#The song is literally “You can give up on your religious job for love. It’s fine. God wants you to be happy” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yauchfilms · 7 months ago

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big thighs, new jersey ✢ mattias samuelsson (18+)

pairing: mattias samuelsson x fem!reader (childhood friends to lovers)

warnings: pining. so much pining. fem language (reader is referred to as a woman). cursing. alcohol consumption. reader and mattias are drunk but coherent. super vague religious imagery. oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, fingering, petnames, praise, enthusiastic consent, cocky mattias but literally who is shocked, begging, so many feelings involved. ever so slight angst.

summary: y/n has been in love with mattias since they first met when they were 8, and they had matching bowl cuts. being his best friend is the hardest job she’s ever been tasked with. 16 years of pure desperation all boils down to one night on the beach.

word count: 5.2k ... jesus christ

author's note: welcome to what is essentially a year's worth of brainrot, compiled into one fic. i started this concept a year ago with some friends, and now thanks to @pldstattoos, @flashyfucker, and @puck-luck, it is now a tangible piece of literature. based ever so loosely on the song “big thighs, nj” by lowcut connie, amongst other tunes that i will share later. this man just SCREAMS childhood friends to lovers so i had to give my very best to my favorite boy ever.

it’s late again.

he’s got one arm draped over your shoulders, gesturing wildly to the rest of the group with his can of seltzer, not spilling a single drop. the old, paint-stained sheet you two share has gone cold, matching the feeling of the sand beneath it.

if he remembered you brought that old “seaside heights” sweatshirt you bought back in the heyday of the jersey shore era with you to the beach when you told him you were cold, eyes wide and hopeful, he kept it to himself.

another day spent at the beach with your friends, skitting along the sand, never too far apart from each other. you could feel him on your skin like the humidity.

it’s been like this since your parents agreed, reluctantly, that you were too old for day camps and you barely got to see mattias anymore during the school year. your mom softened when you mentioned him like she always did. since then, you’d bike to his house in the morning to find him strapping on his rollerblades. you’d make him race you for a few blocks since he insisted on cross-training in the offseason or whatever it was he said to make himself feel like he wasn’t totally slacking off. then you both slowed down, falling into a rhythm about as familiar as your own heartbeat. you’d meet up with friends, skipping through town and letting the breeze off the ocean push you one way or another. and more often than not, it ended around a fire pit — and as you got older — with cans in hands, recounting the day and making half-hearted plans for the next one.

except, now you’re older. old enough that you just finished your first ever real internship, one that led you up to the summer, now leaving you with the stress of finding a real job. but that doesn’t matter right now. what matters right now is the fact that you’re back with your friends, on the beach, recalling those stories from long ago, like how you broke your arm when you were 10 because you insisted to mattias and his older brother, luke, that you could do a cartwheel on the trampoline in your roller skates. it had been his older sister, allie, that called the ambulance, naturally.

you’re acutely aware that there are a finite number of these days and nights left. mattias is a big-time hockey player now (well, not actually, but to you, he might as well be wayne gretzky), and just like you, he can’t spend his whole life on the beach. but you really wish he could, with you, forever. knowing you have to share him with the world, that’s the part that eats at you.

you’re also acutely aware of his position on you, his hand skirting just barely along the top of your bikini top, just barely out of reach from where you really wish he’d lay his hands. you wonder if he can feel the goosebumps on your skin from the calm jersey winds.

mattias’ voice vibrates through your body, its deep, steady buzz keeping you centered. it’s not until you hear angelo let out an almost inhumane noise that triggers the group into a state of hysteria, that you feel a cold splash on your shoulder and the sound of mattias stifling a choked laugh, snapping you out of your thoughts. you glance up at mattias, whose guilt slowly etches onto his face as he drunkenly realizes what he’s done. he didn’t even spill that much, but he knows there’s a good chance you’ll overdramatize for the sake of poking fun at him.

“mattias, how could you!” you widen your eyes again and fling your wrist against your forehead, leaning your back into him as though you’re fainting. you stick to your performance as much as you can, trying to ignore how his muscular frame presses against you, his arms catching you with your quick movements. he’s leaning down over you, rolling his eyes and laughing at you. you smell the scent of mango and alcohol on his breath, his signature summer scent at this point. you could kiss him right now if you wanted; he was close enough to your face.

you want to chastise him for not being more careful, for not paying attention to his own body. but you know it weighs on him more than anyone else. there are boundaries you know not to cross.

he lifts up his shirt, just enough to use it as a makeshift towel for the drink he spilled on you. just enough to see his soft, tan skin and the ripple of his muscles that he, for some reason, chooses to hide more often than not.

“sorry, baby. lemme help you,” he half-whispers, because he’s mattias, a man who can never be truly silent. baby. a nickname he started using on you when you were 15, starting to drink when you went to the cool parents’ house, a nickname that he only really uses on you when you’ve both been under some sort of influence. he knows the effect that it has on you, and you hate that you know that he seems to do it on purpose. he’s so unfair sometimes.

he uses his free arm to keep you steady, wrapping his arm around your stomach. you can feel his heartbeat against your back, but choose not to focus on it too much. you’re practically in his lap now, being cradled in his arms as you feel the soft material of his shirt swipe down your arm, and back over your shoulder, and just along that same forbidden spot along the hem of your bikini top. it’s killing you at this point.

“all good?” he asks, causing you to be forced to look him in the eyes again.

“all good,” you squeak out, your voice barely a whisper, leaning back into him and taking your spot back in his arms.

“sorry again, dude,” he slurs, smoothing down the messy hair on top of your head, and it reminds you that you, too, have plenty of alcohol in your body, and it’s just now starting to catch up. it’s that same consumption of alcohol that would account for why no one has paid attention to either of you for the past 5 minutes, everyone caught up in telling their own drunken tales from the past.

you go to tell him that you swear it’s okay, when josh loudly —and suddenly— announces his departure from the group, saying something about his early morning tee time with his dad the next day. it was from there that lauren, bri, and anna got up and began making their way back to the house together, arm in arm, giggling about an inside joke that you had been too distracted to participate in. julian and angelo linger for a few minutes longer, arguing with each other and mattias about stuff that doesn’t matter. your eyes feel heavier still. the pair of boys eventually peel off, their yawns becoming hard to ignore. they bid their goodbyes to you and your human pillow, disappearing up the dune and into the house.

mattias nudges you, and you stir.

“do you want to head in? it’s, like, 3:45 am,” mattias asks, showing you the time on his phone. his phone background – a photo of the group, his arms, wrapped around your chest, everyone smiling like it was picture day – lights up your face, the sudden brightness causing you to squint. sure enough, the clock reads 3:42 am. you let out a sigh, twisting in his arms so you’re laying with your back to the sheet, between his thighs. he grabs your head on both sides, shaking it slightly, his fingers loosely carding through your hair. you don’t say anything, just staring up at him like he’s a god of some sort.

“what’s up? talk to me. did i do something?” he looks down at you, a sympathetic look in his eyes mixed with that damn smirk of his.

“tias,” is all you can manage to get out, your voice barely a whisper.

“yeah?” his voice suddenly going quieter than normal. this is rare, and it worries you.

“would you be mad at me if i asked you to kiss me?” you ask, suddenly feeling bold and vulnerable with your loneliness in the moonlight.

“of course i wouldn’t; am i ever mad when you ask?” he replies, cocking an eyebrow at you. and he was right. you two had made out countless times before, always in private, never escalating past light groping, always leaving you both high and dry, but too scared to ask for more. even at your big ages, you were still stuck in this routine, always running back to each other when the girl mattias tried to fly out bailed on him or the guy you met at the bar ended up giving you a weird vibe. it was normal in some way. like, of course best friends kiss each other. why wouldn’t they?

“you don’t get it, i don’t think,” you dare, the alcohol in your system giving you a strange boost of confidence.

his hands loosen around your head, ever so slowly moving down your neck, over your shoulders, and to that damned spot on your chest. your body reacts to his touch, suddenly hyper-aware of just how cold you are on the beach in nothing but a bathing suit.

“no, i think i do. let me know if i’m reading this wrong, but i think i get it,” he responds.

you adjust yourself between his legs, your head now laying on his upper thigh. you feel the strong muscles tighten underneath you, causing a chill to run down your spine. looking up at him, your eyes soften, and he leans down again, feeling his breath on your face. the scent of mango white claw still lingers, only slightly less prominent now. you squirm slightly at the feeling of him so close.

“tell me what you want,” he speaks, low and gravelly. the feeling of it in your eardrums sends a pang straight to your core.

“what do you think i want?” you tease, wondering if he truly has caught on, or if he’s telling you want you want to hear.

“you want me to fuck you, don’t you?” his words catch you off guard, even though he said exactly what you were hoping for. “you don’t think i haven't felt you squirming in my lap all night? i’m not that dumb, baby.” his voice is barely audible at this point, just enough to get his point across.

all you can do is stare up at him, suddenly unable to form a complete thought, putty in his lap. your breathing grows heavier, and he can’t help but notice.

“so, what’ll it be?”

“please, ti.”

he pulls you up into his lap and you straddle him, finding your place settled directly above the bulge in his since-dried board shorts. his hands immediately find their place along your sides, gliding gently up and down from your ribcage to your hips. his fingers linger slightly over the string of your bikini, toying with it, not daring to remove it. he leans down, connecting your lips from where they were parted dumbfoundedly in front of him, as if you had never been in that position with him before. you had, but this was different.

he moves slowly, as if wanting to take his time with you, not knowing whether or not this would be the first or the only time he would have his way with you. you open your mouth once again, a moan escaping your lips. he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, licking up into you with desperation. the roll of your hips against him elicits a loud groan from him, now, and you decide that if that was the last thing you ever heard, you would die a happy woman. you can feel his shorts growing tighter underneath your lap, causing you to roll your hips again, slower than the first time. another groan escapes his lips, causing you to stop and look him in the eyes, your hands holding his face tenderly.

“what are you so fucking loud for?” you tease, knowing that the sounds he’s making are turning you on even more, as evident by the wet spot growing on his shorts.

“sorry, i’ve just been thinking about this moment since we were 16. you don’t know how hard its been to keep my cool around you, y/n. i’ve been so good, so patient. i can’t think of anything i’ve ever wanted more than this,” he says, panting slowly, trying to control his breathing. he seems as if a huge weight has been lifted off of his chest.

you hold back the tears threatening to spill over your waterline. you feel the exact same way, just unsure of how to express it. all you can do is plant a delicate kiss to his lips, letting the moment speak for itself. his hands find that spot of your bikini top, finger rubbing lightly on the freshly tanned skin there.

“may i, please?” he almost begs, toying with the strap of the thin top, a look of desperation looking up at you with big hazel eyes.

“of course,” you whisper, a kiss planted to the tip of his nose.

long, slender fingers make their way down your shoulders to the front of your chest, as he hooks the strap around his fingers, pulling slightly. a gasp escapes his lips as your full chest is exposed, the harsh chill immediately giving you goosebumps, you reaching back to unclasp and remove the rest of it. he sees the way your body reacts to the cold, and he takes your right breast in his large hand, enveloping it in his grasp, and you immediately feel warmer. he kisses you again, more passionate than the last, massaging the flesh in his hand, deft fingers keeping rhythm against your skin.

he leans back, taking you with him, now fully laying on top of him on the sandy blanket. his hands trail to your ass, the lack of his hand on your chest not too significant due to the lack of space between your bodies now.

the kiss never breaks, your hips rolling deep into him, the feeling of his hardness underneath you growing almost unbearable.

“ti, i need you to touch me please,” you sigh, pulling away.

all he can do is look up at you, his face slack as he furiously nods his head.

his hand trails down your ass, following the hem of your bikini bottoms, his fingers tracing the fabric down to your core. he moves the fabric to the side, sliding his fingers through your folds with a loud gasp.

“oh my god, so fucking wet,” he groans into your shoulder, you kissing up and down his neck, nibbling just below his ear.

“just for you, only you,” you whisper in his ear, causing his hips to buck up at you. “slow down,” you warn, not wanting to waste this moment.

he begins rubbing down on your clit, and now it’s your turn to moan. he glides his middle finger through your wetness a few more times before slowly teasing your entrance with the pad of his finger. you let out a whimper, signaling that he can go ahead. he slides his finger into your cunt, and you immediately feel the stretch of his thick digit.

“can you take another, baby?” he asks, not necessarily waiting for permission before adding a second finger. the stretch was almost unbearable, and he could feel you react to it so viscerally while he scissored his fingers slowly in and out.

“just wait till you take my cock,” he growls, his confidence suddenly taking over.

“now, please,” you whine, desperate for what you’d dreamt about since you were a horny teenager fantasizing about his length in math class.

“what happened to patience, baby?” he questioned, fingers never losing pace in your cunt. “i wanna taste you; are you gonna let me do that, huh?”

all you could seem to muster out was a weak “mhm”; his fingers already overwhelming you.

he removes his fingers, eliciting a wince from you. turning you over in his arms, he begins kissing your face, barely avoiding your lips, down your chin, to your neck, stopping right by your ear.

“i know baby, i know, i’m gonna take such good care of you, don’t you worry, baby,” his voice almost primitive.

he returns to his path down your neck, leaving marks that you’re sure your friends will see in the morning. he takes his time, agonizingly slow, and you wonder how he hasn’t come in his shorts yet with how patient he’s being. he gets to your chest, placing chaste kisses across it, until he reaches your left breast. he takes your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue, causing you to arch up into him. he doesn’t say anything, simply opting to hum into your skin, the sensation driving you crazy. he comes off with a pop, his hand quickly replacing his mouth as he makes his way over to the other side.

you run your fingers through his hair, the hair that he has yet to ruin with his midsummer chop. you twist the longer locks between your fingers, needing some sort of stimulation. your hands trail down his back, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt, wondering why it’s even still on in the first place, suddenly feeling overexposed.

“take this off, now,” you demand, your voice sounding stricter than you intended. he stops, leaning up on his knees to look down at the beautiful sight below him.

“yes, ma’am,” he groans, drawing out each word. if he hadn’t had you pinned down beneath him, you probably would arched up into him. he reaches behind him, yanking the top over his head in one fell swoop, exposing his soft, tan chest, the few hairs left at the top near the base of his neck curling up neatly.

“stop starin’, baby,” he teases, knowing exactly what you’re thinking, although both of you refuse to acknowledge it; something to tease him about at a different time.

he leans back down towards you, placing a soft kiss to your lips, eliciting a giggle from you, which makes him pull back, that signature goofy grin of his plastered across his face.

“you ready?” he asks, making sure you two are on the same page, although he knows he doesn't have to ask.

a soft “please” escapes your lips, reverberating off of his own, and he begins making his way down your body, starting with your neck, softly nibbling at the skin there. he trails down your shoulder, kissing the newly-formed freckles that have appeared from the past few days of sunshine, then, obviously stopping to spend a quick second alone with your tits. from there he makes it to your stomach, causing your breath to hitch sharply. he pulls back, quickly placing another peck to your lips, as if to say “it's okay”.

he regains his place at your navel, using his hands to pry your legs apart for him. despite your sudden shyness, you oblige immediately, and he lets out a guttural groan at the view of the wet spot prominently featured on your bikini bottoms.

“i need these off, now,” he demands, this time, tugging at the strings of your bikini, undoing the ties on your hips, patting the flesh of your hip to lift up for him. you oblige, and your bottoms are joined with your top in the sand.

mattias ducks back down, face fully aligned with your cunt. his finger once again finds its place between your folds, not quite doing anything, but rather scoping out just how wet you truly are. another groan escapes him, mixing with the moan that escapes you, harmonizing together into what you could only describe as a masterpiece. his groan echoes off of you, feeling the warm breath of him.

you look down at him, and he looks up to meet your eyes. while never breaking eye contact, he allows a string of spit to fall down his tongue and into your folds, making your legs twitch, embarrassingly though, because his tongue had yet to make contact.

you think he’s about to touch you again, when you suddenly feel the cooling sensation of his mouth on you, catching you off guard. his tongue circles your clit, much like how he had your nipple in his mouth earlier, causing you to arch your back into his face, the feeling of just 3 days worth of stubble stinging your thighs. he wraps his arms around your upper thighs, holding you in place.

“gotta be still baby; taste so fucking good. i love this pussy,” he coos, his warm breath once again driving you mad.

you giggle, not out of malice, but because you often found yourself alone at night, imagining him saying similar things to you, your own hand never seeming to do the trick. you wonder if he’s ever done the same, even though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.

you thought your reaction would’ve deterred him, but shockingly, it only seemed to motivate him more, picking up his speed, practically making out with your core. his nose, long and slender, hits your clit, sending shockwaves through you, your legs growing shakier with each kitten lick.

“mattias, i’m close,” your words croak out; you can barely think straight.

“you’re doin’ so good for me,” he pants, trying to stifle the moans that dare to escape his lips. “you got it, baby, so fuckin’ good.”

his words, mixed with his motions, are enough to send you over the edge. he continues his movements with his tongue on your clit, electing to tease your hole with his finger. the sensation is too much, and you try your best to keep your screams in, knowing that your entire friend group is a mere yards away, likely sleeping off their hangovers that were bound to appear.

you come, then, your legs shaking in his arms as he continues to lick through your orgasm. as your breathing becomes sporadic and heavy, he peels off, running his hands down the sides of your body to calm you down — and warm you up.

your shaking doesn’t stop, and you’re almost certain its due to the fact that the temperatures have dropped since you and him became preoccupied, but there’s no point in going inside now.

“how you feelin’, baby?” he asks, spooning you against his chest as you lay on the blanket. “you’re shivering. do you wanna go inside? we can finish this in my room, if you want,” he continues, stroking your arms tenderly in his grip.

“need you inside me, now,” you mewl, not fully able to find your words. you were gonna finish what you started.

“you sure?” he whispers, and you can feel his heart beating faster — and his shorts growing tighter — behind your back.

“tias, i can feel you. you want this as bad as i do,” you half-argue back.

“i don’t have a condom or anything; are you sure it’s fine?” he implores.

“oh my god, mattias, please just fuck me already,” you whine, begging him for more.

and with that, he’s rolling you over, pinning you to the sheet, the warmth of his body caging you in.

he begins kissing you again, his movements slow and soft, savoring the moment, all while simultaneously thrusting down onto you, trying to get some kind of friction going. you reach down between your bodies, untying the strings of the bright red shorts he’s wearing. you fidget with the waistband, and he lets out another groan.

“go for it,” he confirms, panting into your ear, and you tug them down just enough for his cock to bob free. he shuffles them off, discarding them with the previous pile of clothes, and you look down between you two. he was right, it was big. you begin calculating in your head how he was going to make it work, suddenly growing desperate to find out.

“told you,” he says, with that stupid smirk back on his face. you let out an exasperated laugh, catching his chains in between your teeth. it’s his turn to laugh now.

he pumps himself a few times, although he definitely didn't need to, adjusting himself in order to line himself up with your entrance. he glides his cock through your folds, and you arch up into him. he uses that opportunity to grab onto your back, keeping you flush with his body again.

he finally pushes in, and the stretch of him is almost mindnumbing.

“holy shit,” is all you can muster, as he bottoms out and readjusts himself to get the right angle. he begins slowly rocking in and out, not quite fully pushing all the way back in, and you can tell that he thinks you can’t take it.

you moan his name, signalling for him to pick up speed. the sounds of your bodies mixing together are most definitely echoing through the air, and you hope and pray that none of your neighbors have decided to go for an early morning jog.

he finds his rhythm, picking up your left leg and hooking it over his hip. this angle is heavenly, and you can tell it feels good for him, too, because another throaty groan escapes his lips.

“so tight, holy fuck. you like that, baby?,” he asks, planting kisses across your chest and neck, leaving plenty of marks in his wake.

“yes, oh my god, ti,” you squeak, the feeling of his thrusts interrupting your ability to speak in full sentences.

you can feel him getting closer, judging by the way his cock twitches inside you.

“where do you want me, sweetheart?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means.

“anywhere. just not in,” you reply, your paranoia suddenly taking over.

he complies, pulling out. the loss of contact makes you wince, but he leans back on his heels, jerking himself off over you. your hand reaches down between your thighs, rubbing your own clit, until he swats it away, replacing it with his own free hand. the image of the large, muscular body in front of you, doing what he’s doing, is enough to send you to your second orgasm of the night. you come, quickly, nothing but smalls gasps escaping your lips. this is enough for him, and he spills, painting your chest with his seed.

you can’t help but grab for your own breast, lightly rubbing it into your skin. mattias is still straddling you, his own breathing trying to recover.

“i wish i could take a picture right now,” he says. “this is the hottest thing i’ve seen in my life. you’re so perfect, oh my god.” he’s panting.

“why don’t you?” you ask, motioning toward his long-abandoned phone on the blanket next to you both. his eyes grow wide, as if he was certain that he had misheard you, until you quip, “seriously, go for it. something to think about on your roadies. consider it a gift,” you tease, and he scrambles to grab his phone. he turns it on, the time now reading 4:38 am. the sun is just barely starting to peak over the water, the sky now a pale purple, like something out of a national geographic magazine.

he swipes to the camera app, lining you up in the frame, your come-covered tits prominately centered in the middle, the breaking of dawn just barely visible behind you. you hear the camera click, and you let out an exasperated giggle. leaning up, you wrap your hands around his neck, and he pulls you close.

“it’s fucking freezing out here,” you complain, your shivering suddenly returning to your body.

“i know, i hid your sweatshirt under the blanket about 2 hours ago,” mattias reveals, and you smack him lightly on the back of the head. he reaches over, lifting up the corner of the sheet, revealing the old sweatshirt, shaking the sand out of it. he uses the old sheet to clean you up quickly, then helps you place the sweatshirt on, planting a sweet kiss to your lips as your head pops out the top.

“we should definitely head in now,” you say, standing up from your place in his lap. reaching for your bikini bottoms and loosely retying them to your hips, you then throw his shorts and shirt playfully against his chest, and he quickly and haphazardly put them back on. he continues to hold on to your top, and he grabs your hand as you make your way back up the dune, up to his house that is all too quiet now.

you walk through the gate, pausing at the sliding glass door, turning to face him.

“we should talk about this, later,” you say, scared of what he might say next. he looks down at you, his height suddenly overwhelming you.

“later is good, yeah. let’s just savor it for now, okay?” he suggests, and you wonder if he truly means it. your friends would surely catch on, and you have no clue how to go about that awkward conversation, even though, unbeknownst to the both of you, the group had been placing bets for years now about how long it would take for you two to break. anna was about to be $1,000 richer.

with that, you two quietly open the sliding glass door, both cringing slightly at the chime of the alarm system that notifies when doors are opened and closed. he leads you up the stairs, daring to not make any extra noise, when he stops at his bedroom door, your shared guest room that housed the 3 other sleeping girls just 2 doors down.

“stay with me, please?” he begs, and his eyes soften. he reaches up to rub his left eye with his finger, a nervous tic of his that never goes unnoticed from you.

“of course,” you whisper, and you let him lead you through to his room.

you make your way to his bed, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants that had been thrown lazily on the floor, replacing your bikini bottoms with them, the small article joining the pile next to you. he climbs up onto the bed with you, a fresh pair of boxer briefs now on his body. he pulls you close, taking in the scent of your hair — the salt of the ocean, now mixed with his cologne — and he lets out what sounds like the largest sigh of relief of his life.

you once again feel his heartbeat against your chest, this time, the steadiness, mixed with his rhythmic breathing, lulls you into sleep.

this wasn’t the first time you two had shared a bed, but it was different, this time. as you drift off, you hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time you fell asleep with him holding you like this.

#mattias samuelsson #mattias samuelsson x reader #mattias samuelsson smut #nhl x reader #nhl smut #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction

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w1ngedsoul · 2 years ago

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hi can you do headcanons on dating elijah mikaelson tvd x fem reader

This man is so polite.

Holding doors, helping you sit down, constantly asking you if you're alright or if you want to leave a party/random event.

He always makes you text him so that he knows you got home safe when he can't walk you home.

Flowers, jewellery, teddy bears. This man is amazing at gift giving, he quite literally knows you inside and out.

If you're curvy, then he'll love to hold onto your hips while kissing your neck.

If you're religious, he'll want to be as educated as possible. For example, if you're Jewish, he'll support you fully when you tell him you don't celebrate Christmas.

He'd practically internally scream watching you wear the clothes he buys you.

He wouldn't be able to keep he hands off of you.

"You look irresistible, darling. But, I'm afraid you would look far more stunning with that dress on the floor."

He knows exactly what to say in every conversation.

He has such a way with words that can either have you on your knees or crying on his shoulder.

He face was absolutely priceless when he told you he wanted to introduce you to his favourite classical pieces and you already knew all of them, in fact, you had a playlist full of classical.

Every Sunday morning from 11am-2pm, you'll sit in your living room with books in your hands, taking it in turns to read to each other.

Date night is something that Elijah takes very seriously. He'll take you to the finest, romantic restaurants and be an absolute gentlemen throughout the whole night.

And at the end of the night, when you've arrived home and you just placed the keys into the trinket, you'll hear a sharp whisper next to your ear.

"Undress."

Something he loves doing, is taking you to the theatre and watching a pantomime. He knows you used to watch them throughout your childhood but stopped as you grew older, he felt as if you should stay connected to those calming memories.

He's honestly the most loving boyfriend you've ever had, he'll remember all of the little things such as what your favourite song is to the perfume you wear only on special occasions.

He also remembers every detail about you, I mean that literally. Everything you've ever told him about yourself is ingrained in his brain, from the mean boy in primary school to graduating university.

He doesn't know why or how, but he's a lover for candlelit baths. Whenever he's stressed about a sibling or something came up at work, you'll run him a hot bath with candles surrounding the bathroom. Usually you'll put on sensual music in the background, but for most of the time he enjoys the silence.

Speaking of work, he actually has a job. Even though he's a vampire and doesn't necessarily need one, he wants to be as connected to a human life as possible. His siblings shamed him for it, claiming it was 'pathetic' of him and he should 'own his species'.

You supported him fully and he was forever grateful, he got a job in business which he's managed to keep for a good five years and so far, everything's gone well for him. He's the manager at his company and trains new employees daily, you've honestly never been prouder.

But, there are times where you let his mind slip when he's at work...

"You sent me pictures of you posing in lingerie in front of our mirror, while I was in a meeting."

"Did you like them? I made sure to wear your favourite colour."

You two don't keep anything from each other, you're always honest with one another which is what makes your relationship so strong.

"Hey J? Do you want to hear more about my aunt's aff-"

"Tell me."

J was a nickname you picked up randomly when you first met, it stuck ever since.

Once, when you two were talking about hobbies, you mentioned your grandmother taught you how to knit and crochet.

From that day forward, Elijah bought a ton of crochet tools and pulled up YouTube tutorials every evening practicing.

Then when your anniversary rolled around, he presented you with a bouquet of perfectly crocheted flowers.

"Do you like them, darling?"

Something that Elijah tries to keep hidden: he gets jealous so easily.

If there's someone staring at you with the wrong look in their eyes, Elijah will make sure they won't have eyes to look out of by the end of the hour.

Or if someone asks for your number, he'll make sure to introduce himself, and maybe introduce them to his newest spiked bat...

He's not really one for torturing people, but when it's necessary like when you're in danger he'll go through hell and back to make sure you're untouched.

He'd kill for you, even his siblings if it came to it.

He would quite literally die for you, he even told you this when you were gazing at the stars.

"You know, even though you have made this life wondrous in so many ways, I'd let the world take me just so you'd be safe."

#elijah mikealson imagine #tvd universe #elijah mikaelson #elijah x reader #elijah #tvd elijah #tvd #elijah headcanons

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museofpangolins · 1 year ago

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sooo here's my top 10 most Good Omens-coded Hozier songs

10) Jackie and Wilson

this one isn't super deep, I think it just gives off that vibe of fun adventures together that mostly the first season had. also, this line

9) Swan upon Leda

this is a song that through religious metaphors captures the brutality of human nature in a way that's so beautiful and poetic. this one isn't so specific, but in my opinion it conveys some of the feeling of the story as a whole

8) Eat your young

I find it insane how it's possible for someone to sing about the exploitation of the innocent in such an incredible way. in this case it can be read about how the authorities (heaven and hell) are only driven by their personal goals and are using humans as a way to achieve them. it's even more literal in Job's story, with angels having no clue on how much his children mean to him and being completely uninterested on the matter, because they're too busy following God's plan.

7) Work Song

here things are starting to get a bit more specific. Work Song talks about a love that goes beyond the grave, but also a love that's so unconditional it goes beyond every human or religious imposition

6) Francesca

Hozier takes inspiration for this song from the tale told by Dante about two lovers condemned to damnation in hell, but the main aspect he uses for this song is the idea of it being worth it in order to be with the loved one, even at the cost of giving up a place of comfort and security. which is also what I hope will happen in season 3.

5) All Things End

I'm so sorry for this one. I'm really sorry. but I swear it's the only thing that could come to my mind when I saw this scene

I won't elaborate more because otherwise I'm going to cry.

4) Unknown/nth

i can't believe this song isn't officially about the two of them. I mean:

you mean mr Hozier didn't intentionally release it last month in honor of Aziraphale and Crowley?? sounds fake but ok

3) Take me to Church

religious trauma. questioning Christian values at its FINEST. love for humanity and for what being human means. all while discussing love and how religion ties it to the concept of sin.

2) Like Real People Do

absolute season two anthem. I think the whole point of Aziraphale and Crowley's characters is finding humanity in themselves, going beyond their angelic/demonic nature and whatever is expected from it. they're neither heaven nor hell's side, but on a completely different one that allows them to live in their own personal identity while often aligning with the interest of humans. that's why even their love for each other is an expression of how close to real people they've become.

1) From Eden

what can I say? it's just so perfect. just one song to summarize every important aspect of the story.

the familiarity derives from the previous angelic nature of Crowley. the destruction of idealism, chivalry and innocence symbolizes the disillusionment with heaven and hell, and the final line how the only hope can be found in the human world, but also, much like Francesca, the idea of giving up safety to be with the loved one. in this case though this is depicted with the use of religious imagery, specifically the garden of Eden. Therefore my hope is that this could be interpreted even more literally once in season three Aziraphale will give up heaven for Crowley. there are many other things that could be said about this song, and I really really hope it will be included in the soundtrack of the show.

if you read all of this, thank you so much, and please let me know if there are songs I didn't include

#good omens #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens s2 spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #crowly x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #hozier #wasteland baby #unreal unearth #neil gaiman

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betterthanbatman1 · 2 years ago

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give me all the tim drake headcanons PLEASE

I knew my list of headcannons would come in handy some day!! :)

Comfort king, he literally has more pillow than bed, squishmallows are the key to his heart. He has so many blankets, fluffy, soft and of course weighted because yk anxious boi.

He can also sleep anywhere, whether it’s an armchair, someone’s lap, at his desk/batcomputer. Anywhere. Hell, he canonically fell asleep on a roller coaster!

Loves K-pop. Loves the Korean culture, language etc etc

Follows 5 minute crafts religiously. Smudge on the wall? Put toothpaste on it! Phone fell on his face? Glue it to your hand!! Problem solved. Alfred considers consulting a therapist.

Loves sushi, it’s practically his favourite food.

Doesn’t have a good food pallet tho. Jason once walked in the pantry and found Tim eating a bread sandwich (three slices of bread stacked) Jason has still not recovered from that.

Surprisingly has a good sense of humour. (After hours of Meme searching) he can always come up with a ‘that reminds me of a joke’ in any scenario. Dick and Duke laugh at every one of them, the rest sigh and roll their eyes at this point. He also tends to use sarcasm.

Tech genius? Boring. How about won the Sims game. How do you even win that game? Nobody knows. But Tim was emailed by the ceo of the game, telling him he won and was offered a spot in games designs. He declined :/ bc WE has more benefits.

Hacked and removed himself from the FBIs wanted list

Collected sticks when he was younger and gave one to people he loves. (as mentioned in my answer to previous Ask about BatKid collections)

Memorised every word to every song on High School Musical

Once travelled to Scotland for a special perfume that only delivers to Scotland. He came back the next morning and no one noticed.

Once had a job as a professional photographer and was really good at it. Accidentally photographed the wrong person who was head of a criminal organisation. He was fired for exposing the corruption bc ✨Gotham✨. He took them down later that night as Red Robin. Now peruses photography as a hobby.

Tried to make popcorn in the oven because what? Ovens are like microwaves that don’t spin right? Almost burned the manor down and has a lifetime ban from cooking. Though you could argue making popcorn is not cooking

Is lactose intolerant

Drinks strawberry milk anyway (it’s his favourite)

Once choked on a cranberry so is now banned from eating cranberries. Alfred will cut the cranberries in half if Tim is so desperate to have some.

Face-planted in front of Wayne Enterprise CEO & ambassadors on his way to his first meeting

When he’s happy and having a good day he’ll smile constantly. Not a casual hey how you doin kind of smile, but a I’m glad I’m here with you kind of smile. (Young Justice members have seen this the most and it puts them all in a good mood)

He has a huge heart and cares so much about the well-being of others probably more than he cares about himself. He may not physically show it how Dick does, but he’ll send his family memes or pictures of baby animals or of their special interests when he feels something is off or that they are upset. They always appreciate it.

#This is all I have so far :D #hope you like them!#Tim is an idiot but we love him for it #back on my Tim loving HSM bullshit #I’ve seen too much of Tim’s only personality being coffee anxiety and tech #so I tried to change it up a bit #batfamily #batfam #tim drake #red robin #thanks for the asks!#feel free to send more asks people

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mxharleyhua · 1 year ago

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Harley Hua ~ Task Thirteen: Short and Sweet

What is your favorite book from childhood? I was just talking to Elliot about this the other day, but I loved Watchmen. I know it's not really for children, but my parents didn't. I also had a more age-appropriate book I loved, because the art was so beautiful in it. I remember it took place in the woods, but not what it was called or what the plot was. But it was so detailed, and colorful, and had a unique art style.

Do you own an item that comforts you when you’re sad? Do my art supplies count?

What makes you happy? I seem to have a one-track mind tonight but after a long day I love to go home, take off my cochlear implants, light a candle, and spend hours painting. I do my best work in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep. What are three things you like about yourself? I like almost everything about myself. That sounds like a cop-out, but it took me a really long time to learn self confidence. So maybe that's the first thing I like - that I'm a confident person. I also like the discipline I have to eat right and work out every day so that I can have the body I always dreamed of. And I love my sense of fashion. It's so much fun to dress up for all the events we have here in Merrock.

Which season is your favorite? Summer, easily! I love the heat, getting to spend a lot of my free time at the beach, and how much brighter everything feels; literally and emotionally.

Do you believe in the supernatural? What are we defining as supernatural? Ghosts and witches? Or are more religious symbols such as Gods, angels and demons also supernatural? Being raised both Jewish and Chinese, I got a lot of mixed messages as a kid. Parts of my Chinese culture are clearly against Jewish law. But I didn't grow up orthodox, so I've always taken it with a grain of salt on both sides anyways. I was generally discouraged from things like magic, or ghosts and demons, unless it was coming from a Chinese family member. I think my parents disagreed with how to raise us in that regard and tried to compromise, but it just made any of it being taboo feel nonsensical. Anyways, both cultures say not to mess with ghosts but I really want to go ghost hunting one day. Name a song that has a deeper meaning to you You've activated my Deaf card. What do you think about social media? I think it's great! Obviously, there are some drawbacks. But it allows people to connect in a way we couldn't have just a couple decades ago, and connects vulnerable people to resources that they need. How many queer communities have thrived on websites like tumblr? I remember being a teenager and seeing people like myself online when I didn't know there was anyone else like me in Merrock. It was lifechanging! What would be your dream job? Illustrator. Specifically, illustrating comic books but I also really want to do childrens books too. Name three things you don’t leave the house without My keys, obviously. And my phone. Normally I have my wallet or my cochlear implants on me, but not always. With so many places having tap-to-pay now, you really only need those two things. What is your favorite comfort food? My grandma is an amazing cook and she does this delicious lamb hot pot. It's a good thing she lives so far away, because I could not stick to my nutrition goals if I had the opportunity to eat that every week. Are you an active person? / What do you do to stay active? Is water wet? Technically not, but that's not the point. When I'm not painting or instructing a class, I'm almost always on the move. I try to spend two hours at the gym every day, although that's not always realistic with my busy schedule. I get a lot of steps in, walking around and giving tours at From Brush to Canvas. And I grew up doing gymnastics and cheerleading and try to practice so I don't lose my ability to do some of those stunts. Even as I've transitioned, I've managed to keep a lot of the flexibility I grew up with. I also live in the ocean in the summer, whether I'm surfing or swimming. Name your three biggest inspirations (people-wise) My brother and my grandma are easily my first two. Leaving my family for the third one, I think Gerda Wegener was amazing and pushed boundaries on sexuality and gender with her art in a way I really admire. What is currently your favorite airing show? I don't watch a lot of TV. When I'm at home, I like to take off my cochlear implants and enjoy the silence. And after a long day, the last thing I want to do is read captions for an hour straight. But I'm really excited for Echo to come out in a couple months. If you had to go anywhere right now, where would you go? If I had to? A warm, tropical beach that has complimentary cocktails and crystal-clear water.

#merrocktask #(task 013.)#(about.)

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gyldowen-draws · 2 years ago

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What's this? A Rhys playlist? On MY blog? It's more likely than you think!

Music has always been a huge inspiration for my writing and my art, so I wanted to share some of the songs that match Rhys' Vibe™️

I would absolutely love any recommendations for songs that would fit my dearest bastard! Please, please, please send them my way ^.^

Analysis under the cut!

(Just a note: I make a lot of references to Rhys' backstory so if you'd like some context, it's in his ref sheet!)

Fake Your Death: First of all, this is a 10/10 great song all by itself. From the driving drums and piano to the melancholy yet determined delivery of the excellent lyrics, it perfectly captures Rhys' life, always having to move from job to job and literally having to fake his death a couple of times. Some lines that really stick out are, "But even good guys still get paid", "I choose defeat/ I walk away/ and leave this place the same today" and "Just look at all that pain" but honestly every line could accurately describe Rhys and his feelings. If I had to chose one song to represent my boy Rhys, this would be it. Thank you Mr. Way for my life.

Dance on a Volcano: This amazing and energetic song is just a perfect metaphor for Rhys' entire life: in a dangerous situation all alone, not knowing exactly what to do, not able to look back, having to keep moving forward no matter what, the need to get it right. Plus the flame/lava imagery is just perfect for my fire mage. The line "Out of the night and out of the dark/ Into the fire and into the fight/ Well that's where all the heroes go" is just *chef's kiss* perfection. Additionally the line "Whatever you do/ you'd better start doing it right" was the inspiration for the title of my fic series about Rhys and Yor!

This is Gospel: Another great song that captures more of Rhys' internal drive for freedom and fear of vulnerability. And the song's inversion of religious gospel connects to Rhys' background growing up in the Cult of Miriar. To top it all off, he's definitely an "insufferable bastard", so this song's for him!

Dukes Up: This song perfectly encapsulates how Rhys' solution to every problem is violence. Plus it has a rawness to it that fits Rhys perfectly. Short, gritty, and full of raw anger. Just like Rhys!

Training Montage: To me, this song fits Rhys' time in the prison camp and when he decided to give up his life as a con man to become a full-time mercenary instead. The absolute determination in this song is amazingly accurate to how he puts his mind to things. Also the chorus is an incredible representation of his motivations in life. He wants to live in a way that goes entirely against what he was taught in the Cult, a revenge for his childhood. His main goal is to stay true to himself, but he's still figuring out who he is. He feels incredible guilt for killing some of his fellow Vessels and leaving them all behind in the Cult. Most of all, everything he does is for his younger self.

Thus Always to Tyrants: A great Rhys and Yor song! I love how it comes out strong with the lines "Let me die, let me drown/ Leave my bones in the ground", a very Rhys thing. It also does a wonderful job of contrasting the demands at the beginning with the questions at the end of the song, representing these two head-strong men coming together and trying to work out a relationship when neither really knows what they're doing. Also, the line "learn to love without consuming" is just so perfect for their relationship.

Like Real People Do: Absolutely gorgeous song! This is THE Rhys and Yor song. Everything about this song is perfectly accurate. From the understanding that they are both deeply haunted by their pasts to the respect that comes with not wanting to dredge up what is better kept hidden, the lyrics embody Yor's perspective on his budding relationship with the cagey Rhys. The idea that they can both put aside their hurts to find their humanity together through their love is so poignant and beautiful!

Wolves of the Revolution: This song represents a young Rhys, who - freshly escaped from the Cult of Miriar - discovers that the world outside his village is nearly as dangerous and unjust as the hell he just came from. The lines that really stick out are "There was blood in the air/ I was on all fours/ screaming life isn't fair", "born young and wild/ don't let them cut your tail" and "Just a pinch of salt in the wound/ you'll be fine". The soft, melancholy air of the entire song fits the struggles young Rhys faced as he navigated his new freedom all alone.

All These Things That I've Done: It's no secret, Rhys is an absolute bastard who has done plenty of questionable things over the course of his long life, but he still desires validation and understanding like any other person. The almost plaintive yet determined quality to the delivery of the lyrics fits Rhys in this context perfectly. With lines like "I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand", "I'm so much older than I can take", "These changes ain't changing me/ the cold-hearted boy I used to be", and "You know, you know - no you don't, you don't", this song provides a great window into Rhys' psyche. Can he find acceptance in himself and others for all the things he's done?

#Spotify #playlist #oc playlist #elf oc #rhys vanwenys #i know i wrote a lot #but in my defense i just have a lot of Thoughts about my boy

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wtftarot · 3 years ago

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PAC Reading: The Hierophant

The Hierophant is about morality, conformity, and spirituality in a more traditional sense. They talk about seeking or giving guidance. Staying on the path and grounding yourself. I think The Hierophant gets overlooked a bit, cause they seem boring or Religious. Some people don't realize they are just as important and spiritual as the High Priestess. I like to think of them as the more grounded, physical esoteric. Spiritual mentors, divining tools, books, etc. Just as spiritual as the High Priestess but less cloaked and hidden, less mysterious. They are more direct, and straightforward. So, let's see what they have to say for you.

*tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only and should not be used in place of professional advice in any capacity. Use common sense and don't be a dumbass.

Pick the Crown, the Keys, or the Scepter and head to your reading.

Ok, y'all literally got the Hierophant in reverse. So, this should be interesting. Y'all seem to be avoiding your heart space. Avoiding your deeper emotions and thoughts. You are focusing your energy outward instead of going inward. Looking outside of yourself for meaning and validation. I'm getting the sense that y'all are wanting to be more intuitive and spiritual but are only doing things externally to achieve that. You may be buying crystal after crystal or going to spiritual events, I'm hearing. But you are avoiding the internal parts of this, like meditation and personal growth. It's like y'all are comfortable with the like Known-Unknown but won't let yourself go deeper into the Unknown-Unknown. It's like you'll go a bit deeper than the surface with things but you won't let yourself go much deeper than that because you're scared of those depths. I'm hearing 'I'm not scared', honey, I think ya are. That's okay though. Being scared isn't the problem, letting it hold you back is. You keep wondering why your not getting anywhere with these things when if you want any real results you're gonna have to dig deeper. I keep seeing this image of someone running around a field at twilight. It's a beautiful image but you're keeping yourself in that twilight, you're past the daylight but never reaching true night. I'm getting the sense that y'all keep putting off going deeper with yourselves. Y'all Closer to the Heart by Rush just started playing on the radio, which is so perfect for y'all. The song is about how if we want a better world, we all have to listen to our hearts and do our part. You can't do it if you're always running from yourself. The Hierophant is coming to say basically, shit or get off the pot. I think you're fooling yourself a bit in that you think you're not scared and that you're not running from yourself. Honey, we all run from ourselves at some point in life. I know I have and I'm not judging you for it. For some people, it's burying themselves in fiction and fantasy. Some of its substances. Some people bury their heads in being 'normal' and going to a job they hate. Some people do it by burying their heads in being 'weird'. For some people it's sports. Basically, anything that can be used to avoid sitting with yourself and learning about who you really are, people will use it for that. We are all insanely afraid of the unknown and to know that we can have unknown parts of ourselves is terrifying to most. Some of it isn't even scary or emotional. Like ok, one thing that I didn't know about myself is I love to cook and I'm pretty good at it. I never knew because I just ate whatever was cheap, quick, available, and easy. As I was learning to listen to myself more it hit me that I didn't even like most of the food I was eating, it was just easy. So I looked up some (cheap) recipes and found a few that I like. Now? I can make a whole ass blueberry pie from scratch! And I'm damn proud of myself. You never know what you've got inside you until you stop and listen to what your heart's saying.

Random ass vibes: 44, cigarette smoke, motel rooms, fish, jack? Virgo, Pisces,

The Keys

Wow, y'all and the first group both got the Hierophant in reverse and I'm using a different deck for y'all. Y'all seem to be locked on this one idea or perspective. It's interesting, this perspective is an unusual one. I think y'all may be very into things like tarot, spiritual things, witchcraft, etc. And y'all are SO focused inwardly on the more intangible side of life that you are missing the solid, tangible side. Y'all are so in your own head. I'm getting this image of someone who keeps asking for a sign but they're daydreaming when the sign comes and they're so annoyed at having their daydream interrupted that they can't even recognize the sign for what it is. Y'all may be missing awesome things happening externally because you're so damn focused on what's happening in your head. Y'all also seem to be holding on to a lot. Y'all are holding everything in and not letting anything out. It's like everything you do has to be hidden and kept close to your chest. Having things you keep private isn't a bad thing but for you, it's gotten to the point where you won't do anything in case somehow someone will find out. For example, maybe you want to be a writer but you never write because someone might find your notebook. So, all these things just stay in your head. For those of you who are trying to work with more intuitive or esoteric things, y'all are doing good on the inner work but are neglecting the outer work in a way. There's quite a bit here about not seeing things as they are or not seeing how something will affect things later. So, I don't think y'all are seeing the eventual outcomes of always being in your head. Never dealing with reality. Sweetheart, you can never have the life you want if you keep avoiding the life you have. You don't have to deal with everything at once, but you do need to poke your head out of the sand every once in a while. The Hierophant is here asking y'all to take some time to get out of your head. Take a break from your daydreams, they'll still be there when you come back to them. Do something that helps you focus on the physical world. Preferably something that's not a screen. I'm serious. Y'all need to ground yourselves. Take a walk in nature and listen. Go dancing and really feel the music. Make something with clay. Doodle. Bake some bread. Anything that makes you feel connected with yourself and the world around you. HA, I just heard 'that's boring' or 'that shit's boring'. Bless your heart. So, endlessly scrolling while watching tv is better then? Mmk. There's this urgency that I'm seeing around y'all missing out on messages and omens and I think that's why this is really being pushed. Y'all are keeping yourselves from getting farther with the things you want because you want to focus on fantasizing about them. OH, Runnin' Down a Dream by Tom Petty just came on. Ooh, I like that. Ok, y'all should look up the lyrics if you don't know that song but the ones that are jumping out to me for this reading are: Yeah, runnin' down a dream that would never come to me, workin' on a mystery, going; wherever it leads, runnin' down a dream; and I rolled on, the sky grew dark, I put the pedal down to make some time, there's something good waiting down this road, I'm picking up whatever's mine. Y'all seem to think your life is boring but don't realize that you have the power to make it more interesting? Honey, if you want more interesting things to do, you actually have to go find them. NO HOLD UP. NO FUCKING WAY. SIGNS BY FIVE MAN ELECTRICAL BAND IS FUCKING PLAYING Y'ALL GOT NOT ONE BUT TWO SONGS AND ONE IS TITLED SIGNS?? This is awesome. Y'all still think you're not getting any fucking signs?? You are but you're soo focused on your inner world. Y'all NEED to ground your ideas in reality, fuckin seriously. Y'all could do some seriously awesome things if you could get those ideas out of your head.

Random ass vibes: Sagittarius, 444, staring out a rainy window, crop circles? Capricorn, yellow flowers, moths. rice,

The Scepter

So, I think this group's reading will be shorter. Sorry, but it's very clear and I'm not getting that much about your situation. I'm just getting advice for some reason. There is something in your past you need to revisit or look at from a different perspective. Not like revisiting bad memories. Revisit who you were and what you enjoyed. For some of you, it's because you need to embrace more of a child-like joy and doing things that you did or wanted to do as a child will help with that. Y'all are so overwhelmed and so tired. You need to be reminded that you are still capable of that sort of joy. You are. For the rest of you, it's because you're not sure of what you want or where you're going. Revisiting things from your childhood can remind you of passion or some interest that you had as a kid that you may want to pursue now. There may be a thread of related interests your whole life that are all kinda connected to one career. Like, say you were into scuba diving at 14, astronomy at 11, and aircrafts at 8. Random, right? Now, what career has parts of all of those? Astronaut. That's a weird example but you get my point. All of y'all seem to think looking back means GOING back. It doesn't. Think about it like when you have to back up a car to get out of a parking spot. Well, okay I guess that is actually going back. But you were parked, you weren't going anywhere. Whatever. My point is sometimes you have to look back to help you move forward. I'm sorry its so fucking short. I tried pulling more cards for y'all but they just repeated the same message in a different way.

random ass vibes: new years, the twilight zone, cartoons, Taurus, Leo, spilled drinks? water.

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reallyexists · 2 years ago

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Recently I’ve been watching some religious programming.

Specifically, the sitcoms Father Ted (1995) and The Vicar of Dibley (1994). The former is a somewhat cynical Catholic affair, a tightly-written masterpiece of the medium that’s the funniest one I’ve seen in a long time. It follows a trio of priests who are all terrible at their job, living on a desolate island off the coast of Ireland. Along with their housekeeper, they attempt to deal with their many problems (often of their own making) and strive in vain to better their dismal lives.

Vicar, meanwhile, is a generally-cute little Anglican-flavored show that follows a rural English town’s first female Vicar as she tries (successfully) to shake things up and improve the community, often butting heads with the conservative parish council chairman.

The biggest difference in these two blessed shows is one of craft, I think. Father Ted is just much, much better-written and planned-out. By episode two of Father Ted every character’s traits are pretty firmly established, and by the middle of season 1 they’re getting laughs by subverting running gags.

Vicar, meanwhile, really struggles with characterization. Throughout the first season various characters will try out a joke for an episode (each character is afforded approximately one personal joke), only to abandon it by the next episode.

Vicar of Dibley also flirts with sincerity a lot more than Father Ted. Infinitely more often, in fact, since the majority of Catholic Priests depicted in Ted (which also happen to be the majority of the cast) are, humorously, not particularly religious. Dibley has only one Vicar and she might have a poster of Mel Gibson next to her framed picture of The Lord but damn it, she still loves Jesus.

Performance-wise, Father Ted is the clear winner. All of the cast do a good job in Vicar of Dibley (with a few standouts, including the lead, Dawn French of French & Saunders), but literally every performance in Father Ted is stellar. Each of the leads are individually hilarious and give it their all every time they’re on screen. Particularly Pauline McLynn as the housekeeper Mrs. Doyle-- whenever she gets the spotlight she really milks it for all it’s worth, to amazing effect.

Both shows ran for a similar number of episodes, but Ted’s seasons were consecutive-- Vicar had pretty long breaks in between. Everybody involved with Father Ted agreed that it had run its course at the end of season 3, and so they went out on a high note. High, that is, excepting the tragic death of star Dermot Morgan while the final season was still airing. Anyway, it’s a legacy anyone would be proud of.

Oh, and Father Ted was co-created & co-written by notorious arch-TERF Graham Linehan, albeit before the apparent psychotic break he suffered after having a subsequent show which was entirely his baby criticized. So, there’s that.

All in all, Father Ted is must-watch television and apparently a gateway to understanding Irish culture. The scripts of all 25 episodes of Father Ted, I am told, comprise the text of the Irish Bill of Rights! Vicar of Dibley is also a show that you can watch, and is fine. Final scores:

FATHER TED:

parishioners (global) - 1.36 Billion with a “B”

good jokes - 999

problematic episodes - ~1 (not including the one about racism)

future Doctors Who - none, probably

beautiful songs - 3, exactly

THE VICAR OF DIBLEY:

parishioners (global) - 85 Million

good jokes - 5

problematic episodes - 0 (so far!)

future Doctors Who - Peter Capaldi

beautiful songs - approximately 2, both sung by a swarthy farmer

Anyway, I decided to do blogging again I guess. The filthy posts from 2016 & previous are kept for posterity but please do not look at them with your eyes. Also I might remove Beardman from his place of undue prominence.

#Father Ted #The Vicar of Dibley #Media Analysis #I guess is what this is #I didn't know anglicanism was that popular #good for them #I hope Ardal O'Hanlon lives to receive his due as the next Doctor #Ok that is enough tags

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gretagerwigsmuse · 2 years ago

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oh my god hi hi! thank you thank you thank you!!! i'm sorry i took SO long to respond to this (i literally would just read your comments over and over again and get all fuzzy and warm and then just not reply 🤦🏼‍♀️). and to be completely honest i still don't entirely know where to start, but i'll damn near try my best!

"angsty and cozy read" is definitely the vibe i was going for with this one! i really just like exploring the fact that she's fallible and sometimes has less than perfect thoughts and same with bradley? they're both human and make mistakes, but at the end of the day they just love each other so much that you know they'll be able to get through it? i tried to reply in order, but tbh it's kind of messy so 1000 apologies if it's confusing lol -

bradley cooking is also my favorite literary genre and i try and bring it up every chance i get it. and i like that they both know she isn't very good at cooking, but they both still do it together? i have to think of what she's going to make for him when he gets home (to her 😊), but she's def gonna make those cookies of carole's again, especially since she didn't burn them.

eeep yes! bradley does always ground her with his physical presence and she knows she's spiraling and being a little ridiculous and bradley lets her - to a point. he knows she's freaking out about the bar, so he makes her drink and let's her fix everything, while also putting everything he touched back exactly how it's supposed to be. and the whole thing with the perfume and cologne - like it's something that can ground both them while they're apart? and then the clothes and presents they get each other? i just think that's one of my favorite parts of writing them - all the little non-sexual intimacies between them?

the time measurement bit (it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant) was so fun to add in because like she knows she's not pregnant, knows it's not on her horizon, but she can't help but think about it in relation to bradley?

i'm glad you liked the surfing bit because it makes SO MUCH SENSE for bradley? like it's a solitary activity, you can personally reflect, and it's the closest opposite to being a pilot and flying all the time? plus bradley and max hmmmmm hmmmm?? 😉 i love writing their dynamic and giving bradley friends outside the squad/navy. max and caroline (max calling her "caro" lol) are mentioned in some other fics i'm working on too!

the home is a person, not a place thing really works so well for them and i'm glad you liked that aspect! i just think that since both of them do travel so much that they're each other's home base, wherever that ends up being? and her constantly being like 'it's bradley's house' but then mav being like 'it's your house as much as bradley's' and just having that validation of how much bradley does love and care for her from the person who has known him the longest was something i really wanted to highlight, especially since mav plays a HUGE part in another fic i'm writing for them!

bradley bradshaw is a blusher and he's ticklish and it's time we made that a big part of fics! he may be one of the navy's best assets, but get him in front of his girlfriend and he's just a big softie (wait till they have kids...). plus he saves wrapping paper and cards religiously, confirmed!

okay so i totally had a moment when i threw in the rocketman nickname because on her playlist for bradley, there's all these space related/adjacent songs and ofc one is rocket man and i just kept listening to it and it just works So Well on like fifty different levels. there's this line that always reminds me of bradley in this lil universe i created - it's just my job five days a week // a rocket man // a rocket man. i'm gonna to go into all this in another fic too (jordan finish your current ones before adding more smh) and i'm ready to emotionally devastate!

i really wanted them to talk about her worries at length, like not just her being tired, but everything about how she was feeling that evening. because it is a bit of uncharted territory for both of them (her obviously, but also bradley never really having anyone before to make saying goodbye so difficult) and i didn't want either of them to have doubts. because yeah they're both going to be sad, but they're going to come home to each other. and just that knowledge is something to propel them both i guess? idk

and yessss i could have made them really go at it under the christmas tree and have really kinky sex (i thought about it, truly), but it didn't feel right? i wanted it to be kind of slow and intimate and just deeper than what we normally see from them? like they can't get close enough to each other? so i'm glad you still liked it 😊 real and good and yours was one of my fave lines, so i'm glad you singled it out!

so i think i might do something with their emails to each other? after i post the gala fic (i stg it's coming!) i want to do one when he comes back from this deployment and you see them celebrate their first anniversary together (they go to mexico!!!), so i think i can work some of the emails into that!

anyway thank you so so so much for leaving such detailed comments! i appreciate it SO much and know how long it takes to do this, so it really means so much to me 💕

(christmas) baby please come home

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw and his girlfriend throw a christmas party, complete with a christmas tree, copious amounts of champagne, blended friend groups, and the true meaning of the word home

OR what do you do when your boyfriend gets deployed over christmas and he get you two christmas presents?

pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k

warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content

part of @notroosterbradshaw ‘s hello december challenge

masterlist and playlist

It was obvious that you knew how to throw a party.

Furthermore, it was obvious that none of your and Bradley’s friends - baring Max, but only because he had professional help - would ever be able to pull off a party of the same caliber as your Christmas party.

Subconsciously, you wanted your friends to be jealous of you and impressed with how well you and Bradley had pulled things off. It was, admittedly, such a vain and shallow thought - no, desire to want to be the best at this. At throwing parties.

The Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack was currently echoing throughout the downstairs on the Sonos, the twinkling jazz giving off a whimsical, yet sophisticated vibe, the Christmas tree looked stunning in the living room where it was covered in nearly three thousand white lights and countless ornaments, and the food that you and Bradley - but mainly Bradley - had spent all morning and last night preparing was laid out on festive serving dishes, complete with seasonally appropriate plates and napkins, perfectly folded in their napkin rings.

You had scoured San Diego county for the most gorgeous garland possible to serve as the centerpiece on the dining room table, the berries and pine cones in it perfectly matching the plates and napkins and serving dishes. You had vacuumed the hardwood floor twice and washed it once before everyone came over and knew you would do so again once everyone left, if only so you could casually say it’s fine, you can keep your shoes on, we’re washing the floor tomorrow anyway. The candles weren’t overpowering, there was soft lighting all throughout the house, and you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.

Because you wanted people to talk about it - the party. And to say did you see their bathroom? It was so clean, there weren’t any water spots on the faucet. The beef tenderloin appetizers were delicious, they had to have gotten the meat someplace special? No, definitely not Vons, maybe some local butcher in La Jolla? Aren’t they such a sweet couple? Such a good pair.

Because it had to be perfect.

All of it.

Because this was Bradley’s Christmas. His only Christmas that year. Nothing could go amiss. And you wanted everyone to be jealous of it, so much so that tonight would be equal to if not better than how they celebrated the actual holiday with their own families - in their own homes - on Christmas Day.

Because they weren’t going to be spending the holiday on a drafty aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific far from home like Bradley was.

And Bradley deserved the entire world and all the happiness he could possibly have. The way his face had lit up when you’d first suggested the party after he’d gotten his orders at the beginning of November would stick with you for months. You’d told him that everything would be perfect, that you would pack enough Christmas spirit and love and gifts and food into one evening that it would take the sting out of being away from home - being away from you - at Christmas. Even if for just one night.

The guests had all arrived, some promptly and some not-so-promptly, with you and Bradley greeting them all, telling them to help themselves to all the food and drinks they wanted. Apparently, Max had a surprise for later that you prayed was not him putting on a Santa suit. But the conversation and drinks were flowing with ease, despite the blending of your two friend groups for the first time.

It was a good party.

Except right now, it was your turn to be the jealous one.

You watched, enviously, as one of your work friends leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of prosecco in her hand, while the other gripped Jake Seresin’s bicep. The jealousy wasn’t because of Jake or any attention he may have been giving her, mind you.

(Because no, no - while you may no longer have had an intense hatred for Bradley’s nemesis cum friend, you still didn’t actively seek out his presence and you definitely didn’t want his attention - not for anything other than a great party as he left your - no, Bradley’s house later that night.)

No - you were jealous of her dress. Her gorgeous, deep garnet, midi-length, sleeveless dress. That looked absolutely stunning on her, though a touch too fancy for a Christmas party in South Park. She looked gorgeous, beautiful - statuesque.

You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms.

Weeks ago, back when the party was but a pipe dream, you’d been eyeing this absolutely adorable, sleeveless, mini-dress for the event. Like your friend’s dress, it probably erred on the side of slightly too fancy for a house party, but it had been so pretty and so perfect. It had sat in your cart online for at least two weeks - you just wanted to see if it would go on sale before you finally pulled the trigger.

Until Thanksgiving.

When you saw how unflattering your arms looked in the black cashmere tank you’d brought for dinner to your parents’ house. You thanked your past self for having the forethought to pack a cardigan, which didn’t come off until hours later after all your aunts and uncles and cousins had left and you were snuggled up in Bradley’s arms.

Maybe you should try the HIIT classes on your Peloton instead of all those beginner rides you were still doing with Cody? Or get arm weights? The girls who worked out in the front two rows of your pilates class swore by them. They barely needed any input from the instructor - they just knew how to move their bodies that way. Or maybe you could ask your parents for a higher Class Pass subscription for Christmas? It would give you something to focus on while Bradley was gone.

You hadn’t been this self conscious at the gala back in October and that dress was far more daring than anything you’d ever worn before; practically open back, with a risqué slit and a deep v neckline, to say nothing of what you had worn just for Bradley later that night.

So, why now? Why tonight when you were supposed to be enjoying this time with your boyfriend and all your friends before the holidays? Why tonight, when everything else was going so right, were you being bogged down by this insecurity in your own home - no, no, it was Bradley’s home, not yours.

Was it because he was leaving? And you didn’t want one of his last images of you for three months to be your arms in a too tight dress? Because that was so shallow and silly and ridiculous.

But what if it was true? Bradley was so pretty and handsome and charming and sweet, what if there was someone else on that boat that also thought he was pretty and handsome and charming and sweet? And you’d seen all the other aviators and naval personnel at that gala, they were stunning. What if Bradley thought that too - no, no, no. You weren’t going to focus on that for one of your last nights with him.

Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face.

Bradley loved you.

You were just being ridiculous and shallow and over dramatic and spiraling before he left. Bradley loved you, Bradley loved you. He loved you. He - was wrapping his arms around your waist.

“How’s it going?” His voice rumbled in your ear and you leaned back against him.

God, he was so strong and soft and warm and smelled so pretty all the time. You were going to miss him so much. You felt him fiddle with the bow tying your burgundy dress together and ducked your head.

“Good, just came to get a drink.” Which you had been doing - about three minutes ago. “And wanted to make sure everyone in here was all set.”

Bradley hummed and swayed you back and forth in his arms. “Look at you, hostess with the mostess - or however that goes. You want me to make you another drink?”

You nodded. “Please.”

You both had decided to set up the bar in the kitchen, while keeping the food in the dining room and the dessert in the sitting room for later. Hours ago, before you had even hopped in the shower, the bar had been painstakingly set up and organized. Now, it needed some work. You cursed yourself for not checking on it earlier in the evening - you couldn’t believe your guests had been serving themselves from this all night.

The glasses were no longer in neat rows, organized by type, the bowl with the limes was running dangerously low, and the caps to the liquor bottles and the champagne corks were scattered across the table. Without a second thought, you started organizing everything before Bradley could even get you a fresh glass.

You could tell he wanted to say something, but - at least for that moment - he just rubbed your back and then poured you another glass of champagne, making sure to put the bottle back properly. Meanwhile, you scooped up the stray corks and foil and other bottle caps and threw them in the garbage underneath the sink. You had enough time, maybe you could pop those dirty wine glasses in the empty dishwasher? Wait - there was a puddle of condensation underneath an open bottle of champagne. You frowned. Clearly, someone hadn’t put it back in the bucket. Who would do that? Didn’t they know to put it back exactly where -

“- You good?”

Bradley’s voice was so soft and reassuring and you couldn’t believe you’d soon be going without hearing it for months. Unable to wait another second, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, which he eagerly returned and you nuzzled his chest. Bradley’s shirt for the party was an exceptionally soft flannel in a solid navy color that you’d found on sale. He hated buying himself clothes, even more so spending a lot of money on them, but he always liked whatever you picked out for him.

Maybe you could buy him some new clothes while he was gone? By now, you knew what he liked and didn’t like - right down to the colors and fabric types. He needed some new undershirts - and socks. You nuzzled your face into his chest. He felt so warm and soft and smelled so good. You had to buy a travel sized bottle of his cologne before he left.

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked again.

“Just a little overwhelmed - and kinda tired.” You pulled your head back to look at him, but the two of you still kept your arms around the other.

“Well,” Bradley started, “to be fair, you did do like all the work for this party, think it’s valid to be a little tired, sweetheart.”

“What? No?” You were offended on his behalf. “Bubs, you made all the food and -”

“- Yeah, but you helped with the food and did all the work getting the house ready.”

You cocked your head, considering this. “I mean, I did. Didn’t I?” Bradley chuckled. “Okay, fine - I’m tired. But it’s a good tired, I think?”

“A good tired, huh?” His thumbs were making the most soothing circles on your hips.

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired.

“You should’ve just led with that last one.” He kissed your temple and ran his hands up and down the silk fabric covering your arms. “Would’ve known exactly what you were talking about then.”

You lightly shoved his chest and then pulled him back in for a hug. “I’m also gonna miss you a lot…”

That was the crux of it. You were going to miss him so much you thought your heart was going to burst. And enjoying all the Christmas festivities tonight - on the second Saturday in December - made it all the more apparent that Bradley wasn’t going to be with you over the holidays. He wouldn’t be with you again until March.

You two had gotten through plenty of training missions, short diplomatic visits, and off-sites - on your end - over the last eight months. But this was Bradley’s first, real deployment.

God, if only Emily Simpson could see you now. You and Bradley had both been so cocky, so confident back in October at the gala about how effortlessly you handled the time spent apart. But you hadn’t been staring down a three month long deployment back then.

Three months was a long time. Six pay cycles, at least twelve trips to the grocery, four off-sites, the entirety of Q1, five nail appointments, twenty four pilates classes, and if he knocked you up that very night, it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant - at least not for a while. Like quite a while. It was just a way to compare time. You didn’t want to be pregnant.

Three months, three months, three months.

And then he’d come home to you. To you and your life together.

That’s why the party had to be perfect. Because it would remind Bradley of home and all he had to look forward to when he came back in three months.

“I’m gonna miss you, too. Never really had someone to miss before on one of these - not like this.”

And then he kissed you - quick, little butterfly kisses that soon turned bolder and more daring, especially considering there were five or so other people milling about the kitchen. Bradley’s tongue licked your bottom lip, eventually coaxing your mouth open. He tasted like the old fashioned you saw him drinking earlier. You slid your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and fiddled with the ends of his soft hair.

The sounds of the party disappeared around you - you could no longer hear Frank Sinatra singing Jingle Bells, Jake and Georgie talking in the corner, or Javy getting drinks for him and his girlfriend to your right.

All you could focus on was Bradley. And how warm and soft and strong he felt in your arms and how -

“- Fuck’s sake, Bradshaw. Do you want us to leave or…”

You turned around to face Jake and Georgie, the latter of whom looked beyond embarrassed, and leaned back against Bradley’s chest. Shit - you’d forgotten you had an audience, especially Jake and Javy.

“Sorry…” You felt warm all over at getting caught. Normally, you and Bradley weren’t big on PDA, but you’d been needy lately - both of you had been.

Further down to your right, Javy just chuckled. “Give ‘em a break. You’d be the same if you could hold someone down long enough.” Bradley laughed, while Jake turned beat red.

While him and Javy started chirping at each other, Bradley took your hand and led you out of the kitchen, past all the guests congregating in the dining room and over towards the sitting room.

“Here, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

There were only a couple people in this part of the house - Caroline and Max, Bob and Callie, and Natasha and Rory, the latter of whom had gone with her to the gala back in October. They were a relatively quiet crowd and looked to be captivated by a story Max was telling. But then again, people were always captivated by Max.

“…so I say to Garoppolo, ‘you really wanna get the shit beaten out of you for the second time this week?’ Because a guy who folds in front of the fucking Broncos’ defensive line is not one I think can handle being humiliated like this on - aww, if it isn’t Bradley-Boy and our lovely hostess. Come here and give me a kiss, sweetheart.” You chuckled and started over towards Max. “No, not you, darling. I meant Bradley-Boy.”

With giggles and jeers, everyone turned towards Bradley, who was definitely blushing. But ever the dutiful host, he trudged over towards Max and planted a sloppy kiss on his forehead.

You had met Max over a year ago via your best friend from college, Caroline. Bradley, on the other hand, had met Max in late March at Mission Beach, right before the two of you had started going out.

Since moving back to California, Bradley had taken up surfing again and relished his weekend mornings out in the chilly Pacific. It had taken a couple weeks for the guys to realize they were both regulars and get past the initial head nod greeting, but after that they got on like a house on fire. Despite Max being a typical nepotism baby, VC-firm-bro type and Bradley the outgoing, naval man, they were each other’s best friend.

And to be perfectly honest, you thought they may have been a little in love with each other.

Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.

“All good now, peaches?” Bradley teased and then turned to everyone else in their little group. “Just so you know, the story ends with Jimmy G challenging Maxi-Pad to a closest to the pin contest and Max shanking his tee shot.”

You laughed and wrapped your free arm back around Bradley’s waist. “Was this how you planned to cheer me up?”

“Oh, god. What’d you do now, Rooster?” Natasha teased.

“Can I call you ‘Rooster?’” Max asked, much to Caroline’s delight.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Bradley said and then turned towards Natasha. “And nothing, just trying to do everything so can to make sure my girl has a lovely evening.” Everyone let out various sighs and swoons, except Nat and Max, who feigned gagging. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He grabbed your free hand again and brought you over to the upright piano in the corner, next to where Callie and Bob were lounging on the loveseat. You desperately hoped Bradley was going to play for you - maybe even some Christmas carols. He had such a natural talent for it, even beyond his usual Hard Deck repertoire of that damn Jerry Lee Lewis song. He could play Debussy, Ravel, Schumann - anything, really. You figured he’d start off with Jingle Bells or something like that, but he surprised you with something new.

Bradley’s fingers twinkled out the opening notes to Linus and Lucy and you, and the others in the sitting room, couldn’t help but laugh. He had been right - this did cheer you up. You had always loved the Peanuts.

Growing up, you’d gone to the Charles Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa too many times to count. It became your favorite place during your parents’ divorce and you always begged your dad to take you whenever you were having a bad day. But then, when the divorce had been finalized and you, your dad and brother eventually moved down to Berkeley, you didn’t get the opportunity to go as often. But your love for the cartoon characters never died and you had the sneaking suspicion that Bradley had learned the song for you - this was the first time you’d ever heard him play it.

You took a hearty sip of your champagne and leaned your arms on the top of the piano, eventually resting your cheek against your fist. Your cheeks hurt from the massive smile stretching across your face as you looked fondly at Bradley. He was concentrating so hard, his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. And his long, graceful fingers were flying across the keys.

You couldn’t imagine how long it took him to learn this if he was already off book. Did you mention his fingers? His hands? God, they were beautiful. Strong and long and corded - was that the right word? You recalled it from those regency romance novels you had hidden on your Kindle. God, you loved him so much. So fucking much. You’d never loved a person this much before - oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“You two are just like Lucy and Schroeder,” Callie cooed, snapping you out of your thoughts and causing Bradley to fumble a couple of notes. He also was blushing, which was sweet.

A couple more people filtered into the sitting room, drawn in by the music, and soon people were throwing out requests for Bradley to play while others chatted in the background. He took Pete’s suggestion of Jingle Bells and soon played a jazzy version of the song.

While Bradley played, the older man came up to you to chat. Penny couldn’t make it to the party, which was admittedly a bit of a disappointment, but she was hoping to stop by later once things wound down a bit at the Hard Deck.

“Hell of a party, kid.” He toasted you with his beer.

“Thanks, I just wanted to do something nice for Bradley.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve gotten a pizza and he would’ve been happy.”

You considered that. “True, but that hardly sounds fun - plus, this way I could get a new outfit.”

Pete smiled and you both glanced over towards the piano for a moment as Bradley got Natasha and Bob to sing along with him. It was nice seeing them all carefree and happy and just lighter. Bradley glanced over his shoulder at you and winked.

“It’s nice seeing him like this,” Pete said. “Hell, last Christmas it was like pulling teeth to get the kid over to Penny’s for Christmas Eve and to see him get a tree and have people over at his place is just - it makes me really happy. Sorry if that’s corny or -”

“- No,” you reassured him, “well, maybe a little. But corny is good sometimes. Especially around the holidays.”

“You guys gonna do gifts tomorrow or…”

You shook your head. “Nah, we’re gonna do them tonight after everyone leaves.”

Pete took a sip of his beer and nodded. “The kid wouldn’t stop talking about your gift, I swear he told everyone on base.”

You felt yourself heat up and glanced over at Bradley again. “Really?” Pete nodded. “I’m nervous now, we promised we were only doing one present, so I hope he likes mine...”

“He will,” Pete sounded certain. “You think you guys will do this at your place every year? Maybe start a new tradition?”

That was a lovely thought. Celebrating Christmas with Bradley for the next x amount of years. Plus, doing this before Christmas would give everyone the opportunity to get together before the actual holidays.

“Oh, I’d love to,” you gushed, “but it’s Bradley’s call. It’s his house - what?”

Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…”

Oh, gosh. You hoped so - one day, at least. The two of you barely spent a night apart, baring whenever one of you was away for work. You barely considered your apartment your home anymore. Instead, it was on the couch in Bradley’s living room, watching TV. Or cooking breakfast together on the weekends and watching Sunday Morning at the kitchen table. Laying beside him in bed at night, his big arms wrapped around you, as you whispered how much you loved each other. You had never felt this way before Bradley, like another person was home.

And you wanted to be home all the time.

You could feel the heat creep up your neck, the warmth only amplified by Bradley’s soothing voice singing Let It Snow.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Pete apologized, “I just wanted you to know that I can see how much you guys care about each other. And he’s my kid - at the end of the day, I just want him to be happy.” He laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you ducked your head before nodding.

Back when you had first met him, you had imagined that gaining Pete’s approval was how you would have felt had Bradley’s parents been alive to give it to you. You thought about them often - more often than you’d ever let Bradley think - and especially as of late. Would they have liked you? Would they have gotten along with your parents? From what you’d been told, they would have made amazing grandparents. Maybe Bradley would even have had more siblings? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“He makes me really happy, too,” you whispered. Pete pulled you in for a hug and then the two of you just watched Bradley playing for a few moments while the party continued around you two.

“I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Pete asked.

You just shook your head. “Nah, I’m good for now, but thanks again for coming. It means a lot to both of us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, just make sure the kid doesn’t drink too much. He always gets a little chatty…” And then Pete set off towards the kitchen, leaving you alone, but only for a moment until you heard Max’s voice in the hallway.

“Caro, darling, will you help me with something outside…” You crept over towards him, curious to see what he was up to and why he needed Caro’s help.

Caroline didn’t even look up from her phone. “I’m not giving you a handjob, darling.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you drawled, alerting them both to your presence, “Mr. Harrington already thinks we’re delinquents, can’t have him thinking we associate with them, too,” you said referring to your - no, Bradley’s neighbor.

Mr. Harrington hadn’t exactly called you and Bradley delinquents - rather, he had called you a fresh young lady after you had unknowingly flipped him off at an intersection in another neighborhood, only to find out that he was the crotchety old man that lived next door to Bradley. He had been waiting for you in the driveway when you’d gotten home a few minutes later, demanding to talk to Bradley about you. But the old man hadn’t stood a chance with you and Bradley had just stood on the porch with a proud smile on his face as you gave him a piece of your mind. Since then, he’d just pass silent judgment whenever he saw you outside.

Max held up two fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Scout’s honor.”

“It’s three fingers, dumbass.”

He breezed past you and started towards the door, gesturing for Caroline to follow him. “Good thing I was never a Boy Scout then…”

“Please, Max. Just tell me if you’re going to -”

“- Secrets, secrets are only fun unless you don’t share with anyone -”

“- That’s not even how it goes!”

Max shrugged and grabbed Caroline’s hand, pulling her close to his side. “It’ll be fun, we promise! Plus, maybe Max won’t even come back to the party…”

Oh, he was definitely doing the Santa thing. But at this point, maybe it would be fun and memorable? And maybe you were just drunk enough to let it happen.

“Fine, fine. As long as Max doesn’t come back to the party, you can do whatever you have planned -”

Max cut you off with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, love. Now, Caro! Your assistance, please!”

You waved them off towards the front door and made your way back to the sitting room where Bradley was taking requests for his next song.

His eyes were scanning the room for whom you realized was you and a great, big smile spread across his face. “Nah, I got one already. Just needed my girl in here for this.” You chuckled and walked over towards the piano. “Figured we had to end on a high note, plus I heard a rumor Santa’s coming…”

There were hoots and hollers throughout the room, which didn’t let up even as Bradley played the first notes of the song he apparently needed you for assistance.

“I’ll sing the first few lines, but then you gotta take over, alright, sweetheart?”

You sat next to him on the narrow bench and giggled, not quite knowing what he had up his sleeve, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “You got it, rocketman.”

Bradley pecked you on the lips and then turned to the room as he played.

“I really can’t stay…baby, it’s cold outside…I’ve got to go ‘way…baby, it’s cold outside…”

Oh god.

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

Hours later, after all your guests had left, fuller and far drunker than they’d been when they’d arrived, you and Bradley were tidying up the living room. The dishwasher was rumbling in the kitchen, the first of many loads you’d have to do tonight and tomorrow, but it was drowned out by the music still playing on the Sonos, while the extra food had been put away in the fridge.

From your spot across the room where you were fluffing the couch cushions, you glanced over towards Bradley. He sat, leaning against the chaise lounge, and idly sipped from a bottle of champagne that he kept putting down on the floor - though on a coaster, mind you. His hair was perfectly tousled and messy and he had a pleased smile on his face as he stared at the Christmas tree in front of him. His right hand was absentmindedly running up and down his thigh, just begging for you to ride it.

You joined him on the floor and he wordlessly passed the bottle of champagne to you before throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“You did good, kid,” he said suddenly.

A smile lit up your face. “Really?” Brady chuckled at your earnestness. “You’re not just saying that because this is like the first halfway decent party you’ve ever -”

“- Hey! I’ve been to plenty of decent parties! But I think - I think that this might be the best one yet.”

As a reward for his sweetness, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You think everyone got along? I only overheard one argument between Caro and Jake.” And it had been over the latest cryptocurrency scandal of all things.

“Yeah, but to be fair, I think trauma bonding over your singing really brought everyone together.”

You were not as bad as Bradley had said - at the very least, you could carry a tune. Granted, you wouldn’t be on the Voice anytime soon, but if you were an SNL cast member and needed to sing for a sketch, you might be okay. And no one really focused on the actual singing during Baby It’s Cold Outside - it wasn’t exactly the paragon of Christmas songs or social norms.

But it was just about the perfect duet, in that it was a crowd pleaser, a little slutty, and campy as hell. And as it so happened, you had been feeling a little slutty with all the champagne you had drunk throughout the evening. Plus, with Bradley on the keys and no one else sober enough to make fun of your less than stellar singing skills, you had been a glutton for attention. You had used your champagne coupe as a microphone and had only spilled a couple drops - at first.

“- But baby, it's cold outside -”

“ - This welcome has been -”

“ - How lucky that you dropped in -”

“ - So nice and warm -”

“ - Look out the window at that storm -”

“ - My sister will be suspicious -”

“ - Gosh, your lips look delicious -” Bradley kissed your proffered hand and you shimmied around the piano bench, eventually draping yourself over his shoulders while he continued playing.

Would you regret it in the morning? Probably. Did the song have a weird history? Yes. But it was your goddamn Christmas party! And you had wanted to have fun and fawn over your boyfriend. It had also been a good distraction from what you had correctly assumed was Max planning to crash the party as Santa with a sleigh full of presents for everyone. But Max was richer than Croesus; he could afford it.

“Come on, Bradshaw. How’s she been this year? Naughty or nice?”

You shot Bradley a glance, curious as to what his answer would be. But he just smiled wryly and toasted Max with his drink before taking a sip.

You closed the distance between the two of you and whispered in his ear, “Clever boy…”

He grabbed your ass, thankfully out of sight of your guests. “My smart girl…”

“Is that what you want me to be tonight?”

Frankly, you had been shocked Bradley hadn’t kicked everyone out then and there.

But now you were cozy and tired in all the best ways and had Bradley to yourself for the rest of the evening. You burrowed your face into his chest and pressed a couple kisses to the column of his neck, suddenly desperate to touch him. It seemed Bradley was of the same mindset and carefully settled you on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer and you shifted your attention to his lips.

Somehow, the two of you wound up laying on the floor at the edge of the Christmas tree. The soft lights made Bradley’s brown eyes appear like pools of chocolate and you flushed. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his lap, already feeling the bulge forming in his jeans. Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.

You started grinding against him, desperate to be closer, and then kissed along his neck in the hopes of leaving a reminder of this night for him. You peered up at the Christmas tree, lost in the beauty of the moment, when you suddenly noticed something.

The presents.

The presents under the tree.

The three presents under the tree.

Except…

There were only supposed to be two presents under the tree. One from each of you. You had been very clear about that right after Thanksgiving. Had even set a price limit.

Fuck. Oh, no. No, no, no. You pulled back and Bradley chased your lips with his own.

“Bubs! We said one present each!”

He shrugged underneath you and kept rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your hips. “It’s nothing - well, it’s not nothing. But it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I figured this would be a good time.”

“But - but I only got you one!”

Oh god - oh god. You ruined it. You ruined Bradley’s Christmas. You knew you should’ve gotten him that Otis Redding vinyl, too. But a Theragun? What had you been thinking? That was such a dumb gift. So impersonal, so boring, so basic. It was on three different gift guides from the Strategist for fuck’s sake. You figured it would be good for his back while he was deployed, you knew it had been giving him a lot of trouble lately. But now that Bradley had given you two gifts? In two separate boxes?

You didn’t think the ornament you’d gotten him counted as a separate gift. Tacking it onto the box was just something your family had always done.

Clearly noticing the panic on your face, Bradley sat up slightly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s -”

“- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I knew I should’ve had a back up present for you-”

He said your name firmly and you looked up at him. “- You didn’t ruin anything, alright? Hey, why don’t you open it first and then we can talk about it, okay?”

“Okay…”

You reached out for the present like it was going to explode, barely even taking notice of how nicely it had been wrapped. (Granted, you were still you, so you did actually notice, but probably would have fawned over the quaint wrapping paper and grosgrain ribbon a bit more had you not already been wigging out.) Next to you, Bradley bit his lip as he watched you peel through the paper. Why was he so nervous? He always gave you the best presents.

At first, there was nothing but a small gift box. It wasn’t terribly heavy. And it definitely wasn’t jewelry. Mainly because any of the jewelry you actually would have liked was definitely not within the spending limit, which Bradley knew. But also, it just didn’t feel like jewelry. It couldn’t have been an ornament, he wouldn’t have been this nervous.

So, what the fuck was it?

You slid your finger underneath the flap of the box and popped the lid open. But then there was the tissue paper. Goddamnit, Bradley! Why was he so good at wrapping presents! You glanced up at him only to see that he was blushing. Properly blushing. Like pink neck, pink cheeks - hell, even the tips of his ears were pink - blushing.

Unable to take the suspense a moment longer, you dove into the tissue paper to find -

“- A key?” Your fingers gently picked up the offending object, only belatedly noticing that the key fob matched your favorite work tote bag.

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to ask you to move in with me for ages, it’s just we had so much time until it would become an issue, but then I got deployed and I know your lease will just about be up by the time I get back in the spring. So, I figured now would be a good time to ask if you wanted to move in with me? But if you think it’s too soon, I can totally wait. However long it takes for you to be comfortable with it is fine with me - I just want to have my life with you.”

“Bubs…” your voice was thick. “I uhh -”

“- I always want to come home to you - if you’ll have me?”

Oh god, oh god, oh god. You let out a disbelieving laugh. You would have Bradley Bradshaw in any way you could get him. He was your home.

You wiped away a wayward tear. “Bradley, this is - this is so unbelievably perfect. Yes, yes, I will move with you.”

He surged forward to kiss you and you temporarily forgot all your previous worries because Bradley wanted to move in with you. He wanted to share furniture and go grocery shopping for food that would go in the same fridge. He wanted to wake up beside you every single morning and come home to you every single evening and go to sleep beside you every single night. He wanted everything. And that’s what you wanted to give him.

“God, I love you so much.”

You never got tired of hearing him say that. “I love you, too. Sorry I made such a big deal about the presents…”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just put it in with the other gift, I get how it could have thrown you off.”

He was being nice and not pushing it for the moment, which you really appreciated. “Say, why don’t you open your gift from me and then I’ll open your other one?”

You crawled over towards the other two presents under the tree and gave the one that said to; rocketman to Bradley, while you took the other one with your name on it. It was decently sized and relatively light. The thing with Bradley that always made you nervous was that he gave the best presents.

For your birthday, he had not only organized a trip for the two of you out to Catalina Island, but he had also learned how to fucking sail Penny’s boat, so he could be the one to take you there himself. He had been so excited and had looked so cute in his white linen pants and navy blue button down and you swore you had never been more attracted to him.

And then, for your six month anniversary, he had somehow gotten you two into Addison out in Carmel Valley for dinner and then followed that up with a trip to the drive-in to see a special showing of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Though to be fair, neither of you had paid as much attention to the movie as you had been too busy necking each other in the backseat of the Bronco.

In short, he was a prince among men. Well, except when he wasn’t. But that wasn’t often. So, you were excited, but wary to open his gift, knowing nothing could possibly top the house key.

You tore through the wrapping paper to find another box similar to the one from earlier, except this one was heavier. Beneath the tissue paper laid a thick white envelope and an apron in a Liberty pattern. Your smile grew as you opened the envelope and saw that Bradley had gifted you cooking lessons for the next three months.

“Bubs.” You nudged his shoulder. “This is perfect, thank you. The apron is super cute, too.”

Bradley chuckled. “Now you can stop wearing mine and hopefully stop burning risotto -”

“- It was one time!”

“Yeah and you almost burned down your apartment.” You made a face and he made one right back before turning serious. “But I thought it would be nice, something for you to do while I’m gone.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’m excited and I’m gonna make you the best dinner you’ve ever had when you come home to me, alright?”

“It’s a date.”

“Perfect, now open yours!” You pushed the present towards him.

Bradley was one of those people that opened presents like they were going to save the wrapping paper, which meant he did it slowly and purposefully. This normally didn’t bother you, but you were already a little on edge from earlier and had to sit on your hands to stop you from ripping the paper off yourself.

First, he took off the little ornament you had affixed to the package. Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.

He shook his head. “I’ll get there one day, sweetheart…” he said fondly. “Now let’s see what we have here.”

The nerves settled in your stomach again and you barely let him unwrap the present before you jumped on him with an explanation.

“Wait, is this one of those -”

“ - It’s a Theragun. I know I make fun of you for having a sore back and being old a lot, but I thought this could help when you’re deployed and I’m not around to tend to your every need,” you teased.

Bradley conceded a nod. “You do give good back massages…” You preened. “But I get these ads on my Instagram all the time, so this is perfect, thank you.”

“I figured it wasn’t something you’d buy for yourself and it’ll come in hand -”

“- I bet it’s a wicked strong vibrator - owww!”

“Bradley!” You giggled. Holy shit, you hadn’t even thought of that. There were like five different speeds on that thing and six different attachments. Fuck. “In that case, maybe I should keep it…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He slid the box behind his back and you crawled over to steal it away from him.

But before you could wrap your arms around him, Bradley pulled you into his lap and eventually the Theragun was pushed away and the two of you were sprawled out on the floor making out like a bunch of horny teenagers again.

Goddamn - you really were gonna fuck underneath the Christmas tree, weren’t you? Now that would be the perfect memory for Bradley to take with him. Festive and fun and spontaneous.

His hands felt sinful as they crept up your thighs. It was like he was mapping out the slowest route to his destination, especially as they cupped your ass and ground your body against his. Suddenly, you let out a hiss as your elbow hit the hardwood floor, but quickly reassured Bradley that you were okay once he stopped to check in with you.

He whispered your name. “I need you so badly.”

“- Fuck, me too. Want you to take me right here -”

“- Owww,” Bradley let out a groan against your lips.

You immediately pulled back, concern lacing your features. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just - I don’t think we should do this on the floor?”

“But it’s very spur of the moment?” You glanced around the living room, past the Christmas tree and the wrapping paper from your respective presents. “What about the couch?”

“We just got it dry-cleaned - again.”

You sat further back on his lap and Bradley propped himself up on his elbows. Your wrap dress draped prettily over your bare thighs. “We can put a towel down?”

“Isn’t it upstairs?”

You made a face. “I could go get it? Or we could break out a new one?”

“Then I might as well come upstairs with you -”

“- But I want it to be spontaneous!”

He rolled his hips and you sighed. “We can be spontaneous upstairs…”

“Yeah, but…” You could feel the tears starting to form and your throat closing up.

Bradley tried to get in your line of sight after you ducked your head. “Hey, what is it? It’s alright.”

You sniffled. “I just want you to have some good memories before you leave and be spontaneous - especially since during the party I was pretty stressed and uptight -” The last word came out bitterly, but Bradley didn’t let you finish your sentence.

“- Hey, none of that, alright? I knew you were a little stressed, but just chalked it up to the party. What’s really going on, sweetheart?”

You wanted to tell him. That you were going to miss him and wanted him to be able to think of the two of you doing all these fun and exciting and wonderful things before he left. That you didn’t want him to think of you crying and puffy eyed and sad. That you didn’t want him to think of you having sex in your bed, like any other night, but how you couldn’t even make it upstairs because you needed each other so much, so desperately and had to make due with the living room floor.

Just say you were tired. Just say you were tired.

But when Bradley took your hand and threaded your fingers together and started drawing circles across your palm, the tears came. And came and came and didn’t stop. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand and repositioned yourself to lay beside him.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, come here.” Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let you rest your head on his chest. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, honey.”

Once the tears slightly abated, you took in a deep breath to ground yourself. “I wanted everything to be perfect for you since you’re not going to be home for Christmas and all this stuff went wrong -”

“- Sweetheart, baby, no, no. It didn’t go wrong, everything went really really right.”

“Really?” you whispered.

Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, best Christmas I’ve had since - fuck, I can’t remember when. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“I know it was dumb to be worried about it - and to let myself get upset over it - but I think I was just so focused on the party and the presents and making everything perfect because I don’t want to think too much about you leaving.” You sniffled. “And I feel like that makes me seem childish or like I can’t handle this - your job, I mean. But I’m really just going to miss you, so fucking much. And I’ve never felt like this before.”

The look in Bradley’s eyes after you unloaded all that made you feel ten times lighter and you regretted not saying anything earlier.

“Sweetheart…” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s definitely not dumb to be worried about stuff like that and I know you can handle all of this - I’m not worried in that respect. I just want you to know how much I appreciated every single thing you’ve done for me these last couple weeks trying to make sure I had a good Christmas. And I know it’s cliche to say, but it’s the goddamn truth - I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you, alright?”

Your heart soared and you felt the tears forming again at his words. I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you. Because in the end, that was all that really mattered. You just kept your reply simple. “Alright, rocketman.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You kissed him again. “I love you so much, bubs.”

“Even though I’m old and don’t think we should fuck on the living room floor?”

You chuckled at his attempt to bring some levity into an otherwise heavy conversation. “Yes, Bradley. I love you even though you wouldn’t let me fuck you on the living room floor…”

This time, Bradley pulled you closer, so your body was spread out on top of him and kissed you, licking your bottom lip before opening your mouth up to him. His hands snuck underneath the skirt of your silk dress, skirting the edge of your panties. You sighed. His hands were calloused and a little rough, but they still touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Hold up, I never said I wouldn’t let you, I just said I don’t think - hey!” Bradley tried to fend off your tickle attack, but could only get a few words out between his giggles. “Stop, you know I’m old!”

Your ridiculously handsome, thirty-six year old, naval aviator boyfriend was giggling on the floor of your house because your were tickling his sides. If only you could show this version of Bradley to the Navy - maybe then they wouldn’t take him away from you at Christmas. Stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.

“Also, are you still upset that I got you two presents? Because if you are, can I just make you come once tonight? Level the field.”

You giggled. “Shut up.” Your kiss cut off any reply he had been about to give and you licked his bottom lip, coaxing open his mouth.

“Uh, uh, uh.” You paused and tilted your head slightly to look Bradley in the eye. “Now, what did Santa ask earlier, huh? You been naughty or nice this year?”

There were two ways in which this could play out - with two different, though ultimately satisfying results. One would play out relatively quickly - and the other would ensure you were occupied all night.

“Nice?”

Bradley clicked his tongue. “Don’t know about that…”

“Why not? Haven’t I been good?” You pouted, completely exaggerated, which Bradley picked up on in an instant.

“Good girls don’t typically have to ask if they’ve been good…”

“Maybe I don’t want to be good tonight…”

Bradley sucked in a breath as you snuck your hand underneath his shirt and teased the waistband of his jeans. His skin was hot to the touch beneath your fingers as you unbuttoned his shirt. You leaned forward to press little butterfly kisses to his neck and gradually made your way down past the little tufts of hair on his chest.

“Please touch me, sweetheart. Please.”

There was a carnal need inside you to mark his skin. To give him proof of your love and need for him, so that he could look at the marks in the mirror until they faded. A kiss across his neck, a soft bite on his shoulder, another on his bicep by his tattoo. You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine. And I want everyone to know.

“God, Bradley. You’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Bradley let out a whine as your teeth grazed against the sensitive flesh on his neck. “Fuck, I love you.”

His hands inched up your thighs, getting closer to the throbbing heat between your legs. Maybe it was the festive spirit, the fact that Bradley had asked you to move in with him, or that he was shipping out in 28 hours for three months, but you were pathetically wet already. Desperate and needy and as naughty as he had joked earlier.

“I can feel the heat pouring off you, sweetheart.”

“Can we go - ahhh - can we go upstairs, please?”

He pulled back slightly. “What happened to fucking on the living room floor?” he teased.

“Don’t want to fuck up your old man back anymore - Bradley!” you cried out as he smacked your ass.

“Old man, huh?” His smile was sinful and you were putty in his hands.

You widened your eyes, trying to appear contrite. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen - Bradley!” He cut you off again, but this time because he was tickling your sides and your giggles made it impossible to speak. “Ta-take me upstairs, bubs - please. Don’t - don’t want you to hold back.”

“Now how could I refuse that?”

Gradually, the two of you made your way upstairs to the bedroom, though with a couple of breaks in between for Bradley to press you up against the walls and on the staircase. You’d have bruises tomorrow, you were sure. But you wanted them to last - to be something to remember this night by for the weeks and months to come.

You landed heavily on the bed, bouncing slightly, and peered up at Bradley. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily with each breath he took as he looked you over, like he was trying to memorize you.

Without breaking eye contact, you rose to your knees and pulled at the pretty little bow tying your wrap dress. Hours ago, you’d felt self conscious about your body in front of everyone else, but at that moment you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Bradley’s eyes widened as he took in the way you slowly pushed the silk dress off your shoulders, leaving you only in your burgundy bra and panties. It wasn’t exactly a matching set, but the colors matched and that was enough for the two of you that night.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Bradley lunged forward, causing you to fall back against the pillows and you wrapped your legs around his hips with a gleeful cry, which he promptly cut off with his lips.

After spending ample time just kissing you and running his hands up and down your body, Bradley lavished attention on your breasts, licking and biting and sucking on them like a man possessed. Your nipples were peaked to attention, thanks to the slight chill in the bedroom and his thorough ministrations. With one hand, he paid special attention to the skin just below your nipple, rubbing his middle finger along the tender flesh while thumbing at the raised bud. Meanwhile, his other hand kept trekking downward towards your clit.

“Oh god!” you cried out against his lips as he slid his fingers inside you and crooked them just right.

“So fucking wet, sweetheart.”

Fuck. You could feel yourself clenching around him, desperate for something more. You were needy for him that night. Needy to have your boyfriend all to yourself. To give yourself to him completely. Your orgasm was well and truly building up inside you, but you wanted to come on his cock first. There would be plenty more opportunities that night to come apart in other ways.

You’d work him all through the night if you had to just to get your fix before he left. The thought made you desperate.

“Bu-bubs, please. I need more - need your cock inside me.” You pulled him closer, grazing your thighs against his throbbing cock.

Bradley groaned. “Such a needy fucking thing, bucking against my fingers like that, huh?” You whined. “But I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, yeah. Make sure you savor it.”

It sounded fucking sinful the way your cunt was sucking in Bradley’s fingers. He’d begun scissoring them inside you so as to not have to remove them just yet.

More. More. More. You chanted the words mindlessly in your head. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Finally, he pulled out his fingers and shamelessly dried them off on your breasts. “You ready?” You nodded frantically. “Don’t think either of us is gonna last long.”

No, you didn’t think so either. But you didn’t want to prolong this. You needed to be close to him and to know he was real and good and yours. At least for tonight.

Knowing each other as you did, you raised your hips slightly, letting Bradley to slip inside you. You both moaned, you loving the stretch and him loving the tight warmth. You wrapped your arm around his neck, bringing his lips closer to yours, but not daring to lean in those final few centimeters to touch, and instead just breathed against each other.

“Fuck,” you rasped against his lips, “I love you.”

“Love you so much.” He snapped his hips against yours and you cried out. “Gonna miss you.”

You ducked your head to swipe your lips across the scar on his neck. “Can’t wait for you to come home to me.”

Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you.

He groaned your name. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Can’t believe it’s happening.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you bridged the gap to kiss him. “Bubs, I’m so close, please.”

“Tell me how to get you there? I wanna wait for you.”

If he kept saying things like that, you wouldn’t be too far behind. Without breaking eye contact, you brought Bradley’s hand down to your clit and he played with the sensitive nub. You keened against his hand, which was coupled with a particularly deep thrust of his cock. You felt that coil in your belly finally unraveling.

“‘M close, feels so good. Again…”

He repeated the action again and again, telling you how gorgeous you were as you took his cock and how much he loved you and needed you and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Because for tonight you were.

With a strangled cry of his name, you came and true to his word, Bradley followed shortly after. Fuck. He felt so good. He made you feel so good, so full, so loved.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He peppered kisses up and down your neck and across your cheeks, before settling on your lips. The two of you sat there like that for a few moments, trying to even out your breathing and be as close together as possible.

But eventually Bradley had to pull out and you whimpered at the loss. He settled you back against the pillows and then started cleaning you up with the towel in his nightstand. Before he got to your still leaking cunt, he scooped up some of your cum with his fingers and brought it to your lips.

“Open.” You did so without a second thought and cleaned off his fingers, getting high off the taste of the two of you mixed together. “Good girl.”

Then you let yourself get settled underneath the covers. You could go to the bathroom in a few minutes because right now you wanted to be with Bradley. Your bodies were both hot and sticky underneath the white sheets, but you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be than in his arms.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, bubs.” You cupped his cheek tenderly, like he would disappear at any moment. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind said that he would, in fact, do just that - on Monday morning. But that night he was yours.

Bradley nuzzled your hand, eventually pressing a kiss to your palm. “It’s not too long, just three months.”

“Three months without you.” Kiss. “Without your singing.” Kiss. “Your cooking.” Kiss. “Your smile and your silly little mustache.” Kiss. Kiss. “Three months without you, rocketman.”

Your eyes were swimming with tears, but they were properly dripping down Bradley’s cheeks.

“But we still have tonight.”

You still had tonight. And you’d be in each other’s arms till the morning light.

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

Two weeks later, as you sat in your childhood bedroom on Christmas Eve, you were at once hit with a startling realization: it wasn’t your home anymore. It hadn’t been in years, really. Not since you’d officially moved out after college. But that fact had never been so apparent until you were waiting for the Facetime call to connect to Bradley.

Your home was in San Diego with your friends and your job. Your home was with your boyfriend, snuggled up on the couch watching TV, perusing the aisles of the farmer’s market, watching him surf, and cooking dinner together. Your home was with Bradley.

And you just wanted to be home - you just wanted Bradley.

You had put on a brave face during Christmas Eve celebrations with your family - at least with your extended family. You had sung carols at church, helped Mary and your dad prep and lay out all the traditional Christmas Eve dishes, organized the Yankee Swap with your brother and Lauren, and had a few too many cocktails with your cousins. But as the last of your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins had left and your dad had turned on NBC for the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, you had lost it.

Properly, honestly, well and truly lost it. As in fat tears streaming down your face, snot clogging your nose, remnants of your mascara rimmed around your eyes lost it.

Goddamn Harry Bailey got to come home in time for Christmas! Harry got to toast to his “big brother George: the richest man in town.” Granted, George had basically just tried to kill himself, so the comparison wasn’t perfect - but still! Congressional Medal of Honor winner, Navy pilot Harry Bailey got to be home for Christmas! Why couldn’t Bradley? Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.

At the sight of your tears, Mary had just opened up her blanket and let you burrow against her side as she rubbed your back like she used to when you were a kid, while your dad had gotten you a cup of Sleepytime Tea. Eventually, once you had calmed down enough and they had said all the right words to soothe your heartache, you had kissed your dad and Mary goodnight - Mary had hugged you a bit tighter than usual - and they both had told you to give Bradley their best during your Facetime call.

They liked Bradley - a lot, actually. Of course, they’d given him a tough time when they first talked on the phone all those months ago, but by the time Bradley officially met them at Thanksgiving, it was like he’d known them for years. He just fit.

He loved to talk to Mary about her history classes at Berkeley and how her students were doing. He had the same sense of humor as your dad and also loved the Patriots despite their recent offensive coordinator troubles.

He just made you lighter and made things lighter. He fit.

And you could only hope that one year he’d be able to come up to Berkeley with you to celebrate for the holidays instead of being all alone on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.

Shit! The call was finally connecting. You felt tears in your eyes as you finally got to see your beautiful boy again. Though the picture was a little grainy, Bradley was sitting in what looked like one of the quiet rooms in your office, clad in his green flight suit. And he had the most wonderful smile on his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, bubs,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t come out as thickly over Facetime as it did in your room.

For what felt like the longest time, but was probably only a few seconds, you stared at each other, just drinking in the other’s face. Bradley already looked tired. This was your first Facetime since he’d left two weeks ago. Normally, you talked over email - which was actually kind of fun.

Early on in your relationship during a one week special detachment, you had unironically sent him a pretty formal email to check in:

Bradley,

Hope you’re settling in well. Let me know when it would be a good time to connect via FaceTime. I can put some time on my calendar whenever you’re free. I’m heading to an off-site in Raleigh on Thursday, so I’ll be on East Coast time.

Miss you and stay safe,

It had even been from your PwC email address, which he never let you forget. But soon quasi-formal emails became your thing. They probably set off a bunch of red flags to the censor team and you had never sent one from your work email again, but it was fun. You’d even thought of a couple code words and phrases to use.

“You have a good night? How’s your dad and Mary? Tell them thanks again for the package.”

Your parents had had the idea to send everything they normally would have put in Bradley’s Christmas stocking to him on the carrier. He had emailed the three of you a picture of the package, received in perfect condition, on his bunk yesterday. You two had decided that he would open it while you were on your FaceTime call. It wasn’t anything particularly special, except for two small gifts you’d snuck in before bringing it to the post office, but you were excited and could tell Bradley was too.

You held your breath as he parsed through the Dr.Jart sheet masks, Churchill cigars, various Christmas themed candies, new electric toothbrush heads, and scratch cards until he got to the bottom of the stack where your two special presents were hidden.

“Now, what’s this?” He shot you a teasing glance as he opened the envelope.

You remained tight lipped, just glad it hadn’t been opened by Naval mail security. Bradley slid the object out of the envelope and you could see his eyes widen, even over Facetime, as he realized what it was before he promptly turned it over and glanced around even though there was no one else in the room with him.

“Shit - how’d you - how’d you take this?” He leaned back in his chair and stared at it, clearly a little in awe.

You felt your cheeks heating up. “Well, I know you have a couple on your phone, but figured an old fashioned one might be nice too - especially if you’re in a tech blackout or whatever it’s called. But do you really like it - seriously, you don’t have -”

“- No, I love it. You’re not getting this back from me.” You giggled. “But you gotta tell me how you managed to get the Polaroid in the shower with you and still get the soapy titties in the picture?”

“Can’t tell you everything, now can I?”

(Caroline had taken them for you. It truly had been a bonding experience and was honestly not half as sexy as Bradley was probably thinking. But you just smiled - more than content to keep that a secret from him.)

“Well, it is very much appreciated. So, thank you, I love it, seriously.”

You tried to peer into the box from halfway across the world. “There should be one more thing in there from me - and you don’t have to use it, but I know something similar always makes me feel like you’re right next to me…”

Bradley gingerly unwrapped the final tissue paper package only to reveal a travel sized bottle of your perfume. You giggled, watching him spritz his wrist and breathe in the scent.

“Fuck…I’ve missed that.”

You rested your cheek against your fist and just watched him. For a minute, it felt like he was right in front of you. It made you want to do something terribly cliche like hold your palm up against the screen and imagine you could feel the heat from his hand as he did the same thing back.

But instead Bradley just smiled at you and asked you all about your Christmas Eve activities.

So, you told him about sneaking outside to smoke with your cousins, drinking too much champagne, eating too much food made from your grandma’s recipes from the old country, getting an actually good gift in the Yankee Swap, and crying over Harry Bailey. And he just listened and smiled and asked questions at all the right parts and kept telling you how much he would have loved to do all that beside you next year.

And then with your remaining five minutes of calltime, Bradley told you all the goings on aboard the ship and how he and Callie and Javy were doing and about the fancy dinner and breakfast planned for tomorrow.

But then the dreaded countdown clock on the side of the screen popped up, signaling you had thirty seconds left. By then, both of you had tears in your eyes as you tried to say goodbye until your next call.

“So, we’ll talk in two weeks, okay? Should be just after New Year’s, but keep emailing me. I love reading them when I get the chance.”

You wiped a stray tear from your eye. “Of course, I’ll give you a full Christmas morning breakdown.”

Bradley chuckled, but seemed to glance at the countdown clock and sobered up. “I love you, I love you so much and I’m so happy I get to come home to you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas, bubs. Please come home.”

-----------

a/n: sorry it took me so fucking long to write again, but a girl can only be so self indulgent! merry christmas, this taglist is shit sorry!

Taglist: @sunderlust @seasonsbloom @ticklish-leafy-plant @lass-that-is-gone @katcoquette @daniellef89x @double-j @bradshawswife @hufflepuffprincesse @cloudycluster @sithbelova @mavencalorers @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone @unordinare @callsignvalley @pricklepearbloom @browneyedboys @cherrycola27 @whatblogisthis216 @agentofkrypton @lcahwriter @kyliesalvatore @noellreadfiction @coyotesamachado @heartsofminds @jocsrecs @notroosterbradshaw @roosterforme @iblogtopassthetime @karateperson @nessrin @frenchtoastix @piceous21 @princessphilly @spideyngwen @mrsjobarnes @calmpunker @softspiderling @feralforfrank @fivsecondsflat @sexualparkour @greenorangevioletgrass @sexygaypalpatine @moonyscardigans @carousallie @liveholland @supernaturaldawning @melancholyy-hill @currentlybradshaw @summ3rlotus @seesaw-jk @roostereads @milestomaverick @some-lovely-day @steadfastconviction @sometimesanalice @jupitercomet @rae-gar-targaryen @oncasette @whisperofsong @call-sign-jinx @howdysebby

#thank you so SO much truly 🥰#i just ramble a lot so sorry if it doesn't make sense

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years ago

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Hi Kay!

I just wanted to take a moment and say how deeply moving (and overall comforting) I find your writing to be! I've gone through almost the entirety of your masterlist twice in the past month alone and have found myself returning more often to the pieces of literature/poems your reference sometimes. (Especially that one poem by Benedict Smith! I've read a few more by him because of you and they're just wonderfully lovely 💛 so I'm eternally thankful to you for including it.)

I may be wrong in assuming, but I believe you may have studied/are currently studying a degree involving literature. I hope this isn't too foreward of me but I was wandering if you have any other works of literature that you'd recommend? (I'd love to read anything you recommend from poems to plays 💛) I'm slightly embaressed to say but the works I've read are quite limited to a highschool level and since I'm currently studying Pharmacy, there are very few people who can recommend me such moving works. :)

I also feel like I should apologise for writing such a large ask, so please accept this apology as well hehe 💕🥺

Sincerely,

Bek 🌻

Hey there Bek 💚💕✨

First of all... I'm incredibly sorry for how long it took me to reply to this ask, I know you sent it weeks ago and I'm honestly just ashamed of myself for only replying now! I've been taking a bit of a Tumblr break again, or rather a break from literally everything, and I guess not having written anything in a while made me feel guilty whenever I opened Tumblr, so... All I can say for myself really is that I'm sorry you had to wait so long! Again, I never ever ignore anyone, I promise! It just sometimes takes a while for me to reply 😅🙈

Now, I'm so happy to hear that you've been enjoying my writing! 🥺🥰 Hearing that it's comforting and inspiring to you is honestly such a relief and indeed does make me happy more than I can say 💚 It's so cool that you're checking up on all the references I make aaahhh 🥺🥺🥺 I love it 😁 You're always more than welcome, love! I don't think I could stop including references to literature, culture, history and the science around it even if I tried 😅☺️

And yeah, I did study classics and newer literature as a minor for my undergrad degree 😄 But tbh I still work with literally a lot even now (I'm in grad school for media and cultural studies) even though it's technically not something I've been properly taught ☺️ I'm just a nerd who likes to learn on her own, and with media and culture you can pretty much delve into almost anything you want 😂😅🤷🏻‍♀️

Now, it's not forward at all to ask me for literature recommendations! 😁😃 I truly love recommending stuff!!! I have a few up my sleeve, even though you've probably heard of a few already, for obvious reasons: A lot of what I truly enjoyed reading was something Tom Hiddleston has worked on in one way or another! It's truly a magnificent guideline for picking new literature... Just look up the literary origins of his films/shows/plays and you will be in for quality literature most of the time! I don't think I've ever mentioned it on here, but me reading High-Rise (JG Ballard) because I heard Tom would be partaking in the film adaptation was actually what sparked my love and passion for literature!!! Yep, it's that good. Now on to the recommendations though 😁(This... got rather long):

Plays

Anything by Harold Pinter really, but for obvious reasons you'll find a lot of additionally fun stuff for Betrayal, which is lovely and truly funny if you're in on the kind of humour btw

Medea by Euripides (a classic, but I love it nonetheless... You can find translations in almost every language) ((and pls stay away from Seneca's Medea, because ugh... Euripides is far better AND the og story, as much as anyone can say that for Greek mythology)

La Bohème by Puccini (I know, this is technically an opera, but if you read the libretto it's honestly just like a play... And if you're up for it, the og story is in prose and written by Henri Murger... It's better than the opera, but oftentimes more difficult to find) ((this one is hilarious and basically explains an entire cultural subgroup in the 19th century)

Faust by Goethe (many people hate it, but I LOVE this one!!! It's also been translated into any and every language, and it's so interesting philosophically!!! It's also referenced SO freaking often literally everywhere, and the operas and ballets based on it are always my fave) ((there's technically Faust I and Faust II, but you're good to go just reading the first one)

Anything by Shakespeare, obviously... Though I do love me my Hamlet like every other literature enthusiast (Yes, I can do that one famous soliloquy in act 3 scene 1 by heart as well...)

Poetry

Again, anything Shakespeare for the win, but I LOVE the sonnets and keep a copy of them with me most of the time (Yes, I own multiple copies of the sonnets...) ((My faves are 116 and 91, but there's always so much truth to be found in there!!!))

A lot of the stuff William Blake wrote is amazing, though you have to pick carefully with him if certain religious motives aren't your thing... I love The Tyger, which is an individual poem, and the collection of works called Tyger, Tyger which does have many good ones and a few ones that are a little more on the mediocre side

Do not go gentle into that good night by Dylan Thomas (I know this one by heart as well... It's beautiful, and there's a version of Hiddleston reading it on YouTube, which gives you even more goosebumps than the poem does anyway)

Invictus by William Ernest Henley (same for this one, also read by the one and only) ((I love to read this when I'm feeling down or powerless))

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot (This is another wow piece with many quotable lines and truths... I love it a lot and keep coming back to it! It's also a great example of how literary modernism tried to condense the complexity and passing of time and history into a single frame that had to be intrinsically poetical in nature... As in, this poem could've been a short story in any other period, but modernists loved to make everything a poem so here you go)

Der Zauberlehrling by Goethe (This one sucks in all English translations I’ve found, poetically speaking, but in German it’s such a fun piece! If you’ve ever seen the Disney ‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ with Mickey Mouse or listened to the orchestral piece by Paul Dukas, then this poem proves very useful in truly understanding either! But again, the English translation should only be taken for informational value... The German one is also worded hilariously)

Prose

Short edited by Alan Ziegler (This is a collection of short prose forms that honestly is a must for me... I love this book to pieces and have had it for years now! It’s an international anthology, so you’ll find more and less famous authors from all around the world represented with short stories, prose poems, short essays and just curious and interesting snippets of writing! I draw a lot of inspiration from this book)

High-Rise by JG Ballard (As mentioned above, I owe this book part of my personality... I don’t think I would be the same person without having read it. It’s not necessarily full of wisdom, but if you’re interested in a different kind of portrayal of the human condition, then this is the read you need to take a look at)

The City of Dreaming Books by Walter Moers (This is another piece that changed my perception of literature, even though this is a more ordinary and ‘fun’-value read... It’s one of my favourite books and it’s endlessly entertaining! So if the classics are a bit heavy for you, this one is perfect for casual readers as well! Its value really does lie more in the realisation of how fun literature can be, and the freedom you have as an author... So really, I could recommend everything by Moers, his style is amazing both in the German original and in the English translation. Yes, I’ve read both.)

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (This is comedic gold, stylistic gold and generally a bloody perfect book. Also a ‘fun’-value read, but it also does a magnificent job at showing you what you can do with literature, and how well-developed characters are supposed to be written)

The Penguin Book of the Undead (Penguin Classics) edited by Scott G. Bruce (This book is basically an education on fifteen hundred years of supernatural encounters and how culture wrote, used and perceived them. You get introductory texts for different periods and social groups, explaining how and why ghost stories were written and used, followed by passages of the prime source texts (eg. ancient necromancy shown on The Odyssey). Really, this book is just for cultural history nerds)

The Earthquake in Chile by Kleist (This isn’t necessarily one of my faves, but it has helped me understand what studying literature and culture can do for you. In case anyone remembers my insistence in Wicked Game that you gotta know what a pomegranate symbolises... this novella is such an instance where this knowledge would prove useful. Generally, it gives many opportunities to think about privilege and circumstance)

The Symposium by Plato (You’ll probably not want to read the entire collection of speeches tbh... But the concepts introduced mainly here and in some of Plato’s other work are well worth looking into! For example, the ‘double being’ introduces a concept that in modern fiction is called soulmates... Just sayin’)

#literature #lit rec #recommendation #literature recommendation

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retvenkos · 4 years ago

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“i am this close to dropkicking all of you into oblivion”

i have one sibling in every hogwarts house, so here’s some weird things each of them does...

gryffindor

will walk up the stairs, stare at you for a minute straight, and then make a random animal sound (usually a pterodactyl screech) before laughing and leaving again

unironically blasts “all i want for christmas is you” at 8 o’clock in the morning on black friday

will call you at really inopportune moments only to breathe heavily into the phone, laugh after a minute or so, and ask you if mom is home (after she just told them she was leaving.)

if they get take out they always offer to get you something and then pay for it, but then they hold it over your head, later

never has cash on them, despite always being able to buy you take out

which means they never tip the doordasher, rip

honestly doesn’t care if they’re left out of family things™ but brings up all the times you did something without them randomly, just to guilt trip you

always makes plans for when they will come into money but never does

plans to get really expensive gifts for birthdays or holidays but then doesn’t have money when the time comes

impulsively sells their electronics (like playstations and xboxes) for money only to buy new electronics

and then eventually buy back the same model of the one they sold

actually stays out of a lot of family drama by just never leaving their room

needs “background noise” to sleep so they end up hogging netflix all night despite not actually watching it

yells loudly when playing video games, much to ravenclaw’s annoyance

stays up until 5 o’clock in the morning playing video games then doesn’t wake up until noon

only sings to annoy others

put a nylon on their head and had a cousin (an enablist ravenclaw) pour cereal and milk into their covered mouth

ravenclaw filmed and encouraged this

stole the microwave in the kitchen to put in their room

aLWAYS HAS THE TV ON BUT NEVER WATCHES IT

constantly deletes and recreates their instagram account

unironically likes riverdale

watched the entirety of the clone wars and then made fun of me and hufflepuff when they saw us watching it.

absolutely did not care what i put on this post

ravenclaw

will mutter a joke under their breath, and then when no one laughs, will say “wow. guess i’m not loved.”

went through a pirate, ancient egypt, ancient greek, and dinosaur phase at various points in their life

for the most part you would never guess but occasionally they will hit you with a bit of obscure knowledge that makes you go ???

planned a scavenger hunt based on the meme of ted cruz being the zodiac killer

enlisted the help of their sibling, a slytherin, to create an ottendorf cipher to make it interesting

gets enraged by the fact that gryffindor never tips doordashers

doesn’t want to be left out of family things™ but also doesn’t want to do them

doesn’t let their financial status known and will just suffer™ in dignified silence

will float gryffindor money to buy electronics, only to get hella upset when gryffindor inevitably sells them

needs a special pillow and a sleep mask to sleep

is dead silent 80% of the time but will break out into song in the middle of the kitchen, completely unprompted

will be completely silent and then say “they ask you how you are, and you just have to say you’re fine when you’re not really fine, but you just can’t get into it, because they would never understand.”

films gryffindor’s antics

used the microwave in gryffindor’s room without passing judgement

randomly deletes or renames everyone’s accounts on netflix

or will troll others, making a second account identical to their own

mostly to annoy gryffindor or hufflepuff

has zero posts on instagram. obscure stories only.

reinvents their entire style every three years or so.

has zero consistency when it comes to music taste

likes to think they’re better than gryffindor because they watch scandal and how to get away with murder instead of riverdale

begged me to make this post (specifically to roast gryffindor) and then got very offended by what i put here

hufflepuff

will interrupt you in the middle of a conversation, and then when you finally turn to them, will go, “uhh..... i forgot.”

has a complete inability to finish their food, no matter how hungry they are. even if they finish their first plate they will get a second or third and fail to finish it in the end.

is constantly binging tv - is keeping up with 5 shows at any given moment

if you ask them to do something they don’t want to do, they either do it anyway or pretend they didn’t hear your request

this combined with them pretending to be asleep to avoid work

they never want to be left out of family things™ but only want to do half of it or one very specific job (usually doing the place setting for dinner or something equally as effortless)

is strangely good at getting other people to give them money but is also willing to give you some if you need it

encourages gryffindor to sell their electronics but then backs up ravenclaw when they get angry about it

never sleeps but when they do it can be anywhere at any time

sings while doing homework

also sings when they hear you coming toward them and can sense you need something (then they pretend they can’t hear you because they are singing and if you get louder so do they)

is very confused by gryffindor’s antics

was visibly upset when gryffindor put the microwave in their room and refused to use it for four months after it had been returned to the kitchen because it was “tainted”

has an ungodly amount of tabs open on google chrome at all times

they have zero storage in their phone because it’s full of really blurry photos they refuse to delete

also refuses to delete photos on instagram - even the cringey ones - because they “die like men”

is rightfully horrified by gritty reboots like riverdale

rewatches cartoons and disney channel only

has an inexplicable hatred for anakin skywalker and jar jar binks

i haven’t told them about this post because i fear they will go feral once they know of it’s existence

slytherin

will ghost you for two months and then do an instagram story about missing their family and always wanting to be there for you

used to be such a people pleaser that they did a sport that they actually hated for four years

buys scarily accurate gifts but then never tell you how they know

says they don’t care if they’re left out of family things™ but actually does

either has lots of money that no one was aware of or is hella broke but can play it off really well

tells gryffindor not to sell their electronics but also tells them the place to get the best price

manages to stay out of a lot of minor family drama but is at the center of larger debates

can sleep anywhere and can sleep through literal earthquakes but wakens at the sound of footsteps and someone opening their door

they can also tell who is walking around by the sound of their footsteps alone

is quiet 80% of the time but has the decency to break out into song only when behind closed doors

big shower singer

is never present for gryffindor’s antics but laughs and says to do it again (with suggestions for them) when they see the video

reprimanded gryffindor for putting the microwave in their room but frequently used it.

a morning person

(there are 3 slytherins in my house and all of them are morning people, explain that.)

will keep their icon for netflix and other accounts (like their g-mail, instagram, or even myspace) recent, but the photo is never actually their face - just a weird aesthetic photo

unironically loves instagram stories

makes then religiously, too

has never seen gritty reboots like riverdale but watches youtube videos that hate on them

loved hayden christensen as anakin skywalker and will die defending him

laughed while reading this post - especially at their own idiocy

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

#hp #hogwarts #hogwarts houses #headcanons #hp headcanons #slytherin #gryffindor #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #slytherin headcanons #gryffindor headcanons #ravenclaw headcanons #hufflepuff headcanons #siblings

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feralphoenix · 4 years ago

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SONGS OF RESISTANCE: The View Myla Grants Us Of Hallownest’s Moths

hello again hollow knight fandom, i am back with my picante takes and ready to discuss two things i love: myla hollowknight and the moth tribe! Let Us Be Sad About Them Together.

as with my previous essay i’m going to be putting this fellow up on dreamwidth later for accessibility purposes since my layout text may be too small for high-res pc users. this time i’ll be attaching that in a reblog to avoid this post getting eaten by the dread tungle algorithms.

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR TONIGHT’S PROGRAM: This essay discusses colonialism and genocide both in real life and the fictional depictions in Hollow Knight, as well as racism in the zombie horror genre and in fandom.

ALSO: if youre from a christian cultural upbringing (whether currently practicing, agnostic/secular, or atheist now), understand that some of what i’m discussing here may challenge you. if thinking thru the implications of this particular part of hollow knight worldbuilding/lore is distressing for you, PLEASE only approach this essay when youre in a safe mindset & open to listening, and ask the help of a therapist or anti-racism teacher/mentor to help you process your thoughts & feelings. just like keep in mind that youre listening to an ethnoreligiously marginalized person and please be respectful here or wherever else youre discussing this dang essay

SONGS OF RESISTANCE: THE VIEW MYLA GRANTS US OF HALLOWNEST’S MOTHS

In this house we are all love Myla.

Well, in all fairness, there are probably plenty of Hollow Knight fans who aren’t interested in her character, since which fictional characters one attaches to is always a matter of personal preference. But she’s still well-loved for a minor NPC and inspires a high level of devotion in her fans. There’s nothing that whips folks into a frenzy like a cute character you can’t do anything to help, and unlike some other characters in Hollow Knight Myla’s fate leaves no room for ambiguity. Once you pick up the Crystal Heart you’re left with only two choices: Avoid her, or kill her.

A lot of Hollow Knight’s world is designed to make you care about it so that it will hurt more when Ghost’s violent skillset proves too limited to save something or someone. The consequences of Hallownest’s founding and policies have directly or indirectly caused a great deal of damage to everything, and chief among those consequences with massive damage and a wide splash range is the Infection. Much has been said elsewhere by other people about Hollow Knight’s predominating mood being a struggle against futility, with Ghost arriving at the eleventh hour and every new tragedy designed to make the player more desperate to find something actionable, only finding out by trial and error what’s beyond your personal ability to save.

Myla, in that sense, is a typical example of that worldbuilding. She’s a particular kind of stock character in the zombie horror genre, the innocent who falls victim to the plague and cannot be saved, wrenching audience hearts and demonstrating the stakes.

But Hollow Knight plays with the trappings of zombie horror in a very unusual way, one I find thematically fascinating.

For a quick overview, the “zombie” as we know it in popular culture is an appropriation of a voudou (the Black American spiritual practice) concept that deals with the fear of slavery killing one’s spirit. (People more versed in/with roots in voudou culture can give a much more comprehensive overview than this simplistic one.)

The zombie horror genre, especially in Western media, is part of the great white fragility stock plot trifecta (the other two being alien invasions and robot uprisings). Zombie horror in particular expresses white fears that marginalized ethnic groups will rise up violently in revenge for their mistreatment and destroy white society. The fear of “that which is human, which ‘humanity’ is not” (to borrow mecha visual novel Heaven Will Be Mine’s pithy term) and the extreme levels of violence towards human-but-not bodies typical of zombie horror are often an expression of such bigotries. This is, again, a subject that’s been discussed in greater depth and with more nuance elsewhere.

But what Hollow Knight does is take the ugly metaphors and it makes them literal, makes it harder to ignore the toxic subtext of the genre. The Infection is literally a native god’s revenge on the settlers who committed genocide* against her people. How the Pale King’s colonization of the crater negatively affected the preexisting groups of bugs underpins every level of the worldbuilding, as does Hallownest’s cruelty towards its neighbors.

Hollow Knight is a game that is about the tragedy of Western imperialism. It is one of the work’s central themes. There are a lot of conversations that need to be had about the ways these themes manifest and, on a real-world level, about fandom’s predisposition to avoid the subject.

But, for now, let’s get back to Myla. If she fits such a stock zombie horror archetype, and Hollow Knight uses zombie horror tropes to underline the conversation it attempts to have about colonialism, then what has Myla got to teach us about the overall worldbuilding?

There's two topics I’d like to broach here: First we’ll get into how the circumstances of Myla’s infection fit in to the implied role of Crystal Peak in pre-Hallownest society. Then let’s take a long look at the lyrics of Myla’s song and what it implies.

MYLA, THE CRYSTALS, AND THE HOLY MOUNTAIN

If you think about it, Myla is an interesting outlier compared to the other NPCs we encounter on the verge of succumbing to the Infection. Both Bretta and Sly are unhappy: Bretta is a lonely, anxious bundle of abandonment issues yearning for someone to sweep her off her feet; Sly misses his pupils and loved ones who’ve left him in death (we never learn who Esmy is or what they were to Sly, but we sure can tell they’re not around anymore). The temptation to dream away those sadnesses seems to play a part in their vulnerability to the Infection, and also why Ghost’s interruption brings them back to reality.

Not so Myla. She appears to be blissfully unaware of her fellow miners’ fate, and most of her dialogue prior to her infection (besides the song - we’ll get to that later) is about how much fun she’s having at her job and how much she enjoys Ghost’s occasional company.

Yet she still winds up infected when Ghost’s back is turned. Why?

Not to discard the possibility that Myla’s got her own issues too, but in her case there seems to be another likely cause at hand: The crystals. If hit with the Dream Nail before infected, she mentions that she can hear them “singing” and “whispering”.

Under the The Hunter’s Hot Takes section of the Hunter’s Journal entries on various Crystal Peak enemies, we can learn more about the crystals - particularly in the entries for the Husk Miner and Crystallized Husk.

Crystal Peak’s crystals were thought of as particularly precious in Hallownest and harvested en masse for use in luxury items and the like. To do so, the mining operation was set up throughout most of the mountain, though the area around its peak still remains largely untouched. However, there’s more to the crystals than just that. Like Myla, the Hunter notes that the crystals can be heard to sing very very softly if one listens closely enough.

Perhaps of even more interest than that is this particular comment he gives us, from the Crystallized Husk journal entry: “There is some strange power hidden in the crystals that grow up there in the peaks. They gleam and glow in the darkness, a bright point of searing heat in each one.”

I don’t think it’s a particularly revolutionary idea to point out that there’s some connection between the crystals and Radiance’s power; this is something many players have intuited just based on Myla’s dialogue. But, in order to understand what Myla is demonstrating about the game’s world I think it’s important to think about what that connection is.

Speaking of which, the local Whispering Root has two important clues for us: The phrases “light refracted” and “energy contained”.

The very top of Crystal Peak is one of the only places in the crater where the moths’ architecture has escaped Hallownest destroying it, and is the only place in the entire game setting where their religious iconography remains fully intact. There are stone monuments covered in their language (which has been destroyed with the rest of their culture) and the statue of the Radiance - this is easier to see in the Wanderer’s Journal tie-in book, but the huge stone arches upon the Crown represent Radi’s halo and its rays and encircle her when viewed head-on or from a distance instead of the side view we get in the game.

The crystals grown here were used by the moths to store and cultivate Radiance’s light. It’s impossible to know what sort of architecture/infrastructure existed inside the mountain before Hallownest stole it from the moths. But between the massive scope of her statue and all the texts at the Crown, and the fact that the moths were working with their literal actual god’s freely given power here, it can be safely asserted that Crystal Peak was a holy ground to them.

Hallownest didn’t care about the mind-boggling level of spiritual significance Crystal Peak must have had to the natives, though. To the Pale King and his people, the crystals are just a natural resource to be harvested for personal profit.

This is unfortunately a conflict that still plays out in colonized countries today. If you’re American, #NoDAPL probably comes to mind; Canada, Australia, and New Zealand are filled with these sorts of horror stories too. Settler disrespect for indigenous sacred grounds is a huge problem that needs addressing. If you’re looking at the story of Crystal Peak and thinking it’s very on-the-nose... maybe it needs to be.

Anyway, Myla is nowhere near as miserable as Bretta or Sly, but she still notices that something’s up with these crystals. She hears the voice coming from inside, and she’s curious, and she tries very very hard to listen to it... so she DOES end up hearing Radiance’s voice. Radiance’s real voice, not the songs and whispers inside the crystals: The voice of a frightened, angry, grieving god who knows there’s a new vessel running around in Hallownest, and doesn’t want any part of that. A voice that’s pleading for someone, anyone to kill this dangerous creature, and save her from the threat Ghost poses.

Between how freaked out Radi is to know Ghost is poking around, the tendency we see in her boss battles for her to panic and kneejerk blast things at full volume/vibrance when she’s panicking, and the way her dream broadcast seems to be only a one-way communication line while she’s in the Black Egg... naturally this spells disaster for poor Myla.

Similar to the Moss Prophet, this small tragedy is a demonstration of the eleventh-hour state the conflict is in: The Pale King has escalated this situation so far, and Radiance is so traumatized and isolated, that bystanders who might in a kinder timeline have become Radi’s allies instead get caught up in her AOE. Myla’s definitely not as aware of the overall situation as the Moss Prophet, since she’s a Hallownest bug and not an indigenous one the way they are. But she noticed things were not as they seemed, and she was curious. Who knows what new possibilities could have opened up, if Radiance was able to truly communicate with bugs in the outside world?

Small side note before we move on, but I’ve noticed a tendency among some folks who notice the missed connections to come down extra hard on Radiance and chalk Myla’s infection/Moss Prophet’s death down to deliberate cruelty on her part. I’d like to gently push back against this.

Living in a post-colonial world we all absorb some level of prejudice from our surroundings, and it’s important to take a look at our first assumptions about people (or, in this case, fictional characters lol) to examine whether these prejudices we’ve inherited have influenced those assumptions.

So, if your first instinct is to look at this situation and say the problem is that Radiance is being too harsh and too angry where she should have stepped back and softened her emotions for others’ benefit to gently persuade them to her side... Please think about how when people of color and non-Christians express anger or hurt at our treatment, or even so much as calmly assert our boundaries, white/Christian viewers often view us as much more aggressive and threatening than we actually are. The “angry black woman” trope is a good example of this stereotype. You may want to look up the HuffPost article “Why It’s So Hard to Talk to White People About Racism” and its discussion of white fragility to further understand this phenomenon.

It is absolutely essential to remember the complex power dynamics in play in Hollow Knight and that the Pale King deliberately imprisoned Radiance (who had at this point already gone through an extreme amount of trauma) in a way that would compromise her ability to communicate with others. If you can extend compassion to characters like Ghost or the Pale King and empathize with their motives/feelings when their actions cause harm, but you are not willing to do the same with Radiance... it’s important to sit down with yourself and examine why that is.

THE MEANING BEHIND MYLA’S SONG

Okay, let’s switch gears and take a look at the lyrics to the song Myla sings, since it’s got some interesting things to tell us too.

The first verse, which you can hear from Myla the first time you meet her/before you acquire Vengeful Spirit, goes:

Bury my mother, pale and slight Bury my father with his eyes shut tight Bury my sisters, two by two, And then when you’re done, let's bury me too

There’s not much particularly story-related going on here except foreshadowing that Myla may in fact wind up dying. Most of what we get here is that a) this is a song about burying the dead and b) it’s morbid as fuck.

Curious, a new player might think of the mention of burying the dead; there are a lot of corpses just lyin’ around all over the ground - something that might lead one to believe Hallownest didn’t have such a custom. Later players will discover the Resting Grounds, confirming Hallownest did bury its dead... and that the gravekeepers are all dead too.

Let’s look at the second verse, which Myla remembers and will sing after you pick up Vengeful Spirit:

Bury the knight with her broken nail, Bury the lady, lovely and pale Bury the priest in his tattered gown, Then bury the beggar with his shining crown

This right here is where it gets interesting. The first verse describes the singer’s family as dead or dying, but the people we’re burying now sure do have some parallels to Hallownest's ruling body, don’t they?

Among Hallownest’s Great Knights, three of them - Dryya, Isma, and Ze’mer - were women. They are also very dead or might as well be: Dryya was killed by Traitor Lord’s resistance, Isma is a tree spreading acid through the kingdom’s waters to cut off access to the City of Tears, and Ze’mer hung up her nail after her mantis girlfriend’s death and only lingers on as a revenant.

While there aren’t any characters who are described in-text as “priests” in Hallownest, the idea of a tattered gown might bring Lurien the Watcher to mind, or perhaps the Soul Sanctum’s magicians before they went rogue.

The lovely, pale lady in the song can only refer to the White Lady, Hallownest’s queen. And there’s only one man in the game who has a shining crown: The Pale King. The lyrics are particularly derisive towards him in a way they aren’t to any of the other figures listed, too.

So, it seems like whoever came up with this song didn’t think much of Hallownest. With that in mind it’s hard to think that it originated from any sort of faction loyal to the king.

We’re missing a line from the third verse, which Myla sings after you’ve beaten Soul Master and she’s beginning to become infected. But what we do see of it is Huge in terms of lore:

Bury my body and cover my shell, [...] What meaning in darkness? Yet here I remain I’ll wait here forever ‘til light blooms again

So. The “protagonist” of this song’s family has died, and they expect to die as well, but even unto death they're waiting for Hallownest to fall and the light to return.

The moths became Hallownest’s gravekeepers after the Pale King forcibly assimilated them. Under the Pale King’s light, the moths forgot Radiance and most of their original culture, but Seer tells us in her final monologue that a few individuals remembered just enough to pass bits and pieces down through the generations. This secret resistance among the moths was what kept Radiance alive and prevented her from being sealed away entirely.

This song Myla sings comes from that moth resistance.

Code songs amongst oppressed ethnic groups are very much a real thing, especially when groups have to communicate or signal each other within hostile parties’ hearing. Since I’m American (and had a big ol crush on Harriet Tubman as a little kid lmao!) the first thing that came to mind for me when I made this connection was the working songs escaped Black slaves used in the Underground Railroad.

These have another point in common with the moth gravedigger song Myla sings, in that they enter the general cultural consciousness through out-group people who don’t know the true context. If you ever pick up a book of American baby songs, you’ll probably find some Underground Railroad code songs in there - often because generations ago white kids heard these songs from Black slaves or servants, and went on to sing the same songs to their children with zero awareness of what the songs were really for.

So some Hallownest bug somewhere probably heard the moths’ song and liked it and sang it in a context totally divorced from its original one, and it got spread around and passed down to become one of Myla’s old favorites, with her seemingly not realizing the meaning behind the lyrics. The moths’ song of devotion to their lost god survived them as a people.

This is some VERY realistic and layered worldbuilding. There is so much to glean from just one NPC’s dialogue when put together with other clues. Of course all of it is SAD and DEPRESSING, but Hollow Knight is a tragedy with a super unsubtle point to make about the unsustainability of Western imperialism.

What happens to Myla is awful, and upsetting, and unfair. So was what happened to the moths and their sacred ground, and to Radiance too. It’s important to understand the scope of the conflict that led to all this happening, trace it to its roots, and lay it at the feet of the ones responsible for engendering all this tragedy in the first place: Hallownest and the Pale King.

*A NOTE ABOUT MY USE OF THE TERM “GENOCIDE”

This is a tangent, but since there’s some debate about whether it’s appropriate to define the Pale King’s actions towards indigenous bug nations as genocide, allow me to cite the official definition of genocide here.

The Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (the Genocide Convention for short) defines genocide like this:

Genocide is any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, religious, or racial group, as such:

A) Killing members of the group

B) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group

C) Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part

D) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group

E) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group

Among the abovelisted, Hallownest is guilty of A (Deepnest and the moths), B (Deepnest physically/the moths vis a vis brainwashing), C (the mantis tribe and the hive), and E (the moths, which we know from Marmu, and possibly the mosskin also - Isma is mosskin).

Then there is cultural genocide, i.e. acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, religious, or racial group's way of life. Let’s look at the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (DRIP) and how it defines cultural genocide:

A) Any action which has the aim or effect of depriving them of their integrity as distinct peoples, or of their cultural values or ethnic identities

B) Any action which has the aim or effect of dispossessing them of their lands, territories or resources

C) Any form of population transfer which has the aim or effect of violating or undermining any of their rights

D) Any form of assimilation or integration by other cultures or ways of life imposed on them by legislative, administrative or other measures

E) Any form of propaganda directed against them

Hallownest is guilty of every item on this list. A: The moths, attempted with Deepnest. B: The moths, the mantises, the flukes, the mosskin; also attempted with Deepnest. C: The moths, the mantises, the flukes. D: The moths; attempted with the mantises and Deepnest. E: The mantises and Deepnest.

Any sort of discussion of the wide-reaching harm Radiance caused MUST include the context that the Infection is her response to multiple levels of genocide. Discussion that does not include this context loses nuance and simplifies the conflict and power dynamics portrayed in the game in ways that reflect real-life racism and Christian supersessionism.

Now, this is NOT some sort of holier than thou Fandom Purity dunk to say that it’s Bad or Wrong to care about Hallownest’s nobility. Like, one of my favorite characters in this dang game is the White Lady, who spent a long ass time enabling her husband’s actions before she finally walked out on him over the mass infanticide thing. You can, and it is okay to, love TPK and want rehabilitation for him while acknowledging that the dude has done objectively bad things.

I just feel that it’s important to keep things in perspective so that we don’t wind up stirring a bunch of real-world bigotry into our fandom funtimes. A lot of us don’t have the luxury of turning our brains off and simply Not Seeing It, because these same sorts of dynamics are behind a lot of the hardships that threaten our everyday stability.

It’s pretty hard to have conversations about those things in real life if one can’t even recognize them in fiction. So, this might be a good opportunity to start practicing anti-racism so we can better utilize that ideology in real life, where the stakes are much higher.

#hollow knight #hollow knight spoilers #hollow knight meta #myla hollow knight #the radiance #hk myla #hk radiance #essay #long post under cut -

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good-oldfashioned-lover-girl · 1 month ago

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yesssss like on the surface it’s about love and they’re finally building up the courage to say but underneath it’s such a mixture of emotions that come with that and it touches on them all so flawlessly and even the music itself builds throughout the song sort of mirroring that like parts of the song sound so genuinely distraught despite the actual lyrics being quite hopeful and then suddenly but like perfectly it transitions to to like you can almost hear her smiling as she sings? like it’s so sweet and so, as you say, bittersweet

yesss like your mind has been transported to a more comforting place/time but part of it is still stuck in the present moment longing so it’s sorta a battle between is this making me happy or sad NO OML it’s such the perfect level of contemplating death, something humans are so fascinated in doing bc truly we can never know the answer, and leaving it as ‘well im content just being dead and whatever comes after that as long as im peaceful it doesn’t have to be anything’ which honestly i feel so unbelievably deeply like after all this time all she rly wants to do is rest but, similar to the question of what comes after death, people just cannot leave her alone and let her rest bc that’s not something that’s possible for the living (i mean she’s literally writing a song about her thoughts on the matter) in both a positive and negative light, yes the inability to actually let things go can be seen as negative but that also comes with, similar to what you say, the curiosity and want to understand which is actually so lovely bc if it wasn’t for that we’d all be bankers and dull jobs as opposed to the fun jobs existing like archaeologists and photographers and all sorts that just cannot leave things be. also wow you write so stunningly im just sorta sat here reading it over and over bc yesss when ppl die everything done funerals, burying or cremating, scattering ashes all of it isnt for the dead but for the living even religious ideas of what happens after death are to give peace of mind to the living bc that’s something ppl have longed for since ancient civilisations i mean they didn’t create the underworld for the fun of it but bc for all of time ppl have needed to know what happens after death, and for some people the most reassuring idea is just that finally ‘the loudness of mind has gone since i died’ bc escapism rly is what many people long for, the idea that even if everything goes wrong, one day it will be ok

ngl for knitting song every single image makes me melt it’s so pretty i mean all her songs are but there’s something about the simplicity of the words there’s something about the words ‘sorry i’m repetitive’ ‘so long as it’s the thread not the depths of my love’ like it’s just so simple there’s no complexity to it but then ofc there is bc it’s one of her songs but still

also i need music recs bc the music isn’t musicing atm

okayyy sooo lizzy mcalpine has my heart and soul (pancakes for dinner always gets me right in the feels) and also paris paloma’s new album?? It’s so cathartic and omg bones on the beach is one of my favourites (I think it’s also a really lovely exploration into like the romanticism of death and just captures this kind of dreamy but world weary feeling that kind of just settles in your bones and just kind of quietly suffers or rots there) (AND THE KNITTING SONG IS SO SOFT AND WARM AND GENTLE AND COMFORTING) (also been listening to so much queen lately because good omens)

#nah everything i write is 3x too long and i have to cut it down so you’re only making it possible for me to not do that #so rly you’re the only one suffering here

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jiminrings · 4 years ago

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Can I request a drabble, hobi is kinda like a band singer and Y/N is like his old time friend and they like had a falling out bc he got super successful but years after they're like together again? IS IT TOO SPECIFIC UHM :")

parallel

pairing: hoseok x y/n

wordcount: 4k

glimpse: hobi’s kind of an asshole and is vERY much emotionally repressed, y/n’s serotonin is dependent on wearing bridesmaid gowns, the dwindling one-sided pining anD the everlasting question of where the fuck was hoseok when you needed him :D // gif is from pinterest!

notes: this drabble really hits close to home and tysm for the request babe!! even if i’m a month late yeesh :O

you can’t believe yourself either when you say it

but holy shit — weddings are definitely your thing!

there’s something about the union of marriage that gets your head into overdrive but in a gOOD way

there’s just something so pulling about last-minute changes and family drama and awkward trips to the restroom that make your mind mHMMMM THIS IS IT CHIEF

yea granted that not every wedding you go and participate in isn’t exactly straight out of a rom-com

lmao sometimes it’s so obvious that the bride doesn’T love the groom but hey!!! who’s keeping tabs :D

you love wedding environments so much that here you are, two years out of uni and a couple of gigs later — couples are LITERALLY fighting over you

heh not to brag but uh

you weren’t recognized as best wedding planner for two years in a row and have your face in multiple covers of bridal magazines and such

time magazine recognized you as one of the most influential people in the scene last year but hey !!!!! no big deal lads

“i am asking you for just one minute, y/n!! stop being a wedding planner and start being my maid of honor!!”

nayeon exasperates and tugs you by your sleeve, having already noticed your second nature of taking charge the moment you entered the hall

after all, this is just cake tasting! that’s why she’s brought her maid of honor to help her out, nOT immediately go fishing for a clipboard

“well if the planner you hired wasn’t so sloppy-...” it’s a fact! he relies too much on his tablet and doesn’t even have any paper with him, and even if he’s already using a tablet, he doesn’t even use different colors to mark out!

apparently nayeon can’t handle the truth because she’s stamping her hand to your mouth that’s already a frown, about to suffocate you if only you didn’t bite it

>:|

y/n - 1 | jisoo’s hand - 0

you’re just a lil bit cranky alright

the last wedding you’ve catered to was just three days ago, and well you’re thankful for your job!!! really!!! bc not everyone is as booked as you nor sought-for

but there’s something about her wedding that puts you off :((

she’s very kindly yet firmly told you that no, you would absolutely not be her wedding planner and coordinator

“b-but i-“

“i want you to relax! and it’s-...”

“we said-“

“we said when we were kids that we’d plan each other’s wedding, but we didn’t swear on it! and i want you to-...”

“y-you told-“

“i told you that we didn’t have a wedding planner yet so you’d intentionally clear your schedule for me! and here we are-...”

“i’ll cry-“

“aww you big baby, save it for the wedding! i told you, just relax, m’kay? let yoongi handle the planning, and you do the unwinding.”

goddamn yoongi

yoongi who’s a wedding planner in his sPARE time could fuck right off

you don’t care if he’s very persuasive and firm and happened to book nayeon’s wedding even it was peak season :((

you don’t wanna admit it, but being a wedding planner has basically been your personality trait for the past years and it’s hard to cope when your job is to not.... plan and worry

anyways besides that

you’re a little iffy because nayeon’s wedding is your wake-up call

you’ve been planning weddings.... but uh when the FUCK is yours

u are so tempted to put a sock over your head and just yell gIVE ME A RING!!! PUT IT IN THE BAG

unfortunately, you don’t even have someone in your life to readily propose to you

you would have had someone, actually —

if only hoseok didn’t wake up one day and decide to remove you from his life

if only your childhood friend didn’t suddenly decide that you’re not worthy of his attention and time!!!

god he thinks he’s a bigshot

and well yea ok he IS a bigshot

who doesn’t know jung hoseok at this point :((

you’ve always figured that he’d be successful at whatever path he chooses and for a moment, you feel sorry for him that he’s stuck in such a state of mundaneness

he’s stuck between home and school and since he has no choice — you

your each other’s day one!!! the moment your mom went home from the hospital, her first instinct was to knock on hoseok’s mom’s door and then iMMEDIATELY present you to her

the two of them are absolute best friends and why not make our babies the same way ya know????

the two of you were apparently so close as babies that when one was crying, the other would comfort

and you weren’t even a year old then????

you’ve shared cribs and milk bottles and clothes and everything in between with hobi

so why is it that when you’re just almost at the peak of your life with graduation, he just suddenly decides to drop you?

he’s suddenly too cool for you as if he hasn’t spent countless nights crying on your shoulder for any inconveniece that gets brought up

he can’t even meet your eyes :(((

that’s why graduation is the blandest and emptiest day you could recall

hoseok is over there with his bandmates looking the absolute hAPPIEST and you’re there by the corner.,.,. alone by yourself feeling like your cap has the words dropped by jung hoseok :D all over it

he’s at his peak and at the top of his life performing and touring, whenever and wherever

he’s happy

but without you in it :(

the irrational (and probably rational) part in your head is beyond infuriated at him because atleast offer an explanation!!! if you did wrong at one point, then he should tell you!!!

not suddenly pretend that you were nEVER in his life

even his mom feels guilty and ashamed over his son’s actions so she orders flowers from the shop signed underneath your company, then send it back to you

for awhile she tried to pretend that it was hoseok but no :((( that man will physically convulse if he doesn’t add (atleast) three hearts after his name

you hate him so much that you still religiously visit his instagram and wonder if he could see your likes despite a couple other million liking the same posts

you hate him so much that he’s number one on every single thing in your spotify wrapped

you hate him sO much that you wonder who’s behind the songs his band plays and how you’d wish that you’d be the one he’s writing about

“is the cake that... perfect?”

nayeon gently places a hand on your shoulder to which you flinch and she backs off because christ i’m nOT taking the cake away from you!!!

oh my god why are you tearing up

“yeah, yeah! it’s so good. you should try it nayeon!” you’re scrambling to scrape up your plate, almost shoving the fork into her mouth as she squeals with the sudden attack

yoongi has ???? hovering around his head but this is nOT about you my man

he sneaks a look to the bride’s plate and uh-huh... yup..... she has the same moist chocolate fudge cake with coffee ganache on her alright

the topic of hoseok that you bring up to yourself, one that no one knows (not even nayeon!!!), is just something that never seems to vacate your mind fully

it’s been two years and you’re still so touchy and you dON’T KNOW WHY

he probably doesn’t even think about you when he’s drunk and bored

“this champagne must be so... nice?”

nayeon thinks out loud as you’re once again crying into doing your maid of honor duties

she’s a lil worried if she’s being honest but you always whisk her away when she’s about to ask

like right now :D

“are you-...”

“i just can’t believe you’re getting married!! wow, you’re so cool. with the love of your life. then the two of you could be cool together after the wedding. you aren’t gonna forget me once you’re married, are you? nayeon do you think that i would ever be married-...”

you should just accept it now :((

you’re a little bit of a mess and a half underneath your pantsuits and walkie-talkies and the special pride you’d carry whenever the couple mentions you in their wedding speeches

absolutely WHY in the hell do you think about hoseok when it comes to weddings???

it’s almost a pavlovian response when you instruct the people to open the doors and the bride to start walking and your mind would iNSTANTLY think about him

it’s sometimes awkward when the couple would ask ah !!!! ms. y/n u are such a world-renowned wedding planner !!!! your own wedding must’ve been magnificent :D

aha actually about dat.,.,

you get tons of gifts of gratitude from just a single client alone and you don’t have hoseok and his stupidly powerful arms to help carry boxes back to your car

you don’t have him to give untouched and left-over flowers to

you don’t have him to remind you when you’re getting a little ahead of yourself over just talking to sponsors and trying to squeeze in as much as you could for an initial budge

you don’t have hoseok, in all his glory, to put his hand on the small of your back when you’re talking to how you need the fireworks to start the moment the band starts playing ice ice baby and the vendor does nOT need to know why it’s the song chosen by the couple

it’s what he’d do when you’re trying to fit two semesters’ worth of notes into a pricey A3 notebook that you’ve bought

and just how many weddings do you plan and coordinate, even within just a span of two week?

a lot.

often.

you think about hoseok a lot. often. oftenly a lot.

but aha nOT TODAY!!!

today’s nayeon’s wedding and you’re not gonna ruin it for her by projecting your yearning into your best friend’s wedding that clearly isn’t yours

10/10 she’d probably stop reciting her vows to ask you why you’re sniffling

your only source of distraction is your gown!!!

your maid of honor is the absolute pRETTIEST and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel gorgeous in it

it’s floor-length silk!!! fLOOR-LENGTH !! SILK !! GOWN

it’s in a deep mauve with an off-shoulder situation and a little risqué bit of cleavage!!! cinches right at the top of your waist and poofs a little and oh my god mayhaps you aRE pretty

god hoseok may have not written you a song, but sean kingston dEFINITELY did

nayeon knew you’d be catching everyone’s attention as much as her wedding dress would and she’s absolutely happy and fine with it!!

in fact she’s strategically practiced her throws for her bouquet so you’d catch it and your gown would nOt go to waste

having a wedding happen right where you are, but being in it as a guest instead of a planner, is just so much... calmer

you’re not fixing the chaos but you’re just watching it!!! if you feel a little more bubbly then you’re gonna partake in it hee-hee

yoongi’s actually not so bad

he could just be a little too lax which ends up with him being lost and distraught

you could see so much of you in him when you were just starting out and it’s endearing actually

(( nayeon’s told you in passing that she once told yoongi that you were her best friend and he looked both intimidated and awed at the same time ))

the only thing you help yoongi with is sending him a thumbs-up every now and then and he perks uP because that’s the signal that he’s doing a good job and not fucking up

nayeon looks so beautiful and you’re already tearing up fixing her veil :((

you know how wedding photographers and videographers LOVE people crying???? they r probably eating your shit up so quick that you won’t be surprised if you take up atleast half of the same-day edit of their wedding film

there’s something so serene about the hecticness everyone’s indulged themselves in

you’re grinning when you walk down the aisle because you realize that omg you haven’t doNE this in a long time!!!

the last time you did was testing out the aisle for a client that wanted it ala crazy rich asians and you had to walk back and forth cOLD-ASS water with damp rolled-up pant cuffs before they got the temperature and the levels right

nah you should definitely know how it’d be because after all :D you aRE the consultant for that scene in crazy rich asians :D no biggie :D

it’s such a serene blast to see everyone happy and in their element

you’re sitting the reception out bc yoongi very kindly pleaded to please give him notes and promising that he’d never tell it to anyone else

the whole planning process for nayeon and not oNCE did he bring a notebook..,., but he just hAPPENS to have one when you’re telling him how to say no to your client

“listen, you have to tell them in the sincerest way possible, that you tried everything. it gets them going when you tell them that you even pleaded with the vendors, but don’t go too low on your knees, alright? and then after that, you say a strict no. no, because their choice of flowers is absolutely sHIT for their tie-dye theme they’re so adamant about!”

yoongi has never listened so intently

not even when his roommate lists out their grocery checklist

“mhmm. and if they still push, should i give them an ultimatum? or tell them about a wedding that totally happened that did exactly what they were planning, and how much the guests hated it?”

okay nOW he’s talking

“what you do is...”

the buzz of the reception never really dies down because it’s barely even starting!! the couple’s still finishing up on their pictorial which gives everyone time to get to the venue and freshen up or get last-minute gifts lmao

you know that it’s starting when the band or the dj starts doing polished mic checks

mic check! one, two, three! sKRRRRRRRRRRRRRRA

no, no

there’s something definitely wrong

the rolling and the lull of routine words just seem so familiar

mic check! J-A-Y! H-O-P-E! J-HOPE! jung-...

fucking

gOD

that’s hoseok.

that is most dEFINITELY hoseok

you turn your back to see the stage set-up and god...... fuck

it’s someone you haven’t seen in the flesh for two years yet spent the years of your life with before that

he looks sickening in his black mandarin-collared suit with thick white lining on it wITH his hair styled up and parted to the site

it’s even more sickening for you because you don’t actually know if you can mANAGE to be here

you’re standing up abruptly and yoongi squawks at that because he is the furthesT thing from being finished about asking how to make the guests arrive on time without holding a field trip assembly-like type of line with the megaphone

the fastest way out was dashing through the front part and you must have forgotten that hoseok has a knack for catching things with his perfectly good eyesight

“y/n?”

ok what now

he mumbles your name to the mic, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes trail the speed-walking speck of mauve from in front of him

his little question to himself must have gotten people more than curious

they’re already mORE than curious because it’s his goddamn band that’s playing!!!! and the fees are not cheap and it’s practically impossible to book them!!!

but jungkook, their drummer, was a close friend of the groom’s and alright.,.,. okay maybe we CAN play at weddings now

ok hoseok’s mind is probably just playing tricks on him and he should finish setting up before the lights dim again for what they insist is the 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓬𝓴 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻

but then he can’t help but look oNE last time

then he sees the watch he’s gifted you on his wrist — one that he was supposed to give you at graduation but later made his mom give it to you instead and not say that it was from him

...

....

whew he might need his inhaler for this one and he doesn’t even hAVE asthma

oh my god what the hELL is hoseok doing here????

you haven’t seen him for two years, and the moment you do, it’s in your best friend’s wedding with no date present??

you’re clearly panicking and the only form of caffeine you’ve gotten is the pre-game of getting a few bites from the coffee ganache in nayeon’s wedding cake that she was munching on while getting her makeup done

you know what!! it’s fine

it’s totally fine :D

hoseok is just hoseok and you’re not gonna be intimated by the man you’ve been loving in the sidelines from practically your whole life :D

it’s not a big deal!

besides, people are looking for you bc you’re supposed to give the opening toast to welcome nayeon and her groom in

you’re walking, you’re talking, aaaaaaaand-

yeah this is not nOT a big deal

you’re crumbling from the inside out because seeing hoseok is just too painful after two years of wondering where you could’ve went wrong and what could’ve happened if the two of you didn’t fall out

you feel especially bitter when hoseok starts singing their famous song about love and everything in between

everyone’s sWOONING and on their feet and you’re literally just there vibrating with how furious you are

you keep downing the good champagne as iF it’s gonna get you drunk

yoongi has a clue that the server must be a little dizzy having to go and back forth to your table so he just offers his portion to you

you’re so goddamn busy and absorbed with loathing him that you don’t even turn your back to notice that his eyes keep flickering to you

even at the cheesiest lyric, hobi expects that you’d atleast LOOK at him for that one but nOOOO your champagne flute and the blondie beside you is just much more interesting

you’re buzzing with anger that you aren’t enjoying this reception At All

you fail to even recognize that nayeon’s intentionally had your favorite food to be served!!! and you have an extra portion delivered to your table!!!

you just want your suffering to eND wow absolutely how much longer could this go

you’re so busy with cussing the whole ordeal in your head that you didn’t even notice how the band isn’t playing anymore and instead everyone’s swooning over the cake

it’s lost in you that hoseok’s shooed yoongi from his chair, sitting right beside you and even scooting closer until his knees bump to your own

and that’s when it sinks in

hobi doesn’t even have time to tell you how beautiful you look because you’ve gone straight to seething him

“for the record, i want you to know that i hate you.”

...

okay hoseok didn’t expect that

for all he knows, the two of you even vOWED to never say the h word even if it’s meant jokingly!!

it’s a lethal word and the two of you collectively agreed to never play with it in regards to saying to one another

but well here you are

you’re saying it as if you’ve never been more sure of anything in your whole life

you feel actually relieved to say it to him right to his face, a miniscule weight lifted from your shoulders while your arms are crossed just by looking at him

hoseok does you one better with a timid chuckle, looking down on his rings that he’s fiddling with nervously

“yeah. i hate me too.”

.... oh

you’re perplexed at his reply so much so that you’re speechless

you’ve been keeping to yourself what you should say to him the moment you see him for two years and now that he agrees to what you’ve just said.,.,.,

oh fuck that

“i hate you so much, hoseok! i don’t even know what i did wrong and i asked even your own mother what’s wrong with me! did you know that you are, without a doubt, so fucking selfish???”

you exclaim as quietly as you could but that doesn’t stop people from glancing because the two most-known people in the room, besides the bride and groom, are having what seems to be an... intimate conversation with how close the two of you are??

“did you even try once to consider how painful it was for me to wonder why i just am the way that i am? or is that even too big of an inconveniece for you to think about because you’re so busy?”

“did you suddenly get too big for me, huh?” you ask straightly without malice, not even thinking about the double meaning because clearly, you’re too PRESSED lightly jabbing your finger to his chest

right he deserves that

hoseok’s fucked up big-time, that much he knows

his eyes are actually stinging right now and he would ask you for your handkerchief that you used to always carry for him but uH he thinks he doesn’t deserve any of that

“why couldn’t you just tell me what was in your mind? you know that nothing would change whatever it was that-”

“i love you, okay?”

hoseok interrupts you with his mumble before he sets his eyes down once again on your watch

you’re speechless for long this time

“..... w-what?”

okay maybe he fucked up even more

“listen i-...”

“if you love me, a single text wouldn’t have hurt, hobi!!”

your chest doesn’t hurt anymore but it iS constricting with the amount of emotions and scenarios you’re trying to process

he’s kinda lost because oh my god you aren’t mAD anymore!!

and you don’t look fazed that he just declared his love for you

“i dropped you because i-i — i don’t want the people i love seeing me fuck up, y’know? i finished uni for the sake of it, and i didn’t even know if the band thing would work out!!”

“but baby it dID work out!!!!”

jesus christ hoseok may be a fucking iDIOT

you’re shaking him by the shoulders and he actually has to stand up so he wouldn’t fall by your ministrations

you feel so happy because your processing was just about to be finished, equal parts relieved and happy and maybe a tiny bit confused still

“it did work out because look at you now!! hobi, you could’ve just called me and i would’ve accepted the call before it even rings!!” you’re happily frustrated with him that you push him until the two of you are in the dance floor, his mouth curving up both in disbelief and giddiness

“i didn’t because i thought-...”

he’s interrupted by a swift and tight hug to his middle, his arms moving on their own to envelope you in his warmth

the top of your head still smells the same :D

his purpose is lost before he gathers his bearings once again, freezing in his stance before weakly attempting to push you off

“... you were married.”

the harsh sQUINT of your eyes you’re giving him prompt him to explain

why is he so nervous

“i-i go to your instagram? and well you uh, you posted this pic of you in the middle of the aisle???? you had your back turned and your silhouette’s seen then you were holding a bouquet!!! then after that, i-i never opened your account. jesus christ, is your husband here with you, y/n? what am i supposed to-...”

the realization’s starting to sink into hoseok because it’s something he’s shoved to the back of his head and now he’s seeing it straight-on

you’re throwing your head back laughing at him :D

great

now he’s both heartbroken AND a fool

there’s a gentle kiss on his cheek, one he didn’t expect and one he doesn’t hate

“i’m a wedding planner.”

god now this is just so fucking funny

the two of you fell out and remained distanced because of just a series of unprecedented miscommunications!!!

the whole thing is so ridiculous that it actually feels light and relieving to talk about

“you’re.... a wedding planner,” he mumbles once again for confirmation, his loose arms around your waist now tightening

oh my god

hoseok starts chuckling to himself out of delight, turning to full-on cackles with you at how much the two of you have just been beside each other like parallel lines

“i need to make up the past two years to you.”

he declares seriously as a promise, pressing a tender wet kiss to your cheek that gets you giggling

“only if you write me a song,” you do him one better, kissing him on the corner of his mouth

“don’t you know that most of them are about you? anyways, you should plan our wedding once it happens,” he’s forward with his words, having waited long enough that he nuzzles his nose to yours

you’re gonna do him one even better

you’re gonna go right for the kill, the truth spilling out of you before you kiss him longingly, for the first time that it feels that it’s been something you’ve always yearned for

“don’t you know that you’re in my mind for every single one?”

#feedback pls and thank you :D YEEEEET LAST PIECE FOR 2020!!!!#hoseok #jung hoseok #hoseok imagine #hoseok imagines #hoseok drabble #hoseok drabbles #hoseok au #hoseok oneshot #hoseok oneshots #hoseok x reader #hoseok x y/n #hoseok angst #hoseok angst imagine #hoseok fluff #hoseok fluff imagine #hoseok fluff imagines #hoseok fic rec #hoseok fic recs

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