#I love what she says about Céline

[mrgaretcarter]

I need a pretty significant degree of commonality (both subjective and objective) between characters to ship them and I think that's why it's so hard to find f/f ships that draw me in. It's like people making media want to create the polarity that would usually be there through gender by making these women so starkly different that I just become unable to connect.

[russellsppttemplates]

Hiii i love your work, for blurb night I was wondering if you could write something about babysitting someone’s kids with one of the drivers and someone in public mistakes you for parents bc they are unaware of you the driver is and you guys look like a cute family. It’s okay if not. Thank you in advance !!!!

Note: I have the biggest baby fever right now and I saw many cute videos that had Lando with kids, and I can't stop thinking about them, but since I have written a lot for him today, I'm doing Charles. For the plot of this, I gave him a niece, so let's pretend Charlotte and Lorenzo had a kid!

"Don't you look cute in that hat, Céline?", you cooed as you made sure it covered her head properly and that is wasn't too tight around her neck.

Charlotte and Lorenzo once joked about how the ideal Christmas present for them would be someone willing to look after their daughter for a few days as they took the time to have a little trip to enjoy just the two of them. You and Charles, however, weren't joking when you said you'd happily take Céline for the week while they recharged their batteries. Today, since it was sunny, you and Charles decided it would be nice to go to the park.

"Let's go, then!", Charles cheered, pulling the stroller closer to you so you could strap her in safely before you left your place.

"We are going to see the duckies - do you like duckies, Céline? And we can just sit in there and make some flowers bracelets, too, auntie Y/N will teach us", Charles spoke as you walked to the park, a few people noticing him but thankfully not making a big scene out of it.

"I keep thinking about the ice cream parlour, hopefully they gave my favourite", you admitted, kissing his cheek, "but the duckies are a great selling point, too", you winked.

You had been sitting near the benches for a little while, flower chain bracelets already done as Céline started getting hungry, "how about I go get your ice cream and you start on her yogurt?", Charles suggested, kissing the top of your head and tickling the little girl's tummy before heading to the shop.

"That was a big one, baby girl!", you cooed as Céline ate all of the yogurt on the spoon, cleaning the remnants on her lips with the spoon before going back in on the pot when you were interrupted, "I'm sorry, dear", a female voice called.

Turning around, you saw a beautiful older woman, you guessed around her seventies, "this fell from your husband's pocket, and I bet your daughter would miss it soon", she said as she handed you the small stuffed toy Céline loved so much.

"Thank you so much, neither of us noticed and she would have made a fuss if we didn't have it back home", you smiled, "but we're not-", you were interrupted again by Céline's squeal when she saw Charles come back.

"Here's your ice cream, amour", Charles said as the lady smiled, "I was just bringing your daughter's toy back - it slipped from your pocket", she explained, sensing Charles' curiosity about her presence.

"Merci - can you say Merci, Céline?", he tried as the little girl babbled something that resembled the word.

"Enjoy them when they're this young, times truly flies by! You have such a beautiful family", she complimented before waving the three of you goodbye, joining who you presumed was her husband as they walked out of the park hand in hand.

"I tried correcting her but then you showed up", you said, "we are family, though", Charles reasoned, taking a spoonful of your ice-cream, "but I know what you mean. She's not wrong though, we look like a cute little family", he smiled.

"One day", you smiled, "one day, amour, we're going to have a little one of our own to squish a fill with love, won't we Céline? Do you want little cousins to play with?", he said as he took her into his lap, boucing her on his knee as she giggled loudly.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[lolasimms]

let’s say wife!abby and the reader are trying for a baby, how do you think she’d react to the reader being pregnant with twins?

౨ৎ expecting twins with abby ౨ৎ

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, allusions to sex, explicit language.

You were on your third round of IVF, and following two unsuccessful tries you were stoked to find that you were expecting a set of twins. Ahead of the journey, both you and Abby knew that because you were having children through IVF the chances of having multiples was not a rarity.

That didn’t stop Abby from expressing her fear of them however, seeing as you already had your hands full with your first two children. So you decided you’d tell her after work, when the babies were down for the night and the house was in a state of calm, rather than the usual chaos caused by your loud and attention needing four year olds.

౨ৎ

Abby stood next to you while you brushed your teeth, she combed your wet hair for you. Left soft kisses on the back of your neck when you mumbled about how tired you were, trailed behind you out of the bathroom and into the girl’s dimly lit nursery.

Both your daughters snores filling the air, with Abby attached to your back you walked to the foot of their cribs. Sighing happily when she wrapped a loving arm around your waist. Quiet as you looked in awe at your babies,

“They’re so beautiful.” Abby hummed in agreement , reaching a long arm into Lila’s crib to stroke her cheek.

“I know,” she whispered as she repeated it with Céline, “They are the most beautiful princesses.” The two of you stood in silence, bodies swaying in domestic bliss. Abby’s cheek pressed against the side of your head, kissing you a few times while she held you tight. You traced patterns on her strong forearms, wanting to never have this moment end.

“Abby?” you whispered.“Hm?” You brought a hand up to cup her cheek, “What if I told you we’re expecting more?” Abby froze. Voice barely above a whisper as she responded.

“Are you pregnant again?” You nodded your head, her body tingling immediately. She tugged you closer into her arms, peppering kisses all down your neck.

“Yes, and what if I told you we might be having two more princesses?” That’s when her face slowly dropped in worry.

“You’re fucking with me, twins again?,” Abby questioned, moving her head back into the crook of your neck, “We’re having another set of gremlins.”

“I thought they were your little princesses?” You questioned her with a giggle, causing her to lift her head once more, glaring at you as she groaned.

“They are, but they’re a fucking handful. Can barely get enough alone time with you anymore, let alone fuck you whenever I want.”

“We’ll have my parents’ help, your dads help, we can even get a nanny!” You squeeze her cheeks, the pout slowly disappearing from her face.

“I know baby, even though they’re gremlins I’m still excited.” She whispers and that makes you smile.

“My little breeding whore, can’t stop giving me babies can you?” She teases, causing you to gasp at her vulgarity.

“ABBY!” You slap her chest, causing her to give you that playful smirk of hers.

“What, you are my little breeding wh…” You place your index finger against her soft lips before she can complete her sentence.

“We’re going to have four little ears around the house so you better fix your language Anderson.”

“Yes ma’am.”

[nescaveckwriter]

Paintbrushes And Romance 🥰🐞 - Part 7

Dean x Reader

Part 7 🥰🐞

A/N: Can someone hand me a box of tissues please 🥹🥰🐞 Also side note, please comment down below and let me know what you think, if you wanna of course🥰🐞

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Sexual Content, Heartbreak, Kidnapping, Trigger Warnings🙈

.....

Seeing him, listening to the sound of his voice, broke you, I thought I was stronger that this. He is ordering his usual, black coffee. Acting like his presence doesn't bother you, you go on typing away, not that a single damn word is making sense, the tears, threatening to spill over, and give away, "your strong woman" act.

You can feel his eyes burning on you, while he steals a quick glance, you don't want to meet his eyes, so you'll just pretend to be busy, even though the only thing your busy with, is trying not to break down and cry in front of everyone.

I can't, I can't do this shit, you say underneath your breath, you quickly pack everything up, put a few dollars down for the coffee, you notice, you didn't even touch the piece of chocolate mousse cake, Julie gave you! Eversince that day, you haven't had much of an appetite, not even for dessert.

Just waving, while running out the shop, unsure to where you want to go, honestly unsure of what to do with yourself, with your life without him , hell! tell me how did I turn into this person, to the woman who needs a man, not just any man but Dean Winchester! Tears streaming freely now, I've never in my life felt sadness that cuts this deep, leaving my damn heart in a thousand shreds. I should hate him, but oh how I love him.

.....

Showing up at your mom's house, she barely opened the door, when you knocked, you grab ahold of her in a heartbreaking way, sobs into her arms, mom tell me, please how do I let this pain go away, how do I forget about him, how do I move on when my heart is so torn apart, when all I want to do is run into his arms, searching for the comfort I always found there, tell me mom!, you say, tears making your mom's, brightly flowered shirt wet.

Oh honey, taking her fingers, trying to rub the tears away, only time will tell, my sweet girl. Mom, I don't want time to tell, I just want time to be turned back, back to when he loved me, when I was enough to make him happy, I just want him mom, with me, holding me, is that to much to ask for, your voice breaking now, is it mom?, I am not a bad person am I? Can't I just be really happy for once? Don't I deserve it mom?

Oh bug, you are breaking my heart, seeing you like this, I wish I could just bandage your heart together, make everything better, but I can't, not this time, but I'll tell you what, sweetie, let me make us some of that chamomile tea you like so much, then we can just sit and talk, or cry, or be in total silence, just what you need honey. Forming a little smile on your lips, that sounds nice thanks mom, we can talk, but not about this , anything else will do.

Sweet, soft smile coming from your moms lips, okay honey, did you hear about Mrs, Anderson, throwing lemonade, at Mrs Morgan, for stealing some of her flowers....

...

The two of you, spend the afternoon just talking about, light-hearted, topics, and also of course the surprise birthday party for the weekend for your dearest brother, oh how deeply you love him, the two of you are really close, but he is always away on business trips, so you kind of lost touch, but this weekend is all about catching up.

....

Giving your mom, one big heartfelt hug, I'll see you and daddy tonight, for dinner, you say while starting to walk towards the street, where you get into the cab, giving them your address, you need to freshen up for the free art classes you give for the kids at the church, you also need to try and cover up your swollen eyes. Your not much for makeup, you prefer just a little bit of mascara really, but you have a trick or two up your sleeve.

Arriving at your little house, which doesn't really feel the same anymore, it doesn't feel like a home without him, damnit escapes your lips, while throwing your keys on the kitchen countertop.

Just standing in the shower, while the hot water is running down your body, all you can think of, is the way he'd looked this morning, as if something is weighing, heavily on his shoulders, maybe he misses you, the thought enters your mind, you could've sworn your heart just skipped a beat, but you just suppress that little excitement of just maybe he feels the same. Getting out, the shower, grabbing the nearest towel, wrapping it tightly around your body.

Walking to your dresser, opting out for a pair of dark blue jeans, and a plain black t-shirt, with your favourite pair of flat black boots, before closing the dresser, is when you spot it, he's favourite red flannel shirt you stole, to wear whenever you'll just be lounging around the house, taking the shirt, holding it closely to your beating heart, breathing in, the woody musky scent coming, from the shirt holding too much memories.

A little tear escaping and rolling over your cheek. Throwing it back into the closet, like it's the shirt's fault, you turn around to your mirror so that you can put on some makeup and get your hair done, deciding that you'll be going for the loosely braided hair you like so much.

You were just about done, when you hear your phone receiving a message, its from Eileen, "Hey sweetie, how are you doing? Listen you and me, we are going out for a girls night tomorrow, Sam's working late again so it's you and me, painting this town red, okay no excuses.!" A little smile forming across your lips, honestly you don't feel much like going out, but maybe she needs it just as much as you do. Texting her back , yeah hun let's do it , sounds like fun. I'll bring the red paint, with a laughing emoji, and some hugs and kisses you send the message.

Getting out the cab at church, grabbing your art supplies, walking towards the big welcoming doors, you breathe in, let's do this, you put on a big smile, hoping it'll take away the sadness in your eyes.

......

Okay kids that's it for tonight, I'll see you again on Friday, and remember, there is no right or wrong when it comes to art, just let your heart do the talking, each of the kids between the ages of seven and thirteen, comes to give you a hug, before heading out, oh you truly loved every one so much.

Last little girl, named Tiffany to give you a hug, come running up to you , she's 7 and has so much potential of being an artist one day, hugging you, looking you in the eyes with her big brown eyes, asking you when is uncle Dean coming to visit again. You just hug her tightly and say, not sure honey, he is very busy at work, oh okay, she says, I miss him, have to go now... Love you, bye, she goes running off!

Oh that little one, has no idea, what she's done, sitting down, with your hands covering your face trying, to be strong, trying to fight back the heartbreak, from damming up in your eyes, you feel a hand firmly, but softly resting on your shoulder, turning around to see Pastor Cas, hi, Pastor you said trying to hide the pain in your voice.

Are you okay, concern on his face, I will listen if you wanted to talk. Thank you Pastor, but is fine, I'll get better eventually, you say while getting up from your sitting position, gathering all the art supplies, you hear Pastor Cas say, I'm really here if you need to talk, and I know about you and Dean, I found him one night sitting in this same room, I think he came, here quite often when you weren't here, he told me the two of you broke up, I'm sorry to hear that he said empathy in his voice.

Damnit! You said underneath your breath, how can I tell Cas, how much I despise and love his best friend, strangely enough the two of them just connected, Dean started to show up at the art classes you gave, to see you, in your element he said, with that mischievous smile of his!

The kids quickly started to love him, as he would get on all fours and give them little horseback rides, one by one, while you were busy teaching the class, he and Cas would stand outside to talk and laugh. Dean would always tell you, that they're like brothers even though there so different.

I'm really fine you said quickly glancing at him, seeing the concern in his face. You're my friend too, he said. I know, but I'm fine, I really need to go, I have dinner with my parents tonight you said, with a smile barely tugging at your lips. Oh, okay, you should enjoy it he said smiling, coming closer and giving you a little hug.

Enjoy your evening Cas, you said while walking outside, waiting for a cab to pick you up. You could drive yourself, but preferred using the taxi services, one of the reasons being your not very good with directions and of course the other one is, its just much more fun sitting in the back taking in the view, of the places you've seen so many times before, but there's so many details and little miracle's that could be easily taken for granted! Oh very artsy of me, you say to yourself, a smile creeping on your lips!

You wave the taxi down, smiling while getting in, your eyes meeting his, he quickly looks away. Giving him the address, you just sit there in silence, admiring the stars and moon shining so brightly, a big dark cloud, hiding the stars all of the sudden.

You should be at your parents house by now! Looking at the street sign, seeing its he's going the wrong way.

Excuse me sir, you tap him on the shoulder, your going the wrong way, he turns to face you, his eyes as cold as breeze seeping through the window.

Sit back in your seat missy, I'm going the right way, his voice, sounding kind of raspy and mocking. So you adjust back in the seat, taking out your phone, knowing something is wrong you start typing away, the look he gives you in the mirror sends chills down your spine. It's him, the serial killer - Dean's been hunting.

Swallowing away the tightness in your chest, your fingers typing the words , "its the serial killer" before you could type, I love you mom, the car comes to a stop.

Breathing heavily you know its now or never, still holding you cell in your hand, you see him walking to the side of your door, turning slightly in your seat, your feet pointing at the door, he pulls it open, give me your damn phone he angrily says. That's when you gave it your all, you kicked him with both feet, and while he stuttering backwards, you turn around on your hands and feet, quickly crawling to the other side of the seat so that you can get away, your hand touching the door handle, almost there, biting your lip, ahhhhh! A scream escapes your lips, his pulling you out of the car by your ankles, trying to grab onto everything you can find, but there's nothing.

You feel the dirt and rocks underneath your arms, scraping the skin, trying to find a way of getting away from his tight grip, stil squirming he grabs your hair, that's when you feel it, a pinch, almost mosquito bite like, into your neck, night, night, you little shit, you hear his voice, sounding very pleased with himself.

You can feel it starting to take affect, did I send the text, you wondered, tears staining your face, the darkness came over you despite the moon shining so brightly.

[ac3may]

“Stop beating around the bush!” ~ Rachel Daly x Reader

Was in a Daly mood and wrote a little something, requests are sparking lots of ideas so keep them coming!💙

Prompt: "Stop beating around the bush!"

Words: 2.1k

Masterlist

Getting your first England senior team call up you had never been more excited! You thought that it was a feeling that would fade, but the pride you feel to be one of the lucky ones selected only ever increases, even after eight years. 

Arrival day at camp had to be one of your favourite moments, the anticipation of seeing everyone again. Hanging out like kids at summer camp never got old especially when your two best friends were scheduled to join you! 

After your contract ran out the previous summer, your show-stopping performance in the Euros had clubs across the globe, but specifically in Europe, fighting for you. Eventually, Barcelona won out and you relocated to Spanish soil for the foreseeable future. What you hadn’t accounted for was one of your closest friends making her return from the USA the same month you moved.

You, Millie, and Rachel had been a trio for as long as many people remember. Ever since you made your respective debuts in 2016 you’ve all been attached at the hip. Just the best of friends right?

Wrong. They were your best friends and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

But you have been in love with Rachel since the moment you walked into your hotel room on your first camp to find her belting Céline Dion at the top of her lungs. You hadn’t ever admitted your more-than-platonic feelings to the girl herself, but your Chelsea counterpart was certainly aware. Millie had been the person to hold you tight after a couple too many drinks had you sobbing on the bathroom floor, wailing about why Rachel didn’t love you.

No matter how much you pretended that night didn’t happen Millie has never let go of what she heard. Sly looks, subtle nudges and occasional desperate begging all a part of her attempts to get you to admit your feelings. 

Despite Covid having taken away your tradition of rooming with Rachel each England camp one that continued strong was the movie night the two of you exclusively shared every first night. 

A knock at the door indicates your best friend's arrival. Shaking your head from your Daly-consuming thoughts you compose yourself with a breath before opening it wide. The way Rachel saunters in so casually you could assume she lived there too. Greeting you with a smile, “sorry! I would’ve been here sooner but I couldn’t get Tooney to stop nattering!” She announces kicking off her sliders before gracefully belly-flopping onto the king-sized bed. 

“I bet!” You say chuckling at the thought, perching on the edge of the mattress, “I was looking through Netflix and I couldn’t find anything good, I was thinking maybe Disney?”

Nodding in absent-minded agreement, still lying belly down, Rachel turns to you over her shoulder, “what are you doing all the way over there?” She asks sulkily, a grin breaking out on your face as she reaches out to you. Wrapping her fingers around your wrist she pulls you forcefully face-down into the duvet, the abrupt movement shocking you briefly before you’re both rolling about in fits of laughter. 

“Stop it! Stop it!” Rachel’s squeals are accompanied by her hands pushing at yours as she fights to stop you from tickling her. With a final giggle, you finally ease your movements watching enamoured as Rachel’s body relaxes and she drops onto your pillows less than elegantly, panting out breaths. 

Relaxing against the headboard, shoulder to shoulder with the Aston Villa player you huff with frustration. “Come on Rach! Pick something already!” You insist, eyes trained on the page of movies she’d been scrolling through for the past ten minutes. 

With an exasperated sigh, she throws her hands in the air dramatically, “I can’t decide!” She declares, “you choose!” Despite rolling your eyes at the antics you’re quick to snatch your laptop back from her, immediately scrolling to the animated movie section. 

“Let’s do a classic,” you decide, cursor moving across the thumbnails of the Walt Disney animated movies. “Okay…” you hum gently as your eyes settle, “Beauty and the Beast? Tarzan? Orrrrrr, Tangled?” 

Turning your head to look at Rachel she chooses the same moment to move her gaze from the screen to you. You freeze. Your faces are so close you can feel the light tickles of her breath against your skin, you can’t bring yourself to pull away as you analyse her bright blue irises, somehow missing the way her eyes flicker across your face and land on your lips.

Clearing your throat harshly you manage to break the moment, ignoring it entirely as you raise your eyebrows to question her film choice. Shaking her head, the blonde directs her attention solely to the screen between you two, “Tangled,” she mutters with a decisive nod of her head. Nodding yours in return, confused by her unusual cold attitude, you press play.

Shifting your body again you try and find a comfortable position, a task which is becoming increasingly difficult as Rachel is very intentionally avoiding all physical contact. Usually, she’s begging to cuddle up for film nights and is always dragging you to squash together on the sofa or share a beanbag. You can help but wonder what you had done to cause the sudden shift, had you been too obvious?

“Can you stop squirming?” The mutter lacks the playful infliction you’re used to and you freeze immediately, unsure of how to tackle your next move. 

You eventually huff out, “sorry," with a roll of your eyes, giving up on watching the princess and criminal duo, rolling onto your back and picking up your phone instead. After five or so minutes of tension-filled silence, Rachel finally resolves to flick her eyes from where they’d been locked on the screen to glance at you. The disappointment which floods her at your clear lack of interest in the tradition is indescribable.  

Unable to manage the fear, confusion and upset whirling within her Rachel channels them all into annoyance, snapping at you abruptly, “you chose this film you know!” She reminds.

“Like you even care!” With a side-eye glance at her you can’t help the impulsive response that escapes you, finally fed up with her sudden mood change. 

“What does that mean?” Rachel is hesitant but with her hothead winning out she can’t help but get defensive, sitting up from her lounging position to confront you properly.

“You’ve been in a mood with me since the minute I touched the laptop! You’re the one who told me to pick a film! I thought Tangled was your favourite?!” All your frustrations release at that moment as you slam your phone into the bedsheets and push into a sitting position, turning to face her too. 

Seemingly taken back the blonde can’t even hold eye contact with you as she mutters, “it- it is!” She’s surprised and flattered you’d remembered such a mundane thing. Seeing the way she’d obviously made you question yourself guilt consumed her. She’d been so distracted trying to protect herself she had lacked any and all consideration for you. 

“Come on Rach!” Unimpressed at the minimal response and more desperate than ever to find out the cause of your best friend's troubles, you yell. “Stop beating around the bush! Just tell me what’s going on already!”

Watching the way her fingers pick at the skin around her nails nervously your eyes immediately soften. Reaching out you gently entwine her digits with yours, adding a whispered, “please,” to the end of your outburst.

Finally allowing herself to meet your eyes for the first time since the movie began you’re given an exclusive look at the fear swimming in them. You desperately want to bundle the woman into your arms and protect her from everything. But determined to avoid anything which will close her off again you simply squeeze her hand with an encouraging nod. “It’s- I, I don’t want to make it weird.” Her words are barely a whisper, a harsh contrast to the loud voices you’d been exchanging previously. 

You smile at her gently, “Rach we’re besties remember? It’s been eight years! If you haven’t scared me off yet I doubt this will.” You can’t help the nervous chuckle that escapes at the words, despite wanting to ease her mind you’re concerned with what would possibly be serious enough for this much hesitancy. 

Rachel nods to herself in some form of self-support before dropping eye contact and whispering a sentence which is completely inaudible to you. Squinting as if it would help you hear you ask, “what?” She speaks a little louder the second time but it’s still too much of a mumble to be understood. “I can’t hear you, Rach,” you stroke your thumb lightly across the back of her hand, still in yours. 

 With a roll of eyes and obvious frustration, the abrupt blurting of words shocks you as she repeats herself a third time.

“I LOVE YOU!”

It's like you’re brain malfunctions at the words, your tongue tripping as you stumble over any possible response until finally, you manage to compose yourself enough for a single word. “What?” 

Your eyes are wide and you practically forget Rachel is in the room, you drop her hands and instead move to pinch your own arm, convinced this is some kind of fantasy. “I told you it would make things weird!” 

Immediately you’re snapped back to reality, the distress in Rachel’s voice feeling too much for you to bare but when you meet her eyes again and see the tears brimming your heart truly breaks and you’re aching to reassure her. “No, no, no Rach! Not at all!” You grab at her hand, holding tightly, “I love you too!” You declare joyfully, the words bursting from you, “I have for years.”  Your final admittance is vulnerable and has Rachel meeting your eyes again. 

“Huh?” Her confusion is evident, “you didn’t say anything!” She accuses, there’s disbelief but no anger in her words. You can’t help the broad grin which has been permanently on your face since her announcement. 

“You didn’t either!” Laughter joins your words.

“I didn’t know!” She declares, pointing a heavy finger into your chest accusatorially causing you to wince with a chuckle. “That’s why I was late, it wasn’t Ella, I told Millie that over Christmas I admitted to myself I liked you and she was trying to convince me to tell you.”

“Of course, she was,” you roll your eyes, “explains why she wasn’t begging to join movie night for once though!” You laugh, Rachel joins you in laughter as you register the rest of her words.

Breaking the melodic sounds abruptly, “Hey! You better more than like me Daly! I haven’t pined after you for years to just be a mindless crush!” The obvious teasing in your tone has Rachel reciprocating your energy as she rolls her eyes. 

“I can’t believe you thought you could accuse me of not saying when you’ve been hiding it so much longer! I didn’t realise how lovable I was!” She teases, fanning herself with her hand in feign-flattery. 

Swatting her lightly, ever the competitive pair, your response is immediate, “well at least we know who makes the better actress! You were falling all over yourself the moment were within inches of each other!” Rachel simply shakes her head at you, an adoring smile settling on her face. With the reality of the situation finally hitting you you’re able to analyse exactly why Rachel had been acting the way she had all night, it was her defences rising due to the fear of being hurt. 

“How close were we?” Rachel asks, acting innocent but you could sense the ulterior motive. 

Choosing to play her game you hum lightly in response, leaving an obvious gap between you. “I don’t remember, how about you show me?”

Watching her smile morph into a smirk you feel as though your heart physically grows within your chest, all the positive emotions swirling inside desperate to burst. Shifting her weight Rachel kneels on the bed, leaning closer to you, nerves evident in her heavy breaths. “About her-”

Lacking the patience for her slow movements the blonde never finishes her sentence as you crash your lips together. Hers warm and soft. After all these years the moment was everything you had dreamed it to be and more. 

Pulling back mere centimetres was too much, soft breath tickling beneath your nose as you admired each other. Your hands settle on her hips, and pulling her closer she decides to place a knee on either side of your body, straddling you.

You gasp as she settles on your lap, eyes falling closed briefly. You hear the defender’s giggle and then her lips are enclosing over yours again. Sparks ignited in the both of you the kiss becoming heavier as you grew in confidence. A hand reaches up to tangle in your hair, one of yours reaching to cup her face tentatively. 

So absorbed in each other neither of you notice when the heavy wood of the hotel door opens, it's only when the loud northern voice of your best friend makes itself know that your bubble bursts, “Finally! I was beginning to think I’d be stuck in the middle of your pining forever!”

[originalaccountname]

nawy you're out here taking one for the team with what you said about odazai (I agree and have gotten myself into situations that would put the "impropriety" of this to shame)

Starting off by saying I have some relationship horror stories I could tell (I will not). I am VERY aware of the potential dangers. Notable age gap relationships with teenagers are not something I would encourage at all (and if I can tell all of you one thing, it's to never let yourself be isolated from your safe circles by a partner. keep yourself safe.)

But I know a couple who started dating at 16 and 20 respectively. Years later, they are both adults with a kid. I have a friend whose parents are 10 years apart in age, and another friend whose mother started dating a guy who could almost be her son, with something like a ~20 years age gap. They currently are raising a kid together.

And just for a last kick: you know Céline Dion? the singer? My Heart Will Go On? Her. She fell in love with her manager at 16. He was 26 years older than her. She met him when she was 12. She made a move on him at 20. They married when she was 26 and were married for 22 years, until his death, and had 3 children together. Céline Dion still talks about him as her one and only.

But most importantly... Dazai and Oda are characters. They're fake people. Dolls. They only do what you make them do. You control their feelings and intentions. Not only is their age gap only 4 years and with time, that gap would come to be meaningless, but YOU decide if/when they act on it, if they are conflicted, if it's one-sided, etc. Others shipping them are doing the same. Fiction is an exploration. Not an argument for validity.

Sometimes people meet and the relationship changes over time. Sometimes someone has a crush on someone they shouldn't. Sometimes someone develops feelings that go unrequited. Sometimes relationships have concerning but ultimately fine age gaps.

You don't have to ship it, like it, or want to see it. You can have personal reasons to hate it, it can squick you for no real reason, or you can have an OTP that makes you dislike other pairings. You don't even have to tolerate the ship: block it, filter it, close your eyes and scroll by, whatever. Like with any other ship you don't want to see!

click here for tumblr's documentation on how to filter text and tags

Life is full of weird things. Fictional characters having a slightly eyebrow-raising age gap upon their first meeting for an ~eventual~ romantic relationship is nothing.

[ofwhimsicaldreams]

some thoughts on the opening ceremony now that i slept on it:

it was slightly too long, and there were moments that were really meant as fillers. not good.

i hope none of the athletes will catch a cold, with all the rain that poured down on paris yesterday...

gojira was the best musical segment <3 it was so cool!! and i am so happy to see the french metal scene being represented like that, considering how thriving it is.

the drag queens were the worst part by far. terribly vulgar (but that's part of the requirements), sexual, and "dancing" (if it can be called like that) nearby children. i don't know who at the cojo thought it would be a good idea to have them onboard but they were terribly wrong. so bad.

the masked flamme-bearer was terribly cool though. the parkour through paris! that was so nice.

most of the musical segments left me pretty cold tbh, but there is a reason why i don't like to french music (which is that i don't like what's offered, apart from the punk/metal scene).

the french cancan was ridiculous, and, worst, out of rhythm. cringe.

you know what else was cringe? the throuple. boring, too.

it was nice to see the focus on notre-dame and the artisans of haute couture (even though it did feel a bit like an ad for lvmh, but as they're sponsoring...)

i didn't care for most of the (break)dancing either, but w/e

the minions were a choice, but then again, w/e

very nice to have opera singers!!! especially the one who sang la marseillaise wrapped in the national flag. that was utterly cool. loved it. (came second in my personal ranking, after gojira)

the ride on the metal horse on la seine was so metal (ahah) cool too. with the archives images of the previous olympics, it was really nice. it was as if a ride through time, as the personification of the olympic games. very cool. i've seen people on twitter saying it was the four horsemen of the apocalypse, which is one way of seeing things, but with the commentary on the france tv direct, i didn't see it at all. nevermind.

tony estanguet gave a very nice speech.

the final relay of the flamme between all the french athletes was so cool!!! i was a bit emotional by then, especially when they light up the vasque. lovely moment. that felt more dedicated to france than some of the "tableaux" of earlier that were more about clichés (the french cancan for example) or to "provoke" (the drag queens. seriously. why???)

céline dion being able to sing was a very nice touch. more moving for her than for me (covering edith piaf on the eiffel tower, like, honestly, cliché... again) but it's a sign her treatment is working, which is a very good thing for the people suffering from the same illness as she is. very nice.

la vasque being in a hot air balloon for the whole duration of the games is a pretty nice touch too.

overall it was better than i thought it would be, but there were some very cringe moments anyway. too much focus on the clichés associated to paris/la france overall as well.

[frozen-orbit]

My favorite lyrics from my Renegades playlists that i associate with Nodrian:

"Did you ever love me? Does it even matter?" - Say Goodbye, Katharine McPhee

"If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?" - Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

"I’ll always be on your side, promise you." - Promise, Everglow

"Late night, watching television. But how'd we get in this position?" - I really like you, Carly Rae Jepsen

"Maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me." - Wonderwall, Oasis

"Paint my kiss across your chest. If you're the art, I'll be the brush." - Bad Liar, Selena Gómez

"We had trust, belief and friendship. Maybe something more, maybe something less." - Vengeance, coldrain

"Whether we’re together or apart, we can both remove the masks and admit we regret it from the start." - Over again, One Direction

"Why don't we save each other? Even though we couldn't save anything, let alone the world." - Howl, Chuu

From Nova's pov:

"An evening star watched from afar. It guided me here. It knew you'd be here." - I knew I loved you, Céline Dion

"Dream that makes me want to fall asleep again, such a sweet dream, that’s you." - Dream, Suzy feat. Baekhyun

"For the way you're something that I'd never choose, but at the same time, something I don't wanna lose." - Never knew I needed, Ne-Yo feat. Cassandra Steen

"I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown." - arms, Christina Perri

"I don't know who's gonna kiss you when I'm gone, so I'm gonna love you now like it's all I have. I know it'll kill me when it's over, I don't wanna think about it." - Love me now, John Legend

"If I kept you away from me, if I failed you and I left, it was because my lies scared me. You believed in me and I became so good at pretending." - Perdón, Camila

"I'll follow into the painting you create." - Lucid, LOOΠ∆ Odd Eye Circle

"I made you a promise with no way to keep it, but what kills me the most, I'd still do anything for you." - The Breaker, Little Big Town

"I'm on my guard for the rest of the world, but with you, I know it's no good." - Sparks fly, Taylor Swift

"I'm scared that I'll love you. I'm scared that I'll need you. I'm scared that I'll always want you close." - Something 4 U, Sam Addeo feat. Biyo

"I shot the stars out of your sky, took the love right from your eyes, and I did it all knowing you thought I was the hero of your heart." - The Breaker, Little Big Town

"I was used to being alone, my days were gray, but I remember the day you lightly came to me, knocking on my door. You shined on me like a light, woke me up from darkness, opened the closed door of my heart." - Starlight, Taeyeon feat. DEAN

"My mind forgets to remind me you're a bad idea." - Sparks fly, Taylor Swift

"Oh my God, I can't believe it. Out of all the people in the world, what is the likelihood of jumping out of my life and into your arms? Maybe, baby, I'm just losing my mind, 'cause this is trouble but it feels right. Teetering on the edge of Heaven and Hell is a battle that I cannot fight." - Oh My God, Adele

"She's the death you chose. You're in terrible danger." - The Albatross, Taylor Swift

"Some say she's such a fake, that her love is made up. No, no, no, no." - Girl Almighty, One Direction

"Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep, are you ever dreaming of me?" - Delicate, Taylor Swift

"The coat of paint that you had drawn on me will wash away." - Stop the rain, Day6

"The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me. Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" - peace, Taylor Swift

"The devil that you know looks now more like an angel. I'm the life you chose and all this terrible danger." - The Albatross, Taylor Swift

"The more you become precious to me, the more afraid I am." - Eclipse, Got7

"There's nothing to pretend, I fell in love with you." - Me enamoré de ti, Chayanne

"The world I lived in has flipped over inside out because of you, right is left, left is right." - Sweet Chaos, Day6

"They tried to warn you about me." - The Albatross, Taylor Swift

"This ain't for the best. My reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me." - Delicate, Taylor Swift

"Through the lies, you were the truth. My world is a better place because of you." - Because of you, Céline Dion

"When I look at you, I see forgiveness, I see the truth. You love me for who I am." - When I look at you, Miley Cyrus

"Wish I could tell you I still feel the same. I want you to know that it was never in vain. And that's the last thing that you'll hear me say." - Hear me say, Jonas Blue

"Wish that I would let you break my walls, but I'm still spinning out of control from the fall." - Oh My God, Adele

"You are the sunlight that rose again in my life, a reincarnation of my childhood dreams. I don't know what these emotions are. Am I still dreaming?" - Euphoria, BTS

From Adrian's pov:

"And you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones." - my tears ricochet, Taylor Swift

"Even if time fades my paint, I will protect your dreamworld, I’ve never left." - Action figure, WayV

"I can save you and treat you preciously, and if you want I can ride a spaceship cross the night sky, pick the stars and place them in your hands." - Jasmine, DPR Live

"I closed my eyes to this evil. You hid your true colors until now." - Gunshot, K.A.R.D

"I could paint your beauty. That's if you just let me." - Jasmine, DPR Live

"I'd like to be a superhero and protect you against evil, gift you the Milky Way in a cereal bowl, take you to outer space and fly like Superman does." - Espacio sideral, Jesse & Joy

"I don't care how deep in the darkness you may be, I'll find my way to you, if you just wait for me." - Star maker, AmaLee

"I don't know what road you're gonna take this time, but let it be mine." - Let it be mine, Brett Young

"I draw your appearance every night without anyone knowing." - Why, Hwasa

"I guess it's still hard if the seed's sown, but do you really want to be alone?" - Over again, One Direction

"I insisted we begin at the start to turn us back into a work of art." - Oxford Blood, Autoheart

"I know you’re worried, you hide behind your walls. Oh trust me, little darlin’, you can let ‘em fall." - All the ways, The Secret Sisters feat. Ray LaMontagne

"I'll give you everything I can, I'll build your dreams with these two hands." - I swear, All-4-One

"I make art, but you're the masterpiece." - With You, SuperM

"I may be an ordinary guy with heart and soul, but if you're the one for me, then I'll be your hero." - Hero, Starstruck

"I start painting you and I don't pull it off. After slowly studying you, I end up thinking that over my palette I lack of intense colors that reflect your rare beauty." - Sólo pienso en ti, Miguel Bosé

"I want to draw you in the wide sky, name it after the stars." - ANL, NCT Dream

"I want to protect you who's sleeping next to me in this night." - Same dream, same night, same mind, Seventeen

"Like that star that stars in the night sky, tell me your mysterious story." - TokTok, GWSN

"Lips burrow so deep, give me good sleep." - You belong to me, Cat Pierce

"On the sketchbook of my brain, I draw you out every day." - Oh my!, Seventeen

"Put you in jail for something you didn't do. I pinned your hands behind your back. Thought I had reason to attack, but no." - Afterglow, Taylor Swift

"Stupid me still draws you in the air. A star called you shines in the pitch dark room." - HaPpY, Stray Kids

"We fight and you bait me. You feel so defiant. You used to save me but now I'm just frightened." - Keep dreaming, Neffex

"You don’t exist in front of me right now, I know that for sure, but I’m going to interrogate you. Your lips know the answer that I want." - Sherlock, Shinee

"You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same." - my tears ricochet, Taylor Swift

"You’re like a dream, so secretive, more than the entire universe." - Falling, Lim Kim

"You're the one I always dream of. Ev'ry line of your face is sketched so plain inside my heart." - You're the one, Carpenters

"You tried hiding another you but your evil was coming through." - Ghost, Ella Henderson

"You've got the most unbelievable blue eyes I've ever seen." - I love you always forever, Donna Lewis

[angelosearch]

Overthinking "Eyes on Me" and it's 3 AM and here is my crackpot theory with cited sources:

In an interview with Nobuo Uematsu, Final Fantasy VIII’s composer, in the 2005 Ultimania Omega, Uematsu says Celine Dion was considered for the Final Fantasy VIII theme, “Eyes on Me” (GameFAQs). This fact has been rolling around in my head since I learned it a few weeks ago. I started to listening to “Eyes on Me” with fresh ears. Sure, I thought, I could imagine Celine Dion singing this. It would be great.

Tonight, I was listening to Celine Dion (to be completely transparent, stoned) and “Eyes on Me” doesn’t just sound like something Celine would sing. It is a Celine song. Sonically, it sounds a lot like “My Heart Will go On” (1997) – especially the opening of both songs. Listen to them back-to-back.

Also similar in sound is “Beauty and the Beast” (1991).

I wish I knew more about music theory to explain what else sounds similar about these songs. But anyway.

It’s not just that these songs are sonically similar to “Eyes on Me.” The vibe is the same. The love stories, especially the ones told on her “most critically and commercially successful album” Falling Into You (1996), have the same intensity and drama as Squall and Rinoa’s love story (Wikipedia).

And isn’t that what Final Fantasy VIII (1999) is all about, an epic love story? Look at the logo. It’s literally Squall and Rinoa holding each other. The other Final Fantasy logos are not like that.

Celine is at the top of her career in the mid-to-late 90s. She is internationally known as the “Queen of the Power Ballad” (MTV). She tours in Japan in 1998 on her “Let’s Talk about Love” tour (that’s the album my “My Heart Will Go On” is on) and her tickets sell out in a day (Wikipedia).

And this videogame, where the love story is the focus, has the special opportunity of being the first Final Fantasy with a full-length live-recorded vocal track, something Squaresoft had been wanting to do for years (finalfantasy.fandom.com). This is a moment that needs to blow people’s mind.

Celine Dion would be the perfect choice for this song, from a marketing perspective. I believe she was a strong contender for the performance, and, honestly, I think they tried to get her but couldn’t.

Why do I believe they shot their shot with her and failed? Okay, this is where I go full conspiracy theory.

Because the song was such an integral part of the game, the developers wanted Julia to share similarities with the actual singer of the song. This is why, in the final game, Julia was animated to look like Faye Wong (finalfantasy.fandom.com).

But it turns out Julia has some things in common with Celine Dion. Celine started her career singing in a piano bar. Like Julia, she became an instant success with her public debut. Celine first got famous singing in French, and while I know she is French-Canadian, I find it interesting that Galbadia has a lot of French symbolism. Deling City, where Julia performs, has the Arc de Triomphe after all (finalfantasy.fandom.com).

Those are the strongest comparisons. But also, for your consideration:

The first song that she recorded ("Ce n'était qu'un rêve" which translates as "It Was Only a Dream" or "Nothing But A Dream" – also Final Fantasy VIIIish title) was sent to René Angélil who first became her manager, and, later, her lover. He was 26 years her senior. To me, this has a lot of tonal similarities to Julia/Carraway’s relationship.

Does anyone else think this red cut-out Versace gown at the American Music Awards in 1993 kinda looks like Julia’s dress? Even if not, look through Celine Dion’s outfits from the 90s. This is the kind of thing she would have worn, and also red seems to be her color (BAZAAR).

Final Fantasy VIII also SEEMS like it was heavily influenced by “My Heart Will Go On” and/or Titanic in general. I think there’s a reason there are dozens of “My Heart Will Go On” Final Fantasy VIII AMVs on YouTube – The song fits the game perfectly. Have you SEEN the official music video for this song? I don’t know, I see lots of parallels.  

Some of the most romantic scenes in Final Fantasy VIII either take place on a balcony or in view of the ocean, just like in Titanic. Titanic has a dance scene too, though I cannot speak to how similar these are. This seems too outlandish to be relevant but I am going to throw it out there: River Phoenix, who Squall’s facial features were based on (Wikipedia), was considered for the role of Jack in Titanic (IMDb). Maybe the developers wanted a “Jack” of their own.

And DO NOT GET ME STARTED on the Final Fantasy VIII/Beauty and the Beast parallels. I’m just going to link to these gif sets: [x] [x]

And then in FREAKING 2007 Celine Dion comes out with, GET THIS, “Eyes on Me.” But it’s a completely different song. So if you Google “Celine Dion Eyes on Me,” you can’t find anything about them considering Celine for the videogame theme under all the other search results. CELINE WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?!

So here is my stupid conspiracy: I think the game was written, at least in part, as a love letter to Celine Dion in an attempt to do anything to get her to sing for them. I am pretty sure videogames did not have big artists featured at the time, and she was literally the artist of that moment. It would not be easy to convince her to work with them, so they put in Celine easter eggs to try and get her to agree. Because imagine how much bigger Final Fantasy VIII could have been if they could say Celine Dion was attached to it? Hell, I am pretty sure my mom would have played it if that was the case.

I know that the story is that they went through CDs and Faye Wong was the top choice—and don’t get me wrong, she did a great job, and she still made the song super famous—But I just think this is A LOT OF PARALELLS to just ignore.

All I am saying is, what the fuck is Final Fantasy VIII about if not “The Power of Love”?

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[light-wayland]

There ain't no way you make me give you a ranked list of Circle members and get away with not making your own. C'mon, tell me! Who're your most and least favourite of the circle gang?

naive of you to assume i wasn’t going to send you one anyway. i think i like all circle members, only the top 3 are definitive, everything after depends on the mood so i won't even number

Robert Lightwood. he's only my all time favorite character and i think about him every minute of my existence since i've read The Evil We Love all those years ago. nothing special

Michael Wayland. this adorable little man crawled into the grossest deeps of robert's grumpy cold heart and said "There's nothing wrong with you, Robert." and got his heart broken horribly. in the process turned waywood into my all time favorite ship and changed my life. thanks man

Maryse Lightwood. gaslight gatekeep girlboss? except that she was the gaslighted one i think... anyway, she put up with robert for 24 freaking years, and post-michael robert was so annoying. mother. but also literally badass mom. i wish we understood her better.

Luke Garroway. it's giving father figure and can be shipped with several people. at the same time he's an asshole who doesn’t aknowledge his own assholery and that gives him depth because it's more realistic than let's say robert who thinks everything he does is a unexcusable mistake

Valentine Morgenstern. [redacted] but what he and luke have going is kinda hot not gonna lie

Stephen Herondale. my lightwood loving bias would usually stop me from touching a golden annoying mf even with a ten foot pole but this one can and will be poked with a sharp ten foot pole because like maryse he is somehow nasty enough to put up with robert's grumpy face and he's also a huge loser

Jocelyn Fairchild. luke's female half but with not page time enough to be cool. i think a problem is that her character on page doesn’t live up to what's built around her, even less than luke, and that makes her underwhelming, but i'm her apologist when it comes to her decisions as a mother, i will choose her over her biological son anytime

Hodge Starkweather. deserves better. he was stuck in the same house with robert and maryse for 15 years. that's punishment enough if we're being real

Céline Montclaire. i understand why some readers love her. she's kind but has a selfish side, which makes her human. on practice she's too nice to me, and not nasty enough to put up with robert

Amatis Graymark. i genuinely like her and stephen as a couple i just don't care much about her individually, which is a shame because her story is interesting. i guess she has a similar problem as jocelyn

i think all circle members are interesting characters so in my head they're awesome. i hope this list satisfies you

[lovesongbracket]

Reminder: Vote based on the song, not the artist or specific recording! The tracks referenced are the original artist, aside from a few rare cases where a cover is the most widely known.

Lyrics, videos, info, and notable covers under the cut. (Spotify playlist available in pinned post)

Hopelessly Devoted to You

Written By: John Farrar

Artist: Olivia Newton-John for Grease

Released: 1978

“Hopelessly Devoted To You” written by John Farrar appears on the soundtrack for the 1978 movie, Grease. Originally performed by Olivia Newton-John in the film version of the play, the song was nominated for an Oscar as Best Original Song in 1979. In this song, Sandy sings of her feelings for Danny and how she’s waiting for him to notice her.

[Verse 1] Guess mine is not the first heart broken My eyes are not the first to cry I'm not the first to know There's just no getting over you You know, I'm just a fool who's willing To sit around and wait for you But baby, can't you see There's nothing else for me to do? I'm hopelessly devoted to you [Chorus] But now there's nowhere to hide Since you pushed my love aside I'm out of my head Hopelessly devoted to you Hopelessly devoted to you Hopelessly devoted to you [Verse 2] My head is saying, "Fool, forget him" My heart is saying, "Don't let go Hold on 'til the end" And that's what I intend to do I'm hopelessly devoted to you [Chorus] But now there's nowhere to hide Since you pushed my love aside I'm out of my head Hopelessly devoted to you Hopelessly devoted to you Hopelessly devoted to you

It's All Coming Back to Me Now

Written By: Jim Steinman

Artist: Céline Dion

Released: 1996

Originally recorded by: Pandora's Box, 1989

“It’s All Coming Back to Me Now,” originally written by Jim Steinman, was first recorded in 1989 by girl group Pandora’s Box, who featured it on Original Sin, their first and only album. In an interview, Steinman explains that he was attempting to write “the most passionate, romantic song [he] could ever write.” On the song’s meaning, he says: “It was about the dark side of love and about the extraordinary ability to be resurrected by it once dead. It’s about obsession, and that can be scary because you’re not in control and you don’t know where it’s going to stop. It says that, at any point in somebody’s life, when they loved somebody strongly enough and that person returns, a certain touch, a certain physical gesture can turn them from being defiant and disgusted with this person to being subservient again.” “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” was popularized by Céline Dion in 1996; it made the US Billboard Hot 100 Chart in August of that year, peaking at #2 on October 26.

[Verse 1] There were nights when the wind was so cold That my body froze in bed if I just listened to it Right outside the window There were days when the sun was so cruel That all the tears turned to dust And I just knew my eyes were drying up forever (Forever) I finished crying in the instant that you left And I can't remember where or when or how And I banished every memory you and I had ever made [Chorus 1] But when you touch me like this And you hold me like that I just have to admit That it's all coming back to me When I touch you like this And I hold you like that It's so hard to believe But it's all coming back to me (It's all coming back, it's all coming back to me now) [Verse 2] There were moments of gold And there were flashes of light There were things I'd never do again But then they'd always seemed right There were nights of endless pleasure It was more than any laws allow Baby, baby [Chorus 2] If I kiss you like this And if you whisper like that It was lost long ago But it's all coming back to me If you want me like this And if you need me like that It was dead long ago But it's all coming back to me It's so hard to resist And it's all coming back to me I can barely recall But it's all coming back to me now But it's all coming back [Verse 3] There were those empty threats and hollow lies And whenever you tried to hurt me I just hurt you even worse, and so much deeper There were hours that just went on for days When alone at last we'd count up all the chances That were lost to us forever (Forever) But you were history with the slamming of the door And I made myself so strong again somehow And I never wasted any of my time on you since then [Chorus 3] But if I touch you like this And if you kiss me like that It was so long ago But it's all coming back to me If you touch me like this And if I kiss you like that It was gone with the wind But it's all coming back to me (It's all coming back, it's all coming back to me now) [Verse 4] There were moments of gold And there were flashes of light There were things we'd never do again But then they'd always seemed right There were nights of endless pleasure It was more than all your laws allow Baby, baby, baby [Chorus 4] When you touch me like this And when you hold me like that It was gone with the wind But it's all coming back to me When you see me like this And when I see you like that Then we see what we want to see All coming back to me The flesh and the fantasies All coming back to me I can barely recall But it's all coming back to me now [Chorus 5] If you forgive me all this If I forgive you all that We forgive and forget And it's all coming back to me When you see me like this And when I see you like that We see just what we want to see All coming back to me The flesh and the fantasies All coming back to me I can barely recall, but it's all coming back to me now [Outro] (It's all coming back to me now) And when you kiss me like this (It's all coming back to me now) And when I touch you like that (It's all coming back to me now) And if you do it like this (It's all coming back to me now) And if we

[joannanora]

First review I’ve seen in Norwegian so I copied the text in Google translate 😄

You really have to love Céline Dion to put up with this trash.

IN THEATER MAY 12, 2023: I have absolutely nothing against romantic comedies, as long as they are genuinely fresh, sweet and funny.

"Love Again" is neither, but leans on tired clichés, chemistry-less leads and a silly story that will cause frequent rolling of the eyes.

In addition, it cultivates Céline Dion, the Canadian superstar who both plays herself and is one of the film's producers. If you are one of Dion's followers, and are deeply moved by her songs and lyrics, it can be thought that "Love Again" has its mission, because it is shaped by the same reading.

If, on the other hand, you find her music intolerable, this will feel like torture, because the film is like a Greatest Hits cavalcade of it. She even mentions the Eurovision Song Contest, which she won for Switzerland in 1988, which perhaps explains the film's strategic release date the day before this year's final?

"Love Again" has no ironic distance from either the genre or the music, and maintains such a low quality that it is difficult to see what this has to do with cinema. You really have to love Céline Dion to put up with this moth.

Sending text messages to deceased boyfriend

The premise of the story could have been used for something halfway interesting. The children's book author Mira (Priyanka Chopra Jonas) witnesses the death of her boyfriend John on the streets of New York - in a scene with a comically bad presentation of the shock.

Two years later, she starts texting him in an attempt to process her grief and loss. Little does she know that everything is being read by music journalist Rob (Sam Heughan), who has unknowingly taken over John's old number on his new work phone at The New York Chronicle newspaper.

He does not respond to these messages, but becomes obsessed with finding out who the mysterious sender really is. But he doesn't think to look up the number or call it from another phone. Not much for a journalist, that is.

That their paths nevertheless cross is hardly a revelation, but he remains silent about having received and read the messages, which according to the recipe creates the conditions for a small twist in the thread.

At the same time, he has been tasked with writing a large article about Céline Dion, who will embark on her first US tour in 10 years. And then, incredibly, it will turn out that she would much rather help the journalist with his private love life than promote herself, which seriously lowers the film's credibility into the deepest abyss.

Stiff-legged romance and predictable complications

The best thing I can say about "Love Again" is that it is filmed with beautiful people in an urban setting.

Indian Priyanka Chopra Jonas ("Quantico", "Baywatch", "Citadel") and Scottish Sam Heughan ("Outlander", "The Spy Who Dumped Me", "Bloodshot") seem like sympathetic actors.

Unfortunately, they have little chemistry and are unable to play their way out of the script's horribly stiff romance, which is as unconvincing as the thinnest and assembly line-produced weekly short story.

Director Jim Strouse ("The Incredible Jessica James") is also behind the script, or was it written by ChatGPT? It has so many generic "qualities" that one can be fooled.

He throws his characters into several predictable entanglements that could have been playfully prevented, so that the artificial moments of tension maintain a very low temperature.

The scene that gets the most chuckles (which means "a little") is a Tinder date where Priyanka Chopra Jonas as Mira meets the sleazy hottie Joel, because he is played by her real-life husband Nick Jonas.

Smeared with sugar and syrup

And then there's Céline Dion, then. You have to respect what she has achieved in her genre, but she is definitely not a good actress.

Even when she speaks seemingly candidly about missing her great love, the manager René Angélil, who died in 2016, it seems as flat and fake as her unnatural interest in the music journalist's private life.

At one point, she also gives Mira, who is a writer and illustrator of cute children's books, the task of designing her new tour posters. Hello? In what world would we have believed this? We never get to see the result, but are left with the impression that the film's raison d'etre is to promote Dion's generosity and warmth of heart.

Sure, I know this is supposed to be a romantic fantasy, which doesn't necessarily have to follow normal standards of quality, but gods know why Dion thought this would be career-boosting.

Devoted fans, excuse me, but "Love Again" is like the most excruciating, sugar and syrup-smeared 1980s power ballad imaginable, only it lasts 1 hour and 44 minutes.

One star might seem a bit harsh, but if the entire grading scale is ever to be used, it must be for films like this.

[bestjaydee]

Aimer à nouveau

That’s the title of Love Again in French. The movie is a big deal in Quebec because of Céline, and the three major French newspaper in Montreal published reviews yesterday as it came out.  While they have positive things to say about Céline because she’s an icon here and can do no wrong, they are a lot less flattering about the movie : "For her film debut, the singer deserved better than a sentimental tale in 50 shades of beige." - La Presse "The editing is also borderline amateurish, with many scenes being cut a second too soon, often leaving the actors in the middle of an unfinished reaction. Another irritant is the limited acting of Sam Heughan, from Outlander as Rob." - Le Devoir The only one that was not negative was the tabloid-type newspaper: “As you might expect, the ending is corny and some of the twists and turns are a little far-fetched (what music journalist won't ask Celine Dion professional questions in an interview?), but Rob's questions are credible and relevant, Mira's grief is plausible, and this story, as light-hearted as it is, hits the mark.” - Journal de Montréal Because of Céline’s presence, the movie has a major release here with almost all movie theatres offering multiple showings. I wonder how long it will last...

[nescaveckwriter]

Finding Hope - Spilled Coffee (Part One) 😱

Line: Attacked in their sleep 😱 will be in bold

A/N: YAY! My first one for @badthingshappenbingo 🤭, I'm pretty excited about this, its my first 'Criminal Minds - Fanfic' ☺️ so and its right in my favourite zone, so too say. I hope y'all enjoy this, it's going to be a whole series (almost like the tv series) 🤩 let me know if y'all like it💕 much love my bugsies 🐞💕

Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language, blood and gore, normal Criminal Minds stuff, going into depth off crime scenes etc, anything else I missed let me know💕

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Dr. Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, JJ, Emily Prentiss, Meredith Lang.

Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva.

Words:2143 😅

Chapter One: Spilled Coffee Chapter Two: Warnings, Apologies & Bruises. Chapter Three: Bundled, Broken, Maybe Healed?

Tring! Tring! The alarm clock gets louder and louder until the small hand, slaps it of the bedside table. Retreating her arm, till it's tucked under her pillow, adjusting her head a little so that her cheek gets all snug in the satin like pillow case. Not once opening her eyes, just her dark eyebrows furrowed at the noise. Stuck between the place of fast asleep, but still conscious enough, to know what's going on around you. As her body get swallowed up by the comfort of her queen sized bed, and her face relaxes, searching for the dream she just had, her cellphone starts ringing. Reaching for the vibrating phone, playing the music of Bon Jovi's I'll be there for you'

 Her voice revealing that she's still halfway asleep... "Hello" the voice on the other end , filled with love and sweetness "Sweetie, I knew I had to call you, you never had such thing as time"

Confusion evident "Mom? Something wrong?"

Elderly laughter fills the speaker "no sweetie, aren't you starting your new job today?"

Her closed eyes flung open, "what! Mom I'm going to be so late, oh shit!"

"Sweetie language,";

"Sorry Mom, I better get my little behind moving"

"Okay sweetie I'll say goodbye now,"

"No, no please Mom, I'll put you on speaker, so that we can still chat, while I get ready"

Hearing the joy in her mother's voice "That'll be great sweetie" clearing her throat "are you excited for today?"

"Yes Mom, I just hope this new team is going to like me and we're going to fit in with eachother"

Clicking her tongue "oh sweetie, they will love you, everybody does!"

Laughter filling the newly unfurnished apartment "Mom, I'm sure your the only one who thinks that"

Her mother's voice starts to break "Sweetie, it's nothing dangerous right? Your just doing paperwork and profiling people from the inside of your office?"

"Yes mom, I don't go into the field, I am just like a analyst okay, stop worrying," clearing her voice "I'm going to say goodbye now Mom, need to finish up and then find the office, I love you to the moon and back"

"I'll never stop worrying about my children," letting a giggle escapes her lips "its my work! Sweetie please take care of yourself and I love you far and beyond" kissing sounds coming through the phone makes her laugh "you too Mom" blowing a kiss back, before she ends the call.

 The laughter stops, after the call ended, she always feels so guilty, knowing she just lied to her Mom, who only thinks she does paperwork, well that, can't be further from the truth, she's a FBI Agent, who specializes in profiling and analyzing serial killers, rapist's, psychopath's and more and yes she's a field agent, but she'll never tell her mother that, she won't sleep at night, knowing her only daughter is out there trying to catch these people.

 Giving herself a once over before heading out the door, dressed in black dress pants, and a button up dark brownish shirt, letting her dark brown hair hang loosely over her shoulders and some black boots, without heels, if she needs to run after a suspect, she doesn't want to look like some flamingo trying to balance, laughing at her own comment she locks  the apartment door, and walks to her modest looking car, still the same little car her daddy gave her when she went to college. Starting the engine hearing the purring sound only a vintage Volkswagen beetle can make she drives, towards her new workplace feeling somewhere between excited and terrified, but ready for the new challenge.

"Moring Babygirl" the smoky voice fills the bullpen 

The blonde plump women's smile lights up "Morning hot stuff" and so the morning ritual begins like every other morning, except, this morning there awaiting a new agent to start. 

The team sits down around the round table, drinking the coffee Rossi brought. Aaron Hotchner comes walking closer to join his team, his voice revealing the irritation his feeling, "This new agent is late by almost 30 minutes" the rest of the team shares glances at each other as they know, that there boss is not to happy right now. 

The women with the dark Egyptian hairstyle, speaks with a stern voice "Hotch maybe their just having some trouble finding the place, have you met him/her?"

 "No, the request came from the top, I just know his name is Edi Lang, but as for his skills, I have no idea" 

The older classy man looks at Hotch his best friend, "Just give him a chance"

"I agree with Rossi," the slender blonde women's voice is calming.

Hotchner just sits down, taking the takeaway cup in his hand, swallowing the  bitter liquid down.

The younger man with his light brownish hair starts to speak "According to experts at Harvard Medical School, chronic lateness is actually a positive indicator of how a person handles stress and can actually predict a longer life span for that person." saying as a matter of fact.

Morgan looks at him, mischief on his face "Trust boy genius to give us a little piece of Harvard"

Before he could reply someone comes walking through the door, dressed professionally, but looking a little lost, it's the sunny blonde who gets up and strides closer, her smile so inviting as she glances the woman over, at least 5f2' long dark hair, dressed as a FBI Agent, but something about her seems different done her friends. "Hey I'm Penelope Garcia and you are?" she sing-songs

A smile forms the women's heart-shaped lips her, voice sweet "Hello nice too meet you, I'm Edi Lang" 

Penelope let's out a giggle "You're the new agent? Well welcome" she pulls the new comer into a hug.

She can't help but to hug this eccentric friendly women back, she kind of needed the hug. Something tells her, they are going to become good friends.  The rest of the team comes closer, it's first Hotchner that speaks, his voice stern, his face strong, his jawline, revealing the frustration. 

"Agent Lang, you're late" 

Quickly analyzing him, figuring out he's probably her boss, "Sir, I'm really sorry, I might have over slept and then I had to get a coffee and Starbucks was full, and well I can't function without my cup of Jo" she let's out a giggle. The man with his short brown hair, now has a even deeper frown crinkling between his eyebrows. He holds out his hand to shake the new agents hand, but as she reaches over, adjusting the cup of coffee from her right to her left hand, her handbag slides down her shoulder knocking the cup of coffee, onto the bosses white shirt and striped tie.

Her eyes widens, "Oh shit, I'm so sorry sir, Let me help you clean that" He just glares at her his brown eyes piercing hers, "Leave it, I got a spare in my office" 

Running her hand over her face, sighing "that is the best first impression ever Edi" mumbling to herself.

The handsome, tall man laughs. "You are not what we expected for sure, Edi? I'm Derek Morgan" he holds out to shake her hand.

While shaking his hand she begins to speak. "Nice to meet you Agent Morgan"

The other two women comes walking the dark haired women, speaks first , "Nice to meet you, I am Emily Prentiss" 

The women with the blonde shoulder length hair shakes her hand next "I'm Jennifer Jareau, but please call me JJ." 

Derek shoves his best friend closer, "This here is Boy wonder Dr. Spencer Reid, he doesn't shakes hands" letting out a giggle.

"Really Derek" the tall man glares at his friend

"Nice too meet you Dr. Reid" she smiles.

A smile tugs at his lips, as he looks at her, "Nice too meet you , wow, Only around 2% of people in the world have green eyes," 

Letting out a little laugh, "Oh really I didn't know that, now I feel extra special"

Garcia looks at her, "What type of name is Edi?" 

"Garcia, You can't ask her that" he scolds her, turning around to face the new comer "I'm David Rossi, if you want good coffee, and great recipes I'm the one you asks" he smiles

Laughing "Thank you, nice to meet you, and Penelope, it's okay, my name is Meredith, but please call me Edi, only my moms, calls me Meredith when she's angry at me" 

Laughter fills the bullpen, Hotchner look out from his office, a smile tugging, trying to profile this woman, but not quite getting there just yet, all he knows, so far, she seems to be outgoing, friendly, clumsy and late.

After she met everyone, Garcia gave her, her desk, which is just a desk in front of Dr. Reid's, she sit there, adjusting her office chair to be slightly higher so that she can sit with her torso at the edge, instead of her chest. Cussing herself for not wearing heels, as her feet is a bit lifted in the air. Taking the only thing she took for her office desk, out of her handbag. Placing the photo frame on the right side of her desk. 

Derek's husky voice behind her makes her startled, "Hey, if you need anything just howler."

"Thank you, I will" 

He picks up the picture frame, it's a older photo of Edi and some blonde girl, there in a parking lot, about sixteen - seventeen year old Edi, in a shopping cart, laughing as the other girl pushes her. "Your sister?"

Letting out a sad laugh "No, sort of, my best friend Hope, it's a reminder so to say"

"Oh nice, it looks like you two were having fun" he says before walking away, knowing he shouldn't pry.

Just shaking her head, mumbling underneath her breath, "we had so much fun that day" tracing over the photo. 

The team gets called into the bullpen, Garcia's voice sad " A married couple were attacked in their sleep, with what looks like a hammer, sad to say the wife didn't make it" clearing her voice, "but it doesn't look like it was the first time the unsub did this, I've got multiple other cases about three, in Wisconsin, Green Bay" 

Hotchner takes the file in his hands, getting out of his chair "Wheels up in ten, you ready Agent Lang"

The whole team just nods, and she just mimics a yes, as she get's up. 

While there up in the air, she hears Rossi, read a quote to himself "While seeking revenge dig two graves - one for yourself" Glancing at her new team, everyone is on the plane except Penelope, she's back at the office giving them guidance, the heart of any good team. 

While flipping through the file in front of her, trying to see what is the unsub motivation," four house invasions in total, and in each one the female victims doesn't make it, but the male does, the weapon of choice seems to be a hammer, its a brutal way to beat someone, but its as if the unsub doesn't want to put he's hands on the victims, as if his holding back, but he's also filled with so much rage, so pain, specifically towards women" reading over the one case file, closing her eyes, watching the scene play off in her mind " entering through the front door, as if I have a key, walking right past the two children's bedroom as if I know this house inside and out, straight to the main bedroom, first I'm bringing the hammer to the man, so that I can weaken him, then the rage is starting to build up, as I'm smashing this piece of metal all over the man's body, bringing intense fear in the woman, grinning as a throw the first blow to the women, hearing her fearful screams motivates me, giving me a sense of justice, like she's getting what she deserves, the more she cries and begs, the harder the beating. until finally she's left lifeless, not caring about how I leave the scene, I walk out leaving the bloody footprints everywhere, I'm confident, I fit in, yet I'm invisible enough so that, no one will suspect me." as she opens her eyes, the whole team is looking at her, as if she's gone crazy, realizing she must've said it out loud. stuttering "I...I'm sorry"

Rossi smirks "That was pretty quick analyzing done there, you might just fit in perfectly here" 

A slight blush creeping on her cheeks, by the older man's comment. The rest of the flight everyone is quiet and in their own little worlds, just Dr. Reid glancing at her now and then. But every time their eyes meets he looks away. Adjusting herself in the seat, so that she can get some sleep before she lands, knowing that the moment they land, it's going to be all hands on deck.

Part One Here :)

[sunstone-smiles]

Relax, You Barbarian!

A/N: Aaaah! My first Fire Emblem Engage fic is finally here! This is based on Alfred and Céline’s B support conversation and their adorable sibling relationship in general! (I love the Firene siblings so much). I think this fic came out very cute, if I do say so myself, Lol. I hope you enjoy!

Series: Fire Emblem Engage

Characters: Alfred and Céline

Word count: 1,598

Summary: When Alfred makes a task harder on himself again because he jumped to using his muscles as a solution, Céline takes a playful course of action to get her barbaric brother to relax!

—

Mornings at the Somniel are always filled with tranquility. The blossoming sun dyes the sky pink and a breeze strolls through the air. Early risers are already out and about to take morning walks or to get a start on their day, but the usual tranquility is broken by a furious Princess Céline storming into the Somniel’s Café Terrace. She’s wearing her casual, white teatime garb dress that hangs above her knees, adorned with lime and tangerine colored frills at the bottom and lime colored bows at the hips to match.

“Alfred! There you are!” Céline shouts at the Firene prince, her brother. Fortunately, no one was on cooking duty yet behind the café’s counter, nor were any of her other allies resting at the tables or couches.  

“Hey! Morning Céline!” the prince in question looks up from his task of unpacking a crate full of fruit. Oranges, apples, and peaches are organized into piles on the table in front of him. Plenty more wooden crates are stacked behind him. He’s attired in his casual floral regalia, which consists of his white dress shirt with embroidered gold stripes, square-ended black tie, and black pants—all topped off with a small flower sharing the color of sunrise resting in his breast pocket. “Do you need me for something?” he asks his sibling.

“As a matter of fact, I do!” the princess stomps closer. Her long, sunny hair bounces with every step. She crosses her arms in an accusative way. “Mind telling me why those in the orchard were praising you for your so-called ‘feats of strength’ when I walked by them this morning?”

“Ooh, that! I was just helping them move some crates of freshly harvested fruit from the orchard to the kitchen,” Alfred gestures towards the stack of crates behind him that are nearly taller than he is.

Céline scowls. She has a feeling that there’s more to his story. “And did you strain yourself while doing so?”

“Strain myself? Ha ha, don’t be silly Céline,” he speaks while organizing the fruit. “I’ll admit that the crates were a little heavy, but it was nothing a little muscle couldn’t do! So I picked them up and carried them all here at once so I didn’t have to make multiple trips!”

“You what?!” Céline roars after processing his words twice to make sure she heard him correctly. “Alfred! That is the exact opposite of not straining yourself!” She slaps a palm to her forehead. “If they were so heavy, why didn’t you just use something like a wheelbarrow to make the task easier on yourself?”

“Oooooh, you’re right! I could have done that, ha ha. Whoops.” Alfred shrugs. “Oh well, it never hurts to get an extra workout in!” the Firene prince flexes an arm forward with confidence.

“But it can hurt you, Alfred!” Céline thunders back at him. “Resorting to more physical labor than necessary to solve a problem is downright barbaric behavior! We’ve discussed this before!”

“I know, I know,” Alfred holds up his hands to calm the frustration bubbling in his sister, “That I’m a prince and need to act more like one. Tell you what, the next time I have to move something heavy in one trip, I’ll use a wheelbarrow to make it easier. Does that sound like a plan?”

Céline’s inner teapot of anger comes to a boil and spews out furious steam. “Once again, you have completely missed the point!” she throws down her balled up fists near her hips. “What you need is to relax!”

“I’m sorry, Céline! But I can’t help it! You know that it always tickles me to be able to help my friends and allies, especially if it requires my muscles to do the job.” The prince returns to his task of unpacking the crate of fruit on the table.

Céline growls at him like an agitated wolf pup, until her face flashes with realization. She blinks while thinking about her brother’s particular choice of words in his previous sentence. Her scowl turns into a toothy smirk.

“Oh really?” Céline emphasizes the last syllable, like a teasing warning of what she’ll say next. “Tickles you, you say? Well, then I guess you wouldn’t mind if I returned the favor.” She saunters closer towards his back with her fingers positioned in the air like claws, “Take this, Alfred!”

With no hesitation, Céline darts her hands forward and squeezes Alfred’s sides.

“AHH!” Alfred releases a high-pitched squeal and stumbles back from the table, which is immediately followed by a chain reaction of uncontrollable giggles spilling from his mouth.

“Céheheheheheline!” Alfred wraps his arms around himself to avoid Céline’s tickle attack to his sides.

“If you wont let yourself relax, then I’ll just have to force you to!” Céline smiles, all her previous anger subsiding.

“Buhuhuhuhut Céheheline!” Alfred wriggles in her hold, trying to keep his balance. His body bends forward the more she keeps digging into the fabric of his dress shirt. “Ihhihit tihihihickles!” the prince reasons through his wiggly giggles.

“That’s the whole point, Alfred,” Céline teases her sibling. Her brother may be physically strong, but Céline is well aware that his strength weakens while being caught by his sibling’s playful tickles.

“Now, roll over and accept your fate!” the Firene princess exclaims and digs a hand into his stomach.

Alfred yelps and nearly doubles over with another burst of laughter. “Wahahahait!” he twists around and gently grabs on to his little sister’s wrist to try and tug her hands away. “Nohohohot the tuhuhuhummy!” 

Céline fights back, however, only gaining further access to his ticklish middle. Alfred leans back in an attempt to distance himself from his sister's wiggling fingers, still holding on to her wrists. Unable to keep his balance any longer though, Alfred topples to the ground. Céline giggles and jumps down after him, not letting her brother a single moment to escape from his joyous, giggly state. 

Alfred squeaks as Céline crawls her fingers to his ribs and underarms. A cheery expression lights up her brother’s face as he delightfully kicks his legs and throws his arms across his chest like a shield to protect his torso that Céline finds a way to break through. His blonde, golden retriever-like, hair sways as he shakes his head in giggly elation and his tie slides off the center of his body in each direction he squirms. Unlike his usual ways to solve a problem, Alfred can’t muscle his way through this one and instead melts under Céline’s tickles with laughter that radiates positivity like pure drops of sunlight.

“Have you had enough yet, you barbarian?” Céline grins above him.

“Nehehehever!” Alfred refuses, playing along with the game.

“Well, then it seems like I have to take drastic measures.” Céline returns to his tummy and Alfred squeaks again with an outpour of giggles as she untucks and slips her hands under his shirt to scratch at his skin, while at the same time lifting up his shirt to expose his belly.

“Prepare yourself, Alfred! You asked for this!” Céline sharply inhales to fill her lungs with air and puff out her cheeks.

Alfred’s emerald green eyes widen and he sharply inhales a gasp of his own. “Oh no! Céline! Wait, wait, wait–!!!” But the prince is cut off by his own screams of laughter when Céline swings her head down and blows a big, tickly raspberry right on his belly. Alfred kicks his legs frantically on the floor and playfully shoves at Céline’s head to move the Firene tickle monster away from his middle. On top of the tickly raspberries, Céline’s hair glides along the top of his stomach, only adding onto the tickles being delivered by her attack. Ignoring his attempts at defense, Céline takes another deep breath and plants another raspberry on his belly already bouncing with laughter.

Alfred throws his head back and arches his spine as Céline alternates from raspberries to fingers at his tummy. “Céheheheline!!! Nohoho-hahahaha!”

Alfred rolls over onto his side, but Céline tilts him back towards her to blow an additional raspberry on his stomach. Alfred tosses his head back again and cackles. Céline giggles at her brother’s reaction, allowing both Firene siblings to share a laugh alongside each other.

“OKAY! Céheheheline! No more! Nohoho mohohore plehehease! Hahaha!”

The princess chuckles and pulls her hands away to let her brother rest. Alfred sprawls out on the tiled flooring, like a pressed flower flattened to a page of a book, as he regains oxygen into his lungs.

Helping her brother out, Céline pulls Alfred’s shirt down to cover his belly, then gently pats him on the stomach. “You alright, Alfred?”

“Yeah,” Alfred replies with a few residual giggles. “Phew! That felt like a workout.”

“You were completely defeated by my tickle attack and yet you’re still thinking about workouts?” Céline shakes her head. “Haven’t you learned anything?”

Alfred puts an arm behind his head and looks up at her with a warm smile.

“I learned that I still have an amazing sister.”

Céline blinks in surprise, but her expression softens when those words touch her heart. She gives another poke to Alfred’s side.

“Hehey!” the prince jolts with another giggle, “What was that for?”

“For changing the subject.” Céline pauses to smile back at him, “And for being my barbaric, but wonderful brother.”

Alfred chuckles and Céline lends him a hand back to his feet. Afterwards, the princess offers to help her brother unpack the rest of the crates. Alfred gladly takes the offer. A little assistance from his sibling is always appreciated.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Céline Calame

Published: Mar 13, 2024

Last year, I made one of the biggest changes of my life when I decided to stop trying to disguise my sex. A few days after my 28th birthday would have marked ten years since I began injecting testosterone. I had always thought I would feel at peace with that milestone, so deep in my so-called “authentic life.”

Heading home from work one day in February 2023, I stopped to look at the newspaper stand, where a headline about Jamie Reed blowing the whistle on “gender medicine” at the St. Louis Children’s Hospital caught my eye. As I read the article, it shook me to my core how much I related to each and every line. I myself had used the phrase, “Would you rather have a dead daughter or a living son?” on my mother, a phrase I had heard online, a phrase apparently recited by medical professionals to distraught parents. I was horrified to realize I was not the only one who had gone down this path as a minor.

I had already stopped taking testosterone several months prior, fearing medical complications. Despite my facial hair, as my body fat began to redistribute I began to be correctly sexed by confused men in public restrooms. I debated my next step. My little niece had only ever known me as her “uncle,” since my husband and I lived outwardly as a happy “gay” couple. Having grown a beard and undergone a double mastectomy, I continued pretending to be a man… but did I want to?

* * *

As a child growing up in Alabama, I simply thought life would be better if I were a boy: I wouldn’t get stared at in the video game aisles or made fun of for liking sports. Never mind that if I were a boy, other boys would have judged me for my Care Bear collection and my affinity for Barbies. Each night I prayed and every year I made birthday wishes to one day wake up as a boy with not a soul having any recollection to the contrary. 

And yet in some ways I did not really mind being a girl. Our neighbor loved to tease my sister and me by yelling to us, “Hey, boys!” which was met without fail each time with: “WE’RE GIRLS, MARK!” In truth, I was less of a classic tomboy and more of a healthy young girl who did not let stereotypes dictate her life. I didn’t worry about my body until I learned about the ways others changed theirs. My issue was that everyone around me seemed obsessed with separating boys and girls by telling us what hobbies or friends we were allowed to have, something I did not understand. 

When I first went online, in 2006 or 2007, I was about 10 years old. At first I mostly played dress-up games. Eventually I learned that I could look up questions I had, which led me to Yahoo! Answers. I wound up on the LGBT section of the site, where I asked if I could be “a boy inside” even if I loved my long hair, liked my “girly” clothes and hobbies, and didn’t really mind being called a girl. The answer was, bizarrely, a resounding “yes.” Several of the responses even gave me resources: forums I had absolutely no business being on, full of adults trying to change their sex, as well as webcomics glamorizing medicalization.

I learned to hide things from my family and to judge them negatively for not being able to understand or accept the complexity of “gender identity.” How could they deny that I was a boy inside? How could they deny “gender” might exist in shades of gray? Adults online told me that males who said they did not “feel like guys” were only saying so because they “never had to think about gender” the way I did.

My mother, at her wit’s end with how much I had gone silent towards her, did the only thing she could think to do: She read my diary. The first page of this new journal was dedicated to the logistics of stuffing my underwear with rolled-up socks to create a phallic bulge while still needing to use the girls’ locker room at school… my mother confronted me angrily, asking me how long I had been doing all these things to look like a boy. I completely shut her out, my trust in her shattered. I decided never to tell her about things going on in my life, such as self-harm, sexual abuse from a neighbor that made me ashamed of my own body, and the isolation I felt as a result of my hereditary progressive hearing loss.

My mother took away my “boy clothes” and refused to let me cut my hair. She would threaten to send me to all-girls schools. Several times she followed me to the store to ensure I was not buying duct tape, which she learned I was using to flatten my chest, or shaving razors, because she knew I was no longer shaving but instead self-harming. All of these things pushed me further away. My story finally looked more like the desperate stories of other teenagers in my boat, with families who fought every step of the way against gender ideology.

One day, realizing that my mother sometimes used male pronouns in front of me but used female pronouns when talking to anyone else, I came to the horrifying conclusion that I would never be accepted by my family as the opposite sex. Everyone online told me that suicide rates for “transgender” teens were sky-high, that without “transition” death would be my only relief. I attempted to take my own life. The tides turned in my favor: I never heard my birth name again, and was exclusively referred to as male.

Years later, when I wanted to back out, I remembered how hard it was to convince her in the first place.

* * *

At age 14 I found a gender therapist in Montgomery and emailed her, explaining that I was uncertain if anyone would let me medicalize my body because I was “a little nonbinary.” She told me I would be surprised at how open-minded she was. I began saving up money to see her. Every single penny was pinched with the goal of one day using it all to “transition.” I did not do anything fun with my friends or create savings goals for adulthood.

At age 17, I finally had an appointment with her. She made sure to schedule it for the same day as a group meeting where I met another 17-year-old girl who was already on testosterone and a man pretending to be a woman who did most of the talking while we both sat there shyly, silently.

I spent all of twenty to thirty minutes telling my story, leaving out details regarding my nebulous sense of “identity” as tumblr had suggested and instead highlighting that I had “lived as male” for a few years at that point. The therapist asked why I had come to see her, since I “sounded so sure” of myself. I needed to see a therapist in order to be prescribed cross-sex hormones, I said. She turned to her computer, entering my name into a form pre-filled for just this purpose. She handed me a printed copy, saying she would also submit my referral to an endocrinologist who worked in the same building. I was floored. Was it really going to be this easy? 

When I saw the endocrinologist he was alarmed that I had listed lithium, a mood stabilizer, as a medication I took. I explained that I had mood swings but that I had full consent from everyone to begin hormones. He was uncomfortable and wanted letters from my parents and psychiatrist, but then ignored these letters after I submitted them.

Sometime during the following year, I dragged my mother to the probate judge to change my legal name. She sat there, looking desolate and defeated as I assured the judge that she fully consented. He told me he could not in good faith assist a minor attempting to lie about her sex.

A few days after turning 18, I returned to the endocrinologist, having never seen the gender therapist past that first appointment. On the basis of “informed consent,” he could not turn me down: as long as I said that I was aware of all the risks and side effects, and accepted them as par for course, I would be prescribed cross-sex hormones. Did I understand the medical risks of what I was doing? Sort of. All of the side effects meant nothing to me because I had been told online that the alternative was a life of misery and eventual inevitable suicide. It would be years before I saw myself in Jamie Reed’s words: “All it took for them to permanently transform themselves was one or two short conversations with a therapist.”

I left with a prescription which I filled that day. The taunting at school stopped as the bullies who mocked me heard my voice crack, then drop. Facial hair sprouted. I bound my chest, sometimes with very frilly, cutesy custom-made binders. (A cupcake print one comes to mind.)

I entered college very open about the fact that I was female but wanted to be a man. I frequently wore makeup and sometimes women’s clothes, saying I was “expressing femininity as a man.” I was on every “transgender student” panel and did my best to “educate” everyone on the intricacies of people like me. I got a large tattoo to mask my breasts, thinking I’d never be able to afford a mastectomy. 

At the appointment the tattoo artist asked me, her deaf client, “How do you sign MY BODY IS AMAZING?” I showed her and she turned it into a dance. It was the dance of another woman who struggled her whole life to love her body. I had begun to love mine but was still obsessed with not looking completely like either sex. This made romantic endeavors difficult because I insisted on trying to be with gay men despite not being male and no longer even making an attempt to look male.

I found out that my student health insurance covered “transition,” so I made a consultation for a “simple release” metoidioplasty because I wanted ambiguous genitalia. At the appointment, I had no sign language interpreter and did my best to understand the staff and communicate what I wanted. The surgeon asked if I wouldn’t prefer a more linear path involving a mastectomy first. The nurse shook her own breasts at me while looking at my chest, eagerly smiling to indicate that the doctor was right. Uncomfortable, I took off my shirt. The surgeon assured me that my tattoo would remain totally intact and that because I was so small-chested the mastectomy could be done with the keyhole method, leaving me without scarring. 

The day of the surgery, I kept wondering if something would go wrong. If my insurance would suddenly fall through. If my ride home would cancel, thus necessitating we reschedule the whole thing. Instead everything went very smoothly. Everyone assured me that when I woke up, I would be happy.

A few days later in my dorm room, seeing my new chest unbandaged for the first time, I could hardly remember having breasts. I thought this meant it was the right thing to do. In hindsight, it was trauma. I was 21 and had no idea that my breasts would not grow back if I stopped testosterone. Prior to the operation, I told my therapist I might one day have a child and want to breastfeed my baby, but we never followed up on that thread.

Post-mastectomy, I got a vaguely worded letter from the surgeon expressing that my sex had been “changed” and that I was now “physically male.” My birth certificate and driver’s license were amended to reflect this lie.

I was not unhappy, per se, but taking cross-sex hormones is like trying to install a Windows operating system onto an Apple computer. You can certainly do it, but the machine is not equipped to deal with that. I had already been through female puberty. My bone structure would never look male. I would never gain muscle the same way men do. I began struggling with my eating disorder much more severely following my mastectomy because I saw my stomach sticking out so much further than my now-flat chest. I developed vaginal atrophy and cervical problems which I am only just beginning to have treated because I avoided gynecologists for so long.

After meeting him on a gay dating website and falling in love, I married a man in 2019. We moved to the Midwest and I did something I always thought I wanted: I went totally “incognito” about being transgender, and let everyone believe me to be wholly male. Instead, I felt empty inside for years. I could never be wholly truthful about my childhood. My husband was privately uncertain how it was possible for me to “feel like a man” and later admitted to being terrified of the medical experimentation I was undergoing. He loved me dearly as his “husband,” and was willing to refer to me as such regardless of whether or not I medicalized myself. He expressed what my family was by then afraid to: How long would I live?

* * *

After reading an article about Jamie Reed in our local paper, I researched detransition. I had been taught to see people who stopped lying about their sex as self-hating, “transphobic,” or even rare cases of other issues being mistaken for “genuine gender dysphoria.”

What I found was so different from what I had been told: thousands of people who had been prescribed cross-sex hormones after a single appointment, many never seeing a therapist even once. Hundreds of women whose breasts had been removed without ever being asked why they wanted that. People whose healthy genitals had been mutilated to poorly approximate those of the opposite sex. So many who really did at some point–or even still–struggle with the desire to be the opposite sex, an impossible endeavor. 

The future was uncertain to me. I was nearly 30 and had lived half my life lying about my sex. There was no adult woman I could return to being.

Was there?

Hundreds of people told me that even if I had lived my whole life pretending to be male, detransition did not mean “going back” to anything. It meant stopping the medicalization and the lies. It meant starting over. It meant moving forward.

I planned to wait a year before publicly detransitioning as a way of “serving penance” (a coping strategy my husband suggested, knowing the guilt I felt about my medicalization) and to avoid being perceived as a man pretending to be a woman. I wore women’s clothing at home, along with breast forms, which took an insane amount of courage because I felt like I was crossdressing as a woman despite being female. 

One day, I snapped. I felt miserable going to work every day living a lie and absolutely could not continue to handle the frustration of dealing with a period in the men’s restrooms. I told my HR director about my situation, expecting shock. I expected a few slow weeks of telling managers, then coworkers, eventually changing my name tag and restroom habits. Instead, she was completely unsurprised. Expressing that she would support whatever timeline I wanted, she reassured me that absolutely no one would be uncomfortable with me in the women’s restroom. 

I changed my name tag that very day and told all of my coworkers through a handwritten note that I passed to them with shaking hands. Not one was fazed. Most reacted with great positivity and support. A few asked me privately why I had “transitioned” in the first place and I told them very honestly: I was groomed by adults online and felt trapped in my decisions. The last decade of my life had been the epitome of sunk-cost fallacy.

Gender ideology ruined my childhood. I wonder today what would have happened had I never been exposed to the rhetoric online or had therapists pressed me about where I was getting these ideas. Today I know that being a woman is just about being female. It has nothing to do with the way she dresses, the way she sits, or the way she walks, talks, and lives her life. My mother is relieved to have her daughter back. 

One day my in-laws came to visit while I was wearing breast prosthetics and feminine clothing. My husband and I expected bewilderment that never came. After a few hours of aimless conversation, I told them that if they weren’t going to ask why I suddenly looked like a woman, then I would just have to tell them. I was met with love and support, but wondered if I should say anything about the hole I saw their daughter falling down. 

My teenage sister-in-law had brought her sketchbook over to show me her drawings: large-breasted anime characters that she insisted were male. Later, I texted her about my detransition to which she responded with her desire to be a boy, her involvement in the same Internet circles I had fallen for, and her intentions to look more masculine. I see myself in her: She is ashamed of her body and the Internet has already told her this means she is “a boy inside.”

I wrote this for her but she is unwilling to read it. 

I’ll be there for her when she’s ready.

--

About the Author

Céline Calame is an aspiring literacy specialist for deaf children in the Midwest. She volunteers with Women’s Declaration International USA, having joined its Desisted & Detransitioned Women’s Caucus in 2024.