. “You can only call me moonlight when you feel the happiest and… the most in love.”

It took him a moment to register your words but then his eyes lit up. He scooted forward so that his lips lingered right over your forehead. And then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

“Moonlight,” He whispered.

“Oh,” You stuttered. He didn’t respond, instead, moving to press another kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Moonlight,” He muttered again, louder this time as his hand trailed down to caress your jaw.

You shut your eyes, suddenly overcome by the need to hide your face. But still, you felt his lips now hover over yours. He tilted your chin up, pulling you into the softest kiss you’ve ever experienced.

“My moonlight.”

You flushed pink, looking at him with wide eyes. “You—“

“I do feel the happiest and the most in love.” He smiled. “Right now.”

Immediately you were melting into his touch before gaining enough strength to lurch forward, throw your hands around his neck, and kiss him as much as you could. 

“Me too,” You giggled.

Even though you were expected to keep up that model image, you secretly enjoyed the beauty of letting that go for someone who saw you for who you were. He saw you without the practiced poses and faked smiles, instead choosing to love your random quirks and imperfect features.

He smiled, wrapping his arms around you.

“You are my Clair de lune.”

#deoboyznet #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #the boyz reactions #tbz fluff #the boyz x reader #tbz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz x reader #changmin x reader #changmin fluff #requests 💞 #fics 💞

[mcflymemes]

PRIDE & PREJUDICE PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the 2005 film

you must know... surely, you must know it was all for you.

are you out of your senses?

we've been nonsensical!

i have struggled in vain and i can bear it no longer.

are you rejecting me?

did i just agree to dance?

makes it all so much more enjoyable, don't you think?

you really do love him, don't you?

i appreciate the struggle you have been through, and i am very sorry to have caused you pain.

you're wasting your time with me.

count your blessings.

don't look at me like that!

only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony.

i'm very fond of walking.

no, i prefer to be unsociable and taciturn.

may i have the next dance?

these past few months have been a torment.

i wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?

my brother gave it to me.

i have never been thus treated in my entire life.

do you talk, as a rule, while dancing?

so this is your opinion of me.

i had to see you.

it's been many years since i had such an exemplary vegetable.

oh, believe me, no one would suspect your manners to be rehearsed.

i've been so blind.

i've come to tell you the news.

oh, very well then.

i must ask you to leave immediately.

you have insulted me in every possible way.

not all of us can afford to be romantic.

i could not have parted with you to anyone less worthy.

i will never see you again if you do.

he looks miserable, poor soul.

yes. a thousand times yes.

i will not and certainly never shall.

i thought that poetry was the food of love.

you are too generous to trifle with me.

all of these things i am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.

there's a lot to be thankful for.

don't you dare judge me.

i don't understand.

thank you for explaining so fully.

now tell me once and for all: are you engaged to him?

if your feelings are still what they were last april, tell me so at once.

have you no objection other than your belief in my indifference?

believe me, it was unconsciously done.

what a shame, for i dearly love to laugh.

and those are the words of a gentleman.

my affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever.

you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love... i love... i love you.

i love you.

i cannot tease you about that.

forgive me for taking up so much of your time.

how are you this evening, dear?

is this your reply?

they are far too easy to judge.

i do not have the talent of conversing easily with people i have never met before.

i thought you hated the man.

will that make you happy?

we're doing our best to find a fault in you.

i never wish to be parted from you from this day on.

i wish you would not call me "my dear."

perhaps you should take your aunt's advice and practice?

what endearments am i allowed?

please, do be seated.

one of these days, someone will catch your eye and then you'll have to watch your tongue.

people do not die of colds.

i was wrong. i was entirely wrong.

are you too proud? and would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?

this is a charming house.

i am well acquainted with you.

please do me the honor of accepting my hand.

what do you recommend to encourage affection?

what should i call you when i am cross?

are you... are you laughing at me?

i can admire you much better from here.

shall i call for some tea?

i cannot believe that anyone can deserve you.

i love you. most ardently.

good day. it's been a pleasure.

i have no idea.

did you walk here?

let us take a turn about the room.

it is a small kind of accomplishment, i suppose.

will you not join us?

i've never seen so many pretty girls in my life.

she is the most beautiful creature i have ever beheld.

why do you ask such a question?

what have you discovered?

we are all fools in love.

i have other reasons. you know i have.

i do not deny it.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #rp starters #roleplay memes #rp musings #roleplay prompt #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay inbox prompts #roleplay meme #writing prompt #askbox meme #rp asks #inbox meme #inbox prompts #inbox prompt #sentence starter #sentence starter prompt #sentence starters #mcflymemes #pride and prejudice #pride & prejudice #movies

[siflshonen]

Do you have any romance recommendations? (Books, manga, games, anything.) I'm a crotchety romance snob as well and haven't explored the genre.

My well is pretty empty for this, I must admit. But I guess... hey, you like immersive fandoms, camp, parody, and tongue-in-cheek, I hope?

While the book may be a little too dated for most widespread consumption, I will recommend almost any well-done derivative of Pride and Prejudice or Austen works in general, or even anything that involves it. Enter these with the attitude that everyone is a disaster and the work wants you to hoot and holler at it and treat it like a groundling at a Shakespeare play (that is, like a degenerate.)

Some examples include:

Pride and Prejudice 1995 adaptation - One of the main metrics I use when judging a Pride and Prejudice adaptation is the level of batshit histrionic (complimentary) Elizabeth Bennet's mother acts, and this one is a gold standard (compliments to the actress. I hated her and this is unironically the highest praise I can give in this context).

Pride and Prejudice 2005 (the one with Keira Knightley) - When I first saw this movie, I fucking hated it. My friends took it all too seriously. Then, everything changed when, on the third watch-through, I pointed at Darcy's too-tight (leather?!) pants in the final scene and ripped that poor character a new asshole for being a pathetic, wet man in stupid pants. The next watch-through, I treated each scene's verbal lashings like a WWE wrestling match complete with commentary, and suddenly the entire thing became the best movie in the fucking world. My friends will never watch it with me again, but more fool they because now that I am older I realize that, by doing so, I was the only one engaging with the work in the appropriate spirit even if I lacked the Regency-era class. Austen wrote these to be funny, witty, backhanded, and insightful. When Darcy says, "She isn't handsome enough to tempt ME!", try pointing at him and screaming, "BIIIIITCH!" at the top of your lungs and then see how you feel.

Austenland (view this once you have comfortable familiarity with at least one Austen story. It gets more ridiculous as it goes along, and is all the better for it. Admittedly, I also don't care much for the actual endgame romance in this one either, but the movie is fun even when it's cringe like with... well, you'll see.)

Side note: While I generally look favorably upon Pride and Prejudice adaptations, I do NOT recommend I Love You Because.

Mamma Mia - Do I actually care about any of these couples getting together? Do I ship a damn thing in this show? No, I don't. Their love stories exist only to forward the antics and camp they get into, but it IS a romance. Everything, including the casting choices, is a gag. For example, if you watch the 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice listed below, you will understand why it is funny that Colin Firth is in this movie doing exactly what he does. It opens with all the girlies being like "ohhh wow what a great idea you had to invite these THREE DUDES YOUR MOM HAD A ONE-NIGHT STAND WITH TO YOUR WEDDING" and singing a happy and supportive song about it like a classic optimistic musical, and then all the girlies immediately afterwards being like, "JUST KIDDING you are SO fucking stupid" but still going with it.

Hadestown - For all I bitch about romance............... this is my favorite musical. Before you ask, NO! I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE LOVE STORY OF ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE! I CARE ABOUT THE OTHER ONE!!!! And even then, it's not something I dwell upon as a love story. Admittedly, I have a strong preference for the Live Original Cast Recording rather than the Broadway version (I strongly dislike the changed lyrics for the Epics. However, I am a big fan of Orpheus' added parts in Doubt Comes In), but if you like one, you'll like the other. If you don't like either, well, whatever.

Um, what else... uh, classic anime fandom favorites like Ouran High School Host Club are also fun, but I can also admit to you that I care not for 80% of the romance aspect of it.

Um, d-does Devilman: Crybaby count????

#ask #hadestown #devilman crybaby #pride and prejudice #mamma mia

[onevolon]

my love for you is infinite - part13

Santiago Garcia x afab!reader(Darcy)

note: pride and prejudice (2005) but with triple frontier boys because why not lol

word count: 1009

warnings: shenanigans

you can also read it on ao3.

part12 - part14 - masterlist

A footman escorts Santiago and the Gardiners through the stupendous library. The footman opens the double doors to reveal the magnificent drawing room. Darcy is and her sister Georgiana plays the piano. She jumps up and hurries over.

“My sister, Miss Georgiana...”

They smile and bob. Georgiana is a friendly, sweet girl.

“Mr. Santiago, my sister has told me so much about you. I feel as if we are friends already.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Not knowing what to do with this information, Santiago looks around.

“What a beautiful pianoforte.”

“My brother gave it to me” Georgiana says while smiling at her sister “She shouldn't have.”

“Yes, I should.”

“Oh, very well then.”

“She’s easily persuaded, is she not?”

Darcy and Georgiana smile at each other with affection.

“Your unfortunate sister once had to put up with my playing for a whole evening.”

Georgiana turns huge innocent eyes upon Santiago.

“But she says you play so well!”

Santiago, astounded, looks at Darcy, who gives a small, rather sweet shrug.

“Then she has perjured himself most profoundly.”

Darcy laughs.

“I said played "quite well".”

“Quite well is not very well. I am satisfied.”

Georgiana looks between them, intrigued and aware, instinctively, of the enormous attraction between them. Darcy notices and makes an effort to be normal.

“Your uncle is fond of fishing, I hear.”

“Yes, very.”

“Can you persuade him to borrow a rod this afternoon? For the lake here is very well stocked and its occupants left in peace for far too long.”

“That is a kindness he will never forget, Ma’am.”

He smiles gratefully, openly and Darcy has to look away.

“Do you play duets, Mr. Santiago?”

“Only when forced.”

“Sister, you must force him.

Santiago looks at Darcy - they smile at each other, a shy smile, a truce.

***

Darcy is driving Santiago and the Gardiners back to Lambton. The rugged landscape looks even more beautiful and dramatic in the dusk light. Santiago sits up with Darcy who holds the reins, while Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner sit comfortably in the carriage. Mr. Gardiner smiles broadly at two large fish that lie beside him.

“It is so beautiful up here. I will be sorry to leave.”

Darcy smiles at him.

“You have been a most gracious host. I'm sure my aunt and uncle will talk of nothing else for days.”

“I have recently thought a great deal about how I appear and act to others.”

Santiago looks at her, a serious last look as though he wants to record her features properly.

***

The party arrive back at the inn.

“What a wonderful lady” Mr. Gardiner says quietly to Santiago.

“Thank you so much Miss Darcy.”

Darcy is about to take her leave when the maid brings Santiago a letter.

“For you, sir.”

“It’s from Francisco.”

He rips open the letter.

***

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner are sitting, looking grim. Darcy is pacing, equally' concerned.

Santiago walks in with the letter, he tries to speak, chokes a sob and walks out again. With great difficulty, Darcy restrains himself from following him. So, she sits down.

Santiago comes in again very quickly.

“No, I'm perfectly well. Truly.”

He takes a deep breath. Darcy's face is a picture of tender concern. Mrs. Gardiner watches her, too.

“It is the most dreadful news. Ben has run away - with Mr. Wickham. They are gone together from Brighton to Lord knows where. He has no money, no connections, I fear he is lost forever.”

“This is my fault - if only I had exposed Wickham when I should.” says Darcy.

“No, it is my fault. I might have prevented all of it merely by being open with my brothers.”

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner look at each other perplexed.

“Has anything been done to recover him?”

“Father has gone to London. But I know very well that nothing can be done. We have not the smallest hope.”

“Would I could help you.”

“Miss Darcy, I think it is too late.”

“I am afraid we must go at once I will join Mr. Bennet and find Ben before he ruins the family forever.”

“This is grave indeed. I will leave you. Goodbye.”

Darcy pauses at the door, looks back at Santiago and then is gone.

Santiago, Francisco, Tom and William are gathered around Mrs. Bennet who has taken to her bed.

***

“Why did the Forsters let him out of their sight? I always said they were unfit to have charge of him.”

“And now he is ruined.” Tom says smugly.

“You are all ruined. Who will take you now with a fallen sibling? Poor Mr. Bennet will now have to fight the perfidious Wickham and then be killed”

“He hasn't found him yet, Mama.”

“- and the Mr. Collins' will turn us out before he is cold in his grave”

“Do not be alarmed, mama. Our uncle is helping in the search.” says Francisco.

“Ben must know what this will do to my nerves, such flutterings and spasms all over me. . .”

It is clear Mrs. Bennet is truly suffering. Santiago strokes her hand.

***

Santiago and William walk into the drawing room. Francisco and Tom are busying themselves.

“Look. It's Papa!”

They all rush into the library. Mr. Bennet slumps at his desk.

“- who is to fight Wickham and make him marry Ben, now you've come home?” William asks.

“For God's sake let me be! Santiago, help me with my boots.”

“You suppose them to be still in London?”

Mr. Bennet nods “Where else could they be so well concealed?”

“Oh father, I'm so sorry.”

“It’s been my own doing.”

“You mustn't be too severe on yourself.”

“No Santiago. Let me once in my life feel how much I have been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the experience. It will pass away soon enough.”

***

The boys have a letter. William grabs it from Francisco, Tom grabs it from William, before he has a chance to open it, Francisco grabs it from Tom.

“It’s to Papa. It's in Uncle's writing.”

Mr. Bennet snatches the letter.

“As it is addressed to me...”

He tears it open and begins to read, squinting because he has forgotten his glasses.

“He’s found them.”

“Are they married?”

“Just wait. I can't make out his script.”

Santiago snatches it.

“Give it to me. “

“Are they married?” William asks again.

“They will be, if father will settle a hundred pounds a year on Ben. That is Wickham's condition.”

“A hundred pounds!”

“You will agree to this, father?”

The letter is passed around the others.

“Of course I will agree. But how much your uncle has laid on this wretched man already is anybody's guess.”

“What do you mean, Father?”

“No man in his senses would marry Ben on so slight a temptation as a hundred a year.”

“Ah, I see.” Santiago says.

“See what?”

“Your uncle is very generous.”

“Do you think it a large sum?”

“Wickham’s a fool if he takes her for less than ten thousand pounds.”

“Ten thousand! Heaven forbids!” Francisco exclaims.

***

“Ben married! And at fifteen too! Ring the bell, William! I must put on my things and tell Lady Lucas! Oh, to see her face! And tell the servants they will have a bowl of punch!”

The other Bennets are assembled.

“We should thank our uncle, Mama.”

“And so he should help! He's much richer than us, and he hasn't got any children.”

Santiago looks at his mother in perfect astonishment as she gets out of bed.

“A son, married!”

“Is that all you think about?”

“When you have five children, Santiago, tell me what else will occupy your thoughts and then perhaps you will understand.”

“You don't know what Wickham's like.”

“Now where will they live? Purvis Lodge might do. Ashworth is vacant of course, but it's too far off, I couldn't be as to have her ten miles from me”

“Before you take any of these houses, Mrs. Bennet, let us be clear. Into one house he will never be welcome.”

Mrs. Bennet stares at him.

#santiago garcia #frankie morales #ben miller #will miller #tom davis #triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #onevolon fic #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac fic #oscar isaac fanfiction

[lordisitmine]

TTNBD BLOG: PART TWO

Welcome once again, to the extended author’s notes! That’s kind of how I’m thinking of these posts. This post covers the details of chapter two of the story, (chapter 3 on ao3 if you’re just looking at the numbers), entitled What a Tangled Web We Weave. So, spoilers if you haven’t read that yet.

HISTORICAL ACCURACY

In this week’s retrospective, I’d like to talk a little bit about historical accuracy. If you’re anything like me, you like watching and reading a lot of things that take place in past eras. If you’re like me, you hate when something- be it a phrase, an outfit, a hairstyle, or a reference to people/events- is egregiously incorrect to the time period being portrayed. Big anachronisms drive me crazy.

However, there’s a level of inaccuracy that I don’t actually mind- if it helps better the story without taking me too much out of the fantasy, or if it adds something to the setting while not detracting from the believably- I’ll allow it. Basically, what I’m saying is that, like a lot of other aspects of writing/art, historical accuracy is about finding the right balance. Or, getting as close as you can to the target of perfect. With fanfiction, I think the margin is even wider- I try not to take this medium too overly seriously, especially when I’m reading and enjoying something someone else has written. I’m a little tougher on myself, though I hope not too tough.

I like to call what I do “movie-accurate”. A lot of my favourite period films have things in them that just aren’t correct, but because I love those movies so much, and because the overall vibe is close enough to what I know about history, I let it slide.

For example, in the 2005 film Pride and Prejudice, the hairstyles of the young women, as well as some of their dress styles are quite off from what women’s fashions were actually like at the time in which the novel/movie was set. The 1995 BBC miniseries adaptation is far, far more faithful in terms of aesthetics. However, the 2005 film is incredibly beloved by a lot of Jane Austen fans, despite its inaccuracies! Because it’s a fucking good movie, which sells the characterization and romances so well that you can sort of excuse the “dumbing down” of the details. It’s one of my favourite period films, and films, period.

Obviously there are bad movies that don’t even try to be accurate, but when I say “movie-accurate” know that I’m talking about the good ones.

During the course of Though the Night be Dark, I’ll be making a lot of references to/descriptions of outfits and hairstyles, because I’m pretty sure I was a fashion designer or personal stylist in my past life, but not all of them will be totally accurate to the years 1899/1900. That goes for stuff like technology, too- it won’t ever be over-the-top (i.e. they’re not gonna have television in the year 1900) but if you notice stuff that seems just a little out of place, know that I felt it was necessary to fudge the numbers, so to speak, in pursuit of the characters, the romance, and the story itself.

This same sort of “movie-accuracy” applies to the settings. I’ve never been to Paris or London in my life- I’m broke and there’s a whole ocean in between me and Europe. I do my best to research and reference actual places and landmarks, but if you do live in either of those places and what I write seems fantastical or inaccurate, I am sorry, believe me. Please forgive me, and do your best to imagine these as like, imaginary versions of these places.

I don’t know why I’m defending myself- most people probably don’t mind, and some probably don’t notice things like this. But it’s important to me to be as accurate as I can be within the scope of my ability, and it’s important to me for people to learn about my process if they want to. I digress.

CHAPTER TWO: WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE

Sometimes I pick titles because they’re references to things, and the words/themes of the things in question closely fit the character and the story. For example, To the End of Everything is a lyric from the Adam Lambert song Sleepwalker, which was on my SebaCiel playlist back in 2014 when I was first writing it. It fit the story of the end of Ciel’s life, and the end of his contract with Sebastian, and it’s such a nice set of words to say out loud and look at on a screen.

The first chapter of this fic, A Far, Far Better Rest, is a reference to the final line from A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. Two cities, London and Paris, both of which are the settings for TTNBD. Not a super deep reference, but there’s a reason for it.

What a Tangled Web We Weave is also a reference to something- part of a famous line from am 1808 poem Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field by Sir Walter Scott. It’s set in the time of Henry VIII and tells the romantic and ultimately tragic story of some rich guy and his affair with a woman. The full line is what a tangled we weave/when first we practise to deceive.

I picked this title for three reasons: one, because it has the word web in it, and Claude is a spider demon. Two, because it’s about lies, and lies are the basis for some of the upcoming conflict in this story. And three, and most chief among the reasons: it sounded cool.

What can I say. Sometimes I write/use things are deep and profound, and sometimes I just use things I think are kinda neat. I try, as always, to strike a decent balance.

Alright, let’s break this chapter down.

We started off with a remix of a scene from the second season of the Black Butler anime. It’s a little infamous, to be sure. I’m speaking of course about the scene where Alois shoves his finger into Hannah’s eye socket! I know that in the original scene he doesn’t actually pull out her eyeball, but I wanted to go whole-hog, I think it’s just extra insane and I wanted you to know what kind of Alois Trancy character I’m playing with here. He’s an adult here, whereas he was a kid in the anime- I don’t know, I just thought the increased level of brutality suited him.

I pulled actual dialogue from the scene and repurposed it, which I love doing and have done many times in my fanfic writing career (side-eye at my Supernatural fics). I wrote it from Claude’s POV because I love that outsider POV in a scene. I also wanted to establish his thoughts and feelings about Alois right off the bat.

Cards on the table: I haven’t watched the second season of the anime in a very long time. I watched the first few episodes some time last year I think??? When I was deciding to write this story, just to get a feel for their characters/relationship again. I’ve seen them portrayed in fanon as everything from a toxic couple to a couple who are more actually in love, like Ciel and Sebastian- I very much don’t see that for these two. Their tension is different, and in the context of this story, it’s been years, and that tension is heading towards a boiling point.

What I’m saying is that I’m sorry to any real die-hard Alois and/or Claude fans in advance if I do stretch them too far out of the OOC allowance margins… but also no I’m not hehehehehe.

Claude mentions Alois reading penny dreadfuls. Penny dreadfuls were these cheap little serialised fiction zines you could buy for a penny, hence the name. Every volume was like, an 8–16 page chunk of a story. The dreadful part comes from the fact that they were highly sensationalised and sometime salacious stories about murder and highway robbery and pirates and stories of real-life criminals doing heinous murder and such- sometimes sold at public executions! Overall, these things weren’t considered Proper English Literature. Which of course meant that they were VERY popular. Mostly in the early to mid 1800s. As far as I know, they started to lose ground in popular culture by the turn of the century, but they existed, I think they were cool, and therefore I can include a reference to them!

Penny dreadfuls weren’t really about romance or sex but they were super popular among young people, and the idea of Alois reading trashy romance novels in general is just hilarious to me. And like I said, I just really wanted to reference something so undeniably Victorian.

And yes, for the purposes of this story, he does in fact know that Hannah is a demon. Did he know that in the anime? I think maybe he did, but like I said, it’s been a while, and I don’t remember. I could go back and watch it again, but I don’t want canon to mess up my fanfiction. Anyway, the fact that Alois knows Hannah is a demon will become relevant and important as the story continues, so I won’t say too much more about it.

Back to Paris- it’s time for more Lizzy content! There’s quite a bit of that in this chapter. Originally, this chapter and the next one were originally just supposed to be one chapter, but the whole thing got too long/had a natural breaking point in my mins, so I split it up.

These parts of the story are more difficult to write- they involve the OCs a lot, and there’s lots of things to establish. It’s hard to do that without getting to in the weeds or being really clunky, but on the other hand, I can’t forget that anything outside of canon references is in my brain and no one else’s, so I have to make sure to cover the important stuff.

This is my first time writing F/F romance! That’s not quite true. I’ve been writing original stories with F/F romances in them for years and years- this is my first time writing an F/F romance that other people are actually going to read. Thankfully, being a lesbian, I have actual experience falling in love with women, so I have lots of real-life stuff to draw from. I didn’t realise how much of my own past and current crushes and preferences wormed their way into the Lizzy/Sybil dynamic. I’ve read posts before about how romance/sex scenes are always revealing of the author’s preferences/feelings/kinks, and I was like “not me haha I am Unknowable” but I guess I can’t say that anymore oops.

When it comes to labels for fictional characters, I don’t like to use them/talk about them unless it’s been explicitly stated in canon. For example, I would never say a canon bisexual character is exclusively gay, that would be bi erasure and we don’t do that shit here. This is especially relevant when it comes to time periods where terminology was different, and labels hadn’t been invented yet/didn’t mean the same things.

I’m trying to write Lizzy in a way that the reader can interpret any way they want! If you want to read her as bi or as a lesbian, that’s fine, I have no hard opinion on the subject! I think it makes a lot of sense that she’s bi, I think that there’s a case for her being a lesbian who’s had to deal with some hardcore compulsory heterosexuality.

However, Sybil is my character and therefore I do get to say what she is, and she is a lesbian. Stone cold homosexual. Again, not that it matters, I just like saying it.

Lizzy and Sybil’s romance isn’t a full-on slow burn per se, but I’m really enjoying building it up here brick-by-brick. At this point, she and Lizzy have been friends for a long time and already know each other really well, so the “to lovers” part can kind of come into play early, but I’m not going to give it all away at once- where would the fun be in that?

Let’s talk about Verity. Madame LaChance if you’re nasty. Verity, of course, means truth, and la chance is French for luck. I kind of wanted her to be straight up called “Lady Luck” but that was a bit TOO hokey, even for me. I wanted there to be an auntie-like side character, and I said to myself, what if there was a character who was like, all the good, lighthearted parts of Grell and Madame Red without any of the “oh btw I’m insane/also a serial killer”. I thought it’d be funny if she was sort of a go-between, having friendships with both Sybil & Lizzy as well as Ciel & Sebastian without any of them being aware of it. She became a bigger part of the story than I’d originally intended- she sort of stole my heart, maybe she’ll steal yours too.

She’s a little mysterious, but I can promise you she is a normal human. She’s just very… unique, I guess you could say. No more spoilers.

I’m being sort of vague about the club and what it’s called and what it looks like, there’s a lot more about it in a future chapter, don’t worry. Also, Madame refers to Ciel as Monsieur Phénix and Sebastian as Monsieur Corbeau. That’s French for phoenix and raven respectively. Stage names. Code names. C'est très dramatique. (No, I don’t actually speak French, beyond some very basic words and phrases.)

I hate to admit it, but I felt woefully out of my element while writing this part and I'm not 100% happy with how it came out I knew I wanted to have some reason to show Sebastian and Ciel going about their day-to-day lives, but I was also struck by the lack of, like, drama or action so far in the story. I fell back on the old adage of “write what you know” and had the boys not solving crime per se (there will be time for that later) but perhaps avenging somebody. I don’t think Ciel will ever give up his vengeful nature, whether its on his own behalf or someone else’s. And for Sebastian, it’s just bad business, and we can’t have that, can we?

There are a whole two paragraphs from Little Women by Louisa May Alcott in this next scene. I don’t know if that book is meant to be sad, but it made me terribly melancholy when I read it as a kid. Also, there I go again referencing literature. I pulled the same trick in next week’s chapter too, which I didn’t even realise I was repeating until I’d already done it. Oops.

“-And nobody saw Beth wipe the tears off the yellow keys, that wouldn't keep in tune, when she was all alone. She sang like a little lark about her work, never was too tired for Marmee and the girls, and day after day said hopefully to herself, "I know I'll get my music some time, if I'm good."

"There are many Beth’s in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind.”

I wanted Lizzy to be reading aloud in this scene and this reference jumped out at me when I was trying to think of books that existed at the time and that characters this age might have access to. Beth of course is short for Elizabeth, and Lizzy’s arc in this story is about her becoming her own person in a lot of ways, or like, realising who she is, and this quote about Beth feeling like she’s in everyone’s shadow and only exists to do things for other people seemed really appropriate.

There’s a little more insight into Simeon- I drew the photograph described in the scene so you could get an idea of what Simeon looks like. I really like writing Simeon. He’s such a Good Dad. I mean, he’s bound by his word to be a good dad, but he really loves Sybil so much and wants her to be happy. But there’s also so much going on beneath the surface. I know most of you have figured out his true nature by now, but I hope that I still have the ability to surprise you in the long run when it comes to him.

Once again, thanks for reading! Comments and questions are always welcome, and I’ll see you all again next week! Special shout-out to vandorttranslations, who is translating this story into Russian as we go! It will never not be amazing to me that someone feels strongly enough about my work to undertake such a task!

-lord_is_it_mine

#lord speaks #kuroshitsuji #fanfiction #black butler #sebaciel #writing #my writing #behind the scenes #ttnbd #tteoe series #ttnbd blog #commentary

[lynchiangf]

I am once again watching pride and prejudice 2005 dir joe wright starring keira knightley and matthew macfayden

#the most important movie of all time?

[matredaen]

SEVEN COMFORT MOVIES courtesy of @ragnarokhound and the Tag Game (seven mutchies for seven movies!) - hey, thanks <3

Fury Road - listen. i am weak for the soundtrack. hands down if i HAD to only watch one movie for the rest of forever this would be it

Pride & Prejudice (2005) - i know theres Opinions about the best p&p adaptation but this one was the first i saw and is Close to my Heart About it

Pacific Rim - you have ROBOTS. punching giant SEA MONSTERS. the soundtrack, AGAIN!! drift compatibility!! be still my heart. this is the beginning of my feud with my own dear father over 'plot holes' (dad: "why would they build mechs instead of simply nuking the beasts?" me: "BECAUSE HOW ELSE WOULD PLOT YOU WALNUT-")

Everything Everywhere All At Once - this film emotionally compromised me I saw it four times in theaters and i am going to get a tattoo of the most boring rock

Ever After - it might be taboo to say but this absolutely ranks higher to me than the princess bride. i love the renaissance Flair. leonardo is there. my girl has The Prettiest Dress and the romance is Angsty, what can u do. i wore the VHS tape out on this one!!

Knives Out - its knives out.

Iron Man 3/Man from UNCLE/Pirates of the Carribean I - i know im cheating here but also like these three all hit the good good 'action movie that hits the emotional beats but i dont have to think too hard about' mood but like, in a different way than FR or PR. idk! sue me! i love these movies and im sure at least 40% is because of the soundtracks. turns out, i love soundtracks

i cast my Beam Upon @lmaodies @ground-c-ontrol @theearlkindagay @horsyunicorn @zalein @tikkia and also Whomever would like to be the prodigal seventh At, please know that this is an open invitation, from me, for anyone who would like to play along with this little ask game, this is me giving you a Free Pass <3

#tag game #personal #ish?

[kronkk]

I am once again watching pride and prejudice 2005 after captain america and the winter soldier

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Teenage Vampires Meet Jane Austen

There is a danger of decrying all vampire YA books released in the 2000s as mere Twilight Saga clones, but Beth Fantaskey's (and if ever an author had a vampire novel writing last name, she does!) novel was published in 2000, and Twilight wasn't released until 2005. So please, no comparisons between these two books--they're sufficiently different that they deserve to be discussed on their own merits. Honestly, I kind of wish that Fantaskey's books had blown up and become the mainstream YA vampire duology of the 2000s, but a girl can't have everything. Let's talk the marvelous mix of Jane Austen and vampire lore that is Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side.

Right off the top, this book has startlingly excellent adoption representation. Jessica is adopted, and she has a phenomenal relationship with her adoptive parents. She is unconditionally loved and supported, she is happy, there is great parent-child communication, and there is exactly zero resentment or hesitation once Jessica is ready to explore her birth parents--she is supported in that too. She struggles with her adoption circumstances specifically, but even that is handled well--who wouldn't struggle with being adopted as an infant to avoid being murdered alongside their family? I was pleasantly surprised to find such great representation, and it serves the story equally well, given how objectively abusive and cruel Lucius's biological family is. This tends not to be something I see a lot in SFF (you could argue for found family doing similar things, but this is an explicit adoption story in the 2000s, so I think that gets its own literary area), and I loved how well it was handled.

So who are Jessica and Lucius?

Jessica was born in Romania as Antanasia to the Dragomir royal vampire family. However, she grew up as Jessica Packwood, daughter of a university professor and a hippie in Southern America, a mathelete, and a 4H horsewoman who isn't a half bad jumper. She's not popular at school but she has her best friend, her mathelete colleagues, and even a boy who is a little bit interested in her as she learns to be more assertive with her worth and skills--again, supported wholeheartedly by her parents.

Then Lucius Vladescu rocks into town and pulls a Heathcliff out on the moors at her bus stop on the first day of senior year. That absolutely unmitigated dramatic flair is arguably a combination coping and rebellion methodbecause Lucius is the heir apparent to the Vladescu royal vampire family. He's basically a teenage angst version of a combination of Mr. Darcy and Heathcliff, and that in and of itself is the weirdest combination of chivalrous, assholeish, dutiful, and "let it burn." It's unusual for me to say that the male lead in a YA vampire romance is actually fascinating, but watching Lucius try to burn down the status quo as hard as he can while also trying to stop things from catching fire as hard as he can is never not interesting.

In addition to Jessica and Lucius being genuinely interesting characters to follow, the book itself does the weirdest thing where it combines literary influences and allusions to Pride and Prejudice (in the form of Lucius's letters to his uncle and Jessica's resemblance to Lizzie), Wuthering Heights (in Lucius's *gestures broadly* and direct diegetic references to the novel that get a bit close to the heavy-handed line), and Dracula (in the general vampire aesthetics and the Vladescu vibes--I am super not speaking for the Dragomir family vibes, because that is just...yeah). Vampire and Gothic make sense together, but the Pride and Prejudice vibes just take this story and give it a bit of lightness that I wasn't expecting and frankly think works astoundingly well.

Overall, this book was a favorite of mine when I found it in high school, and I cannot recommend it enough. It's part one of a duology, so be sure to follow it up with Jessica Rules the Dark Side.

#beth fantaskey #jessica's guide to dating on the dark side #wuthering heights #dracula #pride and prejudice #vampire #vampire romance #ya books #ya romance #ya vampire romance #high school book #books #books and novels #books and reading #books & libraries #book recommendations

[buddyhollyscurls]

i'm watching the 2005 p+p to get myself hype about reading pride and prejudice AGAIN at the end of this month to start spring and as much as I'm loving it and looking forward to it I am also once again thinking about North and South and ykw I think it deserves the same type of recognition

Can you imagine a new adaptation where they romanticize the relationship between John and Margaret like they do Darcy and Elizabeth? That scene where they're dancing at Netherfield right and as they're dancing the crowd fades away and it appears as if they're the only two in the room? That but that scene where they're at John's place for a party and she's wearing her best outfit and he's only stealing glances at her.

Imagine this as a film scene

#i would pass out and die #me #personal #pride and prejudice 05 #north and south

[f1-giuki]

Eh eh thank you darling @carronyaflowers for the tag!

Rules: Post 10 of your fave movies and tag 10 people.

1. Amarcord by Federico Fellini. God, I can't quantify how much I love this movie, from the absurd characters to the stories that hit close to home, the settings, the accents and the music!!! The photography, the cinematography and the colours! This movie feels like remembering home once you're on your way back after a trip that you loved but left you drained. (The title means I remember!)

2. Radio Days by Woody Allen. Again, I am a sucker for nostalgic movies that talk about how people grew up. I love this it's such a funny movie, and the soundtrack is amazing! The cast is spectacular and the overall quality of the movie is stellar! This is a movie you want to watch if you're in a creative slump, it's that good.

3. Annie Hall by Woody Allen. I watched this movie more times than I could count. I loved this movie because how it was shot and because of how happy it made my parents when I was a kid, but now that I'm an adult and I can understand this movie, I love it because of how it depicts change, I love how weird but still strangely real the characters are, how it portrays an alienated character which is full of flaws. And the jokes are supreme (especially those about LA jsjsjsjs).

4. Cars by Disney Pixar. I literally can recount the lines from this movie by heart. Talking about cult classic movies, this is the one. Made me fall in love with cars and stuff with wheels. I thought for like three years of my life, when I was a kid, that Lightning was bullshitting Luigi and he actually was a Ferrari because he was red. This is my get out of depression/jail card.

5. Ratatouille by Disney Pixar. Honestly Remi is the sole reason I cook and I don't despise France too much. I LOVE THIS RAT and his passion and the fact that he doesn't hesitate in life, that he's full of flaws and talent and he still can make it work, even if life can be shit. My life goal is to make that soup. I will make it one day. I also learned an unhealthy amount of facts about rats bc of this movie. I LOVE IT.

6. Rush by Ron Howard. ANOTHER. MOTORSPORT. MOVIE. I don't have a personalities outside going vroom vroom, I'm sorry. I love Niki Lauda and I love Daniel Brühl, so this movie was made for a mf like me. It's a comforting movie, I love it, I watch it at least twice a year with my mom at lunch time and it's a family rule not to skip this if we find it while browsing through the TV channels.

7. The Grand Budapest Hotel by Wes Anderson. MASTERPIECE! The colours, the cinematography, the cast, the story, the fucking painting and the prison and the characters? This is what a movie should be like, this is the visualisation of genius, pure and surreal genius.

8. Mamma Mia! by Phyllida Lloyd. What more can I say. This is what I aspire to do in life, this is how my brain works.

9. Inglorious Bastards by Quentin Tarantino. Now, I love a good Tarantino movie, but I was debating whether or not to put Pulp Fiction instead of this, but honestly this is a little less pulp and more enjoyable. It has the right amount of violence, it gives enough satisfaction against the nazis and it has Christoph Waltz and Daniel Brühl, what can I say? What could you want more out of a movie?

10. Sense and Sensibility by Ang Lee. Now, this is a spot that is hard to give away, especially because I had like three movies I'd have liked to put here (all Jane Austen adaptations! the others were Emma 2020 and Pride and Prejudice 2005) but I chose Sense and Sensibility because I would do anything for period drama Hugh Grant. I love you Edward Ferrars.

anyone who sees this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged my darling👀💖

[madame-r]

Currently watching Sanditon Season 3 after catching up with the first two seasons.

It’s actually not that easy to find contents or analyzes about this show. If you have some, please send them my way. I won’t dive too deeply into Sanditon myself, but here is my quick take on it.

*SPOILERS*

❤️ What I like :

The Original Soundtrack

Ruth Barrett did an amazing job in Season 1. Here is an interview which dives into her process as a composer.

The Overall Aesthetic

I am not immune to a slick take like Emma (2020) which is visually stunning, but I’ve noticed that my taste in period drama movies and tv shows leans toward a more naturalistic look.

Yes, Pride & Prejudice (2005) atmosphere, especially the cinematography by Roman Osin, ruined me.

Georgiana Lambe x Arthur Parker

It’s refreshing to see a friendship between a woman and a man for once. They balance each other out with one who can’t escape people’s scrutiny and the other being constantly overlooked.

Esther Denham x Clara Bereton

The Frenemies. Somehow despite their antagonistic relationship and their twisted behavior, at the end of the day, they have each other’s back. I want more women’s solidarity in stories.

James Stringer

Second lead syndrom ?

Sydney Parker’s death

Not that I wanted him to die but I enjoy the fact that they didn’t brush it under the rug and showed how this event affected his entourage.

Charles Lockhart

I didn’t see that twist coming. I was sad because I love him and his dynamic with Georgiana and Arthur. But I enjoy hating him while re-watching the show.

They did his character a disservice by bringing him back in the third season. It doesn’t ring true to me. Despite himself, I believe he caught some feelings for Georgiana and Arthur along the way.

Samuel Colbourne

I may have a thing for dark hair light eyes men ? Well, he is definitely less boring than his brother.

❌ What I don't like :

Basically? The romantic relationships.

Charlotte Heywood x Sidney Parker

Alright, yes the sexy low voice of Sidney works on me too. But what’s left when you go beyond physical attraction between them ? A man who belittles Charlotte at every turn.

It’s infuriating how many times she apologizes to him when he just barely apologize to her once.

To put a spin on his love declaration : I do not think that Charlotte is her best self with Sidney.

Esther Denham x Lord Babington

The man wore her down and for him, no means yes. Dude, let the woman become a rich heiress and decides what she wants in life. And the all thing about wanting a baby because it’s what Lord Babington deserves ? It reaaally rubs me the wrong way.

Charlotte Heywood x Alexander Colbourne

Oh the all “let’s hook up with my boss” thing. Charlotte wants to financially sustain herself but tried to be a governess once and then gave up ? Sure, she had to stay in Sanditon for the sake of the show’s name but still...

Also, Alexander is boring because he acts like a male lead, brooding, playing with dogs and riding horses but he is not fleshed out. And how many times can he change his mind in less than ten minutes ? Seriously ?

Too bad, I was really curious about the Colbourne household life. Mrs Weathley is such a mood.

And again : what’s left when you go beyond physical attraction between them ?

#Jane Austen #Sanditon #1800s Book #19th Century #England #Andrew Davies #TV Show #Period Drama #Historical Fiction #Historical Drama #Costume Drama #Blablas

[theoreticslut]

for the dating thingy 👉🏻👈🏻

f, mid-20s, 5'3", very light blue eyes (the lightest in my family actually) currently growing out a buzz but so v short hair, tattoos on both arms and two on my legs (they're bees above my knees bc its punny). I love writing and collaging, film photography and art, plus baking and music (anything but country pls)! I love Stranger Things and Umbrella Academy rn but also Pride &Prejudice (2005) is a comfort movie for me that I watch much too often.

Ummm first date would either be a coffee shop bc it's easy and more chill and we could split a fun lil pastry or an art museum bc who doesn't love looking at art y'know? Also bc i love conversations about art (I took way too many art history classes in college)

Omg yes! I’d so date you 🥹💗💗

I am fully invested in listening to you talk about art. I so wish I had done more with art in high school or at least tried to do it once I started college. I am super excited though bc one of my classes this semester is kind of like an art studio!! I’m minoring in expressive art therapy, so I have to take classes in all the different art forms (classic/basic art, theatre, storytelling, etc) which hopefully should be fun!

I’m lowkey very excited by the fact you have tattoos. I find them so attractive in every form, & knowing you have some that are simply for a pun makes it a thousand times better! Maybe you could help me finally get mine done. I totally haven’t been stalling 2+ years to get my fist one simply bc I’m too scared to make an appointment…

All of your hobbies sound so interesting and fun too! Long as you’re cool with it, I’d be down to learn & give all of it a try.

Obviously I love stranger things, but I also love the umbrella academy! I religiously watch each season as it’s released, like week of 😅 I’ve never seen pride & prejudice though! Always have wanted to, but haven’t sat down to watch it yet (if it’s even on any of the streaming services I have)

you honestly sound so freaking cool!! So again - yes, I would date you! 💗

describe yourself & i’ll tell you if i’d date you <3

#holly’s replies #anon asks #ask games #would i date you?

[superiorvenacava]

oh to stand on a cliff overlooking the countryside with my skirts billowing like an Austen character

#I am once again watching pride and prejudice 2005