#and its mine and my husband's anniversary.

[doctorcanon]

I cant fucking wait to get blackout drunk in a pretty dress.

[kawaiianimeredhead]

.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Stolen Moments: A Fairy Tale

A spur-of-the-moment story for @inklings-challenge

The princess steps into the center of a whirling masquerade. She is resplendent in green as the Queen of May. A man slips through the crowd and stands before her, dressed all in brown as the Autumn King. He bows with a flourish, silently asking for a dance.

She stands like stone. “You should not be here,” she says.

“Can I not dance with my wife?”

He reaches for her hand. She pulls it away. “I have no husband.”

“In this place, no. Yet I remember otherwise,” he says. “And so do you.”

She turns on her heel and strides away. He follows, quick as ever. The dancers part around them like water. She scowls. He was always too clever for her, always too quick. Even a world of her making bends to accommodate him.

“Do you know what I’ve done to find you?” he asks. “The countries I’ve crossed? The mountains I’ve climbed? I’ve fought gryphons and giants. Searched for treasures lost since the invention of time. Flown to the moon and tunneled to the center of the earth.”

“I’m sure you enjoyed yourself immensely.”

“I bargained with the four winds, gave up my shadow, traded three days of my life just to have this moment with you.”

“I am sorry you wasted your time,” she says. “Do what you will, you cannot take me from here.”

“No,” he agrees. “You are trapped here by your own will, and only by your will can you escape.”

She chose this day well when she arranged her escape. The grandest ball the Mountain King ever held, the day of her sixteenth birthday. Long before she ever met that too-curious trickster who stole away her heart with cheap promises. Here there is music, beauty, bounty, every pleasure she can imagine. She will gladly live in this day forever if it means freedom from her ties to him.

“You think you can persuade me,” she sneers.

He laughs. “No one in the twelve worlds can do that.”

“You think you can steal me.”

Even behind his mask, she can see his gaze darken. She has offended him. “I will not steal a wife.”

“What do you call our wedding day?”

“You chose me.”

“Do you call it choosing, when you hid your true face behind so many lies?”

“You had your own secrets.”

“Do you blame me for hiding them?”

“No,” he says.

She stops. Of all the things she imagined him saying, this was not one of them.

“No,” he says again. “You were right to keep your secrets. I was wrong to seek them out.”

She turns to look at him. He removes his mask, revealing his deceptively young face. His eyes, once blue, have turned greenish-gray. His face has three jagged scars.

“You hid from me,” he said. “As I hid from you. I should have been patient--proved that you could trust me. Instead, I forced my way into your secrets and destroyed everything. I'm sorry.”

She is speechless. She expected excuses. Dazzling explanations.She had never expected contrition.

He reaches beneath his jacket and removes a small glass pendant. It shines the same bright blue his eyes had once been.

“This is yours,” he said.

Her heart. Taken from her in a childhood curse so long ago. Only her husband could put it in its proper place, if it remained unbroken during five years of marriage. Prince of thieves that he once had been, he had found it and broken it on the eve of their second anniversary.

“You repaired it,” she said.

“I replaced it. With mine.”

She has seen him in a million lies. This is not one of them.

“You may stay here if you wish,” he says. “I came only to atone. I do not expect you to forgive me.”

He places the pendant in her hand, bows, then turns away.

When he leaves, she knows she need never see him again.

“Wait,” she says. She removes her mask. “Don’t leave without your wife."

He stops. The other dancers disappear.She puts her hand in his and kisses him as she did on their wedding day.

He is alight with joy as she pulls away. "Does this mean--?"

“I forgive you,” she says.

He laughs aloud.

The heart he gave to her, she freely gives to him. The blue returns to his eyes as their hearts are restored, new and whole.

As the curse crumbles around them, they leave the ballroom behind.

[zannolin]

was sitting by a waterfall reading today and i look up for a minute and the lady one bench over asked me what i was reading. i held up my copy of fellowship of the ring and she grinned and held up her copy of return of the king and we both went :D! at each other for a second before she reached into her bag and pulled out her husband's copy of fellowship which was the exact same edition as mine and explained she thought i'd borrowed their book for a minute and it was just really funny and cool. later i ran into her in the bathroom and we had a conversation about the books and how i'd gone to see return of the king in theatres for its 20th anniversary and how if they have another son they're naming him after tolkien or something and i don't even know her name but idk it was just cool i love talking to strangers who love the same things as you. of all the waterfalls in the national park, in the state, in the world, we just happened to be reading lord of the rings at the same one together this september. the world is vast and strange and beautifully familiar :)

[samott]

Ez volt mar itt, olvastam, de nem talalom. Megkerestem a redditen, link lesz a vegen, de legyen meg itt egyben:

My missing husband came home, but I just know it isn't him

My husband went missing six months ago. Just... went out to work one day and never came home. It was a horrible shock to the whole neighbourhood, because things like that just didn't happen in our little slice of white-picket-fence suburbia. The police launched an investigation, and the neighbourhood watch sent out search parties, but no one ever found any evidence to indicate what had happened to him. Our families were devastated. Recently, the missing posters have been taken down or papered over. The updates from the police became less frequent and dwindled away. I accepted that, hard as it was to admit, my Rick wasn't coming back.

Until he did.

A week ago, I was in the back garden watering my petunias when I heard the garden gate creak open. I jerked my head in that direction and- there he was. Exactly the same as he was the day he disappeared. Same windswept blond hair and bright blue eyes, same curl to his pink lips. I was in shock. Our families had mourned for him, and yet there he was, standing in our garden like he had just popped out for milk or something. When I asked where he had been, he said he didn't know. He couldn’t remember anything about the last six months.

All our family and friends are beside themselves with joy. They almost can't believe it. But that's just the thing: I don't believe it.

Look, I understand how crazy this all sounds, I do. Our families would never believe me, and I can’t go to the police unless I want to end up in a straightjacket. But I just know that the man sleeping next to me isn't my husband. I don't know what to do. I know I should be happy, but I'm not. I'm terrified. I don’t know much about anything supernatural or paranormal, I don't even like watching horror movies. But something about this whole situation makes my skin crawl.

Just let me explain why I'm so sure. Once I've done that, hopefully one of you will believe me, and you'll be able to tell me what to do.

The morning after "Rick" came home, I made him a cup of tea. When I handed it to him, he gave me the brightest smile. Then he took a sugar cube from the dish on the table and dropped it into the cup. Our house was in chaos with his return, and I was still in shock, so I didn't think much of it at the time, but its been replaying in my mind ever since. I know it doesn't sound very significant, but my husband never put sugar in his tea. He was always adamant that it ruined the taste, and he'd get so frustrated if I ever put sugar in his cup by accident. And yet, this man had sugar.

Then it was the golf. A few days ago, when he was out visiting his mom, I recorded a golf tournament that was showing on the TV. It was one of Rick's favourite golfers that was competing, and he never missed it. Once, he even skipped out on an anniversary dinner just to watch a championship. Only, when he came home from his parents' and I told him what I'd done, he just seemed... unbothered? Like, he said thanks and everything, and then he asked if I wanted to get dinner. He didn't even watch it, and that’s just so out of character for him.

Then one night I woke up around 2 a.m. to see Rick's face inches from mine just... looking at me with these blank eyes. I kinda gave this nervous laugh and asked "Baby, what are you doing?" And he didn't answer. For like a solid thirty seconds. He just stared, almost like he was looking right through me. Then he suddenly smiled and said, "Sorry, honey. Sometimes I just can’t believe this is real". Then he just rolled over and went to sleep. I didn’t get much sleep after that, myself.

Yesterday, about a week after he came home, the neighbourhood threw a street party to celebrate his return. Everyone from our street and the streets on either side turned up to see him and tell him how happy they are that he's alright. When he wasn't standing with his arm around my waist, he was milling around chatting amicably to each and every one of our neighbours, even the little kids. Jackson, our next-door neighbour Sally's toddler, wanted to play peek-a-boo, and Rick happily played along with a smile on his face. Now, my husband never did that. Rick always said he didn't like kids - that's why we never had any - and so he never wanted to play with any of the neighbourhood children. Especially not Jackson: Rick all but avoided him. Before he disappeared, I had started to suspect it was so I wouldn't see them together and notice the subtle but unmistakable similarities.

The final nail in the coffin, proverbially speaking, was Sally. Just this morning, she came knocking on our door. Her excuse was the tray of brownies she carried, but I think she just wanted to push her way into our morning so that she could see for herself what the situation was. After she left, I called her a nosy busybody. Rick laughed, kissed my head, and agreed with me. That was when I knew for sure that it couldn't really be him. Rick always used to get so mad whenever I insulted Sally, like I didn't have any right to hate her even though she'd been fucking my husband for years. But today there was none of that. He didn’t even try to defend her.

I know what you must be thinking. If he was in an accident or something, he might’ve had some kind of traumatic brain injury that caused him to forget some things about his life, maybe even change his personality. And that's a valid, reasonable explanation. I have no doubt it's what the police would tell me if I reported all this.

But you know why I'm dead certain that man isn't my husband? He doesn't have a scar. If he was really Rick, he'd have a scar on the side of his forehead shaped like the golf club I hit him with. But there's nothing. Not a mark. Honestly, I'm this close to going out tonight and digging up my petunias just to make sure he's still under there.

I don't know what I'm sharing a bed with, but I know it's not my husband. So what the hell am I going to do?

innet

[just-some-random-blogger]

You know that trend ( it's not really new or anything) When a girl would ask her boyfriend/husband " do you remember what day it is." Just to get them to freak out and think they forgot an anniversary or something. Because people were saying that if you ask a man that he will automatically think he forgot something. What about Dream with something like that?

I Know All

"Do you remember what day it is?" "Day is a mortal concept," he blurts a bit too instantly. "... so you don't remember?"

Dream of the Endless x Reader | >600 | cw: gender neutral!reader, sulky!dream, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: hi nonnie! i do know this trend. the first one i saw of it was so funny HAHAHAHA. i hope you enjoy what i whipped up <3 :D

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @sloanexx @shadow-pancake9

"Hi, love!" I beam, hugging him from behind.

Dream, who had just finished doing his round of tasks, tenses before he relaxes. I feel him release a sigh as his palms rest on my arms, "hello, my dreamer."

When he moves to turn, he, at first, tries to hold me back from pulling away. He is pacified upon realizing I meant to take only a few steps back. His otherwise blank expression cracks when he notices I was dressed up more than usual. His hands slip into mine.

"Don't I look extra cute today?" I give a Cheshire cat grin.

His lips curve upward. He pulls me forward and nods, "you are an exquisite creature."

I chuckle and cup his cheeks with my hand, "thank you, Mr. Sandman."

I watch him hold back an eyeroll as he releases a breath.

I laugh once more and rub down his arm, "right, we should get going."

Dream doesn't move a fraction from where he stood even though I pull him by the arm. Instead, topple all the way back into his chest and grunt.

He and I lock eyes. He furrows his brows, "are we going somewhere?"

I shoot him a confused look.

He outdoes my expression with his own.

I cannot mask my chuckle, but I play it off, "of course we're going somewhere! Don't tell me you forgot."

He does not respond for a moment, then betrays himself by clearing his throat too loudly, "remind me again where we are going, my dear?"

My dear. I hold back a laugh by biting my lip. I up the theatrics with a pout, "Dream..."

He is immediately on the defensive. He places his hands on my shoulders and shakes his head, "I had much to do. I merely need to jog my memory."

I start feeling bad because of how his teary blue eyes look.

"Do you remember what day it is?"

"Day is a mortal concept," he blurts a bit too instantly.

"... so you don't remember?"

Dream doesn't put up much of a fight after. He flakes the instant a sigh leaves his lips, "no. I do not remember what day it is, nor making any plans with you this day. I apologise, my love."

He defeatedly hangs his head and leans his forehead against mine. When his arms snake around me, it feels as though a dark cloud forms overhead. I pout through a chuckle and embrace him right back. I feel absolutely dreadful, "baby boy, I-"

"I swear to you, it is not my intention to-"

"Honey, no-" I pull away.

He repels me, "no, don't."

"Lovie!" I whisper, pulling back to caress his cheeks, "it's ok!" I pout, "it's all good. It's fine."

Dream is visibly dejected.

"Baby, don't worry. It was a joke. A really bad one at that, but I didn't mean it to be!"

His brows knit, "what?"

I purse my lips and brush his black hair back, "it was meant to be a funny-ha-ha prank..." I swipe his lips with my thumb before kissing them. I make a guilty expression, "I didn't think you'd be so... distraught about it."

Dream soaks in these works before cautiously wording, "does... this mean I did not... forget any engagement with you?"

I titter, "no, my lord. I was just trying to be funny."

He releases a breath of relief. His shoulders release its tension, "I could inspire your jokes, if you'd like."

I break into a laugh and shake my head, "no. I think I'm-"

"So," he furrows his brows in sudden realization, "you tricked me for your amusement?"

I open my mouth but find myself stuttering when he appears more sullen than he was moments ago, "it was meant to be a jo-"

"Well, I find no amusement in it," he frowns then pulls away.

"N- now, hold on. Dream. Don't be like that. Dream. Don't walk away! Honey! Please."

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The first person to come and try your lemon bars was Mr. Baker. He stormed out of his house a few moments prior

Why did Dennis storm out? Did him and his ex wife get into an argument?

Well, nonnie, you got me again. I have some thoughts about this one.

And here goes...

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dennis Baker x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: Dennis explains what happened in the moments before you first met.

Warnings: mention of past domestic fighting, past verbal abuse, and infidelity

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. Any errors are mine.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You had been in the kitchen, putting together your tray of lemon bars to take over to Dennis’ parents’ house for their anniversary party, when it hit you.

“Bubby?” You called out toward the living room, where Dennis and DJ were having tummy time.

Within a few seconds, your husband walks in carrying your cranky son, who desperately needs a nap. Dennis notices the look on your face—one he’s grown to know. You’re biting your lip and playing with your fingers. You want to ask him something, but you’re nervous to bring it up.

“You’ve got something on your mind, sweetheart. I can see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours,” Dennis presses.

“I don’t even know if it’s any of my business to ask. I was just finishing the lemon bars, and I got to thinking about when we first met. You had stormed out of your old house with her. And I was wondering what she could have said to you to make you leave. And I can’t help but want to ask about it because we’ve never fought like that. Blame my hormones; I think my period is on its way,” you admit.

He runs a hand down your arm and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m going to put DJ down for a nap. When I come back, we’ll talk about it, ok?”

When he comes back a few minutes later, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea to calm your nerves. He sits next to you and takes one of your hands, looking into your eyes.

“Firstly, I want to tell you that it is your business to ask about my past. You’re my wife, and I trust you with my life. That includes my past, present, and future. And it’s been so long since I was in that horrible relationship that it feels like a dream most days. Well, more like a nightmare, honestly,” he begins, a nervous chuckle leaving him.

“Baby, we don’t have to talk about this. I don’t want to put you back in that headspace,” you sigh, feeling as though you could melt through the floor.

“I want to talk about it, sweetheart. And you could never put me back into that situation or into that headspace. You’re my safe space,” he confesses, squeezing your hand in his. “So, that day was just like any other for us. She would berate me for being a terrible husband, meaning I wasn’t submitting to her enough. Even though, at that specific time, I did everything for her. I cooked, I cleaned, and I let her walk all over me. All of it was because she had me trained to think that her version of love was what I deserved.

“But, anyway, we had already been going through a divorce. The paperwork was signed and everything; we were just waiting for it to be finalized by the judge. She chose that day to let me know that she had been seeing someone. And I immediately thought, ‘Oh great, she’s finally seeing a therapist’. The optimist in me wouldn’t have ever thought that she meant another man,” Dennis says, shaking his head.

“That fucking bitch,” you hiss, covering your mouth after it slipped out.

Dennis laughs at your outburst, continuing, “Yeah, exactly. She’d already been banging the pool boy; that was the catalyst for our divorce. But then she tells me that she met someone new in her yoga class. And not just anyone in the class; she was fucking the instructor. After everything we went through, good or bad, she still chose to continue cheating. The instructor, by the way? He just happened to be my old high school bully.

“I almost didn’t believe it when she told me. But as soon as I heard the name Lance Tucker, I imploded. I died a little that day. She had the nerve to tell me that she needed him because I wasn’t enough for her. Mind you, we hadn’t had sex in ages. The look on her face while she was telling me all this wasn’t in the least bit sorrowful or apologetic. She also said that I'd never find anyone else because of my shy demeanor. I was at a loss for words, so instead of trying to say something, I just left.

“And who’s the first face I see when I leave the house? My beautiful future wife. Of course, there was no way for me to know that you would be mine. But the only thing I saw in your eyes was peace. Call me a dork, but you had my heart as soon as you reached up to my face with that napkin. Anybody else would have surely let me wear those crumbs, but you? You went out of your way to clean me up. From that moment on, I knew I was in trouble.” He tilts his head and smiles at you, his blue eyes sparkling.

“And by trouble, you mean the way I was looking at you like you were a tall drink of water on a hot day?” you gush, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Well, no. I mean, I saw you looking at me, but I would never have guessed in a million years that you would look at me like that. I just thought you were being nice. But as for trouble, I meant that I was still concerned about possibly flirting with you while I was still married. That’s how deep her hold on me was. And I didn’t want to bring you into what she and I were dealing with. I assumed you had a line of guys waiting to sweep you off your feet,” he rambles on, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“Ok, that makes sense. I had to get in your lap and kiss you for you to get the hint. I still remember your face after kissing you, so innocent and full of surprise,” you hum, smiling at the memory.

“Innocent, huh? I’ll show you innocent, sweetheart,” he quips, standing from his chair and pulling you up as well.

He kisses you, wrapping his arms around your waist, before picking you up and turning to set you on the kitchen counter. His hands grip your legs and wrap them around his hips. As your clothed sex meets his khaki-covered hardness, the last thing on your mind is innocence.

He nips at your bottom lip, soothing it with his tongue as you open your mouth to let him in. His tongue massages yours, and you let out a sweet little whimper.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Let me take care of you, alright?” he insists, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please,” you whine, feeling him twitch in his pants.

He only smiles, looking at you like you hung the damn moon just for him. Taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he lifts your face to plant a chaste kiss on your lips. He deepens the kiss again, smiling into it and thinking about your first time together.

He plans on blowing that out of the water in a few minutes, and you have no idea what your man has in store for you.

But don’t worry. He’ll take good care of you.

A/N: I’m calling this a drabble…but I think it might be a full-fledged fic at this point hahaha.

[tea-and-secrets]

im afraid im never getting over my old situationship. hes definitely the "one that got away" for me. im happily married now and i mean like really happliy, i wouldnt change what ive got now for anything in the world. but this ex of mine and i just had some really powerful chemistry, until he ghosted me for his shitty ex at the time. since then we've only had a handful of times together and it was always intense and at one point almost really fucked things up for me with my now-husband. anyways. ex-situationship is poly and so am i, and for a long time he couldnt hold down a relationship because he'd inevitably cheat and was just generally not practicing healthy or kind polyamory. and he and his new girl just had an anniversary and while i am genuinely happy for him and for both of them and they seem really sweet together, there's always this part of me that just screams "why wasn't i good enough?? i never wouldve tried to keep you or tie you down as long as you always came back to me". like i truly never even wanted an exclusive relationship with him OR to even necessarily to be his primary partner. i just wanted to be someone he could always come back to and feel safe with and share a loving space with. and we're actually still friends and im mostly over all this because again, im happily married and totally fulfilled in my relationship but still. there's all this pain in me over what could have been. and a feeling that if i had just communicated my self better and more clearly, we couldve had something lifelong and really important to both of us. and now its tricky because i know my husband doesnt like him much and also ex-situationship only talks to me when hes single anyway so i probably wont hear from him for a while. and i probably should just stop talking to him anyway because of *gestures vaugely* all this. idk. its hard to be a person with so much love to give. and its hard to know that even though i have all this love to give, it wont always be received the way i want it to be. alas.

.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {28}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

April came and went faster than Addie’s growth spurts and our little girl suddenly wasn’t so little anymore. Our three year old couldn’t wait to meet her brother or sister and she had taken her role as a big sister very seriously, preparing herself by carrying around a newborn baby doll wherever she went. It was also how she ‘helped’ me pack for the trip to Baku by shoving all of the doll’s clothes into her suitcase too.

“Sweetheart, you can only pick a few outfits for the doll,” I reminded her as I took the majority out.

“But I want to take them all.” She huffed and crossed her arms defiantly. “Daddy would let me.”

I crossed my arms too. “Daddy is a big softy.”

I knew the moment he stepped into the room behind me as Addie’s face lit up with a beaming smile and she dropped the doll to race towards him. 

Pierre caught her as she jumped into his arms before picking up the doll next. “We have to be gentle with babies, mon fille. It would hurt to drop them.”

Addie took her doll back and kissed its forehead. “Besos make it better.”

She was busy catching Pierre up on how we spent our morning while he was at Alpine’s headquarters so she didn’t notice I finished packing her bag alone and prepared to carry it downstairs to the rest of our luggage. “What do you think you’re doing?” Pierre asked as he blocked the door and took the suitcase from my hand. “No heavy lifting.”

“It’s lighter than Addie is, are you going to stop me from carrying her?” I dared. 

He chewed his lip as he debated arguing it but the look in my eye stopped him short. “No?”

I rose on my tiptoes and brushed my lips over his softly. “Good answer.”

May meant Monaco, and with Monaco came our first anniversary. 

It was hard to believe that it had only been a year since I met Pierre, but there I was, standing in the very same garage I first saw those eyes I had instantly fallen in love with. He had changed my life so significantly that I couldn’t seem to remember the time without him in it. 

People told us we moved too fast, even now they still said we wouldn’t last. But it was easy to ignore their comments when I was surrounded by the people I loved and who love me. That list had grown a lot since Pierre entered our lives.

In just one year, Addie had a father, I had a husband and we had a new blessing on the way. One. Year. And we still had a lifetime to go.

 “What are you thinking so hard about, mon amour?” Pierre asked as he joined me on the balcony overlooking Massenet corner of the track. 

“The first time we sat here.” I took the mug of ginger tea that he had made to settle my stomach, the morning sickness yet to fade completely, and took a seat on the outdoor settee.

“I didn’t think Otmar was going to give me your number that day,” he admitted as he sat beside me and draped one arm along the back of the chair while the other hand came to rest on my abdomen that had popped out a little in the last few weeks. “I may have lied to him about why I wanted it, kind of, I mean I did want to thank you for the gel, but that wasn’t all.”

My lips opened to tease him for lying but a gasp came out instead, my hand coming to my belly. 

“What‘s wrong, Bri?” Pierre straightened in alarm as he took the hot drink from my shaking hand.

“Did you feel that?” I asked as I grabbed his hand back and placed it on the swell of my belly, falling silent as I waited to feel it again. “Talk about something, anything.”

Pierre shifted on the lounge as he pulled my shirt up, laying down on his stomach so his lips brushed gently over my skin while his feet kicked happily in the air behind him. “Je suis impatient de te rencontrer, ma petite. I count the days until I get to hold you in my arms. Woah!”

Pierre’s wide eyes snapped to mine, awe and wonder filling them as he felt the strong kick beneath his palms. 

“I think she likes your voice.”

“Or he,” he corrected as he spread his fingers wider to cover as much space as he could, hoping to catch another kick.

“We’ll see who’s right next week,” I said with a grin at the thought of all the bets that had been placed around the paddock. Most of the drivers had bet on another girl, though some of them, namely Charles, only did it so they could keep calling Pierre a girl dad. 

The baby had other ideas when it came to the ultrasound, refusing to move into a position that revealed the gender. All of Barcelona surely heard the mass groan the crews in the paddock gave when Pierre announced we still didn’t know who was in the running to win the bet. It was lucky I had extra copies of the scans printed out because all of the drivers were suddenly expert radiographers and certain they would be able to tell the gender if they squinted hard enough. 

“That’s definitely a boy!” Danny exclaimed as he pointed to the anatomy. “Look at it!”

“That’s the umbilical cord,” I said with a shake of my head and a giggle. 

“You know, that makes sense,” he said as he elbowed Pierre. “Thought we were getting Tripod 2.0.”

“That was a joke,” Pierre groaned. “I didn’t think they would use it.”

“Sure, mate, I totally, 110%, absolutely believe you.” Danny tried to keep his composure but one look at Yuki had him bending over in a fit of laughter. All eyes turned to Yuki but he looked everywhere except at us and gave an innocent shrug before lying that he was late for a briefing.

“What’s a tripod?” Addie asked, making another round of laughter roll through the drivers who looked expectantly at Pierre, just as I was.

“Yes, darling, explain that one, will you?” I asked with an arched brow as amusement filled me.

“Thanks Daniel, now I’m in trouble,” Pierre muttered before waving the drivers away until only Charles remained.

“I think you got yourself in trouble the moment you opened your mouth in that interview,” Charles teased as we watched Pierre try to explain that a tripod held cameras in place.

“But that’s not funny,” she grumbled in confusion.

“No, but those guys are very silly.” Satisfied he had put out that fire, he turned to Charles as his arm snaked around my shoulders. “Still betting on a girl?”

“Even if I’m wrong, you’ll still be a girl dad,” Charles said with a smile as he handed the ultrasound image back to me. “Is baby healthy?”

I ran my hand over my bump that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but a baby by now and smiled at the question only he would think to ask. “Growing exactly as expected, with ten little fingers and ten little toes.”

“Ah, that’s good to hear,” he said as he knelt beside Addie who was still carrying her doll with her. “Taking good care of your baby too, I see. Can I hold her?” Addie handed the baby over and Charles cocked an eyebrow at the mess atop her head. “Looks like your daddy has been practising on her hair.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad. And it was your mum who taught me to plait so if you’re criticising me, it's really on her teaching skills.”

“My mother is a great teacher,” Charles pointed out with a grin and handed the doll back with the addition of one of his bracelets as a necklace. 

Addie jumped happily around seeing the silver and onyx chain sparkling in the sun. “Thank you, Uncle Charles!”

“You’re welcome, chérie.”

“Can I have mochi?” Addie asked as a delicious looking plate of the treats were carried past.

“Where are you manners?”

“S’il vous plaît, maman,” Addie answered as she pushed the destroyed pieces of food around her plate oblivious to the shock on my face.

“Eat your dinner first, then we will talk about dessert,” Pierre negotiated.

“Elle parle française?” I asked him when I saw he didn’t seem surprised at her casual use of French. 

“Avec moi, oui. Eat up, mon fille.” He winked at Addie before stealing a takoyaki ball so she would have less to eat to get her dessert. “You too,” he said to me as he saw the ramen bowl hardly touched.

“This little one is taking up too much space,” I admitted as I rubbed the tight skin stretching across my belly and earned a kick in response. “Plus, it is kind of mean that I’m not allowed sushi in Japan.”

“Two months and you can eat all the sushi you want,” Pierre said with a chuckle. “I’ll even bring you back here for it.”

“Six weeks and five days,” you corrected. “And not an hour more.”

The caesarean had already been scheduled for a few days before my due date to avoid going into labour and possibly damaging my restructured hip. It wasn’t as daunting the second time around now that I knew what to expect but I wasn’t looking forward to the recovery and bed rest that came with the surgery. But, it was what was safest for both me and the baby since the doctors weren’t sure if my pelvis would even widen as it should during labour with all the pins holding it together. 

The last thing we wanted to do was risk something happening just because I would have preferred a natural birth. It didn’t bother Pierre either since the pre-booked date guaranteed he was going to be there for the birth, or had he referred to it - coming out the sunroof. 

“You still need to eat more than that, amore,” Pierre said as he grabbed an edamame bean with his chopsticks and waited for my lips to part. “Please?”

I could hardly say no when he used his puppy eyes so I let him feed me and was rewarded with a proud smile despite feeling like my stomach was going to burst. 

“Did you want to take a walk?” Pierre asked after paying for dinner and a separate bag of mochi to take away too. 

It was a lovely evening in Suzuka and it wasn’t far to the waterfront but my feet ached along with my back, not to mention I needed to pee for the umpteenth time, so I shook my head ruefully. “Not tonight, but you two can go. Addie could probably do with running off some energy.”

Pierre kissed my temple as he saw my discomfort, his arm curling around my waist before we started the short journey back to the hotel. “I’ll take her out after you are settled in,” he promised.

“Oh yes, that’s the spot,” I moaned as Pierre massaged my swollen ankles that were propped up on his thigh. His strong hands were the best relief and their magic was almost putting me to sleep as another yawn escaped.

“Daddy, can we go now?” Addie begged as she stood by the door waiting with her jacket ready and her shoes on. 

He looked like he was going to ask for one more minute but she had already been waiting for five and that was about the most patience we could get out of her before a tantrum began so I lifted my feet off his lap. “Have fun, my loves.”

Addie ran over and kissed my cheek before taking Pierre’s hand and dragging him to his feet. “Call me if you want me to get you anything.”

“Sushi?”

“Except sushi,” he chuckled as he placed some cushions under my feet and gave me a quick kiss before Addie succeeded in getting him to take a step towards the door. “Get some rest, mon amour.”

Click here for chapter twenty nine.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover @adalynneva

[tilbageidanmark]

MOVIES I WATCHED THIS WEEK (#196):

4 UNUSUAL DOCUMENTARIES:

🍿 KEDI (2016) is a love song for a beautiful city and its wonderful stray animals. Istanbul is known for its millions of street cats who peacefully co-exist with the humans who manage to feed and care for them. [With one glaring negative: There's no mention of any attempts for spaying and neutering the huge population!]. (TRAILER ABOVE).

It's a very simple film, basically shot after shot of different people petting a lot of different cats. So it's charming and calming. 7/10. [*Female Director*]

🍿 JOE HISAISHI IN BUDOKAN, 25TH ANNIVERSARY STUDIO GHIBLI CONCERT, was unexpectedly my happiest movie experience of the week. It is my second real-life affair from Sunada Mami (After her other Ghibli bio-pic, 'The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness'). A magnificent 2008 concert with full orchestra and 2 large choruses, (with as many as 400+ musicians). They played for 2 hours bits from the many scores which Hisaishi had composed for the films of his friend Hayao Miyazaki. Simply magical. 9/10. [*Female Director*]

🍿 BALLYMANUS (2022) is an Irish documentary about a German sea mine that exploded on a remote beach in 1943 and which killed 19 youngsters of its small community. It's interesting mostly for the feel of the rustic village and its people, gently-told.

🍿 YOOPER CREOLES: FINNISH MUSIC IN MICHIGAN'S COPPER COUNTRY (2019) is about old traditions of folk music, which were developed by the many ethnic communities in the upper peninsula in Michigan. Part and continuation of the Alan Lomax archivist projects.

🍿

SPRING IN A SMALL TOWN (1948) was voted the best Chinese film of all time by the Hong Kong Film Critics Society. It was made during the Chinese Civil War, but was a surprisingly modern, feminist tale of an unrequited love in a village setting. It's a love triangle with an obedient but unhappy wife, a bed ridden husband, and his doctor friend who comes for a first unplanned visit in 10 years. It's a small lyrical and intimate miracle, worth discovering. It reminded me very much of David Lean's simultaneous story 'Brief Encounter'.

🍿

CONTINUING MY OCCUPATION WITH ISABELLE HUPPERT X 2:

🍿 My second film by Jean-Paul Salomé (after last week's 'Mama Weed'), THE SITTING DUCK (2022). Based on a true story, it's a feminist corporate thriller about a steel-willed top executive whistleblower, who was viciously attacked for her steadfastness. It's basically Huppert's movie. 7/10.

🍿 LOUDER THAN BOMBS, my 3rd uninspired drama by Joachim Trier, his first outside of his native Norway. It's a family drama about widower Gabriel Byrne, and his two sons, who are trying to come to grips with the suicide-by-car death of Isabelle Huppert, playing here a scarred war zone photographer. Unfocused alienation, dislocation, and miscommunication, it's about the difficult dynamics of feeling lost. 5/10.

🍿

"A doctor?... The boy is drunk!...

YOU ARE NOT ALONE was a landmark coming-of-age story about 2 boys who fall in love at a Danish boarding school in 1978. It was controversial in that the relationship between the 12 and 16 year old boys were shown honestly and naturally in a Scandinavian style (nudity, kisses, genuine affection - but no explicit sex). Olsen Banden's Ove Sprogøe plays the strict 'bad guy' headmaster.

It gave me a shot of sentimental nostalgia for that exact time and place. Even though I was 12-15 older than the boys, it rang so true: I remember the clothing, hair styles, cars, roads and ice cream shops, the Kim Larsen songs, the moods and attitudes of that time. It's like re-living it again. Wow! 7/10.

🍿

SORRY WE MISSED YOU (2019), my 6th (and probably last!) powerful gut-punch by British socialist Ken Loach. A fantastic piece of Neo-realist social drama, but one which is so-so depressing that it took me about a week to sit through it. I doubt I'll be able to follow up with more of the same. A working class family struggles mightily to stay floating above water, and is constantly defeated. Since the Reagan-Thatcher Axis of Evil, the infrastructure in England had been degraded as thoroughly as the one in the US, and the only option left for the ordinary poor is to go and fuck off. It's a dreary, anxiety-inducing nightmare of train-wrack coming toward us, unstoppable, merciless and uncaring. 8/10.

🍿

2 FROM BRAZIL:

🍿 THE END OF MAN (1971) is an unusual and bizarro Brazilian low-budget religious fairy tale. A naked stranger with very long fingernails emerges out of the sea, 'Messiah'-like, to influence everybody he meets. It's made by a pioneer of Brazilian horror genre, in the local B-movies style called 'Mouth of Garbage Cinema'. It's like an early Jodorowsky but without the drugs and the philosophy and also without Alejandro's considerably-mad talents. 3/10.

🍿 ELETRODOMÉSTICA (2005), my 3rd by Brazilian director Kleber Mendonça Filho (After 'Bacurau' and 'Neighboring Sounds'). A stay at home housewife is going about her day, taking care of her 2 kids, cleaning and cooking, while also finding time to toke a hit of 'Mota' and to ride the spinning cycle of the washing machine for a quick release.... It's easy to recognize the same town as his first feature. Cute.

🍿

First watch: Sam Packinpah's 1974 neo-Western BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA. A rough, desperate treasure hunter and his prostitute lover driving a beat-up jalopy to look for the head of a dead gigolo. Dirty Mexican mise-en-scène. Kris Kristofferson plays a raping biker-thug. 3/10

RIP, KRIS KRISTOFFERSON!

🍿

“I love you with all my love...”

Grandiose genius Coppola directed my all-time favorite film ('The Conversation'), as well as my all-time favorite trilogy, so I was looking forward to finally see MEGALOPOLIS, his new end-of-life Opus Magnum. But this bloated, didactic, "operatic" epic about Shakespearean "Great men" like Cicero and Howard Roark and Cesar Catilina passed over my head until boredom come. The bullshit metaphors about the fall of the Roman Empire were indulgent and excessive. I can't see where did all the money go. I liked that Talia Shire played again the power-hungry matriarch, and I liked that Dinah Washington started singing 'What a different a day make' at a certain point, but otherwise, I had a hard time just finishing it.

🍿

Stanley Kubrick directed only 12 features and 4 shorts during his 50-year career. FLYING PADRE (1951) was his second film. A documentary about a Catholic priest in rural New Mexico who flies his own Piper Cub plane to administer to his flock. It's told in voice-over, without actual sound.

🍿

2 CANADIAN SHORTS:

🍿 PEEP SHOW, an early short (1981) by Canadian Atom Egoyan. A man at a photo booth tries to take some snapshots, but the photo booth misbehaves...

🍿 THE RIDE (1963), a Buster Keaton inspired joke of a chauffeur dreaming about a toboggan ride, while waiting for his employer. 4/10.

🍿

My 2nd or 3rd re-watch of the very last episode of 'Succession'. With Open eyes, which is recognized now on some lists as the 'greatest TV episode of all time'. It's brutal all right, and proves to show that shoulder-slouching Kendall Roy was indeed a loser all along, a permanent Don Jr. Noted: It's interesting how the opening credit scene had been expanded from season to now. Also, how fluid and jerky was the camera work, full of "unfocused" blocking and cinéma vérité tricks. ♻️.

🍿

TIM WALZ IS WALKING HIS RESCUE DOG and being interviewed by the guy from 'We rate dogs'. 17 wholesome minutes of a guy who's not weird. Cute!

🍿

(ALL MY FILM REVIEWS - HERE).

[gennyanydots]

Take me with you Ch. 1

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

Biker!au

Take me with you masterlist

Chapter summary: Same girl different dream

Ch. 1 “You turn up in the reveries of my mind”

Chapter trigger warnings: loss of virginity mentioned, religious ideology mentioned

Jake smiles as he walks hand in hand with his girlfriend on the beach, his thumb rubs soft circles on her’s, “Where do your parents think you are tonight, princess?”

She giggles and starts to swing their clasped hands as they meander along the shore, she even throws a skip in here and there as they go, “They think I’m at Jessi’s house. I told them she needed help proofreading a paper for English class. Since I have an A in English they didn’t even question it at all.”

“Are you two even in the same class?” Jake asked while he laughed. He’s so amazed with her, how smart she is. Way too good to be with him. He’s just some kid trying to make a name for himself in this little town.

She shook her head, her beautiful hair cascading over her shoulders as she does, Jake almost fell flat on his face amazed at how gorgeous she is, “No but that doesn’t matter, I could still proofread a paper for her. Plus, it’s not like they know we’re not in the same class. They don’t pay attention to stuff like that. All they care about is if I have good grades and spend time with the ‘right’ people. And they like Jessi.”

The ‘right’ people. Jake snorts thinking about that. He’s definitely not included in the ‘right’ people her parents want her to spend time with. The only daughter of the preacher should be spending time with kids from the congregation, definitely not with a kid who’s prospecting for the local biker gang in town, the one who is just a year away from patching in as a full member. Her father would have a heart attack if he knew.

And as much as Jake wants to keep his princess safe and away from the club and its dealings, regardless of how legitimate they are, Jake’s too selfish to give her up now. They’ve been dating in secret for a month shy of a full year. Jake already has her anniversary present hiding in his sock drawer at home, a promise ring. A real one. Not that dumb promise ring her dad makes her wear, promising to stay chaste for her husband. That ship sailed a few months ago making that piece of silver null and void, unless Jake has his way and then she’s already given her virginity to her husband, him. He picked out a beautiful ring for her. A white gold diamond ring with small diamonds around it in the shape of a heart and small diamonds following along half of the band. It took him a couple months of working at Ice’s shop to save up enough money for it but it’s worth it, she’s worth it. He wants to show her how committed he is to her and this relationship. She’s his everything. He’ll find a way to make this last between the two of them. He has to.

“They might like Jessi but they sure don’t like me,” Jake teases as he slows them down and pulls her into his arms to kiss her nose before resting his forehead against hers.

She giggles and playfully pushes against his chest, “Who says they don’t like you? They don’t even know you!”

Jake shrugs his shoulders then nuzzles against her cheek,”They don’t need to know me. They would take one look at me and immediately start praying. Wouldn’t want any of me to taint their precious world.”

“You’re not tainted, Jake. You’re beautiful. And perfect. And mine. That’s the most important part. You’re mine. And if they watched us for even five minutes they’d see how important you are to me and how precious I am to you. They’d cry happy tears knowing their daughter was in the arms of someone who loved her unconditionally,” she said smiling as she placed one hand against his cheek.

Jake turns his head to place a kiss against her palm then returns his forehead to hers, “Unconditionally forever and ever. You are the most important person in the world to me. I love you more than life itself.”

She leans up to kiss him, “I love you more than the stars in the sky.”

He kisses her softly, “I don’t deserve your love. You’re too precious for a guy like me.”

She shakes her head lightly while keeping her forehead pressed against his, “You deserve all the best things in the world including but not limited to me. So tough. You’re stuck with me.”

He chuckles and dips down to slant his lips against hers while he closes his eyes. He could die happy in this moment.

He feels her lips leave his to ghost the side of his face, “Okay baby, it's time. I’m sorry. You gotta wake up now, handsome. Have a good day. I love you. Remember that.”

He shakes his head and holds her as close as he can, “Please. No. I don’t want to. I want to stay. I love you. Please.”

Her lips press against his forehead this time so softly he barely feels it, “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay.”

“Then stay. Stay here with me. I need you. I need you so badly. I can’t do this anymore without you. I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!” he yells.

“Wake up, Jake,” she whispers in his ear. “Just…..”

“Wake up!” Jake hears yelled at him at the same time as someone slaps his cheek.

Jake yells as he jumps up from his bed, narrowly missing knocking his whole body into Rooster. He gasps for breath.

“Hey woah, easy there, champ,” Rooster says as he reaches out to steady Jake, who just waves off Rooster’s hands.

Jake leans down, placing his hands on his knees and breathes deeply. He closes his eyes and wills his body to calm down his fight or flight response.

Rooster takes it upon himself to plop down on Jake’s bed, “Were you having a nightmare or something? You were thrashing around and making all sorts of noises in your sleep. I heard you all the way in my room.”

Jake stands back up with a pained look on his face. Was he having a nightmare? He can’t remember. He was pretty sure he was just sleeping. No dreams. He closes his eyes and tries to replay anything he could remember from when he was asleep but his mind is blank.

Jake shrugs, “No, I don’t think so. Nothing I can remember anyway. I don’t dream. Haven’t since I was a kid.”

Rooster looks at him funny and crosses his arms over his chest, “Never? C’mon. You gotta dream sometimes. Everyone does it. My dog growing up even dreamed.”

Jake shakes his head, “Nope, not me. I don’t think I can remember the last time I dreamed. Guess you’re wrong, bird brain.”

Except Jake was lying. He remembers exactly when his dreams stopped. Right around the same time as his accident.

[usamamoweek]

UsaMamo Week 2022 Works

To give some inspiration and give readers some additional stories to check out before official entries for UsaMamoWeek 2023 start to get posted, we thought we would do a few posts highlighting some stories and works from prior years.

Stories:

Anniversary - @floraone

"Usagi finds her mother in a pile of gifts and photos and it makes her very sentimental. Fluffy oneshot slice of life fic written for Usamamo Week 2022"

UsaMamo Week 2022 - @riverlethe

Collection of stories based on prompts

We Do This Every Time - @daikon1

"A series of interconnected semi-AU vignettes exploring early-relationship (anime) UsaMamo dynamics for UsaMamo Week 2022."

Homey Touches - @sailormew4

"Chiba Mamoru never really knew the difference between a "Home" and a "House". They're both places you return to after work, after school, or just a place to sleep. But yet that will change after Usagi moved in with him."

To Have and to Hold - @linlamont

"Getting married is a big deal. So is getting older. For UsaMamo week 2022."

Win a Date with Tuxedo Mask! - @tinacentury

"Frustrated by watching his two favorite customers dance around their feelings for each other, Motoki takes things into his own hands."

Dirty Laundry - @angelmoongirl

"It might not be as traditional nor as romantic as Mamoru would've liked, but in the end it's okay... because their first date is so quintessentially *them*."

Welcome Home - @kaleidodreams

"After two long years apart, Usagi and Mamoru reunite when he returns home to Tokyo after participating in a prestigious fellowship at Harvard."

Stages (UsaMamo Week 2022) - @areptiledysfunction1107

Collection of stories based on prompts

Surprises at Night - @kaitoscarlett

"Unazuki is not the only one to get presents at her surprise party. And this particular present is going to change the relationship between two people. Can Mamoru and Usagi make it work? My contribution for UsaMamo Week 2022."

UsaMamo Week 2022 - @sailormoonandme

"A series of fics written for the UsaMamo Week tumblr challenge. Every day is written around a different theme."

Cream - @caelenath

"Food had the power to narrow Usagi's world to a single, all-consuming imperative. That is, until the day she watched Mamoru eat ice cream."

Usamamo Week 2022 - @imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs

Collection of stories based on prompts

The Last Request of Sailor Moon - @master-ray5

"The night before the birth of Chibi-Usa, Sailor Moon has a simple request for her husband."

UsaMamo Week 2022 - @over-roaming-waves

Collection of stories based on prompts

A Glimpse of Memories - @artistic-writing-mess

"A small collection for Usamamo Week 2022 for my comfort ship."

Finally Mine - @reispinkoveralls

"After the Cauldron restores the world and its people, Usagi is forced to realize just how much Mamoru means to her."

UsaMamo 2022 | Book - @lilliebellfanfics

"Serenity decides to get Endymion's attention while he's reading a book."

UsaMamo Week 2022 Stories - Just_A_TM_Fan

Interconnected UsaMamo stories

Art:

@mochibuni - Day 5 Music

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

I was discussing with a friend how I've often been a 'fandom mum' since I became active within the fandom world just over a year ago. Both in-person at convention spaces and online, I'm more than happy to fill that space for anyone who needs it.

It is, essentially, because I am all too aware that you cannot choose your blood relatives. But I fully believe that you can choose your family.

I've just passed my second anniversary of disowning my parents. I'm 40, turning 41 in a few months. Cutting ties is one of the best decisions I ever made. The damage, however, had long since been done. And I'm still working on reversing it all. But I started about a year ago, and I'm working on it. Which is all that matters.

I was raised in a very everything-phobic household. Which was...interesting, seeing as we moved all around the world. Living with racist, homophobic, judgmental parents in a new country every 6-18 months was certainly a challenge. Especially as a genderfluidy queer person (I'm pansexual), with a slew of mental health issues (mostly due to my upbringing) and neurospiciness.

I wasn't allowed to hyperfixate. Wasn't allowed to watch the majority of TV shows/channels. Couldn't express myself in ways that made me happy or comfortable, or weren't approved of. Was mocked and manipulated in various ways that I won't go into but suffice it to say it was all Not Very Nice At All. I was essentially not allowed to be myself, express myself and be interested in the things I wanted to be interested in.

Fun! I finished off 2023 by having trauma therapy, which helped tremendously, and has helped me put a lot of things into context, including my wish to support others.

I've been an advocate of mental health awareness since I was hospitalised for severe peri/postpartum depression (PPD) with symptoms of psychosis after having my second child. I was very ill after my first child, but slipped through the net mostly due to lack of beds, and essentially had continuous PPD the entire time from being pregnant with my first child until long after my second child was born. Probably until around her third birthday. But, regardless, I resolved to be open and honest about my mental health, and to encourage others to look after themselves.

And I have continued to do so. My daughter is now 8. My mental health is, overall, pretty stable. It has its peaks and troughs, 2023 was rough; I lost a close friend who was younger than me to cancer and the grief destroyed me. The trauma therapy was another thing that was extremely difficult, but ultimately very rewarding.

But regarding the fandom mum-ness.

You can't choose your relatives. But you can choose your friends. And your fandom family. I can't really talk about my fandom stuff with my family here at home. But I can with my fandom family online. I learn fandom speak and facts from my fandom kids. And I'm here to be a fandom parent to anyone who needs one.

I'm not the perfect parent. My kids are 8 & 11 and will confirm that. But in this house we are LGBTQ+ proud and supportive. We ask people's pronouns (mine are she/they). We support our friends and stand up for them, when others put them down or bully them. We believe in ourselves and our interests, even if they're not necessarily 'popular'. We think gender is an arbitrary societal construct. We buy clothes from whatever department we want. Etc.

And we all think the Metatron is a wanker. Well, actually, no. It's just me and the 8yo. The 11yo hasn't watched GO. Neither has my husband, because he refuses. But my daughter is cool. ;)

So if you need a fandom parent, I'm here. I may not reply straight away, because I do have an 8 and 11yo. But I will try!

[sansa-of-oldstones]

🎶 musical artist - favorite band/artist growing up

This is a really hard question for me to answer, but I’ll try. Sorry for the long answer, but music is a bit of a hyper focus of mine.

My Dad loves classic rock and my mum loves 80s hair bands and Billy Joel. Piano Man forever holds a special place in my heart, and so do Tom Petty, Bob Seger, and Journey. My aunt gave me a harmonica for my 5th birthday because I would not stop singing Tom Petty songs. That was the first instrument I learned to play.

She is also the one who played her Beatles 45s for me, and led to my love of them. I lost her when I was 16, but I still have those memories and songs. Here Comes The Sun is my “Vecna song”, and why my daughter is named Abbey. After Abbey Road.

I was the kid listening to hand me down cassette tapes on my bright yellow Walkman. Previously stated artists, along with: Elton John, Eric Clapton, and The Beach Boys (my aunt also loved them).

When I was 13, I fell in love with Something Corporate after hearing Leaving Through The Window. Hurricane, Punk Rock Princess, I Woke Up In A Car. I adore these songs. Andrew is a treasure, and I am so glad he survived what he has. His story really resonates with me, and I could talk about it endlessly. They were one of my first concerts. My love for them extended to Jack’s Mannequin. Everything in Transit is easily one of my favorite albums of all time. My Dog is named Delaney because of Miss Delaney. I went and saw Andrew last July in Orlando. He’s why I learned to play piano.

Through my husband (and high school boyfriend) I developed an appreciation for Jimmy Eat World, Death Cab, and Fall Out Boy. ITS TO JIMMY EAT WORLD AND THOSE NIGHTS IN MY CAR (anyone who knows what this is from let’s be friends). I Will Follow You Into The Dark is a favorite song as well. There are also songs from being in band that will remain in my head rent free. I played flute. My husband was a snare on the drum line. Alexa, play Crank That (Soulja Boy).

In 2006, I was 18 and a senior in high school. A girl from Reading, Pennsylvania released her debut album. That album helped me through SOME SHIT. I have loved Taylor Swift ever since. I feel like I’ve grown up with her. My husband took me to The ERAS tour in April 2023, for our Anniversary/My Birthday. Highlight of my life. I got to hear You’re On Your Own, Kid the very first time she played it live. I’m a sucker for track 5s. I could discuss her ad nauseam.

That pretty much covers the music I loved growing up! Thank you! Sorry for the long ask answer!

[the-rewatch-rewind]

Here it is! My most frequently rewatched movie! Thank you for coming on this journey with me.

Script below the break

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind! My name is Jane, and this is the podcast where I count down my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies in a 20-year period. Today, at last, we reach the end of that list as I discuss my number one: MGM’s 1940 comedy The Philadelphia Story, directed by George Cukor, written by Donald Ogden Stewart with uncredited contributions from Waldo Salt, based on the play by Philip Barry, and starring Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, and James Stewart.

Two years after the disastrous end of her first marriage to childhood friend C.K. Dexter Haven (Cary Grant), socialite Tracy Lord (Katharine Hepburn) is preparing for her second wedding, to George Kittredge (John Howard), general manager of her estranged father’s coal mining company. Eager to cover this story but knowing that Tracy loathes publicity, Spy magazine editor and publisher Sidney Kidd (Henry Daniell) enlists the help of Dexter to get reporter Macaulay “Mike” Connor (James Stewart) and photographer Elizabeth “Liz” Imbrie (Ruth Hussey) to the Lord house the day before the wedding. In those 24 hours before her second marriage begins, Tracy is prompted to rethink not only her choice of husband, but also her entire attitude toward people and life.

This must have been one of the first old movies I saw in 2002 because the only thing I remember about my initial experience of it was that I expected Tracy to accept Mike’s proposal, and if I’d been an experienced old movie watcher by then I would have known that obviously Katharine Hepburn was going to end up with Cary Grant, not James Stewart. I certainly did not immediately fully appreciate this movie, although I was intrigued enough to keep revisiting it until eventually it became my favorite. I watched it five times in each year from 2003 through 2005, four times in 2006, twice in 2007, 2008, and 2009, three times each in 2010 and 2011, five times in 2012, once in 2013, once in 2014, twice in 2015, once in 2017, twice in 2018, four times in 2019, once in 2020, twice in 2021, and once in 2022. Part of why I watch this so much is because it has three stars whose birthdays I celebrate almost every year, so I often watch it for Cary Grant’s birthday and then either Katharine Hepburn’s or James Stewart’s (their birthdays are only about a week apart so I don’t usually watch it for both). I think part of why I didn’t watch it in 2016 is because I watched it in late December of 2015 for the 75th anniversary of its release, so Grant’s birthday in January felt too soon to revisit it, and that May I decided to watch through all the Fred and Ginger movies starting with Astaire’s birthday, so I was less focused on Kate’s and Jimmy’s birthdays that year. And then later in 2016 I was too obsessed with Poe Party to watch much of anything else. But to make up for that, the reason I watched it so many times in 2019 is because Mary Kate Wiles used to host readings of plays and movie scripts with her actor friends for her Patreon, and I offered to transcribe the script of Philadelphia Story so she could do a reading of that one, and even though I knew the movie very well by then I decided to go through it a few more times to make sure I got all the details right, so eventually my love of Poe Party led to more rewatches of this. And the current Shipwrecked project, The Case of the Greater Gatsby, takes place in December of 1940 so there are lots of Philadelphia Story references in it and they make me very happy. Anyway, I’ve put quite a bit of effort into not watching this movie too many times too close together because I don’t ever want to overwatch it to the point of getting tired of it, like I did with a few other movies I’ve mentioned on this podcast, and many more that I burned out before they could make it into my top 40. While the stars’ birthdays have contributed to the view count, mostly this is my number one comfort movie that I know I can always turn to when I need something to watch, and I’m afraid of pushing it to the point where that no longer works. Although the fact that I sat through it 51 times in 20 years – the same number of views as number two plus number 40 on this list – and haven’t come close to getting tired of it yet indicates that I probably never will.

I don’t think I can really articulate what exactly it is about this movie that makes it my favorite to revisit, but I’m going to try. Certainly the fact that it features three of my favorite classic film stars helps, although a big part of why I love those stars so much is because of what they did in The Philadelphia Story. Every single member of the cast gives an absolutely fabulous performance. There isn’t a ton of action, but the dialogue is a perfect example of everything I love about the best Old Hollywood scripts: snappy and witty and clever on the surface, with real human emotion and intriguing philosophy underneath. The movie features many different kinds of brilliantly executed comedy, but the more serious moments still hit without feeling out of place. It deals with taboo subjects like divorce, infidelity, and alcoholism in ways that complied with production codes but still don’t feel too watered down. Basically, it has all the aspects I love about the other old movies on this list, only more so.

Several of my very favorite movie scenes of all time are in The Philadelphia Story. One is when Mike has had a lot to drink at a party and decides to visit Dexter in the middle of the night. The way drunk Jimmy Stewart and sober Cary Grant interact is hilarious and makes me desperately disappointed that the two of them never appeared in another movie together. At one point, Stewart makes a noise that’s kind of a mix of a hiccup, a cough, and a burp. Grant, thinking that Stewart has ruined the take, goes, “Excuse me,” sounding a little annoyed but trying to make a joke out of it, but then Stewart drunkenly responds with, “Huh?” indicating his intention to go on with the scene. Grant looks down, stifling a laugh, and then they continue with the dialogue, and I love that instead of reshooting it, or editing around it, they kept that in the movie. There may not be a blooper reel, but we still get to watch Jimmy Stewart almost break Cary Grant, and that’s good enough for me.

Another of my favorite scenes comes a bit earlier in the film, when Tracy and her younger sister, Dinah, played by Virginia Weidler, meet Mike and Liz for the first time. Tracy immediately saw through Dexter’s story that they were friends of her older brother’s and knows they’re reporters, but agreed to play along when Dexter informed her that Sidney Kidd intends to publish a story about Tracy’s father’s affair with a dancer unless he gets a story on her wedding. To protest the situation, Tracy and Dinah decide to put on a show for Mike and Liz, who don’t know that they know they’re reporters, and it is maybe my favorite comedic scene in any movie. First Dinah dramatically stumbles in wearing pointe shoes and some gaudy jewelry that was a wedding present she previously insulted. She then puts on an overly posh voice as she explains that she spoke French before she spoke English – “C’est vrai absolument!” – and boasts that she can play the piano “and sing at the same time!” She makes her way to the piano with the least graceful toe walk possible, and then bangs out a very silly rendition of “Lydia the Tattooed Lady,” a song mainly associated with Groucho Marx. While Mike and Liz are staring at her in bewilderment, Tracy peeks into the room and beams like she’s never been prouder of her sister. Once the song is finished, Tracy enters and praises Dinah in French, comparing her to Chopin, and then saying Dinah looks ill and she hopes it’s not smallpox, which freaks out Mike and Liz, but the audience knows it’s a private joke because earlier Tracy told Dinah that the only way she could postpone the wedding was to get smallpox. After Dinah leaves, it’s Tracy’s turn to confuse the reporters, and it is truly brilliant. The dialogue and the way it’s read, as Tracy turns the interview around and starts asking them invasive questions, is so good. Like when Tracy’s talking about how they don’t let any reporters in, “except for little Mr. Grace who does the social news. Can you imagine a grown-up man having to sink so low?” or when she’s welcoming them to Philadelphia and says, “It’s a quaint old place, don’t you think? Filled with relics, and how old are you, Mr. Connor?” It’s the seemingly accidental but actually very deliberate insults that get me. And then on top of that, there is some incredible yet subtle physical comedy going on throughout the conversation. Tracy accidentally-on-purpose pushes Mike and Liz into each other as she offers them seats, and there’s a whole very long bit between Tracy and Mike involving cigarettes, matches, and lighters that I didn’t even notice the first few times I watched it because I was too focused on what they were saying. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable scene all the way through, and every time I watch Tracy exit that room, leaving the reporters to ponder their bafflement, I have to applaud.

But the movie also excels at mixing some drama and seriousness in with the comedy. There’s a lot of focus on how Tracy demands perfection from herself and everyone around her, and as a result is missing out on the joys of human messiness. She makes a big deal about never drinking alcohol, although Dexter reveals that she did get drunk one time when they were married, and later remembered nothing about it. But after Dexter tells her that being married to her felt like being a high priest to a goddess, and George tells her that he worships her like a queen, and her father, who showed up uninvited, tells her she might just as well be made of bronze, Tracy gives in and starts drinking heavily at the party the night before her wedding, which was where Mike also got very drunk. Tracy and Mike meet up at Dexter’s house, then go back to her place, and dance and argue for a while until Mike kisses her and tells her that he sees her as a human being, which is a wonderful change of pace for her, so she suggests they go swimming together. Later, Dexter and George see Mike carrying Tracy back to the house, both of them in bathrobes, and George assumes the worst. The next morning, Tracy can’t remember what happened, but Dinah tells her that she saw Mike carry Tracy into her room – which is another excellent scene, Virginia Weidler was one of the best child actors of all time and people barely ever talk about her anymore, but she and Katharine Hepburn do a fabulous job of getting the point across that they both think Tracy slept with Mike the night before without breaking production codes. And then after that when Mike appears, he and Tracy have the most excruciatingly awkward conversation, and it’s so painful but so good. Dexter also shows up trying to comfort Tracy, and I love the way he doesn’t accuse her or condemn her or even ask her what happened, partly because he knows she doesn’t remember, partly because Mike told him nothing happened, but partly because you get the feeling that he wouldn’t think any less of her if she had drunkenly hooked up with Mike. And maybe that’s reading too much into this, but his reaction is certainly quite different from George’s, which I guess makes sense because technically she would have been cheating on George and not Dexter, but George doesn’t even let her explain before breaking up with her by note. He does finally show up in person as she’s reading the note aloud to Dexter, Mike, and Liz, and their confrontation is so well done – I particularly love Liz’s “Say something, stupid!” to Mike, who is just standing there listening to George accuse Tracy of having an affair with him. But after a while, Mike does eventually reveal that their so-called affair consisted of exactly two kisses and a rather late swim. Tracy and George don’t believe him at first, and then Tracy is offended, until he points out that she was very drunk and he didn’t want to take advantage of her. And like, I know that this movie was made in 1940, so the censors weren’t going to let Tracy actually have sex with another man the night before her wedding anyway, but I still can’t help loving the way they handled this. Tracy makes a bit of a fool of herself and learns that George is not the right man for her without going too far, and Mike demonstrates that it’s not that difficult to respect a woman’s autonomy and recognize when she is unable to consent.

I have a lot of mixed and complicated feelings about this story from an aroace perspective. On the one hand, it is very focused on romance and marriage. Also the whole thing about characters describing Tracy using phrases like “virgin goddess” and “perennial spinster, however many marriages” to illustrate her coldness and lack of human understanding is…not exactly an ace-affirming metaphor. On the other hand, I always appreciate stories about adults who have the chance to sleep together and choose not to, even when I know it’s at least partly because of production codes. And somehow, something about the way Dexter, Tracy, Mike, and Liz all interact give me hints of queer found family vibes, even though they end up paired off heterosexually. Maybe it’s the fact that it was directed by a gay man and features at least two probably queer actors that’s giving me that vibe, I don’t know. Another of my favorite scenes – I know, I have way too many – is when Dexter and Liz return to the Lord house after writing a blackmail note to Sidney Kidd. It’s a fairly short scene, but the way the two of them interact as platonic friends who understand each other but clearly don’t like each other romantically is not something I’m used to seeing in a scene featuring a man and a woman alone, and it makes me happy. Mike also has some great moments with Dexter, as does Tracy with Liz. I like to think that the four of them maintain their friendship after the events of the movie, rather than amatonormatively going off and doing their own thing with their spouse and forgetting about their friends. This movie does portray sex and romance as part of the human experience, but I don’t feel like it portrays them as the only important part. The message is all about pursuing the life that’s right for you, and not looking down on people who have different priorities, and when you look at it from that perspective, it actually is kind of ace-affirming, albeit probably unintentionally. But as I’ve indicated multiple times in previous episodes, asexual representation is so rare, and aromantic representation is even rarer, that if you can find an approximation of affirmation by tilting a story and squinting at it, even that feels exciting. That’s how low the bar is.

With that being said, as a teenager I definitely did relate to Tracy Lord, at least in terms of the way I was perceived. I think a lot of my peers thought that I thought I was better than them, when it was mostly that I just didn’t understand them. I don’t remember anyone calling me a goddess or a queen or a statue, but other middle and high schoolers definitely teased me for being “perfect”, which told me that they didn’t really see me as a person, so I felt Tracy’s pain and confusion when she got called out like that. I do think that like Tracy, I had a lot to learn about letting myself make mistakes and not judging other people too harshly for theirs, but I also still strongly feel that some of the criticism leveled at Tracy – and at me – was unwarranted. I can’t tell if the movie wants us to agree with Tracy’s father when he blames his philandering on not having the right kind of daughter, but I think that’s entirely unreasonable of him, and Tracy absolutely does not deserve that. And I’m not sure it’s fair of Dexter to blame her for contributing to his alcoholism, but at least Dexter takes some responsibility for his actions, unlike Seth Lord. I think my peers didn’t understand me any more than I understood them, but I probably could have cut them more slack and tried to get to know them better before writing most of them off as too different for me to possibly get to know. The circumstances in this movie are very different from being a high school misfit, but as a high schooler who often had trouble relating to movies that were actually about high school misfits, somehow this movie spoke to me. It was an escape from high school that also helped get me through high school. The story helped me become a less judgmental and more forgiving person toward others while also helping me feel better about being who I was unapologetically. I also got similar messages from other sources, so I don’t want to give this movie too much credit, but at the same time, I don’t think any single movie affected my teenage years more than this one, so I would certainly be a different person if I had never seen it.

The story of how this movie came about and what it led to is also very important to me. After appearing in several box office flops in the late 1930s – several of which made it onto this list – Katharine Hepburn left Hollywood for Broadway to star in and financially back the stage version of Philadelphia Story, which Philip Barry had written specifically for her. Howard Hughes purchased the film rights as a gift for Hepburn, with whom he had been romantically involved, although it seems like the romantic part of their relationship was over before that, so this is like My Man Godfrey in that it turned out the way it did partly because of exes who were still friends. Katharine Hepburn then sold the rights to Louis B. Mayer for only $250,000 on the condition that she would have input and veto power over producer, director, screenwriter, and cast. She got the director and writer she wanted, but her first choice for the two male leads – Clark Gable and Spencer Tracy – were unavailable. Gable reportedly hated George Cukor and was rumored to be at least partly responsible for the director being kicked off of Gone with the Wind, so it’s probably just as well that he wasn’t involved. Future lovers Hepburn and Tracy hadn’t even met yet at this point, so it would have been interesting if this was their first movie. But ultimately, Cary Grant came on board, under the condition that he would receive top billing, which feels a bit strange to see because Hepburn is clearly playing the main lead, but Grant also donated his entire salary to the British War Relief Society, so we can’t accuse him of too much selfishness. And James Stewart’s performance as Mike would earn him one of the film’s two Oscars, although he apparently thought that Henry Fonda should have won for The Grapes of Wrath, and that he had only received it as belated recognition for his performance in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington the previous year. Donald Ogden Stewart also won for Best Screenplay. The film was also nominated for Best Picture and Cukor was nominated for Best Director, and the performances of Katharine Hepburn and Ruth Hussey were nominated as well. The fact that Hepburn didn’t win – and lost to her rival Ginger Rogers, no less – indicates that Hollywood was still a little reluctant to welcome her back. But this movie crucially changed the public’s perception of Katharine Hepburn, transforming her from box office poison to a box office draw. They were calling her a has-been in 1938, but with The Philadelphia Story she showed them that she still had more to contribute, and her career took off in the 1940s, and lasted into the 1990s.

Even now, generations later, twenty years after Hepburn’s death, it’s easy to tell just by watching this movie why it was such a turning point for her. She completely embodies the spoiled socialite, but she makes Tracy sympathetic enough that when she is taken down a few pegs, as she needed to be, the audience feels sorry for her rather than gloating. Tracy is radiant enough that we understand why George worships her, yet she is down to earth enough that we understand her yearning to be seen not as an object of worship, but as a human being. Hepburn nails both the comedic scenes and the more serious dramatic scenes, with no hint of the desperately-trying-too-hard actress who comes across too often in some of her earlier films. While I obviously still love many of those films, watching this one feels like we’re seeing a Katharine Hepburn who has finally come into her own. There certainly was an element of trying to get the public to like her, but there’s no desperation about it. She gets this character, and knows how to make the audience get her too. I don’t think I could have found Tracy so relatable if she hadn’t been played like that. And listen, I’m thrilled that Ginger Rogers won an Oscar, especially because Hepburn would end up with four and didn’t really need this win, but if I had to pick one single all-time favorite film performance, I can’t think of any that would beat Katharine Hepburn’s Tracy Lord. Although I also have to say that I think Cary Grant’s performance as Dexter is incredibly underappreciated. I’ve said before that sometimes I have trouble taking him seriously in dramatic roles, but this was the ideal blend of seriousness and silliness for him, and he nails every emotional beat. He does an excellent job of showing the audience that he has grown and learned from the mistakes of his first marriage and is ready to move forward with healing his relationship with Tracy, which makes this a much better remarriage story than His Girl Friday, for example. There were a lot of movies made around this time about a divorced couple reconciling, mostly because that was the only way the Production Code allowed the scandalous topic of divorce to be addressed on film, but Philadelphia Story feels different from most of those. It’s more like Pride and Prejudice, if Pride and Prejudice started right after Elizabeth turned down Darcy’s first proposal. Both are about a couple who needed to grow and reflect before they could be happy together. I think those are my favorite kind of romances because they have less to do with attraction, which I don’t really understand, and more to do with trying to become the best version of oneself, which everyone can do regardless of how they feel about romance. Anyway, I’m a little sad that this was the last time Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn worked together, but I’m so glad they got to make this masterpiece before their careers diverged.

In 1956, The Philadelphia Story was remade as a musical film called High Society, which I watched 12 times. I enjoy that version too, although obviously not nearly as much as this version. It’s a fun romp, and the Cole Porter songs are great, but it doesn’t quite pack the same emotional punch as The Philadelphia Story. Strangely, considering I don’t think anything can touch Hepburn’s original portrayal, my favorite part of that movie is Grace Kelly’s performance as Tracy. She put her own spin on the character and was clearly having fun – probably at least partly because she’d already decided to retire from acting and marry a prince, and was wearing her actual engagement ring in the film. My biggest objection to High Society – and yes, I know I’ve complained about this too many times on this podcast but bear with me one more time – is the age gap between Dexter and Tracy. They’re supposed to have grown up together, but Bing Crosby was 26 years older than Grace Kelly, and their dynamic is just all wrong. The story doesn’t work if Dexter is old enough to be Tracy’s father! Whereas in Philadelphia Story, we’ve got Cary Grant who was born in 1904, Katharine Hepburn who was born in 1907, and James Stewart who was born in 1908. They were all basically the same age! It can be done! John Howard was born in 1913, so he was a bit younger, but I think that works for the way George looks up to and admires Tracy, and still that’s a relatively small gap. Anyway, we can add “getting actors of appropriate ages” to the long list of things The Philadelphia Story did right.

So there we have it. I’ve talked about all of my top 40 most frequently rewatched movies of my first 20 years of keeping track. Thank you so much for listening to all my rambling! I hope you’ve found this entertaining and informative – I know I have. I’m planning to do one more epilogue episode in a few weeks summarizing what I’ve learned from this project, so stay tuned for that if you’re interested. I also have lots of other ideas for movie-related podcasts that may or may not come to fruition, we’ll see. Since I don’t know what the next movie I’ll podcast about will be, I’ll leave you with one last quote from The Philadelphia Story: “We all go haywire at times, and if we don’t, maybe we ought to.”

[hanniebanggi]

𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏.

hong jisoo

warnings: death, grieving, mentions of cancer. let me know if i missed anything.

"it's been a year since you left me, shua. but why you are still with me? every goddamn time." you whispered as you caress your husband, joshua. his urn to be exact. you have been grieving and grieving but nothing ever changed. you're still in pain, as if thousand of knives stabbed your heart and twists it.

you glanced at his photo beside his urn, as you put down the cake you made for the two of you.

"happy anniversary, love."

joshua was suffering from stage three bone cancer, you remember visiting the hospital he was admitted everyday. reading him his unfinished books he never had read when cancer hit him. you played his favorite songs, you sing for him. you did everything you could to take care of him. you hide your brimming tears when you're with him, but he knows you, every move, every tone of our voice, every smile you make. he knows you are in pain too. so, he tried to push you away, so many times but you never budged. you stayed with him, waiting for him to defeat cancer, to be with you again.

you stayed with him until his last breath. until the light in joshua's eyes were like dying embers, soft and warm, and slowly loses its heat and left you nothing but ashes.

" i hate you, joshua. i really do. you told me you'll be with me, till the end of times, no matter what happens, but here you are. i hate the way i talk about you like you haven't left yet. i hate how you made me so happy every fucking day, just to bring tears to my eyes. i hate how your scent lingers around our home, i hate how you proposed to me and got married with me, and leave me the day after that." your gutteral voice as you force yourself to not cry while cutting the birthday cake you made.

you placed a slice for him on a plate in front of his photo, as you placed your piece of cake on your own.

you turned your head as your heard your phone vibrates, you pick it up and you saw a scheduled alarm you made for you and joshua's celebration.

"sometimes, when my phone buzzes, i wish it was you sending me a text, or your silly cat memes. oh god, shua. you have no idea how i badly want your name to light up on my phone. you probably don't even have any idea on how i still dance to your favorite music with your sweaters. i wanted to dance with you again, shua. even just from a ghost of you. i want to touch you, and feel your skin with mine. i want you back. joshua."

"please? i just want to hold you, once again."