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that-foul-legacy-lover · 4 months

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Childe isn't from Fontaine. unlike some of his coworkers, he was born and raised in Snezhnaya, his homeland, and would proudly serve it until his death. because of this, he's rather nonplussed about the prophecy in Fontaine- in the absolute worst-case scenario, he's an excellent swimmer, and will be able to get to safety with no fear of being dissolved, unlike the people of the Nation of Justice. so the Eleventh Harbinger doesn't pay much thought to all the rumors he keeps hearing during his trip to the Court- not that he could if he wanted to, though, with distant whale song and Foul Legacy's quiet growls filling his head at all times. it gives Childe horrible headaches, enough to not care about an entire city being flooded. the people of Fontaine are surrounded by water, they can take care of themselves, he reasons, and ignores his surroundings.

but then he meets you, and his whole world gets flipped upside down.

if Childe, being Snezhnayan, embodies ice and snow, then you certainly embody water and rain. you meet him when you're both out for a hot drink in the morning, recommending your favorite blend of tea to him, and the Harbinger is immediately enamored with your kindness and go-with-the-flow demeanor, so he immediately takes the opportunity when you extend a hand and ask to show him around the Court. it winds up being the most fun Childe, and Foul Legacy, by extension, have had in months, running around the grand city with you and trying various different foods and treats, and at the end you both promise to meet again, leaving Childe with a sappy smile on his face. Foul Legacy adores you, chittering and chirping with delight inside Childe's mind, and Childe can't even bring himself to tell his Abyssal half to be quiet because he likes you, too.

and as you promised, you continue to meet day after day, your tour extending outside of the Court and to the rest of Fontaine to spend more time together. Childe often drags you into more dangerous situations, always protecting you and emerging with rain in his hair and a triumphant smile on his face, which only grows wider when you praise him. and when he trusts you enough, he introduces you to Foul Legacy, and oh, how the moth-like monster loves you. he sweeps you into his arms and stares adoringly into your eyes, nuzzling his forehead against yours with a trill- that's how half of your walks with Childe become walks with Foul Legacy.

sometimes Childe wishes he'd never met you, wishes that your paths had never crossed. but then he despairs, knowing that his world would have been so much darker without the time you had together. and yet... perhaps, if you never met, he and Foul Legacy would not have to endure heartbreak. they wouldn't have had to watch, Childe screaming from inside their shared body as Foul Legacy howled and grasped for you, your body slipping through his claws and disintegrating into a curious pool of starry water you had come across by chance.

and the Fontaine prophecy claimed another life.

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #genshin x reader #childe x reader #me: hm only fontaine people dissolve into water #me: but childe's not from fontaine... but what if YOU ARE....#evil giggling #i am not sorry at all for this #short scenario #wifi's brainrot #good evening :)

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 4 months

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Blue Christmas

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You're feeling down with the holidays coming, missing your rockstar boyfriend, so your friends plan a trip to a cabin with a little surprise to cheer you up.

18+ Only

"Y/N, come on! Sing along!" Robin whined from the back seat.

You groaned, rolling your eyes at her. You appreciated your friends' attempt to cheer you up but it wasn't working. Nothing was going to make this Christmas feel joyful or triumphant. The one person you wanted to be spending Christmas with was halfway across the country and you didn't know when you were going to see him again.

"We're on our way to a beautiful cabin in the woods for a friendsmas like no other!" Steve whooped from the driver's seat. "A whole weekend of fun, drinking, and me! What more could you possibly ask for?"

You couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, I mean, if I have you Steve, then what more could I possibly need?"

Eddie. You needed Eddie, but he was currently on tour so you couldn't have him. Corroded Coffin had become an overnight sensation and you were beyond thrilled for him and the guys. But they'd been gone for two months. Two months where the closest you got to having your boyfriend was a phone call. He tried to call every day and you appreciated it but you also knew he was crazy busy. The newfound stardom had caused a whirl of insanity from talk shows to press releases to photo shoots to radio interviews. He was constantly on the go and lately the calls and been shorter and farther and fewer between.

You didn't want to think it, but you couldn't help that nagging in the back of your brain. Those doubts that began to creep in like insects burrowing under your skin. Was he going to find someone else? He was constantly surrounded by beautiful women these days, models and other musicians and actresses. How would he not be tempted? You glanced down at yourself, your leggings and sweater dress and knew you couldn't compete. Maybe he saw you as special when his options were limited to Hawkins but a buffet of buxom had just been opened for him and he was quickly becoming the most wanted man in the world. You could compete with Hawkins girls but you had no shot with L.A. girls.

"Hey, stop that," Robin chided, slapping the back of your head. "Get out of there. No going down that path that leads to nothing but misery. This is not a pity party. This is a Christmas party and we are going to have fun. You are going to smile and laugh and have a good time and you are going to padlock those thoughts away where they belong."

You nodded, turning to look out the window at the snow covered landscape. Robin and Steve were your best friends. You had shared all of your doubts and fears with them about Eddie getting bored with you or deciding he didn't want to be tied down when he had the world at his feet. They consistently assured you that wasn't the case, that Eddie loved you, that you two were endgame. You appreciated their support and their positivity so much but you just weren't sure anymore.

"Here we are!" Steve called, pulling up to the most beautiful cabin you'd ever seen.

Cabin? This was like a manor made of logs. What cabin had two stories with a full porch that wrapped around to a deck? And was that a hot tub on the deck? Floor to ceiling glass windows covered the front, which would give you a beautiful view of the winter woods but, Jesus, this place as to cost a small fortune.

"Umm...how exactly are we affording this place?" you questioned.

"Oh, well everybody pitched in," Steve offered, shrugging. "Argyle, Jonathan, and Nancy are driving up later. Between all of us, it actually wasn't too bad." He hopped out of the car and ran around to the back, pulling out your bag. "How about you head in and check it out? You can look around and get all holly and jolly. Get in a positive head space while Robin and I handle getting the rest of the stuff inside."

"Okay..." you said slowly, taking your bag. Why was he being weird? You walked to the cabin and up the steps, pausing when you heard the car start up. You turned to see Steve and Robin waving at you and smiling as they pulled away. "Hey! What the hell? Where are you guys going?"

Seriously? What were they playing at? Did they think this was funny because you definitely weren't laughing. Ugh. Whatever. Groaning, you pushed open the door to the cabin and stepped inside. You had no idea what those two were doing but you'd be damned if you were going to stand outside waiting for their punch line.

Your eyes roamed the cabin as you set your bag down and unbuttoned your coat, hanging it on one of the hooks by the door. There was a Christmas tree already set up and decorated in the corner and a fire roaring in the fireplace. You wondered if the owners had done that. If so, it was a nice touch. Possibly a bit hazardous to leave a fire going with no one there but nice. There were cozy blankets draped on the couch and a lush, shag rug right in front of a beautiful stone fireplace.

You moved to the window to see if Steve and Robin had returned, ending whatever silly game they were playing. Moving the curtains back, you admired the view. Trees coated in sparkling white snow, large rolling hills in the background. Steve had mentioned possibly skiing this weekend.

"Well, at least it's a beautiful view," you muttered.

"Actually, I would say this view in stunning."

Your breath caught in your throat as that voice reached your ears, flowing over your body like the sun's rays after a long winter. Turning, you gasped, tears pooling in your eyes at the most beautiful sight you had seen in months.

There stood Eddie, your perfect Eddie. He looked just like your Eddie, not the Eddie that was plastered over the cover of magazines or sitting on the Today show. He wasn't decked out in designer clothes. His face wasn't covered in make-up to ensure he looked lively under fluorescent lighting. He wore his usual jeans and a long-sleeve blue shirt. Those mahogany waves you loved so much were gloriously chaotic, not perfectly coiffed. He was everything, everything you'd been dreaming about for two months, standing there in front of you.

"Baby?" he asked softly, tilting his head slightly, concerned that you hadn't said anything. "Are you happy to see me?"

Your response was to throw yourself against him, your lips smashing into his, hands tangling in his hair. A rumble of satisfaction rolled from his chest, his arms wrapping around you, crushing your body against his. Jesus, you missed him. You had a savage need to feel every single inch of him, to have him as close to you as humanly possible.

Your hands found the hem of his shirt, grabbing it and pulling it over his head. You threw it across the room, your eyes soaking in each of his tattoos, those images you knew so well. You pressed your lips to his neck, your hands running along his chest and stomach that were much more firm than they had been the last time you'd had him shirtless in front of you. Celebrity came with expectation of a certain body image and you knew his manager had him hooked up with a personal trainer.

You pressed kisses along his chest, tracing your tongue over each tattoo there, smiling when you felt him shudder under your hands. His hand cradled the back of your head as you moved further down, lips pressing against the flesh of his belly, the soft hair that trailed into his jeans, leading you exactly where you wanted to go.

Your fingers quickly undid the button on his jeans, slid his zipper down and pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees. You kissed a path along his groin, that lovely spot where his hips and pelvis met.

"Holy shit baby. This is a hell of a hello," he murmured, fingers tangled in your hair as your lips wrapped around him, pulling the length of him into your mouth. "Fuck. I missed your mouth so goddamn much."

You ranked your nails gently along his thighs as you moved your mouth along him. Your tongue slid along the underside, following the vein there and then swirled around the tip. The grip on your hair tightened as his hips rocked forward, plunging him deeper into your throat.

"Fuck princess..."

Smiling at how easily you could get a reaction out of him, you slid him from your mouth, taking his length in your hand. You began working your hand along him as you ran your tongue over his balls. Gently, you took one in your mouth, sucking just hard enough to make him scream out your name. Switching, you worked his balls with your hand, tenderly rolling them and pulling on them. Your tongue swirled around the base of his cock, working your way to the tip before taking him into your mouth again.

Suddenly, he gripped your shoulders, lifting you from the floor and into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he moved you to the shag rug, laying you back on it.

"I have waited too damn long to just come in your mouth," he growled, his lips now devouring your flesh. He yanked your shirt off, undoing your bra and tossing both. "Goddamn." His mouth descended upon your chest, pulling your nipple between his teeth until you shrieked with pleasure. His tongue rolled over the other nipple as his hands pulled at your leggings. Breaking away, he ripped them the rest of the way off. His hands moved to your knees, pushing them apart as he gazed down at you. "I have dreamed of this pussy every single day for the last two months."

"Eddie!" you screamed as he dove forward, his tongue sliding between your folds, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your hips rolled toward him, your hands gripping the shag rug tightly. Fuck, Eddie was so enthusiastic when it came to pleasuring you and he always succeeded. "Jesus baby...oh my god..."

Your eyes rolled back, waves of pleasure gently creating over you, promising the large crash at the end. Eddie slid a finger inside of you, exploring your walls until you almost came off of the bed with a screech.

"There is it," he murmured, pleased with himself, continuing to press along the sensitive flesh within as his tongue worked your clit. He was a fucking master with his tongue, circling and then working shapes around the edges just as you thought you couldn't take it, somehow knowing you needed less pressure.

"Fuck...oh...baby, I can't...oh shit!"

"Oh, yes you can," he replied, his tongue flicking quickly along your clit, "I can feel it, princess. Come on. I've been waiting far too long for this."

Your stomach knotted, your toes pointing as every single muscle tensed in your body. Your body lurched, hands slamming into the floor before gripping the rug again for dear life. That crashing wave was about to roll over you. Eddie's fingers continued to move, each time hitting that delicious spot that simply undid you. His tongue was not letting up, knowing you were close, pushing you over the edge.

"Fuck me!" you screamed, your body shuddering violently up off the floor. Eddie's free hand rested on your belly, gently pressing you back down as he continued to pleasure you gently through the waves of pleasure that coursed through your body.

"I mean, if you insist," he said with a smile, sliding his fingers from you and before you could even completely come down from your high, his cock had replaced them, your body welcoming him home, finally right where he belonged. "Oh fuck baby. You feel so damn good. Yes, I've missed you so fucking much."

"I've missed you," you groaned, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him close. "God, I've missed you."

Eddie's arms wound underneath you, his forehead pressing against yours as he moved his hips, his cock filling you completely. It filled not just your body but your very soul. Being this close to him was replenishing everything that had diminished in his absence. All doubts and fears flew from your mind at the perfection that was the two of you becoming one, your bodies interconnecting like perfect puzzle pieces.

"Baby, you're so perfect," he breathed, his breath gently tickling your skin. "You have no idea how much it kills me to be away from you."

Your hands held his face, gazing into his eyes as your hips met each thrust, your legs wrapped around him, pulling him even deeper. Brown eyes...people compared brown eyes to so many normal, every day things but his were anything but. His eyes were the color of sweet melted chocolate, a warm cup of soothing tea when your soul was aching, the color of the earth that brought life after a long, hard winter. These were the eyes that you wanted to gaze into for the rest of your life.

"Me too," you whispered, your head swimming in the lust and love you had for this man. "I hate it."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna..." he groaned and then his whole body jerked forward, stilling, his eyes closed as you felt his climax filling you completely. He lifted his head, his forearms framing your hand, and held your face in his hands. "I love you. I don't want to be away from you anymore. I can't do it. It's too hard."

"Baby, I hate it too. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do," you said, smiling. "But you have to. As much as I hate it, I know you have to do it. The tour and everything, this is amazing for you and the guys."

"So come with me," he said. "Princess, I can't say goodbye to you again. I won't do it. I fucking hate it. It's so damn hard. This is my Christmas gift to you. I want you to come on tour with me. I know we talked about it and it didn't seem right but being apart isn't right. I know it's a crazy life, but it would be our life. All of this success just feels like bullshit without you with me."

You paused, looking upon the face that you loved so much. Yeah, you'd be leaving everything you knew behind but everything you wanted was right here. Did any of it matter without him? Could you do it?

"Yes," you replied without hesitation. "Yes. I don't want to go one more day without these eyes in my life."

"Yes?" he asked, grinning wide and then he started laughing, pulling you against him and pressing his lips to yours. "Yes! This is the best Christmas gift ever. Seriously baby. You and me, forever."

"Forever," you repeated, pushing those messy locks behind his ears. Yeah, forever with this man sounded like pure heaven.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie munson christmas #christmas smut

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nordleuchten · 5 months

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24 Days of La Fayette - Day 4

This portrait is again one of my favourite pieces of La Fayette (I must be careful to save at least one more favourite of mine for the 24th …) although it employs a stylistic device that I do not necessarily like when it comes to La Fayette. But more on that later.

Portraits in Revolution, Works by Thomas Sully, Marquis de La Fayette, 1825-1826 (12/04/2023).

This is a portrait of La Fayette by American artist Thomas Sully. He first painted an oil study as a preparation for the full length portrait seen above. As you can see, the study does not look particularly like the painting from Scheffer (Day 2). That is because La Fayette actually sat for Sully – sort of. La Fayette was received on September 8, 1824, just two days after his 67th birthday, in the Independence Hall in Philadelphia. It apparently was quite the evening. The city officials later approached La Fayette and asked for his consent to commission a painting of him by Thomas Sully. La Fayette agreed, but his busy schedule demanded that Sully followed him to Washington where the study was painted. The actual painting was finished in 1826 in Philadelphia – La Fayette left America in 1825, never to return and so he never saw this painting with his own eyes.

A short compositional overview of the work:

In the study, Lafayette stands on the north apron of Independence Square before a pillar of an arch, designed by architect William Strickland after the triumphal arch of Septimus Severus in the Roman Forum. The prop was covered with allegorical figures and statues which Sully recorded in a pen and wash sketch, but which he eliminated from the study and final portrait, calling attention instead to his subject. Through the arch, the viewer sees Lafayette’s admirers crowding the windows and roof of Independence Hall. Flags billow from poles along the balustrade while mounted and standing members of one of his escort troops, the Washington Grays, are in the mid ground. Wearing a black suit with white shirt and collar and a black cape lined in red satin held loosely in place by red and gold tassels, Lafayette gazes into the distance, not at the viewer. Sully has given the Marquis a neo-classical oval face and his toupee of close-cropped hair a reddish cast. His proper left arm beneath the cape is akimbo adding mass and strength to his body and his gloved hand holds his right glove that he removed to hold a top hat and cane. The Marquis’ face is unlined, belying the effects of time and gravity.

Lafayette College, Lafayette College Art Galleries, Thomas Sully, Lafayette, study for 1824-1826 (12/04/2023).

As you can see, there is a lot of symbolism and Sully clearly had a very clear picture in mind that he want to paint of La Fayette. The portrait is extremely flattering – La Fayette does not look like a 67 year old that had been in prison for many years, that had seen war and revolution, that had been in exile, lost his wife and a child. He looks fresher, younger and more energetic. Perhaps the artistic liberty taken here is best explained like this:

Sully portrays Lafayette not as he appeared on that September day, but as he might appear in Elysium with his fellow warriors.

Lafayette College, Lafayette College Art Galleries, Thomas Sully, Lafayette, study for 1824-1826 (12/04/2023).

I normally have objection to putting people on pedestals. La Fayette was not young anymore, he was ageing, and I think he earned himself the right to look old. He lived through a great many monumental changes and events; he survived what many others had not survived – there is no shame in being or looking old! But I also have to say that I do mind so much with Sully’s portrait as I normally do.

There is one other thing that always makes me smile when looking at this painting – I can name three paintings from the top of my head where La Fayette wears the same or a very similar outfit.

#24 days of la fayette #marquis de lafayette #la fayette #french history #american history #history #art #thomas sully #1824 #1826 #tour of 1824/1825 #triumphant tour #lafayette college

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stylesharrys · 5 months

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Baby Styles | WILAY Spin-Off

A/N: it's been forever since I wrote when I look at you and I promised ages ago I would do some little spin-off fics... here is one for you guys that I had over on patreon :)

WC: 2,049

Then Y/N sees it, the tears starting to well in her daughter’s eyes as she sinks into Harry’s chest. Her heart starts to break, reaching closer for her baby, but she grabs hold of Harry’s arms as the first of the tears begin to fall.

He frowns down at his little girl, worries fogging his senses and his heart beating sporadically against his chest. Harry holds her closer, eyes shifting to Y/N, who looks completely distraught.

“Dais… what’s wrong? This is exciting. You’re going to be a big sister. We’re going to have a baby Styles!” Y/N tries to sell it, but the child’s mouth only starts to turn downcast, and a small sob slips past her lips.

“But Harry won’t be my Daddy anymore.”

Y/N's got some news and Daisy finally asks Harry to be her real dad.

Daisy’s favourite part of the day has to be bedtime.

Forget playing with her friends at school, or bathtime where Y/N lets her swish around the tub like a mermaid, or Aunt Akasha or Gemma feeding her up with ice cream. Daisy thoroughly enjoys bedtime because more often than not, it’s her only time with her Dad that goes undisturbed.

Since she can remember, Harry has always put Daisy to bed. The exception of those couple of months he was touring a year ago, but he still FaceTimed her at every bedtime and read her a passage from whatever book they had chosen for that week.

Y/N putting Daisy to bed is never the same. She’s always argued so. Y/N doesn’t read the same as Harry. She doesn’t do the voices, or make the faces, or execute the dramatic pauses.

She tries, but it’s not the same. And Daisy has made her opinion on Y/N’s bedtimes clear.

The four-year-old has grown into a complete ball of sass in the past two years, and the entire family knows it.

Y/N argues it’s Harry rubbing off on her, that she’s picking up his quirks and mishaps. Harry tries not to laugh when he watches the child strop off sulking because Y/N’s told her she’s settling her to bed that night.

“Daddy, come look!”

Harry sets the plates on the table as she calls him from the living room. Stifling a yawn, he follows the voice of the little girl and finds her bouncing on the balls of her feet, in front of the coffee table.

She’s drawn a picture, a reasonably artistic one; he won’t lie. It’s of Harry, that much he can tell. He’s sat in the home studio he and Y/N had built out in the garden next to the shed last year, his red guitar sat in his lap with a mop of brown curls on his head.

He grins. “Is tha’ me, petal? Looks good! Should we stick it on the fridge with your other ones?”

She nods, handing him the paper and scurrying past him toward the kitchen, nearly bumping into Y/N’s legs on the way and earning a disapproving look from her mother for it.

“Careful, Dais, it’s hot in here,” Y/N warns gently.

She doesn’t say anything, instead rummages through the drawer beside the fridge for another letter magnet. She retrieves a P and Harry lets her pin it to the fridge door, a triumphant grin to her lips as she places her hands to her hips.

“What do you think, Mummy? Do you like my picture of Daddy?” She asks with bright eyes.

Y/N squints down at the picture, ruffling her daughter’s hair. “Love it, babe. Did Dad’s hair perfectly, didn’t you.” She praises.

Harry squints in teasing offence at his fiance, the front of his curls tied above his head and looking like a small beansprout.

“I thought you liked my hair?” He feigns offence as he regards the young girl and she shrieks out a wholesome laugh at her Dad’s behaviour.

“I do!” She jumps, stilling back on her feet and tilting her head to the side. “But it is getting very long, Daddy.”

Y/N stifles a snort, and Harry leaps forward to smack her bum playfully, Daisy covering her eyes with an amused shriek. “Right you,” Harry turns back to her, “go wash your hands and put your colours away, Mum’s dishing dinner up.”

Daisy doesn’t wait a moment longer when she sees the dino nuggets being piled on her plate, rushing to get her things tidied and hands cleaned.

It leaves Y/N and Harry alone again for a moment, and he takes advantage of it, wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist from behind and burying his face in the crook of her neck.

His hands sprawl out across the expanse of her stomach, heart skipping a beat at the thought of watching it grow again, as it had four years ago.

“Are we gonna tell her tonight?” He asks softly and Y/N hums, taking a shaky breath.

She’s nervous. She doesn’t know how Daisy is going to react about being a big sister. The four-year-old has never even mentioned having a sibling, and everyone is very much aware of how much Daisy enjoys attention.

Y/N’s worried her little girl will kick off into a meltdown and she doesn’t think she can stomach a distraught child tonight.

Harry gives her a reassuring squeeze. “She’s going to be fine with it. Honestly reckon she’ll be obsessed.”

He’s only trying to lighten the weight on her shoulders, which Y/N does appreciate, but if she’s honest, it’s not doing much to help.

She nods with a sigh. “Yeah, she should be alright. Just all new to all of us.”

Settled on the sofa with The Grinch Who Stole Christmas on the TV and three mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table, Daisy and her parents cuddle up on the couch.

The fire is crackling, making the moment all the cosier for the three. Daisy snuggles between Harry and Y/N, her hair in damp braids that Y/N had plaited after her bath and her feet are cosy in a pair of Christmas socks.

Harry has an arm thrown over the back of the sofa, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s shoulder to catch her attention. She looks over to him, sleepy look on her face and Harry thinks he wouldn’t mind settling Daisy a little earlier than usual, just to have some well deserved alone time with his fiance.

He nods his head between them, down to the little girl that’s snuggled against their sides. Y/N purses her lips, blinking back the sleep she desperately needs, and nods.

She shuffles on the sofa, turning her attention to Daisy while Harry pauses the movie. Daisy is quick to frown, something that makes a slight smile creep across her mother’s lips.

“But the doggy!” she whines.

Harry gently lifts her from under her arms and pulls her backwards, so she’s settled in his lap. He keeps his arms around her small middle as they both face Y/N.

“We can watch the doggy in a minute, Dais. Mummy and Daddy have something very exciting to tell you.”

Daisy’s eyes light up, dazzling with curiosity and excitement. “Are we getting a doggy?” She shrieks, hands clapping as she bounces in Harry’s lap. He bites back a loving laugh and pulls her closer to keep her still.

Harry kisses the top of her head, and Y/N reaches to stroke Daisy’s clothed feet.

“No, sweetheart. Not a puppy.”

She frowns, can’t possibly understand what could be more exciting than getting a puppy.

Harry gives her body a gentle squeeze, his eyes on Y/N as she takes another shaky breath. “Mummy’s got a baby in her belly.” He whispers to the four-year-old.

It takes a moment, then another. Daisy doesn’t make a sound, barely even cringes at the mention of a baby. She’s been around enough of them through cousins and family friends to know how needy and clingy and whiney they are.

A frown starts to etch onto Harry’s face as Y/N’s lips part. Why has she not said anything?

“Baby?” she finally repeats, eyes now glued to her mother’s clothed stomach and Y/N nods her head, hands instinctively reaching for her middle.

Harry’s eyes begin to well, can’t believe how perfect his life has become. The woman of his dreams, two children of his own.

“Yeah, petal. Baby in Mummy’s belly.”

He frowns down at his little girl, worries fogging his senses and his heart beating sporadically against his chest. Harry holds her closer, eyes shifting to Y/N, who looks completely distraught.

“But Harry won’t be my Daddy anymore.”

It feels like the world around them has shattered, can’t hear anything but white noise. Harry struggles to swallow down the need to throw up, and Y/N can’t make sense of anything around her.

Does she think Harry won’t be her father anymore?

A chill runs down his spine. He hasn’t heard Daisy call him Harry in two years.

Harry makes quick work of spinning her around in his lap, standing her on the sofa, so she’s looking at him. Daisy’s face is red, blotchy with tears, and she’s started crying so hard she’s given herself hiccups.

He wipes her eyes. “‘Nough of that, petal. I’m always gonna be your Daddy. Where’s this come from?”

Y/N shuffles closer, somehow managing to sit wedged in Harry’s side as she reaches for her daughter, too. She rubs her back soothingly, one hand intertwined with Harry’s.

Daisy shrugs, bottom lip pouted out and quivering. Y/N and Harry never want to see her so upset again.

“Because the baby is Styles, and-and I’m not! And Daddy will love the baby more than me because the baby is Styles like Daddy, but I’m Y/L/N like Mummy. And Mummy will be Styles at the wedding, so I’ll be all alone, and you won’t love me anymore, and I won’t have a Mummy or Daddy.”

She bursts into a fiery fit of tears, unable to stop her entire little body from trembling as the sobs wrack through her. Though both parents struggle to keep their tears at bay, neither of them can seem to help the amusement that trickles across their lips.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Y/N coos.

Harry holds her close, peppering kisses to her cheeks and refusing to let go, heart crushed at the raw sobs that sound through the living room.

“Daddy is going to love baby Styles just as much as he loves you, Dais. You’re always gonna be my little girl,” he promises wholeheartedly, but Daisy isn’t having any of it.

“But I want to be Styles, too! I want to be Styles like Mummy and Daddy and baby.” She wails out breathlessly, face now bright red as she struggles to catch her breath.

Y/N and Harry meet each other's gaze, blinking once, then twice. She wants to be a Styles.

Never once has Daisy said anything about her last name being different from Harry’s. Never once has she related the name difference to him not really being her father, and Y/N doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Okay… we’ll call you Daisy Styles from now on then,” Harry suggests to her, and though it’s a decent proposition, it’s not quite official enough for Daisy.

She wipes her arms and shifts in his hold, now looking between both of her parents and they give her a moment to compose herself, catch her breath and calm her thoughts.

“And my teachers and doctors and everyone! I want everyone to call me Daisy Styles!”

They look to each other, a warm smile spreading across Harry’s lips and Daisy watches them silently converse with wide eyes. Y/N raises a brow, a quirk in the corner of her lips and Harry nods softly, a broad smile breaking across his face.

“Okay,” Y/N breathes.

Daisy’s eyes light up, her back straightening as she quickly wipes her face and sniffles back any remaining tears. Harry squeezes his fiance’s hand, raising it to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles.

“We will get the paperwork and change your name to Daisy Styles. But, you have to promise to be a nice big sister to the baby.”

She nods, quick and eager. Daisy throws her arms around both of her parents, jumping on the sofa between them, and Harry thinks he could fucking burst.

Daisy and Baby Styles.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #wilay

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littleeliza-lotte · 1 year

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Caitlin Finnie and Ian Jon Bourg (x)

#I don’t remember if this has been posted already!??#anyways live laugh love Caitlin Finnie #phantom of the opera #christine daae #Caitlin Finnie #ian jon bourg #phantom #past the point of no return #aminta #don juan triumphant #POTO world tour #POTO world tour revival #phantom of the opera world tour

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gael-garcia · 7 months

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Gael García Bernal as Saúl in Cassandro (2023, Roger Ross Williams)

"[García] Bernal radiates fireball personality as Cassandro, yet the key to his tour-de-force is the simultaneously cheeky and wounded soul he brings to Saúl. There’s no guile to Bernal’s performance, only a triumphant blend of audaciousness, love, and need." — daily beast

#gael garcia bernal #gael garcía #cassandro #filmedit #dailyworldcinema #ggbedit #gifs #usertennant #filmgifs #cassandro 2023 #pain picking just 10 #and that 7th!!!!whew #i've screamed about that scene for days

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tokio-motel · 8 months

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What's up bbg?Can you do a fanfic with 2000s kaulitz twins were bill and Tom are at a meet and greet and there celebrity crush scene forever shows up to the meet and greet to get one of there albums signed and both Tom and bill are are shocked and speechless that M/N is a fan.

KAULITZ TWINS X CELEB READER: MEET AND GREET

hii my beautiful amazing angelic gorgeous wife 😇 erm we are still married so i have the right to call you that ANYWAYS uh if it's bad no it's not

"Jesus fuck how much longer..."

Tom groaned, rubbing his temples with his fingers as he finished signing another girls album, hands starting to cramp. Bill only giggled, cracking his knuckles as he looked over at his brother. "I mean we are here for another.." Bill looked over at the black and white clock hanging onto the wall, "...Hour?" Bill laughed as he watched Toms jaw drop, his eyes that were once nearly closed to exhaustion grow wide like saucers. "ANOTHER hour?! Oh my god...." he complained, whining like a spoiled child as he hit his hand down on the table in frustration, pulling away with a soft 'ow'.

Bill watched as Georg's mouth curled up in a smirk as he watched Tom's mini-tantrum. He could hear he soft snickering of Gustav as he signed another boys album, giving a small "You're welcome!" as the boy walked off. Bill really didn't blame Tom, as his fingers were starting to hurt and he was sweating like a motherfucker. Seriously, sometimes he regretted wearing so much clothing. If only he could take a cold shower, put on a pair or sweatpants and tanktop, sitting in his AC filled house...

"Hi, Bill!" a girl squeaked, making him jump slightly and apologize as he took his pen with trembling hands and signed away. She smiled as she looked down, her teeth so white Bill had to blink due to the glare. "Thanks!" she said, skipping away to go to her brother-or sister. Bill smiled, giving a small wave, before sluming back into his seat.

Tom guffawed, looking down at his younger brother. "Sit back up. We have another 45 minutes to go." Bill winced as he felt a small but firm slap on his shoulder, reluctantly sitting back up and propping himself in his elbows. Tom cleared his throat as a pretty girl came up to him with another album, his handwriting slightly off and a bit sloppy. He looked back at the clock. 42 minutes left. Yes, this was going to be a longggg time.

---

To say Bill's hands were hurting was a huge understandment. He could barely flex his fingers, that damn pen was starting to hurt everytime he held it. He found himself looking up at the clock after every person left, only finding it made time go by slower. Each second felt like a minute, each minute felt like an hour. Really, he just wanted to go back to the tour bus and sleep. It was times like these when he wondered what it would be like if he didn't sing 'It's Raining Men' or if he didn't become famous.

What would his job be? Maybe a fashion designer, or perhaps a teacher? Maybe a manager of some company?

He jumped slightly as Georg pushed him in the shoulder, a brown eyebrow quirked up. "Bill, what's wrong man? You look ill." Georg attempted to put the back of his hand to Bills forehead, but Bill swatted his hand away with a small laugh. "No, no I'm fine. Just uh..a bit tired is all." Georg hummed in agreement, cursing to himself under his breath as somebody walked up to him. He forced a small smile as the boy asked him a few questions, giving Georg a small album to sign aswell.

Tom smacked his lips together as he finished yet another. He looked up to the clock and couldn't help but let out a triumphant laugh as he saw they were down to 15 minutes. Gustav looked in his direction, clapping his hands a few times as he smiled. At this point, Tom couldn't even make out his own signature he gave out. He wasn't even checking out the girls as they walked away from him. He was never like this, never so tired he could barley keep sitting. He turned towards Bill in his seat, pushing a piece of hair behind his hair. He saw how tired Bill looked, how even with all the black eyeshadow that could mess with Tom's vision his brother still had eyebags, turning the pale skin gray under his eyes.

Bill and Tom groaned quietly in union as they saw somebody else come up to them, they turned back around, about to give a soft smile or "Hi!" to the person, but their mouths dropped. A boy with (colored) hair and an album tucked under his arm greeted them before they could, the twins having to blink a few times as their hearts heated faster. No.. It couldn't be him..although with that clothing, that hair, those eyes, and oh FUCK it was M/N. M/N L/N.

"Hi Bill, Tom," he greeted, smiling softly as he placed the album infront of them, " I've been waiting to get an album signed! Lines pretty crazy." He chuckled, a warm and cheery sound that instantly got rid of any anxiety the twins may have had.

Bill took him out his pen quickly as Tom fixed his posture, his face red. M/N watched as Bill signed his name in the corner, how his fingers were trembling and how slow and careful he was being. Tom signed in the other corner, actually holding the pen in a tight fist as he tried to write the best signature he could at the moment. "I uhh..You're M/N right?" OH STUPID STUPID TOM! He wanted to kill himself right there and then, what a dumb question!

But the gorgeous boy infront of them didn't laugh, didn't walk away. No. He stood there with a bright smile, laughing a bit. "Really? What makes you think that?" he teased, cocking his head to the side. Bill cleared his throat, feeling his palms get sweaty. "It's nice to meet you! I'm...Tom and I are big fans." Bill blabbered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he gave a nervous smile. Dear Lord, Tom felt his knees buckle as M/N's face brightened, his smile widening. "Oh? Really?"

The twins nodded, not being able to form words currently. M/N laughed quietly, "Ah, how nice. You both did well tonight! Seriously Tom, I wish I could play guitar!.." (if you do no you don't) "..and your voice never fails to amaze me, Bill.." Tom and Bill could only let out soft 'thank you's', faces flushed with red and pink as they suddenly started to feel the air around them go up by a measly.. 100 degrees.

M/N held out his hands for the boys to shake, their hands feeling clammy and jittery as they held onto their crushes hand, almost sad and disappointed to see him go. M/N grabbed the album left on the table, giving a sad smile. "Hmm.. I have to get going now. It was nice meeting you!" he grinned as he waved, turning around and going out the door. "Bye..!" Tom and Bil said together, smiling as they waved. Their legs felt like jello, regardless of sitting down, and their hearts were beating so fast they could've popped out of their chest.

YES! They were done. Such a good day..a good concert, and a great ending!

"Hi, Tom!"

A girl said, holding out another album for the boy to sign. Bill held back a laugh as Tom sighed to himself before giving a forced smile, grabbing the pen as he bent over to give his signature.

Well...almost done.

#tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x male reader #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x male reader #bill kaulitz x male reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #x male y/n #x male reader #x reader #LMFAO THEY BARLEY TALKED AT ALLLL #my bad bro

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