#loosely based off real experience with my husband | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starcrossedxwriter · 1 year

Text

Oscars Night Part 2 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: So we got Michael's Oscar win… here's Charlotte's! A little fluff and smut with our favs. This gif has nothing to do with the Oscars but he looks damn good so here we are… Enjoy!

Warning: Smut

“And here we have the insanely gorgeous star of the night, Mrs. Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan. Mrs. Jordan, how are you feeling?”

Charlotte slid her hand into Michael Strahan’s as he politely helped her step up onto the platform for her pre-show interview at the 90th Academy Awards. Her stylist had gone for full glam with her outfit, it was a bit more dramatic than she would usually go for but it hit the mark and clearly was a showstopper, which was exactly what Law believed she should be for the night. However, without her husband’s usual arm to steady her, she questioned how she even made it this far down the carpet by herself.

“I am doing amazing, thank you! So excited to be here.” She offered him and the camera a dazzling white smile, which expertly hid the massive waves of anxiety crashing over her.

Her eyes carefully examined the chaotic terrain of the red carpet and wondered silently how her peers sauntered down these red carpets with such ease and confidence. It was certainly not her first award show, it was not even her first time at the Oscars. It was, however, her first time as a nominee and she felt like a fawn testing out its wobbly new legs for the first time. Despite all the award shows and events she had gone to in her career, tonight felt as if she had ascended into a whole new level of terrifying. And it did not help that she had to make it through the evening without the one person who could keep her anxiety in check, the only person who knew the right words to pull her back from the edge of anxiety and doubt.

“Well, first, you look absolutely stunning. Tonight is a huge night for you as a first-time nominee. But it could also be a significant historic night for you and the film industry. You are only one of three women nominated for Best Song and Best Actress in the same year. And you could become the second Black woman to win best actress, and the youngest person to become an EGOT in history. How does that all feel? Are you excited?”

She let out a quick and light chuckle, “No pressure at all, right??” She paused and shrugged. “But honestly, I am trying to not think too much about all of that. I just… I just strive every day to do my best work and be the best vessel for other people’s stories that I can be. Naomi really was the embodiment of that for me. And given the reckoning that is happening across the country, but particularly in our industry over the last few years, I think Naomi’s story is too familiar for far too many people. And it has been great to see the conversations this film has started and how it really centers the journey of survivors. So I am just so proud and honored to be part of it. And while the recognition from my peers this season has been incredible, I am more happy about that. So I’m just looking forward to performing tonight and celebrating the best of the best in our industry. I try not to get too caught up in all the other stuff.”

Her role in the indie film, Bird Set Free, was timely and deeply personal for Charlotte due to her own struggles with abuse. The film tells the story of Naomi, an aspiring songwriter who is assaulted by her boss at her part-time job. The project, loosely based on the screenwriter’s own life, followed Naomi’s journey to recovery and shed real light on the harsh impacts of trauma on survivors. With this role, Charlotte had the rare opportunity to both play the main character and dust off her songwriting skills by contributing to many of the songs showcased throughout the film. As a survivor of abuse herself, Charlotte knew her performance tonight was her moment ensure her performance of “She Used to Be Mine” reflected her character’s and her own experience overcoming trauma. She had poured all that pain from her own journey into that ballad, creating one of her most emotional songs yet.

“That is amazing and we wish you all the best. Before you go, I do have to ask, you are missing the other Michael tonight. I know he is out promoting a little movie folks may not have heard of… just a billion dollar cultural phenomenon.”

Charlotte’s lips curled into a soft smile, her sadness still coloring the edges though she tried to hide it.

“Yes, Michael is promoting Black Panther with the rest of the cast overseas. I am sad my partner in crime isn’t with me but this is a historic moment for him and the entire cast so I couldn’t be prouder. And our marriage works because we both do what we love. So I know he is cheering me on.”

She had repeated that refrain over and over to herself for the last week since Michael revealed he would have to go out of the country to promote the film and would not make it back in time for the Oscars. Work was work and Marvel required a lot of the cast to promote this historic blockbuster. But she would not lie to herself and pretend it was not still disappointing. And while she knew she could not say this to the well-intentioned reporters interviewing her, deep down today only served as a reminder of the downside to being married to a fellow actor: neither of you could be as present as you wanted or should be.

“But,” she continued. “He sent a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and champagne for me and the team while I was getting ready. So if I can’t have him, champagne is a decent replacement.” Her light laughter was cut short by two strong hands wrapping around her waist and settling on her hips, her body pulled back into a familiar embrace.

“Hey honey bee…”

Charlotte whipped around, her legs almost giving out beneath her as she found her husband standing behind her. Her hands immediately ran over his arms as if she had to feel him to believe he was truly there and not a ghost. Tears sprang to her eyes as she drank him in, any and all words stolen right out of her throat.

“W-what…. H-how?” She mumbled as he pulled her into a kiss, her interview long forgotten. The kiss was brief but she felt it, all of his whispers to relax, urges to breathe, and desires for her to enjoy her moment.

Just a moment in his arms made Charlotte feel more at peace than she had been since she woke up this morning. She pulled back from their embrace to study him, her brain still refusing to believe he was really with her and not across the world. She could not stop the wave of lust that hit her as she took in his tux. It baffled her how he always managed to look so damn good.

“Where there’s a will…” he shrugged, smiling down at her and offering her a sly wink. She dabbed her eyes to stop the tears from falling, knowing she would never hear the end of it from her team if she ruined her makeup before the show even started.

“That is just beautiful. Safe to say you are surprised?”

“Yes, 100%! He called me earlier, pretending he was in a whole different time zone,” her tone playfully accusatory as she poked his side. “Usually, I’m pretty hard to get a surprise over on but he definitely got me this time.”

Michael leaned over and offered a quick peck on her nose, Charlotte’s face scrunching up as she blushed.

“You two are definitely going to be relationship goals by the end of the show. Michael, it’s always great to see you and best of luck, Charlotte.”

Given they had not seen much of each other in the last two months since Charlotte was doing Oscar’s press and Michael was promoting the film, the pair found it difficult to keep their hands off each other as they finished the rest of the carpet. With Michael’s calming presence by her side, Charlotte did not desire to rush through the carpet as she normally did. Instead, she savored the moment, posing and grinning and joking with Michael as photographers took their pictures.

Charlotte found it hard not to simply stare at Michael the entire time though. Words could not describe how elated she was to have him there. She could not explain it but the outcome of the evening mattered significantly less to her now that he was by her side. Charlotte was never one to fuss over awards. The only one she had ever truly cared about winning was her Tony. After all, she had risked everything for that shot, a 20% chance at an award she dreamed about since she was old enough to have ambitions.

She wanted the others, aimed for that status of EGOT. But she was young and knew it could take decades to do so. She wanted it, but she also knew this would not be her only chance if it did not work out. That was the reality she chose to remain grounded in. But whatever the outcome, she knew Michael would help her enjoy the night and not obsess over what was to come.

She barely had time to enjoy the first half hour of the show or Michael before she was whisked away from her front row seat to prepare for her performance. This was the only portion of the evening that did not make her nervous. Charlotte’s acting chops were only outdone by her own singing talent. Though she never wanted to a full-time singer, she always gravitated toward roles that allowed her to also sing, which is why musicals were perfect for her. It was as thoughtless as walking or breathing for her to sit at a piano and sing. She just let the words and music consume her, and the audience just melted away like ice on summer day. She could do that in her sleep.

She took one last deep breath before the curtain opened and the spotlight came down on her. She blocked out everyone and everything as she listened to the opening refrain of the song and began to sing. There were no frills or hooks in her performance tonight. It was simply her and an orchestra of all women of color behind her as she sung her heart out. She still remembered the day she wrote this song. She poured out all of the grief and regret she once felt for the pieces of her that died after her ex, the pieces she, at the time, believe she could never get back. She recalled that hopelessness as if it was still part of her, still had its claws so deeply rooted in her soul. She was no longer that woman, but that was who Naomi was when she wrote it and that song represented her and Naomi and countless survivors at their lowest points, when the road to recovery seemed too dark, when all you could do was drown in the regret of the person you weren’t in anymore. It was them at their most vulnerable and Charlotte, ever a performer, showed that with every note.

It was not until the final note played that she came back to reality, her mind unable to ignore the standing ovation and cheers that rung out around her. Her eyes immediately fell to Michael though, whose cheers could be heard above the rest. He gave her a discrete thumbs up and mouthed, “I love you,” as the show went to commercial break and the lights went down.

Like a well-oiled machine, she had no time to rest before she was ushered backstage and back around to her seat before the commercial break ended. She hated that her categories were among the last of the evening. She enjoyed the Oscars but sitting and waiting all night was not her idea of fun. And though it was great to see friends and people she admired win throughout the night, she could not deny that it felt as if she was dragging toward the end of the show.

She rolled her neck and straightened up in her seat as John Legend walked up to the microphone and launched into his scripted speech. His words sounded muffled in her ears as she sat there, unable to register anything. She was sure whatever his spiel was about the importance of music in film was true but now that her category was mere moments away, all the anxiety she had pushed off was crashing over her like a tsunami.

Her mind only checked back into reality when she heard the announcer read her name and heard a few bars from her song in the movie. She instinctively sat up and put a smile on her face, knowing the camera would be on her from that moment forward, win or lose. Her hand sat in Michael’s lap as he held her hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles in the inside of her wrist, his nonverbal cue to relax. His grip was tight but not unwelcome as she waited to hear if she would make history.

“And the Oscar for Best Song goes to…” Charlotte closed her eyes as she waited with bated breath, the seconds inching by as John opened that damn envelope. “Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan, She Used to Be Mine.”

Charlotte’s face immediately fell into her hands as she heard her name, her shock paralyzing her in her seat. Everyone around her jumped up with loud applause, cheers and whistles filling her ears. It was not until Michael discreetly tugged on her arm that she broke out of her trance and stood up. She hugged him tightly and kissed him before making her way to the stage.

After her quick obligatory hug to John as he handed her the statue, she stood in front of the mic and waited for a moment until the cheers died down. She examined the card in her hand, reading it for a moment.

“Wow… I am honestly just in shock. Literally just wanted to read it to make sure it really said my name,” she chuckled, a few cheers and laughter breaking out as she paused, her brain moving too slow to remember her speech.

“T-this… this is an amazing honor.” Her voice broke slightly as she continued, the weight of this moment starting to truly hit her as she spoke.“T-thank you to the Academy, it is a true honor to be recognized by one’s peers. U-Um, thank you to the entire team that worked on this song with me. It was a blessing and honor to tell this story with you. Thank you to Christina, our amazing screenwriter, for trusting us with this story, for trusting me with your story. I… I can’t think straight and left my notes at my seat so I am saying honor a lot, which is weird,” Charlotte rambled. “And now I’m rambling, everyone who knows me knows how on brand this is. So I will just say apologies to anyone I forgot. But thank you all so much. No song is created alone and I owe this to all of you for pouring your souls into this piece of art.”

“Lastly, to my dad and siblings and my friends, thank you for listening and enduring all the terrible songs I wrote when I was 10. Your unwavering support of my love for music got me here. And to my husband, thank you for all your love and dedication to me and to supporting my dreams. I love you so much. Thank you!”

She lifted the Oscars in the air slightly and smiled before turning to walk off stage. As she passed folks backstage, everyone offered her hugs and congratulations. However, Charlotte barely registered any of it, she just let the PAs guide her where she needed to go to be back in her seat for Best Actress. She still could not believe that had truly happened. Part of her was still waiting for someone to find her and tell her it was a mistake and rip it out of her hands. She was officially an EGOT, something she had always wanted but felt so far out of reach. And it was finally hers.

“See, I told you,” Michael whispered as she settled back into her seat. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the that held her wedding band. “That’s why I’m always right.

“How could I not know that by now??” She whispered as she leaned over to kiss him on the lips. And he was not wrong, Michael said every day since she was nominated that she would walk away with at least one Oscar tonight. She just had not believed him.

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’ this whole time,” he joked. “An EGOT… man, I’m so proud of you, baby.”

They shared another deep kiss before the lights flickered, signaling that the commercial was over and the cameras were about to roll again. Charlotte’s stomach did backflips as she watched Mahershala Ali walk up to the mic. This was the award that would truly determine how she felt about this historic night. Of the two awards she was nominated for, this was the one that held more weight to her. She was proud to win Best Song, but Charlotte was the most critical of her acting. It was the craft she had to go to school for, study, and train to be her best at. She never believed she was a strong actor. And though she would not be all that disappointed if she lost, she knew it would be the affirmation she needed to finally cast all doubt aside.

“These five women gave us performances that blew us away. From a spunky young teen to a survivor trying to rebuild her life, these performances made us laugh, made us cry, and made us question our world. These are the nominees for Best Actress.”

Charlotte watched the reel closely, her heart filling with pride as she watched snippets from some of her own personal favorite performances from the year. This was a tough category, and Charlotte knew she would be happy to see every single woman walk away with it. She wanted it, but at least she knew it would go to someone truly deserving if she lost. Michael’s grip was now on her thigh through the slit in her dress and almost painful as she, once again, straightened up for the camera.

“And the Oscar goes to… Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan, Bird Set Free.”

She shook her head in disbelief but she stood up quicker this time, tears already streaming down her face. She repeated the same path toward the stage after hugging and kissing her husband.

“Wow ok, being up here a second time is kinda perfect so I can say everything I forgot the first time.” She paused as the crowd applause renewed. “U-um ok, thank you once again to the Academy. First, I want to say what a blessing it is to be even included among this insanely talented group of nominees. I want to thank the entire cast, crew, production team of this movie. I was so insanely proud to come to work each day and bring this story to life. And proud to wake up daily and portray the story of Naomi, a story that is too familiar to myself and many of us in this room and many of you watching tonight: the story of a survivor who took their power back and decided to thrive. Our world and our industry has a ways to go but I want every survivor here and watching to know that I see you, I love you, and this is for you.” She paused as the crowd applauded her.

“Lastly, I want to thank my husband, Michael. Your…” she looked up at the ceiling for a moment as she tried to stop tears from falling. “Your love for me is unlike anything I have ever known and there isn’t enough time or enough words to adequately express how grateful I am to walk this Earth each day with you by my side and spend those days loving you and being loved by you. There has never been a dream that you have not encouraged me to chase and never been a door that you haven’t helped me push open when I doubted whether I could do it myself. I would not be here tonight if it weren’t for your unwavering belief in me. Thank you for being you and for always encouraging me to be my fullest and most authentic self. I love you to the moon and back over and over and over again.” She blew him a kiss before smiling and offering a last broad thank you to the entire crowd before turning to exit the stage.

From there, the night felt like a blur of congratulations, interviews, and parties. She endured all of them, the chaos and frenzy of every event, though she really just wanted to retreat to her hotel room with her husband.

Finally, on their drive to the third after party, Charlotte said, “How committed are you to going to this party?”

Michael raised his eyebrow and chuckled, “Tapping out already, old lady?”

She rolled her eyes, “Shut uppppp. Seriously, you wanna just head back to the hotel?”

Michael merely shrugged. “Not up to me, baby girl. It’s your night, Oscar winners get whatever they want for at least a week. So you’re callin’ the shots. So what do you want?”

She tilted her head as she studied him for a moment, the lust she felt earlier in the night returning with full force now.

She slid across the limo to sit by him, her legs straddling his hips. It was a bit dangerous in a moving car but she did not care. She leaned in and kissed him softly, before moving down to his neck. She sucked softly on his sensitive spot, smirking as a moan escaped his lips.

“You know what I want, baby,” she whispered in his ear, his hands immediately going to grip her ass.

“Aye, brah!” Michael called out to the driver.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take us back to the hotel. I’ll triple your tip if you get there within 10 minutes.”

Charlotte laughed as they continued making out like two horny 20 year olds. Charlotte willed Michael to fill her right then and there, but he refused, deciding they could wait until they got to their suite. By the time they reached their hotel, in record time thanks to their motivated driver, Charlotte’s need was so overwhelming she felt as if she might die if he did not touch her.

The moment their suite door slammed suit, the pair were all over each other. They made quick work of removing Charlotte’s dress as they kissed hungrily, Michael pushing her body against the wall of the hotel room as he kissed every inch of skin he could find.

Charlotte let out a small yelp as Michael hoisted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He threw her down, immediately hooking his fingers on the small fabric of her thong and sliding it down. Michael placed a trail of soft gentle kisses slowly down her body, starting at her neck and working his way down to her soft stomach. He took special care with her breasts, his mouth engulfing her nipple as he sucked lightly. Her groans of pleasure filled his ears and spurred him on as he switched sides, ensuring he gave each equal treatment. He knew Charlotte loved nipple play and he knew exactly which buttons to press to turn her into a blubbering mess in his hands.

By the time Michael reached her lower stomach, Charlotte was panting, her pleads for more were on the tip of her lips, her pussy aching to be touched.

“B-baby, please,” she begged.

“Let me take care of you, honey bee,” he whispered, placing a kiss and softly biting her inner thigh.

“You know how much I love you, Els? How fuckin’ perfect you are?” He asked as he alternated between soft kisses and gentle bites that drove Charlotte wild. Each kiss got closer and closer to Charlotte’s aching core but not close enough.

His hands pushed her legs open, her flower already dripping wet for him. He licked his lips as he prepared for his favorite meal.

He immediately dove between her legs, his tongue caressing her sensitive bud and causing her back to arch off the bed.

“F-Fuck! J-just like that, baby,” she moaned as a deep shudder of pleasure racked through her body.

Charlotte’s hands gripped the comforter as he pushed her up a mountain of pleasure. The things Michael could do with his mouth were otherworldly. Charlotte quite literally often saw stars. He knew everything there was to know about Charlotte and her body. He did not have a college degree but he had a ph.D in his honey bee. So every time he was between her legs, he made sure she was more than well taken care of, often taking her body and pleasure to new heights she could not even fathom.

As he inserted two fingers inside her, Charlotte knew it would be one of those marathon, new heights type of evenings. Her moans and screams created a symphony throughout their hotel suite as Michael spelled out his love for her with every kiss, lick, and touch.

Feeling how close she was to her peak, Michael increased his speed, curling his two fingers into her G-spot.

Charlotte let out a breathless scream as Michael sent her over the edge. Her words were incoherent as waves of pleasure pulled her deeper and deeper under the surface.

He gave her no time to recover as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace as he emerged from between her legs. He roughly pressed his lips to hers, allowing Charlotte to taste herself on his lips.

“Just like honey,” he whispered, causing her to smile as he recalled something he said to her the first time they had sex, the genesis of his second favorite nickname for her.

She whimpered against his lips as the pleasure became overwhelming.

“I-It’s too much, B-Bakari,” she moaned as she felt her orgasm building again too fast and too soon.

“Take it, baby. I know you can,” Bakari whispered in her ear, his deep voice causing Charlotte to acquiesce to his will immediately. She would do whatever he asked of her, ride the waves of whatever pleasure he was willing to give her. “You got one more, baby girl. I know you do.”

Bakari smirked as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open with every moan. They had been together for years and the sight of her cumming never got old to him. She looked perfect, wild and uninhibited.

It did not take long for his expert ministrations to send her tumbling down yet another earth-shattering orgasm.

Her vision went white as she came on his hand, Michael whispering sweet nothings to her.

“Good girl. That’s right, cum for me, baby.”

He finally removed his hands from inside her, watching her come back to reality.

“You’re…a… fuckin’ menace…” she whispered after a few minutes of silence, causing Michael to chuckle. “I can’t feel my damn legs.”

“You said you wanted me, baby girl. So I’m giving you all of me. And there’s still a lot left.”

He gently slapped her thigh, spurring her to push herself up on her forearms.

“Hey,” she grabbed his arm and pulled him in for a soft kiss. The entire evening had been frenzied and chaotic. She just wanted one moment that was slow and intimate, a true moment of quiet between the pair of them before the night was over. “Thank you, Bakari. Tonight was perfect. I don’t des-”

He stopped her and captured her lips with another kiss before saying, “Aye, none of that today. You deserved every moment of it and more. I’ll never let you forget that. Now lay back down so I can keep showing you how I proud I am of you, aight?”

She laughed and laid back on the soft comforter and nodded. “I’m all yours baby.”

Tag list: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @reelwriter19 @bangtanxmegan @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld @destinio1 @lynaye1993

***

AN: Bird Set Free is a fake movie, of course lol but She Used to Be Mine is a real song if folks were wondering - from the musical Waitress. I’m obsessed with it.

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut

243 notes · View notes

dolce-peach · 2 years

Note

Hiiii I'm pretty new to your blog so I'm not sure if this is okay but I was wondering if u could write this really angsty whump of Anakin where the reader and he have been together for a really really long time and unconsciously he's neglected them and he comes home and sees that he's forgotten that it's their birthday and he feels horrible and he promises himself to be a better husband and it ends in fluff cause i can't take angst (its loosely based on the song Birthday Cake by Dylan Conrique ) thank you so much and no pressure <3

Also i LOVEEEEEE YOUR WORK VHDJDHGIJRHDU

as we go along

pairing: anakin skywalker x reader

warnings: angst

a/n: ahhh i’ve never written for anakin before, so i hope i did this wholesome request justice 🥺 thank you so much for your love and support, anon!! 🥰❤️ i kinda threw in some personal experience in there (even tho the guy i had dealings with was a real shitbag in the end -- men are trash sometimes) tried my best to make it floofy at the end there 🥲 hope you like it!!

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire @just-another-loki-fangirl

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

Normally you would’ve been pacing around the sitting room of your Coruscant apartment.

Anakin was late, later than usual. You figured that he must’ve been in a sticky situation to not have sent any communication. Still, while you were waiting in the comfort of your home, you couldn’t help but worry.

Everyone knew he was reckless and never thought twice about his decisions. That’s strangely what you loved about him. He always spoke his mind, and he didn’t hesitate before throwing himself in between you and harm’s way. There was always this silent look in his eyes, behind all the arrogance and subtle bravado.

You sighed as you sat in the tiny window seat of your home, overlooking the city. You looked for a sign in the sky, drawing your legs closer. Who were you kidding? He was probably halfway across the galaxy still, in the heat of battle. You were sure he wasn’t thinking about you.

Because those days, he never was.

You guiltily missed when you consumed his thoughts. You knew it went against everything Anakin stood for as a Jedi, but you missed the days where he’d skip Council meetings and training to come spend time with you. Now in the heat of the war, that all seemed like a forgotten dream.

It’s fine, you told yourself. As long as he’s alive.

You turned as you heard the door of your apartment slide open and closed with a soft click.

He looked tired and worn, and you could’ve sworn he smelled like grime, oil, and sweat, but it was him. Dark circles hung from his eyes as he began peeling off his robes as he made his way to the shower, one article at a time.

“Hey,” you called.

Your face was flushed as you stood up. He didn’t even acknowledge you before sliding the curtain closed.

Your mouth was dry as you flattened your hands against your robes. Swallowing hard, you decided to brew some tea.

It was something you’d always done whenever he came home. He never liked the taste of alcohol, especially when he was grumpy after a long day. He was almost like a child that way. You had your tea, and he had his steamed milk with a small spoonful of honey. It put him straight to sleep.

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the shower shut off.

“Anakin?” you called. Hearing no answer, your shoulders deflated. “Ani?”

You still put your tea and his cup of steaming milk on a small tray before carrying it to your room.

Sure enough, he had fallen asleep on his side of your bed, barely in the robes he slept in. His curly dark locks were wet with some still dripping on his face. You set your tray down and grabbed a spare towel. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you began gently drying his hair.

He occasionally stirred in his deep sleep from your movements. You couldn’t help but admire his relaxed features, running a finger along the scar near his eye, trailing down to his jaw.

You drew your hand back when he hummed. “Ani...”

“Hm?”

You opened your mouth but closed it, pursing your lips as you sighed. “Nevermind. Sweet dreams.”

When you changed and settled in your bed beside him, you turned your back away. The faint but sweet scent of your tea hung in the air. As you buried your head in your pillow, you closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep as fast as possible.

You wanted to cry, to say the least. It wasn’t just that night. You felt alone every single night, even when he was home with you. He was always worried about other things, things you couldn’t possibly understand simply because you weren’t a Jedi. No matter how many times you said you were there for him and dropped everything you were doing to help, you still felt like he kept things from you.

It scared you.

You barely slept, and when you did finally fall into a light slumber, you felt his arms wrap around your waist.

The soft morning sun seeped through the blinds. He buried his nose in your neck, breathing your scent in as his lips brushed over your skin. He murmured your name as you ran your hand down his arm to weave your fingers through his.

“Sorry I dozed off early last night,” he said, his voice low and scratchy with sleep.

“You were tired,” you said patiently. “I’d do the same.”

His thumb drew circles into your waist before sighing heavily. “No rest for the weary,” he joked bitterly. “I heard from Obi-Wan that we’re supposed to head to another system today. Cleaning up another mess...”

“Today?”

“I know, I’m sorry...”

You shook your head before turning to look at him.

He really didn’t remember anything the two of you had planned months in advance. He was going to take a temporary leave of absence for a few days and take you to celebrate your birthday on your home planet. You weren’t even surprised that he had forgotten, but it still didn’t change the fact that you were disappointed. As you told yourself numerous times before, you were sure he was preoccupied with other things.

Playing the potential argument out in your head, you decided to bite your tongue.

You cupped his cheek and mustered your best smile. “No, it’s your duty.”

He furrowed his brow deeply. “Duty...” he echoed, preoccupied with brushing your hair from your face. “Did I do something wrong?”

Your eyes widened. “No, of course not!” you nearly exclaimed.

“Then why do I get the feeling that you’re keeping something from me?” came the question softly. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“You too,” you said. “I’m here for you. Always.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” he said, his brow deeply furrowed. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

The backs of his fingers stroked your cheek, catching you off guard. You couldn’t help but savor his touch you were deprived from for so long. Even his unforgiving metallic prosthetic gave you comfort. Combined with his whisper, “Tell me.”

You tried to avert your gaze, but he kept his hand cradling your face. His lips were so close to yours that your breath hitched in your throat.

“I’ve missed you,” you started with hesitation. “I’ve missed this -- just you holding me while the rest of the world continues to turn outside. You’re never here, Ani, and when you are, your mind is out there in the stars, in the war. It’s like...it’s like I don’t exist. Not really, anyway. I’m just a warm body for you to hold.”

You didn’t mean to say that much, but something about the gentleness in his usually fierce gaze made your tongue loose. You couldn’t help but tremble when you realized you had finally spoken your mind after months of crying alone.

He was thinking behind those eyes. His mind was spinning in a whirlpool of guilt.

But then he kissed you. Your eyes were wide, half expecting him to make a verbal response, but instead, he only tightened his grip around your waist and molded his lips into yours. You couldn’t help but be breathless. His taste was just as intoxicating as it always was, drawing you in deeper.

Stars, what you would give to freeze that moment so you could live in it forever.

His breath was warm against your lips when he pulled back, but instead of saying something, anything, he leaned over you, pressing kisses into your neck before trailing to your throat. Exhaling shakily, you gripped the sheets that covered you.

He pulled back slowly. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone like this. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you here.”

“I’ve been so lonely, Ani.”

“I know.”

“I know you have duties, and I have mine, but...” You left out the inevitable.

He shook his head. “I love you.”

He had only said those words maybe once. The two of you had gotten used to keeping your relationship discreet that you never noticed how much you never really craved to hear those words. Anakin showed how much he cared, and that was enough.

“I love you,” he said again. “And I promise you, I will be better.”

Your eyes grew blurry with tears. “Anakin...”

“And you were never just a warm body,” he said. “You’re the only person in this entire galaxy who understands me.”

“Do...do you mean that?” you couldn’t help but ask.

He gave a small smile. “Of course.” He couldn't hide his growing grin. “I mean, apart from Obi-Wan. He seems to know me better than I know myself.”

When you laughed, the edges of his eyes crinkled. There were only a few times when Anakin smiled -- really smiled. He was always so serious, trying to be level-headed. It was like he never got to grow up and be a boy. You knew his shoulders sagged with the weight of responsibility.

Cold metal from his robotic fingers traced your lips. “There’s that pretty smile.”

His longer hair tickled your skin as he leaned down and kissed you again. Your hands hesitantly rose to his chest, smoothing their way around his ribcage. You felt the grooves of his ribs, his muscles, as his lips were soft against yours.

“Do you have to go?” you whispered when he pulled back.

“Well...” he trailed off. “I can’t leave you alone on your birthday, can I?”

Your eyes widened. “You remembered?”

Humming, his lips brushed against your cheek. “Check the nightstand.”

You flashed him a look before blindly reaching over. Eventually you felt the cold marble of the nightstand before your fingers landed on a small box.

“What’s this?” you mused. “Ani...”

“Just open it,” he laughed.

You sat up in bed as you lifted the small lid. A pearl on a silver chain lay in its bed of navy velvet. Your hand shot up to your mouth in shock. The pearl was cold in your fingers, but stunning as it gave an iridescent shimmer in the soft morning light.

You looked up at him, biting your lip. “Can you help me put it on?”

He smiled, gently moving your hair from your neck as he lay the chain on your skin. With the clasp fastened, the necklace fell against your collarbones, the pearl resting in the center of your chest.

“Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm. “Sorry, I can’t take you to your home planet today, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You sighed happily, your fingers brushing against the chain. The thought of not seeing him again for at least a few weeks was unbearable, but it was easier with him there at that moment. It was almost like he gifted you strength.

But seeing him shirtless gave you other ideas.

“Well...” you trailed off. You shifted, the strap of your nightgown falling off your shoulder. “You could make it up to me now...?”

It only took a moment before it dawned in his eyes and he pulled you close.

“Stars, you’re gonna be the end of me.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin #anakin x reader #skywalker x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #reader insert #angst #fluff #clone wars #requests open

264 notes · View notes

rynulle · 1 year

Text

finished the ref sheets of the two main fate ocs for my hgw! their setting is the second holy grail war, the one that went so notoriously awful that the three families decided getting the church involved was a better idea than letting clowns like them run around without oversight again

more details about them below :3

zhenya is the first of the makiri line to follow zouken to fuyuki bc of her deep respect and devotion to him as a mentor figure (that's actually half-reciprocated; in looking up to him growing up, she also unfortunately saw him as a role model so speaking with her is like a weird mirror to a subservient version of himself)

she was an entomologist that researched magecraft capabilities of insects in the clocktower and used two of her own children as test subjects on crest worm implantation. her oldest died during the experimentation, but her second daughter vasilisa (lisa as she asks to be called) survived the modified process though was disfigured similar to kariya and suffers painful effects like him.

as i said before, zhenya is likely the ancestor of kariya, byakuya, and shinji and the matou family went several generations without any viable magus head. zhenya's circuits are dogshit and she knows it, which is why she began experimenting with crest worm implantation capabilities so much to begin with. she viewed her circuits as her weakness, and one she could surely overcome with enough study and test subjects. and being in london in the mid 19th century, she wouldn't have been the only one exploiting the vulnerable for unethical testing.

after mastering the process and polishing it to shine unlike anything anyone's ever seen, zhenya implanted herself with a subspecies of crest worm resembling fireflies she can deploy offensively and use as winged bombs. while she's still in pain and suffers the usual crest worm effects, she is much closer to sakura's level of function with them than kariya despite her weak constitution.

this is due to her expertise as well as hand-raising several generations of specimens before implanting them within herself - while the implant process was only a few months, she began preparations ten years before even considering infesting herself. when not influenced by outside factors, zhenya is a careful and meticulous person who doesn't act until she's certain victory is within sight.

after her command seals appeared, zhenya killed her unfaithful husband and moved to fuyuki to participate in the war under the guidance of her grandfather, who had already accepted a proposed alliance between the matou and tohsaka houses on her behalf. the alliance would last until the "rabble" of the non-three family masters were eliminated and the "real" heaven's feel ritual could begin.

on the other hand, tsuru is based on the loose canon framework of nagato tohsaka having a daughter who created the war format the heaven's feel ritual used going forward after the first attempt with justeaze, nagato, and zolgen.

tsuru tohsaka doesn't have the excuse of a makiri/matou upbringing making her the way she is. she was raised by nagato tohsaka who did his best to impart his morals and philosophy on his only daughter, but only succeeded in piquing her interest in the more barbaric passages of scripture - especially anything involving martyrs or what romans did. it inspired her!

while not a prodigy, tsuru is a VERY skilled magus for being an early generation tohsaka (which aren't generally known for their prowess as mages even by fsn/zero, least of all in the time period this hgw takes place in) and has an unparalleled understanding of theory, which she showed off in her proposal of updating heaven's feel into a war form.

the most i'll say for now about how fucked she is is that she pioneered the orphan basement but for entertainment. zhenya, a matou who's outright inspired by zouken, is repulsed by her initially.

the alliance was agreed to three years before the war, and for those three years tsuru and zhenya met periodically to discuss strategy. tsuru was intrigued by the was zhenya seemed to see through her elegant and charming facade, wanting to know more about the older woman (who is very clearly not japanese but stubbornly insists on being called zeniko matou despite tsuru knowing her real name) who seems to understand her when everybody else accepts whatever act she's putting on.

zhenya hated her, but begrudgingly admitted she was a useful partner due to tsuru's effortless talent. that being said, her hatred of tsuru eventually edges about as close to love as someone like zhenya could get (though this is after a LOT of weird insane yuri) which is fully reciprocated by tsuru, who had scratched out her plan of killing zhenya during the war in favor of dismembering her once she finally won. she was robbed of the chance though; zhenya was only the third master to die. she barely made it a week into the war before lancer's master shot her dead out of vengeance for what she did to his dog.

#these women SUCK #tsuru tohsaka #zhenya makiri #fate oc #fate #tsuzhe #hgw2 #oc stuff #idk if i ever used that tag but i should

11 notes · View notes

zenjestrr · 8 months

Note

So, for those Baldur's Gate questions, how about: 1, 2, 10, 21, and 39.

Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they’re from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision? (1) I'm gonna talk about the ones that have made it to Act 2, I have like a million that haven't even left the nautiloid yet cuz I just played Barbie's Dress Up in the CC and quit lol

Zeneeva: Blue Dragonborn (they/them) that started off as a Paladin of the Ancients and went Oathbreaker after reviving Mayrina's husband with the wand. I ended the game as a Paladin 3, Fiend Warlock - Pact of the Blade 6, Gold Dragon Sorcerer 3 (honestly only grabbed Draconic Sorcerer for the aesthetic tbh). This was my first full release character that I beat the game with on Tactician. although tbh I really only went Tactician because I was using a mod that let me bring the whole squad with me so it was my attempt to compensate for having access to like 10 goons every battle lol. I have no real headcanon for this character. but the fact that Tav is from Baldur's Gate and Dragonborn specific dialogue choices imply having a clan makes me believe that they grew up in a tightknit Dragonborn community in the city. I also made them a Guild Artisan (for optimization reasons since there are none of the companions have this background so it's an extra source of inspiration and the skill bonuses are nice), so maybe their family had a crafting business or something that they helped out with idk. maybe they went Paladin of the Ancients as an adult because they saw how shit animals were treated in the city and decided to defend nature. I will replay this character once support for this game is finally done and Larian implements their final patch

Zenuuja: Dark Urge half-orc (she/her) Spore Druid/Monk. She started off as a Druid and then as she had some uhhh...."accidents" tried to control her urges better by going Monk (this is the RP reason, meta reason is I want my final build to be Spore Druid 2, Open Hand Monk 6, Thief 4). She is loosely based off of my Bhaalspawn from Baldur's Gate 1 & 2 (named Zenuuva) who has a half-orc kensai/mage. I wanted to go druid back in BG1 but classes in the old school Baldur's Gate games were race locked so only humans and elves could be druids. so I went with an axe throwing battlemage build instead. She will reject the urges as best as she can. I already know the Dark Urge plot and backstory so I won't fill that in here so I don't spoil people who want to experience it. I guess I sort of headcanon her as blood related to my BG1 character in some way.

Xabal: (he/him) started off as a Rogue and is now an Assassin 3, Gloom Stalker 3 and will eventually be Assassin 3, Gloom Stalker 5, Champion 3, Great Old One Warlock 1. Reason: Assassin is to help with surprise attacks and round 1 bonuses. Gloom Stalker up to 5 for all the insane bs Gloom Stalker Rangers get plus extra attack and Misty Step and all that. Champion for the crit bonus since half-orcs do triple damage on crits instead of double and that one point in GOOlock because when you get a crit it basically applies an AoE Fear effect and the Fear status is busted in this game. I made him to see how Minthara is like so the tieflings had an accident. He's also installing brain worms like eye drops. RP-wise the only thing I know so far is that he thinks the world fucking sucks and views death as a mercy if done quickly and he was a career assassin before the events of the game.

Was there something about the character creator that just couldn’t capture your Character? Please tell us about their hair, facial hair, tattoos, piercings, disabilities, their trans or intersex body, or anything else you’re comfortable sharing. (2)

I was already familiar with the CC because I played EA. if anything experiencing the CC of full release allowed me to be more creative since this CC is way more expansive than what we got before. I can never truly make someone that looks "like me" exactly so I tend not to try. especially since we cannot alter the dimensions of the faces in this game. the closest I got was this lil guy:

but this still doesn't exactly look like me but out of all the available options it's....close enough kiiiind of not really

Honestly kudos to the art team, the Dragonborn options are fucking fantastic. it's why I went Dragonborn even though, without mods, the Dragonborn are objectively the worst race in the game from a pure minmax perspective (maybe tied with Humans idk)

Do you have a favorite member of the Goblin Camp? Is it the same as your Character’s? (10)

if it means anyone in the Goblin Camp, not just the actual goblins then

Zeneeva's favorite was the ogre guard cuz he was charmingly stupid. Zenuuja liked Abdirak the Loviatar Priest ...it's quite obvious who Xabal likes the most based on what's going on in the pics

What are your Character’s thoughts on the strange artifact that was in Shadowheart’s possession? Did it jump to your pack because you changed her out of your party? (21)

Zeneeva was curious but not curious enough to pry. Very much a "if it's important I'll find out" sort of mentality. Shadowheart literally never left the party (she was the romance option). plus I was using a Party Limit Remover mod for this run so nobody did. Zenuuja was too focused on her dank urges to really worry about Shadowheart's spiky d20

Xabal got super annoying about it after it flared up at the goblin camp but it's still in Shadowheart's possession at the moment. Since this run is going evil (and I will go the evil route with Shadowheart's story) she's not leaving the party, especially since the evil route has less companions to choose from than the good/neutral routes (Wyll and Karlach leave you and you need to convince Gale to stay, although I didn't recruit Gale this run so I'm curious to see how that plays out)

What does your Character think of Raphael? (39)

Zeneeva: did not trust him. told him to fuck off Zenuuja: initial reaction was to reject him but wonders if he can fix her murder hobo thoughts Xabal: not against working with him but not eager to do it either.

#bioticmindtrick

3 notes · View notes

hobbitprincess · 5 months

Text

I feel like I finished five books this week???? I think that is accurate?????

I read The Bell Jar which OOF. I mean, it's The Bell Jar. What do I need to say. Only picked it up because it's so hyped, tried to read it years ago and hated it, but liked it more this time (especially the first half. The second half is not good to get through but I got through it).

Read Dogs of Summer which was very gross and at times disturbing, but I liked it. I loved the visceral descriptions of how much the narrator struggled with her feelings for Isora. Either I hated the ending or it went over my head. The setting was described so well. My favorite chapter was when they were walking each other home, laughing their heads off and walking in weird patterns because "it makes you less tired." "Come on, I always walk you."

Listened to The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, which was just amazing. The audiobook is fantastic, but I'm sure the experience of actually reading it is great. I can't wait for the inevitable movie. I loved that I know enough Hollywood history to know who characters are inspired by/loosely based on. Loved the characters, and that no one was perfect. Everyone felt very real.

Read Play It As It Lays, which was arguably the worst choice for my first Joan Didion. I really did not like it at all. Everyone sucked, the story was sort of weird to follow and felt very disjointed. BUT I read the start of Slouching Towards Bethlehem and I'm liking it so far! Growing up around and in LA gives me a weird fondness toward the city... a familiarity that places frequented in childhood gives. Very very excited to read more.

OH! And My Last Innocent Year. I listened to this one because the cover is SO pretty. I really liked it. The writing is great, and I love how she handled complex issues with such nuance, and how she wrote the affair with no romance. This and Evelyn Hugo were probably my favorites of the week.

I've since started Wuthering Heights (on Kindle, as my book is packed away) which I've never read, and also Winter in Sokcho (in print), which I saw recommended on youtube or instagram or somewhere by Lauren Louise. I love Winter in Sokcho so much already that I was only a couple chapters in when I ordered Elisa Shua Dusapin's other book, The Pachinko Parlor. Her writing is SO atmospheric and pleasant, almost like an impressionist painting of a book.

#reading #audiobooks #personal #books #been reading a lot to cope with the upcoming move #which I will talk about later #feeling v superstitious about it so keeping very quiet

0 notes

mythoscorner · 7 months

Text

Queen Hera

The source is blue

This is my commentary

Beginning Encyclopedia readings about Queen Hera

Hera was, according to some accounts, the eldest daughter of Cronos and Rhea, and a sister of Zeus. (Hom. Il. xvi. 432; comp. iv. 58; Ov. Fast. vi. 29.) Apollodorus (i. 1, § 5), however, calls Hestia the eldest daughter of Cronos; and Lactantius (i. 14) calls her a twin-sister of Zeus. According to the Homeric poems (Il. xiv. 201, &c.), she was brought up by Oceanus and Thetys, as Zeus had usurped the throne of Cronos; and afterwards she became the wife of Zeus, without the knowledge of her parents. This simple account is variously modified in other traditions.

Going based off gut feeling Heista is the eldest with Hera being the twin of Zeus at least time wise, however I'm not sure if that would cause conflict with Kronos eating his young as there isnt any record that I've seen stating Kronos also ate his daughters.

However that doesn't mean he didn't, I believe he absolutely ate all the children he could as in my own experiences Kronos is a fearful being to say the least.

But this is a loose reading of an Encyclopedia, I would like to read the Apollodorus and find for myself what I think.

Being a daughter of Cronos, she, like his other children, was swallowed by her father, but afterwards released (Apollod. l. c.), and, according to an Arcadian tradition, she was brought up by Temenus, the son of Pelasgus. (Paus. viii. 22. § 2; August. de Civ. Dei, vi. 10.) The Argives, on the other hand, related that she had been brought up by Euboea, Prosymna, and Acraea, the three daughters of the river Asterion (Paus. ii. 7. § 1, &c.; Plut. Sympos. iii. 9); and according to Olen, the Horae were her nurses. (Paus. ii. 13. § 3.) Several parts of Greece also claimed the honour of being her birthplace; among them are two, Argos and Samos, which were the principal seats of her worship. (Strab. p. 413; Paus. vii. 4. § 7; Apollon. Rhod. i. 187.)

Most common belief is Argos was her proper birthplace from what I've gathered and that the sisters or the Horae were the ones to nurse her.

I've noticed golden horses adorning her armor as well, I wonder why she appears as such in my visions.

Her marriage with Zeus also offered ample scope for poetical invention (Theocrit. xvii. 131, &c.), and several places in Greece claimed the honour of having been the scene of the marriage, such as Euboea (Steph. Byz. s. v. Karustos), Samos (Lactant. de Fals. Relig. i. 17), Cnossus in Crete (Diod. v. 72), and Mount Thornax, in the south of Argolis. (Schol. ad Theocrit. xv. 64; Paus. ii. 17. § 4, 36. § 2.) This marriage acts a prominent part in the worship of Hera under the name of hieros gamos; on that occasion all the gods honoured the bride with presents, and Ge presented to her a tree with golden apples, which was watched by the Hesperides in the garden of Hera, at the foot of the Hyperborean Atlas. (Apollod. ii. 5. § 11; Serv. ad Aen. iv. 484.)

Beutifull but no real notes here.

The Homeric poems know nothing of all this, and we only hear, that after the marriage with Zeus, she was treated by the Olympian gods with the same reverence as her husband. (Il. xv. 85, &c.; comp. i. 532, &c., iv. 60, &c.) Zeus himself, according to Homer, listened to her counsels, and communicated his secrets to her rather than to other gods (xvi. 458, i. 547). Hera also thinks herself justified in censuring Zeus when he consults others without her knowing it (i. 540, &c.); but she is, notwithstanding, far inferior to him in power; she must obey him unconditionally, and, like the other gods, she is chastised by him when she has offended him (iv. 56, viii. 427, 463). Hera therefore is not, like Zeus, the queen of gods and men, but simply the wife of the supreme god. The idea of her being the queen of heaven, with regal wealth and power, is of a much later date. (Hygin. Fab. 92; Ov. Fast. vi. 27, Heroid. xvi. 81; Eustath. ad Hom. p. 81.) There is only one point in which the Homeric poems represent Hera as possessed of similar power with Zeus, viz. she is able to confer the power of prophecy (xix. 407). But this idea is not further developed in later times. (Comp. Strab. p. 380; Apollon. Rhod. iii. 931.)

I refer to Queen Hera as such out of respect for her authority and power because I know Zeus treats her with respect and love. He is simply superior in power and ability, but he does not abuse that to degrade her or put her down, rather he lifts her up with him. Ive noticed that if you actually work with Lord Zeus he talks about her quite often, he loves her deeply and I know she loves him.

Wether or not she is truly of equal power, he still respects her council and she is still bold enough to face him and tell him if she sees something is even remotely off.

That is a boldness and a spirit I so admire and adore, the ability to stand up for ones self no matter who it is. She has my endless respect.

Her character, as described by Homer, is not of a very amiable kind, and its main features are jealousy, obstinacy, and a quarrelling disposition, which sometimes makes her own husband tremble (i. 522, 536, 561, v. 892.) Hence there arise frequent disputes between Hera and Zeus; and on one occasion Hera, in conjunction with Poseidon and Athena, contemplated putting Zeus into chains (viii. 408, i. 399). Zeus, in such cases, not only threatens, but beats her; and once he even hung her up in the clouds, her hands chained, and with two anvils suspended from her feet (viii. 400, &c., 477, xv. 17, &c.; Eustath. ad Hom. p. 1003). Hence she is frightened by his threats, and gives way when he is angry; and when she is unable to gain her ends in any other way, she has recourse to cunning and intrigues (xix. 97). Thus she borrowed from Aphrodite the girdle, the giver of charm and fascination, to excite the love of Zeus (xiv. 215, &c.). By Zeus she was the mother of Ares, Hebe, and Hephaestus (v. 896, Od. xi. 604, Il. i. 585; Hes. Theog. 921, &c.; Apollod. i. 3. § 1.) Respecting the different traditions about the descent of these three divinities see the separate articles.

And this is why we read and we don't take all of what one author(s) say(s) about a god as law.

Homer is a wonderfull author(s) in the sense that the storys are theatrical and intresting, however one must wonder how much of it was played up for the drama and how much was actual documentation of how the gods acted towards and with eachother.

Homer is also known for making the majority of his woman portrayals as women of jealousy trying to overtake men or get back at them, even siding with Hesiods interpertation of Pandora being the worst and first woman to ever be made. I doubt this entry is so simple. We don't even know the half of what went down to bring them to that point. What we do know is what we have now and what we have now is experiences and stories brought to us by those who practice and converse with Deity's regularly.

I am more likely to trust those who practice with said Deity's than an author making money centuries ago

Still, I won't entirely brush off Homer for this I just dispise homers view of Hera and specifically the women interpertations written by Homer. And I am here to learn, ultimately.

Properly speaking, Hera was the only really married goddess among the Olympians, for the marriage of Aphrodite with Ares can scarcely be taken into consideration; and hence she is the goddess of marriage and of the birth of children. Several epithets and surnames, such as Eileithuia, Gamêlia, Zugia, Teleia, &c., contain allusions to this character of the goddess, and the Eileithyiae are described as her daughters. (Hom. Il. xi. 271, xix. 118.) Her attire is described in the Iliad (xiv. 170, &c.); she rode in a chariot drawn by two horses, in the harnessing and unharnessing of which she was assisted by Hebe and the Horae (iv. 27, v. 720, &c., viii. 382, 433). Her favourite places on earth were Argos, Sparta, and Mycenae (iv. 51).

These are important notes to remember if you are a practicing Hellenic Pagan and want to know more About Hera and her likes or dislikes.

Favorite places were Argos, Sparta and Mycenae. I'll have to give those places a look some time and read up on them more.

Final

Respecting the real significance of Hera, the ancients themselves offer several interpretations: some regarded her as the personification of the atmosphere (Serv. ad Aen. i. 51), others as the queen of heaven or the goddess of the stars (Eurip. Helen. 1097), or as the goddess of the moon (Plut. Quaest. Rom. 74), and she is even confounded with Ceres, Diana, and Proserpina. (Serv. ad Virg. Georg. i. 5). According to modern views, Hera is the great goddess of nature, who was every where worshipped from the earliest times. The Romans identified their goddess Juno with the Greek Hera

I really must read the Apollodorus

We still possess several representations of Hera. The noblest image, and which was afterwards looked upon as the ideal of the goddess, was the statue by Polycletus. She was usually represented as a majestic woman at a mature age, with a beautiful forehead, large and widely opened eyes, and with a grave expression commanding reverence. Her hair was adorned with a crown or a diadem. A veil frequently hangs down the back of her head, to characterise her as the bride of Zeus, and, in fact, the diadem, veil, sceptre, and peacock are her ordinary attributes. A number of statues and heads of Hera still exist.

#hera deity #greek mythology #greek gods #p #helpol #notes #Hera

1 note · View note

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Interviews - Henry Cavill x wife/actress reader

Summary: You and Henry have been married for a couple years now, and when you’re both part of the Witcher cast, fun interviews are to be had.

Warning: nothing but a good time, btw I’ve never written anything like this so I hope it’s good enough that I might feel motivated to write more

-Readers Witcher character is loosely based off my Geralt fic from here (just a little self promotion), but in this case you play a full vampire in this Witcher universe

The days have been long and grueling, filming hours upon hours of stunts and regular acting had taken its toll. Not to mention the countless times in hair and make up paired with costume changes and traveling to film on certain locations.

To say being apart of Netflix’s The Witcher was full of tiring days and some accidental bruises would be a huge understatement. But none of that mattered, nor did you bother to complain when through the thick and thin of it all did you have Henry with you along the way. And your favorite big slobbery bear, Kal whenever he was allowed on set.

Fortunately for you in the beginning of all the craziness, the casting and writers had wanted you specifically for the part of Y/C/N in the new series before Henry even auditioned for the role of Geralt, that was soon given to him after you accepted your fresh role of vampiric heroine.

It was ironically strange in a good way, you had watched your dork of a husband play the Witcher: Wild Hunt a few times before, eventually learning of what Geralt of Rivia was, who Y/C/N was in the story, who Yennefer and Ciri were, Tris and even Jaskier.

Who would have thought that you’d finally get to snag a role side by side with Henry in quite literally one of the most fantastic shows you’ve ever heard of. You didn’t even need to see the show yet to know how well it was most likely to be reviewed. Being a key character in the grand storyline was enough to convince you of how amazing it would most certainly turn out in the finished product.

And after all was said and done, you couldn’t believe how well loved and popular the show truly became in the following months after shooting and its eventual release onto Netflix. The after parties and cast celebrations truly made you blessedly grateful for pulling through to the vary end.

Then again you had your mans Henry by your side every step of the way. He was your rock and you were most definitely his. You know life on set would have been far less entertaining and dreadfully long if not for the lovely company of your dear Witcher, Henry. And so far after the fact, you and a good portion of the cast have been placed in random interviews for the majority of the day.

Reason being, The Witcher has at long last finally premiered and as per usual the people and media live for those cast interviews that always reveal some interesting events. So far this morning you’ve done some interviews with Anya that have gone perfectly fine since the two of you seem to click so well.

Also it helps ease the anxiety of your fellow newer cast mates to the world of continuous interviews with an experienced veteran actor like yourself, who’s gone round the ring more times then you can count. Though you can’t help but wonder how Henry’s doing, considering you’ve been separated since the sessions began at 10am, you’ve had lunch and now it’s about 1 in the afternoon with more hours to go.

Luckily for you, you’ve just been informed of another interview with the man of the hour himself. Saying your goodbyes and well wishes to your fellow cast mates, you stand and follow the guide into the advised place. Aka some really nice hotel room that’s been done up real nice for efficient interviewing, complete with the Witcher insignia on a large background poster and three chairs that happen to look rather comfy.

The camera and sound people nod in acknowledgment as you walk in, you nod back no doubt making their day with your friendliness and adorable smile that quite literally lights up a room. Soon you spot the bubbly yet nervous interviewee who instantly welcomes you into her space like you’re an old friend.

You sit, a bit confused as to where your partner happens to be at the moment, the interviewer, Lauren makes small talk before a door opens and her big bright doe eyes go wide in nervous excitement. A telling smile upon her face as she shifts in her chair before looking back to you again with a happy grin.

Henry says a quick hello to the behind the scenes crew before waving to Lauren, you smirk while watching him get comfortable next to you, “Well, well, well. Get lost on your way up, you know they have guides for a reason.” You tease as he chuckles at your humorous jab, relieved to see you again after a couple hours apart.

“Traffic.” He quips with a shrug.

“Uh huh.” You mutter with a shake of your head before drawing your attention back to Laura, “Can’t take him anywhere I swear, he does this all the time.”

She laughs as Henry pretends to gasp at your teasing, you chuckle along with them before she finally collects herself, “Well, welcome back to London. It’s fantastic to have you both in town once again, and your big beautiful faces all over Leicester Square.”

You both laugh, “Right.” Says Henry, “I guess we do look pretty cool.”

“Hell yeah, I mean where else can I see myself with a giant sword on a building? And anyways look at this beautiful mug,” You say gently squeezing Henry’s cheeks in your hand, “he’s literally killing it out there.” They laugh as you give Hen another playful squeeze before letting go and setting your arm against the chairs cushioned armrest.

“Alight let’s start.” She says enthusiastically before glancing down at her cards then back up to you and Henry. Then into one of the two the cameras, “Hi I’m Lauren from Entertainment Weekly and today we’re here with the two stars of Netflix’s The Witcher.” She says enthusiastically while giving a nod to you two, indicating that the camera is now focused on you both, “Henry Cavill and Y/N Cavill.”

You both smile in acknowledgment as Henry gives a slight nod, “How you doing?”

“I’m great,” She beams, “So, I’ll get right into it, what do you like most about the story? What really drew you into the script that made you say, yes this is going to be awesome?”

Slapping a hand against Henry’s muscular leg, you hum, “I’ll let Hen take this one he’s a real expert on the linguistics of the whole show.”

“Thanks Y/N/N.” Replies Henry, bemused that you’re making him take the first question.

You nod to him knowingly with a smirk, “Of course.” Knowing how much he loves to talk about the show and also because you’d rather have him use his energy to talk about it then do that yourself. Priorities, right, though in your defense it’s been a long day.

“Well I absolutely love the games and the books themselves are phenomenal works of literature.” He explains, his face glowing with that usual glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “The story and the world of the Witcher is just so rich and full of potential that when I signed on for the show, I immediately knew it would be amazing, no doubt.”

You lean into the arm of you chair, “And of course I was there so that’s always a bonus.”

“That too.” He smiles adorably, “That too of course.”

Lauren smiles, “Great. So, what was it like working together, how was it having your characters interact with one another?”

You smile, setting a hand against Henry’s forearm, “This guy right here.” You deadpan before waving him off dramatically, “So annoying, my god he whined all the time and he was such a drama queen dear lord so ugh....” You start cackling before you can even finish the sentence causing Henry to loose it as well and with that the interviewer.

Shaking your head you rest your hand against his shoulder, “I joke, he was a gem to work with as usual...I mean I feel incredibly blessed to be able to act alongside my husband for months and months every single day. It’s a rarity in this line of work and I’m grateful to have shared this experience...and I guess more so this whole adventure with him as well.”

The interviewer aww’s as Henry tilts his head to lean into your hand that’s still resting atop his shoulder before pulling away just as quickly, the intimate sentiment not going unnoticed by you or Lauren who looks to be enjoying your loving yet calm energy with one another. “That’s so sweet, what about you Henry?”

“Oh yes absolutely,” Agrees Henry to your recent statement, “not only did I have her by my side through it all but the dynamic of our characters interacting together was so fun to shoot. I think the audience will really be able to see their relationship grow on screen into something strong and beautiful like in the books.”

Slow clapping you give him a curt nod of approval, “Well said.”

Lauren smirks, “Seems like it. Well, I was able to catch the premier yesterday and I gotta say...it was fantastic! I couldn’t believe how diffident the two of you looked from how you are now.” She gushes enthusiastically.

The corners of Henry’s lips curl into a proud smile for the fellow crew of the Witcher’s, “Oh that’s great then, honestly we gotta give all the props to the costume and makeup team, they’re so talented and know how to make us look like real badasses.” He adds.

You nod in agreement before grinning at a positive memory of your first interaction with Henry as Geralt, “Oh for sure, I remember during the early stages of production when our characters met each other for the first time, before this we came to set together but went separate ways to shoot our own stuff in the meantime so I never got a real look at him.” You recall with a bright smile as Henry watches your every move, beaming just the same.

“It was so funny, I was in the tent with Freya Allen, the wonderful girl who plays Ciri, and then suddenly her eyes got all big and nervous and I was like, that’s not me right? Something weird didn’t just happen with my costume? And then I turned around to find this man, wig on, face a mess, and his eyes looked so fearsome and different...it was a bit startling.” You say with a chuckle, “I clearly wasn’t expecting to see Geralt right then and there. He just looked so unlike Henry.”

“Yeah, I was almost hurt.” Laughs Henry, “She had to like squint and make sure it was me.”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug, “He had some real creepy looking colored contacts, yunno?”

Henry fake scoffs, “You’re one to talk, I mean when I first say her, Y/N’s eyes were red and she had fake blood spattered all over her face and shirt. Oh, and not to mention those fangs they put on your teeth...we probably traumatized poor Freya that day.”

“Oh shit you’re right!” You exclaim with a snort of concealed laughter, “God I completely forgot about how I looked...now since I think about it, I did that a lot too. I would just walk up to people and be completely oblivious as to what kind of nightmare I looked like, honestly I might have scared one of our producers a couple of times.” You add with a half nervous laugh, it’s true, you did scare some of the crew unintentionally. Most of the time.

Lauren lightly chuckles, “That sounds like you were quite the sight to see then.” She says before glancing back down at her notes, “Alright I have’ta ask, is there anything that you two took home with you from set?”

“Besides Henry every night,” He holds back a laugh while covering his mouth as you nonchalantly continue, “Uh, yes actually I got to take home Y/C/N’s wolf ring that I loved so much and just thought was the coolist thing ever and....uh, I might have stolen some socks too.”

“So that’s why after filming the amount of socks of yours I had to fold increased?” Wonders Henry with a surprised snort of realization.

Turning your head to give him a “no shit” kinda look, you look back at Lauren, pointing your thumb at Henry, “Master sleuth right here, but hey, he folds my laundry.”

“Aw that’s great.” Adds Lauren with a smile before turning her attention to Henry, “What about you Henry? Take anything from set?”

“More then Y/N did actually...”

“He just about took the whole makeup trailer most nights, I swear.”

Henry chuckles, “That. Is true.” He agrees with a nod, “Interesting enough, at home I’ve got Geralt’s armor hung up in our living room and a multitude of other nicknacks that I’ve collected during filming.” He adds, glancing over to you, “So uh, yeah, we were fairly lucky to be able to snag what we could.”

Lauren smiles, absentmindedly shuffling her cards, “That’s awesome to have such special memorabilia, you guys really are fortunate.” She adds before reading off from another card, “Alright you two, care to play a game called guess the image? Witcher style.”

Your face perks up at this, you’re a sucker for interview games and Henry knows it, “Are you reading my mind or something, I have been waiting all day for someone to ask about playing a game.” You gush rather enthusiastically.

He smiles at your adorableness and how excited you’ve just become, Lauren grins, happy that her suggestion has been so well received, “Okay so how it works is, I’ll show you an image on my iPad and then you have to guess who or what I’m showing you.”

“Oh, cool I’ve heard of this,” You reply, turning to Henry with a smirk, “Loser has to clean Kal’s yard poop for a week.”

Rolling his gorgeous blue eyes he chuckles, “You’re on.”

“Alright, the stakes are high, you two ready?” Beams Lauren, holding her iPad to her chest as she awaits an answer.

“Yes, I’m ready to kick his ass.” You quip, leaning an arm against your chair while Henry does about the same, though he does his best to contain his laughter.

“Okay, first image.” She holds up the device to show some sort of weird golden thing, it’s shiny and hard, worst part is that you’re not entirely sure what the hell it could be.

Sensing your confusion Henry nudges your shoulder, though you ignore it before he smartly answers, “Oh, is that...Renfri’s brooch?” Little shit knows exactly what that is, of course he does.

Lauren claps, “Correct.” Zooming out of the image to show the full picture of the golden brooch, “Right on, that’s one point for Mr. Cavill.”

You scoff playfully, “Beginners luck.” While Henry side eyes you with a humorous grin upon his plush lips, he nudges your arm, “I’m going to really enjoy not cleaning up Kal’s grass turds for awhile.” He mutters lightheartedly, though you know deep down he’s being serious, no way is he going to win this, you think. You won’t have it, hopefully the next few pictures aren’t as difficult, Kal duty is not fun by any means.

“Shut up.” You grumble with a dismissive wave of your hand, though just teasing of course.

“Okay next image.” This time the blurred photo looks much more familiar, soon it clicks as to what the obscured blurriness actually is, yes!

“Got it! Anya’s er I guess Yennefer’s dress from the fight at Sodden.” Lauren giggles, zooming the image out to reveal Yennefer in her tasseled blue and purple dress from the battle at Sodden Hill. “I’m amazing I know.” You boast at Henry with a casual little bow in your seat.

“It’s the second question.” He deadpans, eyes crinkling in amusement as you shake your head at him.

“Pffff get outta here.” You mutter back, gently pushing his arm off of your chairs armrest and setting yours in its place while he gives you a fake shocked expression.

In turn you can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips, so instead of saying some sassy remark that would no doubt get a reaction out of him, you turn your attention back over to Lauren who’s looking over her notes again.

“Fantastic,” She says, glancing back up at you and Henry, “you’re both tied with one point each. Alright, anyone know what this is?” She asks showing something red and fuzzy, a bit of dirty skin showing from one corner but with The Witcher this bloody image could literally be anything.

The both of you squint, puzzled as to what this could be, “Y/N you got any ideas.” Wonders Henry, brows furrowed as his face contorts into deep concentrated thought.

Raising a brow, you hum, “If I knew I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Fair point.” He chuckles.

Lauren smiles, “Any guesses?”

After a few concentrated moments, Henry shrugs in defeat, “I’m stumped.” He admits as you study the image harder, mind racing to put the pieces together as to what the hell you’re looking at.

“No, I think I might know this....erm is it...me?” You wonder, voice raising in question, hoping to be correct about this or face the teasing of Henry.

Lauren quickly zooms out of the obscured image, “It is!” She says excitedly, revealing the picture of you from your characters debut in episode 2 where you save a girl from a werewolf, your mouth is covered in blood and so is most of your costumes chest area and left arm from the struggle. Not to mention the make-up teams fun 20 minutes of throwing fake sticky blood all over you to get the right look for the taxing scene.

You grimace a bit, “Oh god that was quite the day on set,” You recall with a half smile, “I was doing stunts all day covered in that red syrupy dye, I think it took a week to get out of my skin.”

Henry suddenly snorts with laughter, “Right! That reminds me, I thought Kal had gotten cut or something, it was just Y/N who had hugged him not realizing she still had some fake blood on her arm.”

“Jeez that’s right, I felt so bad, but I couldn’t stop laughing once we realized it was just me.”

Lauren grins, excited to hear some hidden information about little things that happens behind the scenes, “Oh wow that must have been a sight, alright Henry, Y/N’s taken the lead with a two to one score.” She says as you playfully nudge his strong shoulder. “Second to last image, what is this?”

Without missing a single beat Henry replies, “Jaskier.”

Squinting at the image you lean closer to the iPad, “How the hell do you see Jaskier?”

Smiling the interviewer zooms out to reveal the bards full outfit from the banquet scene, though he’s in the background of a fight between Geralt and some Cintran knights. “Right on!” She exclaims as you lean back into your seat dumbfounded, shoulder flush against Henry’s as he clutches your arm and squeezes it affectionately.

Ignoring his silent show of victory you shrug, “And they say he’s just another pretty face,” Earning a laugh from Lauren and some of the crew as you smirk at the camera, face them shifting to apologetic, “also I’m so sorry Joey you beautiful bastard apparently I’m blind. Uh, we don’t have to dwell on it, Lauren whatcha got?”

“You guys are both tied with two points each, last chance to win.” She replies before glancing down at her iPad, “Alright, what is this?” She asks, her iPad showing that of fuzzy bright colors, with a small corner smear of dull white that clearly wouldn’t make much sense to the untrained eye.

Smirking you glance at a puzzled Henry before sitting up in your seat, feeling rather good about yourself, “Would that happen to be, Hen in Stregobor’s illusion?” You answer with, though sounding a bit as a question considering you aren’t entirely confident as to what image this is.

Lauren’s brows raise in surprise, “Henry, looks like we have a winner. Y/N you are correct.” She beams, enlarging the image to reveal Geralt’s side profile as he talks to the old wizard while the background stays colorful and shrouded in various arrays of sunlight..

Shaking your fist victoriously in the air you give a couple enthusiastic whoop whoops while Henry simply takes it like a champ, “Have fun cleaning up Karl’s monster turds, cause this lucky lady doesn’t have to.” You boast as Henry and the crew laugh.

“Well that was something,” Beams Lauren, “I’m so glad to have chatted for a bit about your guys’ amazing new series, and maybe ended a relationship in the process.” She says jokingly as both you and Henry chuckle.

Patting his thigh affectionately, you smirk, “He’s a tough old bear, but yeah, it was awesome having you talk to us.”

“Yes, take care now.” Adds Henry while the interviewer Lauren stands, saying her goodbyes as she goes to exit the room.

The camera crew take a small break to adjust things and whatnot as you and Henry wait patiently for the next interviewer. He turns, an adorable smile pulling at his lips while you pretend to ignore his fiery gaze. “Well that went pretty well, minus the fact that I’m on Kal poop duty for a week...but uh...” He leans in close to you now, “I missed you all morning.”

Breaking out into a smile you raise a brow, “Boring without me huh?”

“Always.”

You casually shrug, “I figured as much. Don’t worry, we have a hotel all to ourselves tonight.” Your brows wiggle suggestively causing your blue eyed lover to shake his head with amusement.

“Say it louder next time.” He jokes.

Side eyeing the oblivious crew you begin to speak a couple octaves louder, “Henry I can’t wait to fu..” Suddenly his hand presses against your mouth before you’re able to call any attention to yourself. He gives you a warning look before slowly pulling his hand from your mouth.

You grin mischievously, “I wasn’t gonna say that...”

“Sure Y/N,” He mutters in your ear as a new interviewer walks into the room and finds their chair, “and I’m wasn’t going to make you scream tonight.”

Your brows raise in surprise and admittedly slight arousal at his choice of wording in this room of all places. Eyeing him up, face still showing surprise, you finally break out into a satisfied smirk. “You know what? I think you should consider changing your offer.”

He thinks deeply for a moment, though you know he’s only pretending to get you riled up, “Hrmm...maybe, possibly, should I? Should we? You are my co-star after all, that wouldn’t be very professional now would it Y/N?” He states with a shit eating grin, all done while the crew and interviewer get ready, minding their business and completely unaware to yourself and Henry’s teasing.

Scoffing playfully you lightly swat his arm, “We are way past being professional.”

He chuckles, looking from you to the rest of the room, “Oh, they have no idea.”

#the witcher x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill

566 notes · View notes

spade-riddles · 3 years

Text

Submission: Adjusting expectations

Okay, guys. Wading in here where it’s possible no-one wants me, but … here goes.

We - Kaylors - are in a hard place right now. People feel hurt, they feel hopeless. They feel like they were led on by the likes of Spade. I’m not here to invalidate any of the feelings that come from seeing Karlie and Taylor play out this charade.

But I think we (collectively, as a fandom) need to take a breath and ask if any of this is really as bad or unfixable as we think it is. Because, for me, the recent stunting is hard to stomach but not truly surprising. On some level this is how I expected Karlie and Taylor to handle both the birth of the baby and the launch of the rerecorded albums. As much I wanted to believe in the idea of spring breaking loose and bringing with it a fervent revolution … I could see the pieces still in play on the board and I doubted it was coming.

I think the problem is that there was a split between the optimist and pragmatist sides of the fandom, over the last year or so. To be clear - I’m not judging the optimist side of the fandom. Not at all. Taylor has pulled wildcard moves before, and emotions run so high in all this, especially with a baby involved now, that I don’t blame people for wanting to believe the best. But it reached a stage where some of the things people were trying to talk themselves into were just wildly unrealistic. And when that happens, of course you’re going to get hurt. It’s inevitable.

But let’s really look at this for a second. We should have known that neither Karlie nor Taylor was going to be shaving her beard in March. Ditching Jerk right after or just before the birth would have been too soon for Karlie. It’s not unusual for a celeb marriage to fizzle out within a year of the birth, but before the baby even arrives? That would be weird, and would draw attention just when it seems Kaylor don’t want it. They just had a baby. That’s an adjustment in itself, and Karlie is suffering enough social media hate on top of that. I wouldn’t blame her for just wanting to take a break and lie low during this difficult time. And unfortunately, for Karlie, that means maintaining the status quo of the situation she put herself in with Jerk. She may be doing the bare minimum to maintain it, but if she wants to avoid attention, she has to make it seem like everything between her and her “husband” is normal. And that she’s trying to make it work, which I believe will be important later. Good people try to make it work, even in bad relationships.

Toe wasn’t going anywhere either. Taylor had relied on him so heavily during the promotion of Folklore, with the William Bowery narrative, that she was almost backed into a corner. She had to give some allusion to his air quotes “creative input” and their so-called happy relationship, or her failure to do so would have become the story and overshadowed her night. The headlines would have either been break-up speculation or complaints that she didn’t give him his due. We think the cutesy coverage after she named him in her acceptance speech was bad, but negative headlines have a far longer shelf life and can take on a life of their own. They would have been worse. Whatever we might think of Taylor’s actions, Folklore is one of her best albums and she deserved to have her night.

So, on to the announcement of the birth. This is a tricky one, and again, I completely understand why people reacted so badly against it. It was everything we as a fandom said we didn’t want. It was Jerk using the baby for personal good PR. But I have to be honest here. I always thought we were kidding ourselves believing he would NEVER be seen with the baby or implied to be the father. I do believe Karlie is doing her damnedest to minimize the digital footprint of his involvement and keep her actual baby out of it. But he was always going to get to bask in the glow of playing daddy for a while. It’s the trade off Kaylor made when they used him to shore up their closet.

This is also why I increasingly suspect the timing of the announcement got the green light from Kaylor too. If Jerk was always going to be assumed to be the father of Karlie’s baby, then there was always going to have to be a birth announcement that incorporated him somehow - unless the girls were ready to answer awkward questions, and it doesn’t seem like we’re there yet. So the best way to minimize the damage is to have his moment of glory overshadowed by a bigger win for Taylor. It worked pretty well actually. Even on Kaylor blogs the stunt was mostly buried by Taylor content.

I know a lot of fans feel gaslit by all the hints, but I do think there’s a possibility Taylor really didn’t grasp how hurt Kaylors would be. From her perspective, she “fed” fans three times over that night. She gave us a beautiful performance, a gorgeous red carpet moment, and a win to celebrate. I think it’s possible she really didn’t realize the double whammy of stunting that night would make it all feel worthless for many.

Taylor is in an awkward position. As a consequence of Kaylor retreating into the closet, the support base for them has shrunk. (When I use the words “Kaylor fandom”, I refer to this support base.) I would say Kaylor fandom consists of two parts. There is a silent portion, who observe events and comment anonymously, but don’t say anything “on main”. And then there are the small corps of true believers, who think Karlie and Taylor are still together and the baby is theirs. This latter group do most of the actual talking about Kaylor, but they tend to be pretty battle-hardened. They’ve been around for years, they never believe any of the stunts and their capacity to be hurt by them is, as a result, pretty limited. These Kaylors criticize sometimes, but they tend to fall back in line eventually and mostly adopt a “let’s wait and see how this all shakes out” approach. The problem is that I would say these “chilled” Kaylors are the minority. For their own sanity they curate their blog experience and often don’t post the more negative anons they get. Which is fine, but if you were looking at it from the outside, I could see how it might create an impression that the fandom as a whole can roll with the punches. And for a lot of the silent majority, that’s not the case.

But again, I can see how Taylor might not necessarily know that. She went quiet after the Grammys, when I might have expected more celebratory posts from her. If I had to guess, I’d say she didn’t expect the backlash. I’m especially noticing a backlash against her for allowing Karlie to take so many hits while her own reputation has never been better. And I can’t defend her on that one, except to say I hope she has a plan. But I understand where people are coming from when they say the songs aren’t enough and actions speak louder than words. It’s tough to watch.

Still, we’re in a position we should realistically have been able to see coming. We should have known Jerk wasn’t going to be out of the picture immediately after the birth. This is one of those things nobody likes, but maybe we all just have to be patient on. I don’t see Karlie busting out of the closet to admit her marriage was a fake, or testifying to the FBI. I think she’ll just let her marriage quietly fall apart, as many real marriages did during the pandemic. And for that to work, she needs to make it look like didn’t throw away a family unit lightly. Hence the “I tried” post, the social media break, and the suggestions of spending time with Jerk’s family. All of this can be spun later into a narrative of Karlie having tried to make it work, only to never really be accepted. The hate online affected her mental health and she gradually realized how unhappy she’d become and decided she needed to break free and find her old self again for her baby’s sake. This is the most likely narrative for Karlie’s freedom and it’s one that could work - but it’s going to take time to unfold. Personally, I’m giving it a year. If we don’t see a separation by then, and definitive moves to a reunited Kaylor, I’ll be bowing out. I’ll still know what I believe the truth to be, but I won’t see the need to devote my energy to defending it. ,

Meanwhile, the masters rerecords are about to be released, and Taylor has invested a lot in their success. Because of this, I can’t envision her coming out until at least the big three (Fearless, 1989, and Red) have dropped. She might drop hints, but I don’t expect anything earth-shattering. Even the order of the album releases seems to confirm this. She’s breaking out the big guns first.

I’ve seen people speculate that because Rep can’t be rerecorded until 2022, Taylor will hold off on any coming out until then. And I’m not so sure of that. Yes, people listening to the album for clues would give Scott and Scooter money, but if we’re being honest, a fair amount of people are probably listening to those albums already, regardless of the drama. Those sleazeballs are profiting from Rep, full stop. But if Taylor profits more, from her bigger albums, she still wins. And she can still put out a Taylor’s version of Rep with vault tracks and collabs, to seduce people away from the Big Machine version in early 2022. Honestly, I think there’s a good chance Taylor would consider this is a worthwhile trade-off anyway, if it meant she got to live a more open life with Karlie - and most crucially, begin to repair Karlie’s reputation. As children get older and the world begins to leave the pandemic behind, it becomes harder to live behind closed doors. I guess we’ll find out how Taylor finds the reality of such a life, and what she considers worth sacrificing to step away from it.

All this to say: I can’t predict the future more than anyone else, but I don’t think the situation we’re in now is irreparable, and if we’re being really objective, I don’t think it’s even surprising. I do think Taylor should give us something, if she wants to keep us around. No-one can live on a complete absence of hope, and as I’ve stated, letting the fandom dwindle to this extent has its own dangers. But I think we also need to keep our time frames realistic, even if it means rejecting lifelines like the Spade riddles. We shouldn’t expect Karlie to be free of Jerk for around a year, and we shouldn’t expect Taylor to do anything much beyond general music promo until at least the big three have dropped. Sucks to say it, I know. But at least this way we won’t be disappointed, and if Kaylor do pull a wild card and move towards freedom, we can be pleasantly surprised.

Just my two cents.

___________________

Well written and fair arguments on our reactions and expectations. I had typed up more, but I will let others post their comments before I chime in.

134 notes · View notes

imaginethebeautifulworld · 2 years

Note

Hello! ¡Hola! Ciao! Salut ! So question: what would you do if you ever met Gilbert, Lovi and Arthur in real life? And possibly where would be the location of your meeting? 🙃

Dear Ancients are you trying to kill me? @_@

Salutations, Lovely~ I'll try to be as... realistic as I can here, I guess.

First off, I at least know from experience that I would keep my panic at bay until I was finally alone again, when I would have a full on meltdown. I don't-

How do you cope with meeting someone you've been lowkey daydreaming about for the past ten years? Silently vow to yourself to keep calm and carry the fuck on, and make sure you never let them find out that you've been writing fanfiction about them for near a decade.

As for how I would meet them?

Well, that's honestly a really hard one to answer, luv. ^_^; Despite my severe social anxiety, I casually befriend people all the time, in some of the most unpredictable ways.

I based each of these loosely off of how I actually met some of my friends, as realistically I can't even begin to narrow down just how I meet/befriend people.

Arthur I know would be the most likely candidate for actually, unintentionally running into. My ultimate goal for years has been to move back to London on a permanent basis, hopefully earn my Masters equivalent in History or Journalism. Now, I gotta be honest, I was rarely ever in my dorm except to sleep; there was a whole city to see!

I got roped into a giant game of Manhunt in Southwark with a bunch of (at that time) strangers, I wandered the damp silt along the Thames when the tide was low, bonding with some Crawlers over the cool ass artifacts we found, and there was Brazilian student I became Whats App buddies with during a weekend bus trip to Belgium, bonding over our books, the fact we were the only singles in a tour group filled with couples, and everything we thought the other should explore back in London.

I can honestly say that Arthur is... Welp, I just think out of the three of them, however we meet would be the most random happenstance. Maybe he's the punk I bonded with while in the queue outside Garfunkle's, singing along to the vintage tunes and gradually loosening up into overly dramatic faces and silly dances.

Gilbert would... As much as I love him, I feel like in real life he would probably intimidate me at first.

He reminds me of these guys I met in Montmartre that started walking with me, rambling at me in French, then English, trying their damndest to convince me to let them buy me a coffee. I thought I was in the clear when I used Italian to say I didn't understand what they were saying, and my fucking luck that one of them was fluent in Italian, too. Or maybe he's like the guy who was at the Venice airport waiting for the same flight, bored out of his mind and playing wallball with a small bouncy ball he had in his pocket, who I ended up asking to join when my roommate fell asleep on her then-boyfriend, now-husband. Or he'd be like the kid who accidentally got locked into Regent's Park after hours, and I helped him climb over the fence to get back out. Or maybe he's the guy I made laugh in an Amsterdam grocery store because of my mini meltdown over finally finding Cool American Doritos at 10 pm, who then helped me figure out exactly which pre-sliced deli meat was turkey-esque.

The thing with Gil is that he's such an extrovert that I could see him being the one more likely initiating any possible friendships.

And then there's Lovino.

If he were true to canon, he's more than likely the one approaching me. Maybe he's the guy who rescued me in Rome from the tourist trap gladiator actors, who will gladly take pictures with you, but don't tell you till after that you're suppose to pay them for each photo. Or maybe he's the guy from the flight to Roma, who was on the phone before takeoff cursing lowly in Italian about politics, and for my dumbass and smart mouth to immediately start commiserating with him, the next hour and a half spent venting to each other about our nations' mutually terrible politicians, and the woes of living in the hellishly expensive London. Or, or! Lovi could be the man I saw in the Barcelona airport at 4 am eating breakfast, who was just so beautiful that all of my party kept checking him out. My philosophy has always kind of been to regret the things that you do rather than didn't do, so as we all got ready to head for our gate, I politely approached him to tell him that he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. And his smile-

To this day, whoever that man was, he is still the most beautiful person I had ever seen. But when I said that, and he smiled at the compliment, only to return it with this earnestness that still makes my heart flutter even as I write this well over five years later-

Anyway.

I'm sorry this got so long, but really I'm not quite sure how else I could go about this. ^_^;

I make friends in all kinds of situations, something that's both a curse and a blessing. I couldn't possibly guess the circumstances, couldn't even begin to imagine how or when it'll happen.

Just keep an open mind, an open heart, and find confidence in who you are, and the rest pretty much follows~

Thanks for the ask, Lovely!

#aph england #aph prussia #aph romano #i don't even try to make friends sometimes it just happens ^_^#i have such severe social anxiety and yet somehow-#anon asks #personal asks #ace speaks #hello lovelies!#this ended up being a mini montage of some of the guys who attempted/partially succeeded to steal my heart in Europe #I'm still friends with a lot of them to date!#the location is impossible to predict as are the circumstances #all i know is that i probably wouldn't know any of their names till long into the budding bromance and by then #yep ace would have a meltdown ^_^;;;;#in retrospect i may be more an extrovert than previously thought #yeah i fell in love with a stranger at an airport #and had two aghast Americans and one awestruck irishman asking me how the hell i was able to talk to him #it was literally like 'hi excuse me i just wanted to tell you that you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen and i hope you have an #amazing day' only for him to just light up like the literal sun with this perfect smile and a warmth that filled me to my toes #yeah #i still think about him sometimes. i hope he's doing okay.

15 notes · View notes

seriouslyhooked · 3 years

Text

The Best Bad Idea

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories.

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! Here is a little something I made instead of being a responsible writer and finishing my other projects. I’ll be back to my other WIPs soon (God willing), but in the meantime here’s my 1000th attempt at writing a Captain Swan meet cute. I needed to get some words on the page, and this is the result. Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, Thump. Steady, sure, and even. A solid pulsing sound with no inconsistencies and no delays or false starts.

In this particular patient, that fourth set of beats was the most important. Prior to his recent operation, Earl MacDonald’s heart had been weak and skipping needed pulses, then constricting far too harshly on every fourth measure. That type of arrhythmia had potentially disastrous consequences, but those worrying beats were seemingly behind them. The rhythm Emma heard through the stethoscope was a regularly circulating drumline, the tell-tale song of a heart that was working, and working well. Her surgical intervention had been successful.

She gently released the breath she was holding, a sign of the stress that she carried while waiting for patients to recuperate. Emma never let the patients see her sweat, but she had been worried on multiple levels in this case. Earl was going on 80, and not a logical contender for intensive cardiac mediation, but Emma’s gut had told her he could handle it, and she was rarely ever wrong. Earl forged through the surgery like a much younger man, and his outputs post-operation had all been extremely encouraging. It was shaping up to be another win, another life saved thanks to the power of medicine, and that filled Emma with real joy. She always did her absolute best to create good outcomes, and this time there was so much more on the line than one life. This was a man who was loved and cherished by the people closest to him, and who would be sorely missed if something were to happen.

“Anything you want me to note for the chart, Doctor Swan?”

Emma bit back a witty retort at the pointed use of the word ‘Doctor.’ She was one of the few surgeons in this hospital who didn’t care what people called her, as long as they called on her early enough to actually save the patient’s life. But with Belle, a person Emma considered a dear and true friend, there was an added lilt of sass when using her title. Her friend was one of the nurse practitioners that Emma had been working with for years, since the day she landed here as a medical intern, but despite their differences in degrees, Belle was easily the most well-read and brilliant resource when it came to medical literature in this hospital.

“Just that Mr. MacDonald is healing nicely.”

“Did you hear that Lorraine?” Earl asked, with a Cheshire cat smile on his face, and the glint of true pride in his eyes. “Doctor Emma says I’m healing nicely.”

“Hard not to hear, seeing as I’m right beside you,” Loraine quipped, but she squeezed his hand affectionately, and offered a warm smile to her husband all the same.

“You know, usually being dubbed ‘nice’ is the kiss of death for a man.”

“Earl!” Loraine chastised, clearly not liking his word choice. Earl smiled wider, looking almost boyish in his delight.

“Well, so to speak. But I was going to say that I think we can make an exception this time. I’ve never been so happy to be referred to as ‘nice’ in my life.”

“Technically Doctor Swan was referring to your vital signs, Earl,” Belle taunted from across the room, holding back a smile Emma knew she was bound to let loose soon enough.

“Aw come on, you both know I am your favorite patient. I mean I’m not exactly pressed for competition. Have you seen the people on this floor? Good grief.”

“Ignore him, ladies. He’s all talk. He hasn’t left this room since we got here,” Loraine said, rolling her eyes, as if these antics were a constant occurrence. Based on her small window of experience with Earl, Emma would believe it. “Every meal, every visit, every moment has been within these four walls. Even his PT has been in here.”

“His PT has been here?” Emma asked, surprised that Mary Margaret, their head Occupational Therapist, had allowed for that. She was normally a by-the-book professional, and Emma never knew her friend to provide rehab consults outside of her studio.

“Yup. I told Miss Mary Margaret that I had a wife to keep an eye on and she relented.”

“No, actually what you said was, ‘Excuse me, Ms. Blanchard? You probably heard I just had heart surgery. Well, the thing is, my heart is sitting in this room. I’d like to be with her. Doesn’t seem right to be separated so soon, given what we’ve been through.’ Then you pointed at me, and used your puppy dog eyes on her. Next thing I knew, she had lugged enough equipment to fill the room here. No questions, just action.”

“I bet she ate that right up,” Belle said with a wink. “Mary Margaret loves nothing more than love itself.”

Belle and Mrs. MacDonald discussed Mary Margaret’s love of love, and Earl’s improved mobility, for a few more minutes while Emma continued checking his stats, but ultimately Earl’s patience was wearing thin. He really only had one thing on his mind, and he was now determined to ask about it. Emma was honestly shocked that he managed to wait this long. She knew it was only a matter of time and she was ready for the showdown.

“So, what do you think, Doc? Am I making it home in time for the party?”

“The one for your grandson on Sunday?” she asked, noting the three-day window between now and then. She had heard about this party non-stop, since the moment Earl woke up from the procedure. It was a central fixation for the old man, a celebration that would host his entire family, and a goal he had been carrying for over a week. Earl nodded and Emma hesitated for a few seconds, before smiling and giving the good news away. “Yes, I am confident that Jayden’s ‘Pop Pops’ will be in attendance when he turns four. But you know the rules…”

“I know, I know: no good food, no strenuous exercise, no having fun.”

“Earl.” Just the utterance of the old man’s name from his wife was enough to have him looking like a kid with his hand caught in the candy jar. Emma and Belle both chuckled at that child-like expression. It was hard not to; the old married couple was just too sweet.

“I’m sorry. I know this is serious, but what is life if you can’t have a little fun?”

“Fun comes in all shapes and sizes, Mr. MacDonald, and despite what you may think about your prescribed lifestyle changes, you’re forgetting two things. First, most of these less-alluring prescriptions will be temporary, and second, you’re a man who clearly loves a challenge.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you know that, Doc?”

“Well for one thing, you somehow landed a lady as remarkable as Loraine. There’s no way she came easy with these corny jokes of yours. You must have worked harder than you ever worked in your life to persuade her to give you a chance.”

The laughter from the older couple was boisterous and heartwarming, and Emma knew she was right on the money. At this point, she had the ability to sniff out true affection, and these two had it in spades. Many couples she saw facing emergency room disasters together didn’t have the same good luck.

“You got that right, Doc. You know the first time we met was at the -,”

Earl’s story was unceremoniously interrupted by the crackling of the PA system specific to this room. It buzzed for a few moments before a message was delivered in a saccharine sweet voice that sounded nothing like the announcer’s normal tone.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station, code 741.”

Emma waited for the feed to cut off and began to tell Earl to please go on with the story, but the call came out again.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, code 741.”

“You know she’s just going to keep doing that until she gets her way,” Belle murmured. Emma nodded. It was no use. What Ruby Lucas wanted, Ruby Lucas got. That just seemed to be the way of the world.

“Belle, would you mind telling Ruby I’m with a patient at the moment? I will be there when I can. She can always proceed without me.”

Belle snorted out a laugh, knowing that last part would never happen, but gave a swift affirmation that she would relay the message before waving goodbye to the MacDonald’s and promising to see them soon. As her friend headed out, Emma sighed, knowing there was no way Ruby was going to give things up that easily. She had a matter of moments before some new tactic would be deployed.

“I’m sorry about that. You were saying?”

“Eh it’s kind of a long story, and you’ve got places to be, Doc. Just know, true love won out in the end with me and my Loraine. It always does.”

Emma couldn’t deny that their love appeared true even after their fifty plus years together. She personally had never experienced a love like that, but she was wondering more and more if maybe it was out there, somewhere in the later chapters of her story. For years she thought herself above that kind of need. She found validation in herself and in her work. She dedicated herself to helping others, and that had always been enough. But the loneliness that became a constant when she was growing up in foster care still lingered, and she wondered if someone might ever come along who could inspire her to take a chance and risk her heart.

“You know, I actually worked as a nurse before my kids were born,” Loraine commented easily. Emma nodded and smiled as she checked the last of Mr. MacDonald’s IV drips. Emma was aware of the older woman’s solid medical understanding. Loraine had continued to demonstrate it the entire time her husband was admitted in this ward. “I’m trying to remember if I ever ran into a code 741.”

“Oh, uh, I think – well, erm, I mean you probably didn’t,” Emma said, hoping she didn’t turn beet red at the passing comment from the older woman. She was already stuttering, which was completely out of character and eighty shades of embarrassing. Loraine’s words feigned ignorance, but her eyes told a different story. Still Emma tried to play it off. “It’s really not a big deal. Just a non-emergent protocol.”

Another alert sounded, but this time it came through the ceiling unit reserved for announcements to the wider reaches of the hospital. “Attention to all surgical ward personnel. We are paging Doctor Swan to the nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, you are needed at the nurse’s station immediately for a code 741.” The talking stopped, but the air crackled signaling that the line was still live. “Immediately.”

“Sounds pretty urgent to me,” Loraine replied. The curiosity in her gaze told Emma that the older woman was onto them, but it was Earl’s comment that cut too close for comfort.

“When I was in the war, all of our numeric codes corresponded to letters. So 7 was H, 4 was D, 1 was A. H – D – A. HDA, now what could that be….?” Uh oh. Now Emma really had to get out of here before she accidentally admitted Ruby’s code’s meaning – Hot Doctor Alert. That would be the cherry on top of a full-blown mortification sundae.

“All righty, well like I told Belle, all your scans look good. Doctor Whale is on shift this evening during the next series of rounds, so I’ll make sure your file is ready for him.”

“Of course, dear, and good luck with your doctor, er – I mean – code.”

Emma stammered out something like an ‘okay thanks,’ while leaving. She tried to get her bearings once she was out of sight of the room, but she had nowhere to go. Everyone on this floor had just heard her page, and there were bound to be at least a few who understood the meaning. She was so embarrassed, and more than a little ticked at Ruby. She was supposed to be her best friend, but she was always pulling these crazy stunts. They were mostly harmless, but for Emma, who hated being the subject of hospital gossip, it was anxiety inducing to say the least.

“Please tell me that you did not just broadcast that to the entire hospital,” Emma said, arriving at the nurse’s station with a sense of urgency, and watching some of the other nurses scurry off to avoid the confrontation. Ruby, however, was unfazed. Actually, the nurse manager just rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag and phone from her cubby, as if Emma was the one who was annoying and not the other way around.

“And here I was thinking we were the best of friends. Soul sisters, kindred spirits, friends for life. But no, ye of little faith, you actually believe I would broadcast the hot doc alert to all of Mist Haven? What kind of friend would do that?”

“But if you didn’t… then how did you…?” Emma’s questions trailed off, but her arms flailed towards the ceiling and the look on her face spoke for itself – how had Ruby used the hospital wide PA system without actually broadcasting to the entire hospital?

“You know Tink up in nuero?” Emma nodded, well acquainted with the nurse manager who had Ruby’s job on the fifth floor but with a specialization of the brain and nervous system. She was a tiny woman, but she ruled that ward with more than capable hands. “She and I bribed the IT guys to make the nurse managers an override. Now we can circumvent the PA software whenever we want. Bring some of you more stubborn Doctors to heal when it comes to answering our pages.”

“That’s… well, actually that’s genius,” Emma admitted.

“I like to think so,” Ruby teased, offering a genuine smile. The two friends laughed at all of this, and Emma felt so much better knowing that their secret was still relatively secure. The last thing she wanted was everyone knowing how she was spending her lunch breaks these days.

“Gus, you’re holding down the fort while I’m gone, right?” Ruby asked, her smile turning slightly wicked with the purposeful jest aimed at the new nursing aid sitting behind the desk.

“Me?” The new hire replied, suddenly white as a sheet. Emma had never seen the man so stricken, and as a new nurse he had plenty of high-stress moments to look alarmed during. “I – uh – well – I -,”

“It’s called comedic relief, Gus. Commonly referred to as joking. Do me a favor, learn about it by the end of shift, kay?” Ruby pivoted to the person she actually trusted to man the fort. “Thirty minutes work for you, Belle?”

“I’ve got it handled.”

“Excellent. We’ll return with a full report,” Ruby said, grabbing Emma’s arm and moving them down the hallway before Emma could even say goodbye. “Newbies – can’t live with them, can’t pawn off scut work without them.”

“You are terrible. And yet… the look on his face just now…? Priceless,” Emma acquiesced. “But seriously, Ruby, can we PLEASE find another way to page me for this? My patients are not stupid, and the code isn’t exactly original. It’s kind of…” Ruby’s grin was so big that it stopped Emma in her tracks. She was currently trying to hold her friend to account, but Ruby looked like she’d won the lottery. “What?”

“You are so totally into him! I mean listen to you right now.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Emma said, feeling her cheeks flush against her will.

“Exactly,” Ruby said. “You’re telling me to be more discreet when I send the bat signal, but you still want me to send it. Do you realize how unlike you that is?”

“Despite what you may think, Ruby. I’m a doctor, I’m not dead. I can appreciate a hot guy now and again.”

“Doubtful. Remember last month when all those pro hockey players were here after Ocheski collapsed on the ice? You had a room full of crazy sexy men. Like virile, hot, muscled men who get paid big money to beat each other up on the ice. Most women would die for that chance, and to make it even better, most of them were hitting on you. And what did you do? Nothing. You didn’t even blink.”

“They were not hitting on me,” Emma affirmed, but the words were hollow. They had been trying to flirt with her. A few had even attempted to get her number.

“They were hitting on you,” Ruby said adamantly.

“He was a patient, and the rest of them were essentially his family. You know I’d never cross that line. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine, then what about Dr. King? When he came for that conjoined twins case last year, you had no interest. Zero. Zilch.”

“King was an asshole, you know that,” Emma said, belatedly catching her use of profanity and checking that no patients were around. Luckily the coast was clear.

“So? You didn’t have to marry the guy. Hot is hot, honey. That’s just how things are.”

Emma barked out a laugh at even the thought of marrying someone like that. Arthur King was just about the worst person she could fathom to spend a life with. He was narcissistic and carrying around one of the biggest god-complexes she’d ever seen, and she was a surgeon, so she was an expert on god-complexes.

“Your face really says it all, Emma. I mean honestly, poker would be a terrible game for you to take up. Your contempt for King is obvious, but, meanwhile, as soon as I mention Doctor Jones… aha! See, totally shifted.”

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. She could try and protest, but her friend knew her too well for that. The best thing to do was say nothing, and she was saved by their arrival at their destination. The coffee cart in the center of the action, near the entrance of Mist Haven. Here was where the wards crossed paths. Her surgical wing met up with the specialties departments, the ER, the community clinic, and more. It was also swarmed with both hospital workers and visitors. Typically, this was the last place she wanted to be, but recently it had become a highlight of her day.

“Emma? Ruby? What’s brought you out here?” a voice asked. It was Mary Margaret, and given her street clothes and jacket, Emma would guess she was just starting her shift.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s fresh meat from the ER. Two showings a day, but we favor the afternoon delight.”

“Oh right,” Mary Margaret said, nodding, like Ruby’s words were totally normal, and for Ruby they were. “I heard about the new ER Chief. Doctor Nolan? I meant to get down there and bring him something to welcome him, but I’ve been so swamped this week. My caseload is crazy at the moment. I hope he won’t think too badly of me for being a bit late.”

“Mary Margaret, literally no one in a hospital brings people cupcakes as a welcome gift, especially not new guys in other departments.” Ruby was not wrong. Hospitals were hardly the most happy-go-lucky of places. At least not usually. “Believe me, the man will be grateful whenever they come. If he even eats them. He’s fit – like fit, fit. Keto diet and a personal trainer fit. The kind of fit that makes you -,”

“Careful, Ruby,” Emma teased. “What if Graham heard you saying that?”

“God, I wish. You know how worked up he gets, and how he works out his frustrations.” Ruby’s tone was dripping in suggestion. “It’s one of the many reasons I live to drive him crazy.”

Emma and Mary Margaret laughed at Ruby’s apt assessment of her relationship with her boyfriend. Ruby had been dating the fireman for almost a year now, since he came in on one of the ambulance bays with a victim he’d rescued from a fire, but Ruby was hardly the predictable type, and Graham seemed to love that about her. They were still going strong despite her willful, wild child nature, and Emma suspected they may be built to last.

“Doctor Nolan must really be something to get you out here, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, moving forward in the line, inching ever closer to the mediocre coffee the cart promised.

“Ha! Hardly. Emma’s not here for Nolan. She’s here for Jones.”

“Jones?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Girl, where have you been? Doctor Killian Jones, trauma surgeon extraordinaire. Chief Mills brought him here for a ‘collaboration’ with the ER, but she’s totally trying to recruit him for head of his own department. Turns out he and David Nolan are old friends. Same medical school maybe? I don’t know, no one’s gotten me those details yet. Anyway, Regina hardly leaves him alone. She only misses this little window because she’s hooking up with Doctor Locksley in the supply room on the 2nd floor.”

“She’s WHAT?!” Emma and Mary Margaret yelled at the same time and Ruby looked aghast for the first time today. Some other hospital staff in the area glanced over, but no one paid much mind beyond a head nod. Everyone was absorbed in their own need for caffeine, and no one was the wiser of the bombshell Ruby had just dropped.

“Oh shoot, I wasn’t supposed to say that. I promised Ella, damn it!”

“Ella, her assistant? I thought she quit,” Mary Margaret stage whispered.

“Oh she did. Made it a whole two months, which, you know, makes sense given the fact that Regina is a nightmare. But the last week she was here, she learned a crucial secret regarding her Majesty. She spilled last week at The White Rabbit, but I promised her I wouldn’t tell until she’s settled at her new job at GMH. So you did not hear this from me, and I did not hear this from her, capische?”

“I can’t believe the Evil Queen is dating someone,” Mary Margaret said, deeply disturbed by the idea. She shuddered at the thought, and this was someone who loved love. But love and Regina Mills didn’t really feel like concepts that belonged in the same sentence. Scratch that, they didn’t really even belong in the same book. “She’s just so…”

“Evil?” Emma responded. The nickname worked for a reason, after all. The hospital Chief was downright tyrannical.

“Exactly.”

“Well dating is a stretch. She’s screwing someone. But then again, who knows. Ella said she actually saw her smiling in those final days. And not that evil one she’s famous for. Like a real, genuine, I have a heart, smile.”

“No way,” Emma said at the same time Mary Margaret murmured, “Well would you look at that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m on the case. The temp is a totally easy mark – Sydney something. I’m buying him lunch tomorrow. I’ll have the whole story before you know it.”

“Won’t Graham be proud,” Emma chuckled, but her joke fell on deaf ears as something caught Ruby’s attention across the way. Her friend’s countenance changed immediately, putting Emma on alert.

“Ooh, they’re coming! Act normal.”

Normally, Emma would have laughed at that command, but she was too busy feeling the spike of adrenaline at the impending arrival of one Doctor Killian Jones. He really was a world-renowned trauma surgeon, who was working on a number of cutting-edge techniques that saved lives and gave critical care patients better chances to recover. She had actually heard of him a few years ago when reading about a new procedure to treat arrhythmia in patients with traumatic injury. He engineered it in the field, while serving in the British naval forces, and his paper had been circulating in cardiac wings around the country, but she never saw the man before last week when he arrived in Boston. Suffice it to say she could not have imagined that this marvel of modern medicine would also be so roguishly handsome.

Spotting him today across the great hall, Emma was struck again by just how attractive this man was. She couldn’t even comprehend it really. All she knew was that she had yet to find a fault in him. Every day she’d stolen secret glances, and every time he proved better than her memory. It was crazy, and very reminiscent of schoolgirl crushes and teenage day dreams, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. It was intoxicating, and despite her best efforts, she was powerless to turn Ruby’s invites to the show down when she could witness this each and every day.

The first thing that she’d noticed about him was his general presence. His posture was strong and straight and assured. He looked ready for anything, but somehow laid back, like he was totally in control. People naturally parted when he walked by, as if he silently willed the flow of the hospital traffic. Ruby called it swagger. Emma called it… well something not quite safe for work. Couple that general aura of authority with the classically gorgeous features of his face, and Emma was lost. On that first day (and okay, maybe on the others as well), she actually felt her knees get weak. She always thought that was a bogus cliché, but nope, it was real, and she was the proof of it. From there she was hooked, and over time she’d chronicled more and more things to like about him.

Yesterday it had been his hair. As she watched him across the atrium, she noticed that the shade shone bright in the sun, but that it was nearer to midnight than any color brown. It was slightly longer than most of the other male doctors wore theirs, but not so long that it looked unkempt or unprofessional, at least not yet. She knew for a fact that the military never would allow for such a style, and it felt like a bit of rebellion, or maybe a lack of care for what others thought. Both sent a delicious thrill through Emma, even though she had no real confirmation one way or another. Maybe he was just lazy, but that wasn’t how she imagined him…

And oh boy did she imagine him. At first she hadn’t meant to. She just had these flashbacks to seeing him that she carried through the day. These visceral visions always started the same: he would walk by, looking downright delicious and impossible to resist, then he would turn his eyes her way here in the middle of the hospital hustle and bustle. She’d feel caught in his stare, sense the hunger even from the distance, and her heart would quicken to a maddening crescendo as he walked her way. The rest of the world would fade from view, and it would feel like they were the only two people alive. Her gaze would stay transfixed on his almost cocky composure and the hard line of his bearded jaw. The attraction in his blue eyes would light a fire in her, and then, without so much as a word like ‘hello’ or ‘nice to meet you,’ he’d pull her into his embrace and kiss her senseless. She could practically taste him on her tongue, and yet she’d never even heard him speak. People who had, who were later interrogated by Ruby, mentioned that he had an accent. British or Irish, or something along those lines. That tidbit had played oh so sweetly in Emma’s mind this week. God, she’d love to hear him say her name -,

“Emma,” a voice beside her said, but it didn’t pull her out of the fog. “Oh my God, Emma, he’s looking right at you.”

“He’s what?” Emma said, blinking back to reality before finding that Doctor Jones was looking this way. She’d been so busy fantasizing, she stopped paying attention to what was right in front of her.

In the middle of the room, the man who had intrigued her for over a week was standing totally still, disregarding the swarm of people on all sides. His entire attention had shifted from the task ahead of him, and he was looking at her, staring with a blend of intrigue and something Emma couldn’t describe. Doctor Nolan had stopped as well, but he was clearly confused as to the delay. He seemed to ask his friend what was wrong, and Emma watched spell bound, as the lips she’d envisioned kissing her moved in some kind of unheard reply. She couldn’t make out his words, but she shivered at the passion and determination etched across his being. David then looked their way, and Emma knew that Doctor Jones – Killian - had asked about them. No, forget that, he had asked about her. He was looking right at her, and that spark of heat and desire she’d always imagined was nowhere near as tantalizing as the real thing. He was looking at her with the same hunger she’d reserved for her wildest imaginings. Holy crap, what was she going to do?

“Ruby?” she asked, her voice squeaked out in alarm. She tore her gaze from the approaching object of her desire and looked to her best friend with overt confusion and mild panic.

“Took him long enough to spot you. It’s been almost a week. I thought I was going to have to hire a marching band or one of those giant arrow guys they have at outlet malls.”

Emma didn’t understand, and then it dawned on her – her friend had planned this. Emma looked at Mary Margaret, but she was still staring in the distance. Only when Emma followed her gaze did she realize that Mary Margaret wasn’t looking at Killian. She was looking at David.

“Hey, ladies, you looking to order, or what? I ain’t got all day!”

The three of them jumped at the barista’s interruption and Mary Margaret surged ahead to the line. She rattled off an order, giving way too much money to the attendant while grabbing her cup with shaky hands. Then she looked at David and back to Emma with an expression that said Mary Margaret may just bolt. Ok, what the actual hell was going on?

Before she could begin to answer that internal question, Doctor Jones and Doctor Nolan were within ear shot. Emma wracked her brain for something to say when they finally got here, but was spared when David broke the ice.

“Doctor Swan,” he said with a head nod and a polite smile. They knew each other peripherally at this point. Emma had consulted on numerous ER cases since Doctor Nolan started his new position. But she wouldn’t call them friends. They were very much acquaintances. “I heard Earl MacDonald is recovering nicely. He most definitely has you to thank for that.”

“And you too,” she said, offering credit where it was due. “A quick diagnosis makes all the difference. I’ve noticed the ER is filled with them since you started.”

“That’s kind of you. I don’t believe you’ve met my friend, Doctor Jones.”

“Killian,” Doctor Jones said immediately, before offering a heart stopping smile of his own. Emma had yet to see the man smile, and her heart skipped a beat, the rhythm of her pulse skittering in an almost blissful way. “A pleasure to meet you, Swan.”

He offered his hand to her, and Emma took it, shaking in greeting even though it was uncommon for doctors or nursing staff to do so. Chief Mills stressed that germ management was a top priority at Mist Haven, and she’d come as close to banning the practice as was legal in the state of Massachusetts. Usually Emma didn’t mind, but germs were the farthest thing from her radar when their fingers touched. Instead, Emma was filled with the zapping sense of promise and a thrill of warmth that made her head swim.

“Emma,” she whispered. A beat passed between them, and Emma lost herself for too long. Only the clearing of a throat beside them brought her back to the moment. She let go of his hand, but tracked the slight disappointment on his face when she did. It filled her with a rush of something long forgotten. A sense of peace and elation she hadn’t tasted in years. “Um these are my friends, Ruby Lucas and Mary Margaret Blanchard. Ruby’s the head nurse in the cardiac unit. And Mary Margaret runs OT for the surgical division.”

Emma tore her gaze from Killian, watching her friends make their greetings. Ruby handled her own completely, and Mary Margaret seemed to have gathered her courage, but now it was David who looked shocked and spell bound. Everyone appeared to be thrown off kilter, and it was only Ruby in control of herself. To say her friend was positively delighted with these new developments would be an understatement. That glee rang out clear as day in her invite to both the attending doctors.

“So… Doctor Nolan, Doctor Jones, any way we could convince you to join us? The coffee’s just all right, but the company’s not half bad.”

Both men agreed immediately, and Emma fought her hardest not to blush. It was hard though, and her pulse was racing in the face of this development. Killian came to stand by her, the space between them so small but still too much to bear. She tried to get her bearings as the cranky barista handed her a latte. She struggled to think of something – anything – to say, but she was tongue tied. Instead, she looked at Killian, finding an openness in his expression that said he felt the same exact way. That gave her comfort and removed some of the tension from the moment.

“The hospital’s been buzzing since you got here,” Emma offered, waiting with him while he ordered a no nonsense coffee of his own. “A lot of people are hoping you’ll stay on past the month.”

“And you, love? Have you such hopes?” his words were earnest but laced with an almost cocky easiness that sent Emma’s mind humming in delight. Still, she played it cool. At least she hoped she did.

“Jury’s still out,” she replied, smiling when he looked a little crestfallen. “Well can you blame me? I hardly even know you. Still haven’t seen what you’re capable of.”

“Only a matter of time, Swan. You can trust in that.”

His words may seem benign, but they were loaded with hidden meaning, and Emma knew he meant each one. She swallowed harshly, thinking of the things he might be capable of. Damn, was it hot in here? Or was it just the devil on her shoulder spinning another one of those dirty dreams of hers?

When they’d all gotten a coffee, the five of them moved off to the patio just outside, reserved for hospital staff. The grounds were manicured beautifully, maintaining an oasis that seemed totally disconnected from the hectic nature of the hospital. This was one of Emma’s favorite places here, and she was surprised to hear that neither David nor Killian had been here yet. They all spent a few minutes making non-threatening small talk, with mostly Ruby moving the conversations along. But despite the fluttering feeling she was grappling with, Emma couldn’t say she hated this building anticipation. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. She was seated next to Killian, fully aware that all of his attention was devoted to her, and she reveled in it. At one point, while the others were talking about something with the OT department, Killian whispered to her and her alone.

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…” His eyes looked from hers down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from him. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across the summer sky.

“We could…” she continued, hoping he would elaborate and put into words what she herself was wishing for.

“That we could -,”

“Paging all staff to the ER. All staff to the ER for an incoming trauma, category 4.”

This time the PA was most definitely broadcasting a hospital wide announcement, and the irony wasn’t lost on Emma. Ruby looked positively forlorn at the interruption, but it was somewhat poetic after how they’d gotten here.

“Category four,” David repeated, standing immediately, prompting all of them to do the same. “We haven’t had a four since I started. We’re gonna need all hands on deck. Killian?”

“Aye, mate. I’m with you.” He looked back to Emma, and only had time for the swiftest goodbye. “Until next time, love.”

Emma and her friends watched them go, running towards the ER. Belatedly, they realized that if a trauma of that magnitude was coming into the hospital, there were bound to be surgical cases flooding their ward soon enough. They hustled back to their wing, focused once more on their jobs and the lives on the line that they were sworn to help heal and make better. But Emma still carried that moment with her for the rest of the day, and when the shift was over and done, and she’d done all she could to help the people in her care, she was left wondering what exactly Doctor Jones was hoping to ask, and when, oh when, he may try to do so again.

Post-Note: So there we have it. This was originally going to be a oneshot for my CS mixtape series, but alas, the muse wants what she wants, and this time that’s a three part mini-story for all of us to share. Hope that you guys have enjoyed so far and I would love to hear what you think! As always, thanks so much for reading, and I hope you are all staying well in this crazy time! xE

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan au #cs fic #cs #cs ff #cs fluff #cs smut #cs meet cute #captain swan meet cute #emma swan #killian jones #ruby lucas #snowing fic #the best bad idea #the best bad idea 1 #cs doctors au #cs medical au #once upon a time

54 notes · View notes

wouldpollyapprove · 4 years

Text

Her Father’s Daughter

Request: Could u do tommy shelby and his daughter (possibly around 4-5 years old) with the fluff print list 2 “You’re the best thing I never knew I needed.” if that makes sense idk i just want some dad tommy fluff

i was wondering if u could write a singe dad tommy shelby 🥺🥺 like at he start of season one and she’s 5, base it off the first episode? sorry if it’s too accurate it came to me in a dream and i’m sure as hell not talented enough to write it🤣 love ur work !!

I have a request for Tommy Shelby! He gets really over protective with his daughter! ❤️

Requested by Anonymous, Anonymous, & Anonymous!

Thomas Shelby x Daughter! Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Language, mention of drugs & alcohol

A/n: The amount of requests I got asking for Tommy as a father is amazing. I love the idea of this man with kids, he’d be so gentle and caring. Let’s be honest, though, I would rather be nice to children than I would adults. Adults can be assholes. I hope you guys enjoy this because I loved writing it.

Masterlist

The world was forever changed after the chaos that was the Great War. Men came back in casts, bandages, and body bags. Some never returned home, stuck in the trenches of war that other’s were lucky enough to escape. There was not one person that returned home the same. All were just as messed up in the head as the next. The Shelby brothers weren’t exempt from that.

Tommy was, by far, the brother most affected by the war. His boyish smiles all but disappeared, only given to one special person. He kept to himself, spending most of his time at home, and when he had to go out, it was with his family. Tommy no longer pretended to be a simple man. That wasn’t him anymore. He had done violent, bloody deeds during the service of his country and he wouldn’t hide that. That was the man he was now: violent.

But that wasn’t what his daughter saw.

Only five when he returned, she didn’t see a broken man. She saw her playmate, her knight in shining armor, her father. Y/n knew nothing of what he had seen, the horrors of modern war, only that he was home once more.

“Where are we going?” She grasped onto her father’s hand, eyes jumping between the different people in the street.

Tommy couldn’t help but smile at her behavior. Everything caught her eye. He knew she would be too smart for her own good when she was older. “We-” Tommy slowed his pace and scooped her into his arms, deciding it easiest to carry her the rest of the way. His legs were too long for her tiny ones to keep up. “-are going to a family meeting.”

“Oh,” she drawled, playing with the collar of his jacket. “Is Aunt Polly gonna be there?” Eyes wide in excitement, she waited with a smile for his answer.

Her father nodded, earning an eruption of giggles from his daughter.

It was moments like these that he cherished the most. Polly had told him, with his work schedule, it was best to let her or Ada take care of her while he was away, but Tommy just couldn’t have that. Y/n’s mother, who he’d made the mistake of marrying, had fucked off when she realized she didn’t want to be tied down. Leaving her baby girl and husband in Birmingham, she fled to Rome with a painter and made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with them. Of course, Y/n was too small to understand that, the love that her mother didn’t hold for her, but Tommy would never make her feel unloved. And so, there was never once that he wished to pawn his daughter off onto other people. She was his responsibility and she would accompany him everywhere he went.

The solution was a win-win for both of them. Tommy was able to keep a watchful eye on his daughter and take care of her every need, while Y/n was able to experience new things and spend time with her dad. Both were extremely happy with the setup.

Within minutes, the pair were upon Polly’s house, squeals of excitement came from his daughter’s lips when he opened the door. Warm air and cigarette smoke wafted around him as Tommy dropped Y/n into a chair at the kitchen table, Polly across from her.

“Look at my lovely girl,” Polly cooed and extended a hand to stroke the coils in her hair. “I see someone has learned a thing or two from their sister.” She raised a brow at her nephew.

Placing a tray of biscuits on the table for Y/n to snack on, Tommy shrugged. “Ada said it was hard, real easy for me.”

His aunt nodded, her lips turned up in a smile as she watched the little girl in front of her. Polly was far from pleased when Y/n’s mother left, reminded her too much of her bastard brother. While her nephews were off at war, she took Y/n in and raised her while her father was away. Once Tommy returned, though, that all changed. No matter her protests, Tommy would hear none of it when she offered to help him with his daughter. His little girl was the only good thing in his life and he wasn’t going to pawn her off onto other people like she was a burden.

Knowing her nephew, Polly knew there was no arguing with Tommy and just let him do as he pleased. As long as Y/n and Tommy were happy and healthy, she had no reason to worry.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked, peering up at Tommy from where he was leaning against the counter.

“About horses!” Y/n shouted while searching for the perfect biscuit to eat. “Lots and lots of horses!” In recent months, it wasn’t hard for the family to see how much she resembled her father in every way. His love for horses, strong as an ox before the war, had soon become her’s and she wasn’t shy about it.

“Horses?” she raised a brow. “What about horses, Thomas?”

“The races, pol. The races.”

“And how are we gonna do that?” She all about shouted, keeping her voice down once she remembered there was a child in the room.

Tommy waved away her question, instead turning his attention to his daughter. Kneeling down to her level, he brushed a loose curl out of her face and tucked it behind her hair. “Have you ever made biscuits with aunt Pol?”

Y/n nodded, licking the sugar off her sticky fingers. Once finished with the task at hand, she said, “We made ‘em for Christmas.”

It was his turn to nod, an idea sparking to life. “Aunt Polly makes the best biscuits.”

“Don’t change the subject.” His aunt glared at him. “We don’t have the money to even touch the races.”

“We’ll get the fuckin’ money,” he mumbled, standing straight once again.

“Thomas!”

Unphased by his words, she’d heard worse at home, Y/n laid her head against the table. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d stuffed her face full of sugar or that she didn’t want to sleep the night before, but exhaustion hit her like a freight train.

“Poor dear,” Polly’s attention quickly shifted from Tommy to his daughter. “Oh, she’s already asleep.” She motioned to the closed eyes and even breathes.

Tommy should have known she wouldn’t make it halfway through the day. She played rough and that’s what she had done before they’d left to visit Polly. It didn’t help that she refused to go to bed the night before. Though she could manage off a few hours’ sleep for a while, her father was like a dead man walking when he’d first woken up.

“Put her on the sofa and then we’ll finish discussing your outrageous idea.”

Doing as he was told, Tommy gently picked the sleeping child up, doing his best not to wake her and anger his aunt. Careful not to brush the doorway, he walked through the house and into the parlor, stopping in front of the sofa. With one hand he moved a pillow to one side to support her head and then guided her to the soft cushions. Y/n grabbed the pillow out of habit as her father draped a quilt over her. Hopefully, she would be able to get some sleep. If her uncles’ burst threw the door, Tommy wasn’t sure much would keep him from killing them.

Before leaving her to nap, Tommy brushed the hair out of her face, placing a kiss on her temple, he muttered, “You’re the best thing I never knew I needed.”

And, indeed, she was. Without that little girl in his life, Tommy would be another one of the war’s lost boys, walking down a road with no hope, no light at the end. Like so many, he would know nothing but the dark nature of the bottom of a bottle and a pile of cocaine. Without Y/n he would be a dead man walking and he couldn’t thank her enough for all that she’d done for him, whether she knew it or not.

*~~*~~*

Let me know if you would like to be added to the permanent tag list.

Permanent taglist: @amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithe @jenepleurepasbaby @fernweh-fangirl @the-anxious-youth @theshelbyclan @wtfdanness @chloeforde @futuristicslimemongerbanana @lucillethings @nemesis729 @sirkekselord @princesscornbread @i-volunteer-for-finnick @iwillboilyourteeth @anyasthoughts

Thomas Shelby Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @imnotuglyimjustpredebut

#peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #the peaky blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shleby imagines #tommy shelby imagine

619 notes · View notes

lost-in-sokovia · 4 years

Text

Five to Seven Minutes

hello loves! i wanted to write this lil steve rogers fic based off one of my FAVORITE episodes of “The Office” season 6 episode 17, “Special Delivery Part 1”! basically in the episode pam is going to go into labor and jim is trying to get her to go to the hospital but she keeps putting it off and it turns out that she’s actually scared to give birth🥺. i was getting vibes that i feel like that’ll be me with my husband when i’m older so i wanted to write this.😂 so “The Office” fans, please enjoy!!🤍

Warnings: pain/contractions, stress, but mostly fluff and comedy :)

“It’s not every night we all sit together... at a huge table like this...” Tony commented in annoyance.

He was right. For once in a really long time, all the members of the Avengers (and their kids and wives, to Tony’s dismay) were all together at one table. It wasn’t like the first time you were all together, no. You’ve been at parties with each other and mutually hung out together, but this was like an arranged gathering.

It was nice, having everyone together. All the kids sat on one end while the adults sat on the other, a few parents occasionally checking on the kids to make sure everything was going well. You couldn’t help but stare lovingly at the kids knowing that soon you’d have one over there as well.

You rubbed your nine month baby bump. Your baby was ready to pop any day now. (Steve was ecstatic he was going to have a baby. He was so ready to give the baby a good life with a good father by it’s side.)

“Shut up Tony, this is so nice.” You smiled. Everyone was just about finished eating and just relaxing and chatting. Steve grinned at you and put his hand on top of yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“Have you gotten any baby names yet?” Laura asked across from you. You shrugged.

“I mean, we have one in mind...”

“Yeah but Cap’s the kind of guy to want to give his kid a real 40’s name like Paul, or something way too over done like James,” Tony chimed in, earning a salty “hey!” from Bucky. Steve shook his head.

“You’d be surprised how accustomed to change I am in life by now,” he remarked as he folded his napkin.

“Plus, what if it’s a girl?” You inquired. The two of you had decided to do it the old fashioned way and wait until the baby was born to find out it’s gender. Pepper smiled at you right as Morgan ran up to peek at you over your big bump.

“Hi little miss!” You said happily as Morgan smiled from ear to ear. She reached her hands over your bump and rubbed it from over the soft material of your comfy floral dress.

“Aunt (Y/N) when will the baby be here?” She asked with a sparkle in her wide brown eyes. You sighed gently and stroked her dark hair.

“Any day now love,” you responded. She kissed your bump quickly before running back off to join her friends.

“(Y/N), we’re not having any more kids so it’s your job to keep Morgan entertained with more babies,” Tony joked. You laughed and adjusted your dress.

You guessed having that job wouldn’t be the worst, right?

~•~•~•~•~

Later that night you layed in bed with loose pajamas on. Steve turned off the bathroom light as he finished brushing his teeth and joined you under the covers.

You pulled your hair away as you gripped the sheets and gasped. Steve looked at you and gently grabbed one of your hands.

“Are you alright doll?” He asked. You nodded and inhaled. You scrunched over slightly and let out a few groans.

“Ahhhhhhh okay,” you exhaled in pain. Steve’s blue eyes studied you in concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Is it time?” He suggested. You shook your head as your breathing steadied again.

“No it’s fine Steve. I’m fine, it’s really okay.” You shut your heavy eyelids and sighed once more. He looked at you with uncertainty before adjusting himself on his back. You were out like a light before anything else could happen.

Steve felt his child kick from your belly pressed against his side. Steve grinned before allowing himself to fall into dreamland.

~•~•~•~•~

The next day you found yourself in the same position.

You played off your contractions like they were no big deal. Steve wasn’t going to argue with you, it wasn’t like he had any better experience with babies. And since neither of you liked hospitals, you agreed you weren’t going to put yourself in there any earlier than you had to.

That afternoon you sat on the couch of the living area with Peter. The two of you had been progressively watching 80’s movies together and snacking on all your cravings. Peter wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to eat good food and watch classic movies. You both shared almost a childlike bond that allowed you the two of you to share a relationship that he didn’t even have with Tony.

“Alright Peter, what’s next on the list?” You asked as the credits from “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” rolled on the screen.

“Well next is The Outsiders’ and then finally ‘Footloose,’” he grinned. You clapped your hands excitedly.

“Awesome, well-“ you cut off as a contraction pierced through your stomach. You hunched over and grabbed your stomach, letting out a few breaths.

“Ah, getting there?” Natasha asked as she passed by. You shook your head and waved your hand.

“No, I’ve got plenty of time,” you reassured to a nervous Peter. He looked at you nervously before starting up your next movie. It was fine, you weren’t worried. You had a little bit more time, right?

Later that day the team was getting ready for an Avengers meeting. You stood around with the team and chatted casually before you all started. Steve came over and slid an arm around your waist.

“Hey babe, doing okay?” He asked. You nodded warmly before you squinted your eyes and bit your lip, suddenly grasping one of his hands.

“Agh, okay,” he choked out as you rode out the contraction. “Hey how about we just head to the hospital and check everything out, okay?” Steve suggested. You smiled and looked back in your husband’s eyes.

“No, I’m fine. We’re okay. Not earlier than we have to be, remember?” You reminded. Steve chuckled uncomfortably and nodded. Tony suddenly made his way over and glanced at your stomach.

“Almost time?” He asked. Steve shot him a nervous nod while you shook your head in disagreeance.

“No, we’re waiting,” you explained with a small bite. Steve tried to argue back but Tony clapped his hands.

“Come on Cap, obviously she wants to wait. I say we all help distract her,” Tony said loudly. Everyone looked over. Steve’s eyes narrowed and he grimaced. He knew Tony would take any opportunity to push his buttons and tick him off. You nodded around at everyone and smiled at Tony in relief.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you exhaled as you slowly made your way to a chair. Steve followed behind quickly and reluctantly helped you sit down as Tony announced the new agenda to the team.

As you and and Steve sat next to each other hand in hand, you quietly rode through another contraction. Steve stared at the watch on his wrist and his face lit up.

“Seven minutes, that’s contractions seven minutes apart (Y/N)!” He whispered excitedly. You smiled at him warmly but shook your head.

“Come on Stevie not sooner than we have to, remember?” You pointed out. He frowned.

“But (Y/N)-“

“Alright (Y/N),” Tony clapped. “We’re here to help.” You smiled as Steve glared at everyone behind him. His eyes scanned the room and he saw Sam and Bucky trying to hide discreetly in the background, to which he gave them an even dirtier look. “Anyone got anything interesting or spectacular? This is the only time we will ever be doing a talent show so take advantage now,” Tony reminded. Scott’s hand raised slowly.

“I can be tiny,” he said. Tony gestured for him to come up and demonstrate. Your eyes were glued to the front of the room as Steve looked at you and sighed anxiously.

You watched Scott change size, you watched Thor chug beer, you watched Clint shoot an arrow directly through anything he targeted, you even watched a mjolnir lifting contest. You still sat and rode out plenty of contractions.

“(Y/N) come on, every seven minutes is the start,” Steve pleaded. You shook your head and he stood up. “Nope, nope, come on. We’re going to the hospital,” he said sternly as he reached out his hand for you to take.

“No Steve really I’m fine,” you argued. His blue eyes raged as he looked around.

“You know what, fine. By the way, hate that you’re all helping her,” he growled before walking out. You shrugged as he walked out. All he was trying to do was take you to the hospital. You didn’t need him.

Sam and Bucky ran out after Steve who was pacing in the hallway.

“I know (Y/N) better than anyone else on the team,” Steve muttered to his friends. Steve pulled out his phone and Googled contractions.

“Five to seven minutes.” One website. “Five to seven minutes.” Another website. “Six minutes. Different, but not really.” Again. “Five to seven minutes.” He read off. He scoffed in amusement before looking up at the ceiling anxiously.

Back in the conference room, you were having some difficulties.

Nat had taken Steve’s place next to you and held your hand tightly as you breathed heavily.

“I think we should listen to Steve, (Y/N),” she said softly. You groaned out a “no!” before inhaling sharply and looking around.

“No, okay... Hey where’s Peter? Is it time for ‘Footloose?’” You asked. Peter stood up slowly in the back and walked up unsurely to you.

“Uh, y-yeah...” He said unsurely. He looked back at Tony for approval who nodded at him. Nat helped you up and Peter linked arms with you, walking you slowly out of the room.

When the two of you passed Steve and the boys you simply lifted your chin and kept your eyes straight forward, not even acknowledging him (while Peter looked down nervously, he didn’t exactly always enjoy trying to upset Captain America). Sam broke away and came up to your other side and linked arms and continued to walk with you.

“Sam, I’m fine. I get to the hospital when I get to the hospital...” You reassured calmly. Sam stared at you. “And if I don’t make it, I don’t make it,” you added. Sam shot a glance of confusion and concern at Peter who shrugged. And with that, Sam let go and let you walk calmly onward.

As you and Peter walked down the hallway, your eyes widened as you felt a gush of water down your leg. You halted to a stop luckily right in front of your room.

“Hey Peter, I’m just gonna change really quickly,” you said happily. Peter nodded as you waddled into your room and shut the door. You took a few deep breaths before walking over to Steve’s drawers and pulling out sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Steve jogged down to meet Peter who stood awkwardly outside the door.

“She’s in there,” he said meekly. Steve nodded in thanks before quickly slipping in the door. He found you slipping on his shirt with the sweatpants already on. He smiled at you.

“Hey,” he said happily. You looked over and smiled.

“Hey babe.” You walked over and hugged him over your large bump. He smiled at you as you looked up at him. “Look, Steve. Everything is okay, I promise.” You reassured. He opened his mouth to say something and nodded slowly. “He’s not coming out for a while, okay?” You laughed. Steve’s eyes widened and he raised an eyebrow.

“Did you say ‘he’?”

Your face went blank with fear. “I had Bruce tell me about a week ago, I couldn’t wait.” You replied in a nervous whisper. Steve stared at you with wide blue eyes. You bit your lip. “Please don’t be mad,” you pleaded quietly. He looked at you with teary eyes.

“How could I be mad? We’re having a son...” He whispered as tears brimmed his eyes. You smiled and nodded happily. “We’re having a son!” He repeated a little louder as you laughed joyfully. He hugged you again before you gently pulled away.

“Wow, I feel better,” Steve remarked. You smiled and gave one of his hands a squeeze.

“Good. Now I’m gonna go downstairs and watch ‘Footloose’ with Peter,” you said before slowly making your way to the door. Steve remembered something and turned around to watch you.

“Oh hey, why are you wearing my clothes now?” He asked curiously. You turned around and smiled, rubbing your bump.

“Oh! My water broke,” you explained with a light giggle.

“Oh!” Steve replied as you shrugged and walked back out. He suddenly went pale. “Oh, oh...”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Peter asked. Your lips were sucked in from pain as you nodded. Peter exhaled shakily and shrugged, turning on the movie.

It was only five minutes into the movie when you let out a loud yell, startling poor Peter. You grasped your stomach and grit your teeth. Steve and Tony both heard you and ran in, kneeling in front of you.

“Alright (Y/N), I think it’s time to go to the hospital now,” Steve tried to urge happily. You waved your hand and dismissed it.

“No no, come on (Y/N) I think Steve is right,” Tony chimed in.

“No no guys I appreciate it but I’m fine-“

“Look (Y/N) even Tony says we should go. Tony knows what he’s doing right?”

“Y-Yeah we can watch ‘Footloose’ later,” Peter tried. You shook your head.

“Come on lets just go see, huh?” Steve tried as he glanced at Tony who nodded. Steve and Tony then stood up and tried to pull you up. You then shifted your weight backwards in protest to fight back.

“No no I’m not- I’m not going! I’m not going because I’m scared I can’t do this.” Your voice shifted from yelling to breaking softly. Steve looked at you sadly and kneeled back down. You were crying softly as Steve held your hand and looked at you with wide blue eyes.

“Hey, listen. I don’t know anyone stronger than you,” Steve began softly. You stared at him with watery eyes as he gently wiped away one of your tears. “I know you can do this. Now I know it’s scary (Y/N) I’m scared too,” he chuckled lightly.

“I’m literally petrified I have no clue what to do,” Peter added. You glanced over sadly before looking back at your husband.

“But we’re going to get the best gift out of all of this, okay?” He asked softly. You nodded and inhaled slowly. He smiled at you and glanced over at Tony. “Alright Tony, how far apart are they?” Steve asked quietly.

“Friday?” Tony asked.

“Three minutes, boss.” Friday replied casually. Tony shrugged at Steve, who’s blue eyes were fiery as he looked down.

“Th-three minutes? Tony, Tony you said you’d warn me at five! What happened to five and four, huh?” Steve began to yell in stress. Your eyes darted from Steve to Tony as you cowarded back and began to cry again.

“Oh no no no I can’t have my baby here I want to go to the hospital!” You began to cry nervously. Tony looked down at you with determined brown eyes.

“And that’s where we’re going right now. Friday, pull the car around and Steve you get some things ready,” Tony instructed calmly. Steve shot him a dirty look before running to grab some essentials. You stared at Tony with fear in your misty eyes. “Guess where we’re going?” Tony asked.

“The hospital,” you choked in response.

“Yes and guess what we’re going to do?”

“Have a baby,” you answered. Tony reaches out and gently helped you up.

“Yep we’re going to go to the hospital and have a baby,” Tony told you. He guided you out to he exit as Steve ran after you. Peter scrambled to go get the team.

You were on your way to the hospital to have a baby.

~•~•~•~•~

(“He’s beautiful,�� you whispered. You held your son in a blue blanket on your hospital bed. Steve day with you on the bed and held you close, admiring Luca Grant Rogers sleeping in your arms. “Wanna count his fingers and toes again?” You joked.

“No no, I’m sure there’s eleven on each,” Steve whispered back in response without taking an eye off his son.

“Okay,” you whispered sweetly in agreeance.

It had been a long 24 hours.)

i hope you guys liked that! it was really fun for me to write since i love “the office” SO MUCH! i hoped some of you caught when i quoted jim and pam, they really are goals! thanks for reading!🤍

435 notes · View notes

jawritter · 4 years

Text

The Arrangement

Part 7

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Hints of anxiety on the readers part, getting settled in, I think that’s pretty much it, this one is pretty mild.

Word Count: 1541

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

You and Jensen had been at the B&B for two days. The day after your wedding Jensen spent the day pampering, and cuddling you, not letting you cook, not letting you do much of anything, except lay there in each other's arms and watch TV.

Well, what little bit of time he didn't have you otherwise preoccupied with his lips. Which if you were being completely honest you didn't mind even a little bit.

He hadn’t left you alone for even one minute, even took a shower with you this morning. You thought you had successfully beaten him awake, but he slipped right in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and continued to pamper you. Showing you things about yourself you didn’t even know.

It was almost amazing, the way he could play your body like a fine tuned instrument, and you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of the feeling you got everytime he touched you.

Last night, before you'd gone to bed Jensen had told you that today you were going to go back to Austin to the home that he had there.

You were grateful that you weren't being dragged to California, but you were also grateful to get away from Dallas.

You wanted to leave all the hurt that the memories of your hometown brought behind. You wanted to start over with Jensen, to create the real marriage he was talking about, maybe have a little family of your own, even if he didn't want to have children, as long as you had him, that was all you needed.

You'd been up for a few hours, and had packed everything and placed it by the door, everything that you could anyway, leaving Jensen out a change of clothes and his bathroom bag so that he could get dressed when he got up.

You had, had two days off of being a wife, which was now your main duty and concern, and it was time to start doing what you knew you were supposed to do. Provide a comfortable living environment for your husband.

Watching the pile of covers move up and down with each of Jensen's deep breaths, you couldn't help but smile as you watched him sleep through the door you had left open.Sitting at the small bar in the middle of the kitchen you could hear the distant, soft sounds of his snoring filtering into the kitchen from the bedroom.

In just two days, he’d managed to make you fall in love with him. You don't know when exactly you'd fallen head over hills for him, though you knew that it was too late for you, you were in love with him. Now you just had to make sure he was happy and allowed you to stay.

Three hours later Jensen had got up, got dressed, and got his coffee. The car was loaded and you were on the road headed toward Austin, Texas, what was soon to be your new home.

"You're going to like it here sweetheart, I've got a house in the hill country outside of Austin. It's peaceful here, no one to bother us. We got all the time in the world to ourselves. I'm not going back to work, not right now anyways. I might do some local stuff around Austin, just to keep myself busy, but I want to spend as much time with you as possible. I want to get to know my wife."

Lacing your fingers with his, he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your knuckles as he kept his eyes on the road. The traffic thickened up as you got closer and closer to Austin.

You smiled at him a little, and then looked back out of the passenger side window, watching the scenery go by in a blur as the car moved down the highway.

Jensen was doing everything he knew how to do to make you happy, you could tell that much. He was going above and beyond to make sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. That was a behavior you didn't really expect, though it wasn't unwelcome.

You were wrapped up in your own thoughts when Jensen pulled you back into reality.

"Y/n, you sure you're okay? You haven't said a word since we left Dallas." He looked at you with concern in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just a little tired still. I am fine though Jensen, you don't have to worry about me." you tell him , and he grips your hand tighter.

"You've been through a lot over the last week, I just don't want to overwhelm you." he said, looking back to the road, holding your hand tightly in his, making little circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

The rest of the car ride to Jensen's house was pretty quiet. You watched your surroundings as they went by you, trying to make sure you could find where you needed to go if you had to do it alone. You'd never really driven anywhere outside of Dallas, so when you had to go grocery shopping for you the first time it was probably going to be quite the experience.

"Here we are. Home sweet home." Jensen said, pulling up in the front of a house that was hidden in a little cove of trees just outside the actual city limits of Austin.

"What do you think?"

Jensen was watching your every move, trying to decipher the look that was on your face. You'd never seen anything like this little house. You definitely never thought you'd see live in anything like this.

"Jensen I love it." you say, looking around the peaceful grounds. You could totally see yourself sitting out back in the cool of the day, enjoying the quiet peace that seemed to surround this place.

"Good. I'm glad you like it." Jensen said, leaning down giving you a quick peck on the cheek before he got out of the car to go and open your door.

Once you got into the house it was the most gorgeous house you'd ever seen, cute, modern, and sleek, yet very inviting and comfortable. Not at all what you expected.

Jensen walked in with you, watching you closely.

"Will this be okay? We can change whatever you want, or hell if you're uncomfortable here we can just move."

He watched you with bated breath. He wanted this to work between the two of you, he wanted you to be comfortable. He wanted you to feel like you had a home.

"Jensen, it's perfect, we don't have to change anything, and we don't have to move." you tell him, laughing a little at his nervousness.

It was the first time he'd ever heard you laugh, and he couldn't help but smile. Sitting the bags down on the floor, he closed the distance between the two of you in two short strides, wrapping his arms around your waist he pulled you to him, and hugged you like his life depended on it.

"Good, I want you to be happy here baby."

He put his lips softly to yours for a moment. A slow, sweet kiss. Nothing needy, nothing pressing, just the two of you enjoying the feeling of each other lips moving and working together.

Even though you have been through a lot, and if you were being completely honest you were more than a little overwhelmed, you could get used to this.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him, his lips on yours. It was a feeling that was absolutely indescribable. Perfect even.

Jensen's phone started to ring, breaking the sweet moment you were having between the two of you. Jensen groaned and pulled away from you just enough to look at his phone.

"That's Jared, he’s a friend of mine I used to work with on Supernatural. He's a little upset that I didn't tell him about the wedding until the day it was supposed to happen. He's not so into the whole arranged marriage thing. I probably need to call him, and tell him that everything is okay. Let him know we're back in Austin."

Leaning down he gave your cheek a peck, and grabbed your bags off the floor where he’d laid them.

"Go get settled in, get to know the house. When I get back, we will figure out what we want to do for dinner. I don't want you to have to cook tonight. I want us to just spend time with each other tonight. Okay?" he said, reaching up with his free hand, and brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face with this hand.

That burning desire that you recognized in his eyes from the first night the two of you were together, combined with the soft little gesture makes you blush, and look away from him.

"Okay" was all you could whisper back to him as he walked away from you into another room to call his friend.

Was it normal to feel this way about this man already? God he knew how to make you weak in the knees without even really trying. It was definitely going to take some practice to get to where you could think clearly around him, because he had a way of captivating you, and completely clouding your mind from anything but him.

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

Tag List: @deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen x you #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #dean winchester #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #x reader inserts #jawritter #jawritter 1k celebration

140 notes · View notes

thetypedwriter · 4 years

Text

Imaginary Friend Book Review

Imaginary Friend by Stephen Chbosky Book Review

This is undoubtedly the weirdest book I have ever read.

You might be thinking… but, thetypedwriter you read fanfiction! This can’t be the weirdest thing you’ve ever read! Things like ABO universes exist!

You would think that, wouldn’t you?

But no.

I shall endeavor to give you a spoiler free synopsis of the book first followed by my thoughts and criticism, but note that this is an endeavor for a reason. I have now explained this novel in depth to two different people, and both times I have found myself completely and irrevocably stuck on how to even begin, let alone end.

With that forewarning, here we go.

The novel surrounds a single mother and her young son moving to a small Pennsylvania town in order to escape the tragedies of their past that include the passing of her husband and her current abusive boyfriend.

However, while things in their new home start out well-they find solutions to unemployment, poverty, the son’s dyslexia, etc, things start to go awry when Christopher, the son, is lured into the Mission Street Woods at the edge of town by a voice only he seems to be able to hear.

As Christopher continues to listen to the voice in the form of a cloud, or a plastic bag, or even inside of his mind, he starts recruiting his friends to build a treehouse in the woods that will transport him to a different time and place. The voice, lovingly called the Nice Man, instructs him to finish the tree house by Christmas Day.

Or else everyone will die.

As Christopher struggles with newfound powers and responsibilities, coping with two different worlds, his mother struggles with her son’s sanity, the town struggles with anger, blame, and temptation, and what follows is the chaotic descent of a small town into the throes of good versus evil, love and loss, and most importantly, trying to differentiate what is real versus what is imaginary.

In the simplest terms possible (a facetious statement if there ever was one), I thought this was going to be a thriller mystery book about a single mother and her young seven-year-old son Christopher leaving their home and her abhorrent abusive boyfriend in order to start a new life with hope and potential.

And it….is?

But it doesn’t stop there. Chbosky crams so many genres, themes, motifs, and messages into this book that when you think about it, it’s unsurprising that it’s over 700 pages long with the tiniest, most miniscule font I have ever had to squint at.

However, make no mistakes like I did, this book is horror.

Yup. You read that right folks, horror.

To preface, and I might have mentioned this in another post for another book at some point, but I vehemently dislike horror of any kind. This extends to books, movies, shows, etc.

I understand that horror is a great joy and pleasure for a vast amount of people and that it contains its own literary merit, tropes, and rules, and I can appreciate that for what it is from afar, but I personally take very little enjoyment from consuming anything horror related (I apologize to all the Stephen King fans out there in the world).

I did not fully realize the extent to which this book was a true horror.

This is entirely my own fault. I was very much blinded by the rosy colored glasses from college when I first read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Chbosky’s first and only other novel.

Perks is wonderful. It is a tragic, yet fundamentally hopeful and loving bildungsroman that shows the beauty and the pain of growing up and accepting yourself. The movie with Emma Watson is what dreams are made of.

I committed author fraud when I picked up Imaginary Friend based on the pure speculation that I would most likely like it since he had written Perks, a book I adored as both a reader and a teacher.

I’ve warned readers against this in the past, but it seems like I should have taken my own advice: just because an author has written one good book or one book you like, does not automatically mean you will like their second book, or any of their other books for that matter.

This cannot possibly ring more true for Stephen Chbosky, as not only are his two books completely different in narrative and structure, but also vastly different in genre and purpose.

I should have stuck with my gut and realized that I probably wouldn’t like this book based off the synopsis, the genre, and yes, even the cover (it looks scary to me, okay?), but I said noooooo, it’s Chbosky, you have to read it!

And this is where we ended up.

First of all, I didn’t hate the book.

I can recognize that it is extremely well written, well crafted, and well developed. I can enjoy a slew of characters, and oh boy are there a multitude to pick from, and I can give credit where credit is due.

Chbosky is a talented writer. There is no doubt in my mind about this. The way he crafts words, the way he plays with texture and space, and with fonts and sizes, is nothing less of sheer brilliance.

He undoubtedly is also masterful at motifs, foreshadowing, and symbolism. Notably, there were so many recurring objects, colors, metaphors, and so on that were sprinkled out so consecutively and intentionally throughout the novel-some I didn’t even pick up until the end-that I was left reeling from how immensely talented and brilliant he is.

Things like his use of baby teeth, blue moon, and fogs/clouds/mist struck me in particular. I know this seems like gibberish, but Chbosky truly came across as understanding what he wanted to portray and how he wanted to deliver it.

However, the biggest compliment I can give to Chbosky is the sheer magnitude of his imagination and creativity. This book almost overwhelmed me through the use of ideas and concepts I had never really thought of before.

Alternate dimensions? Check.

Supernatural powers? Check.

Incredible use of diction and figurative language? Check and check.

Chbosky had so many wild and tantalizing beautiful turns of phrases, expressions, and descriptions that it left me with the same sort of gasping epiphany that Maggie Steifvater’s writing always leaves me with, the feelings that writing can be so utterly beautiful and compelling, that it can be all-consuming as well as never ending with its potential to stun, to create, and to warp to unique needs and purposes.

It definitely was a reading experience quite like any other I’ve had.

Be that because of the horror genre or because of Chbosky’s odd, yet addicting writing style and this has definitely become a book that left me more than a bit dumbfounded. Although I’ve sung its praises and admitted to my own faults at this point, this book isn’t without flaws.

To me the horror genre itself is just not my cup of tea like I’ve stated. Strike number one.

Second, the book was...abysmally long. Atrociously long. As I’ve also said before, I do not mind large books. In fact, big books when you’re reading something you love is a true blessing. Finding that fanfiction at 3am that hooks you immediately and you look up to see its 300k? Amazing.

Starting a new book series that you fall in love with body and soul and realize you have several installments left in the series to gorge and devour? Ecstasy.

Sloughing through a single book that starts to drag on and on repetitiously for what seems like forever? Borderline hell.

This book could have been 300 pages shorter and still contained everything Chbosky wanted to accomplish. It could have had the same brilliant writing, messages, and motifs, but without all of the never-ending back and forth between worlds and battles that just kept popping up time and time again. The abominable length considering its content is strike two.

Last, the ending was a bit of a cluster. At this point in the novel, so much is going on, you are being exposed to so many pov’s that it’s almost stress-inducing, and events taking place are cataclysmic and 10/10 on drama. Chbosky bit off more than he could chew here.

The book choked itself at the end, which, after reading for 700 pages is not the feeling you want to have. The ending left me befuddled, disappointed, and also bereft of a conclusive end and explanation for the shitstorm that had just rained down. It was not the ending I wanted, could understand, or could even really grasp. Strike three.

This book has a plethora of merits followed by three enormous criticisms. If you like horror, then you’ve already crossed hurdle number one. If you can accept it’s repellant length (let alone have days upon days of free time to actually ingest said behemoth) then that’s hurdle number two.

Hurdle three is up to you. Perhaps you would like the ending where as I found it lacking in structure, content, and answers. I like my endings tied up with neat little bows. I don’t like to be left thinking...hmmmm what does this mean?

If I am going to read your massive book, I deserve an ending that satisfies the journey. Authors telling readers that it’s up for interpretation makes me want to strangle something. It comes across as enormously pretentious to me and oftentimes lazy.

In the case of Chbosky, I think he had given himself so many loose threads that the neat little bow I desired was next to impossible.

So he didn’t even try.

Score: 6/10

Recommendation: If you love The Shining, are lacking bouts of creativity and imagination, have lots of free time during Quarantine, and don’t mind having an Inception-esque ending where you might not get all the answers you want, while being tasked with concocting it for yourself, Imaginary Friend might be your new best friend.

Bonus: Here’s a pic of my kitty photo bombing this book shoot. Hope she brightens your day!

#imaginary friend #stephen chbosky #perks of being a wallflower #horror #horror book #stephen king #the shining #literature #books #book blog #book review #book rec #Book Recommendations #book reflection #book analysis #popular fiction #top books #booklover #book

72 notes · View notes