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wavesoutbeingtossed · 1 month ago

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The TTPD Deep Dive (Part ?)

It’s no secret that I have a lot of Thoughts about The Tortured Poets Department and it has lived rent-free in my head since it came out earlier this year. I’m absolutely blown away by how underneath the chaos, it’s actually an exceptionally cohesive story and is probably the closest to a concept album Taylor has ever done.

There are so many themes that have stood out to me over the last five months, and there’s one in particular that I think not only drives the entire album, but ties into previous albums to help deepen understanding of it.

This is it, my fangirl magnum opus, my months of posts consolidated into one place. This is also my disclaimer that this is just my interpretation of the album, and my summary of the story it tells, and I don’t pretend to have any special insight or authority. I’m not saying I’m correct at all, do not take any of this as fact, it’s just what it sounds like to me, and these are my silly not-so-little thoughts about it.

(Under a cut because it’s way too long and involves discussion many may not care for or be sick of.)

Come one, come all, it's happening again (I'm thinking too hard about Taylor music)

The overarching theme in TTPD to me is: Grief. If you’re looking at TTPD as a story being told (instead of just as someone’s real life), the inciting incident of TTPD is loss, and the grief from that loss is what drives the narrator’s actions and the fallout, as well as unpacks those complicated feelings and how they apply to the her life in general. By the end of the standard album, it’s also about recovering from that pain, moving on from it and learning from it.

The loss specifically is the loss of the dream of having a family (with one’s partner). One thing that is abundantly clear both on the top line and under the surface in TTPD is how Taylor (as a person and as narrator) longed not only to for marriage but specifically parenthood, and the fear and then realization of losing that chance absolutely wrecked her— which is why the next lover’s (the conman's) wooing worked so well, because it preyed on that yearning. Yet that loss also dovetails into the grief of many things: of youth, of idealism, of relationships, of ideas, even of self, which causes almost a deconstruction of a belief system to piece one’s life back together by the end.

THE CONTEXT

TTPD weaves in the topics of marriage and motherhood both explicitly and in the subtext, in various forms and scenarios. The cheating husband in “Fortnight.” The wedding ring line in “TTPD” the song. “He saw forever so he smashed it up” in “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys.” All of “So Long, London.” Running away with her wild boy in “But Daddy I Love Him,” fantasizing about weddings and joking about babies. The imaginary rings in “Fresh Out The Slammer.” The cheating husband (again) and the friends who smell like weed or “little babies” in “Florida!!!” “You and I go from one kiss to getting married,” “Talking rings and talking cradles,” and “our field of dreams engulfed in fire” in “loml.” (And arguably: “I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all.”) “He said he’d love me all his life, but that life was too short,” in “I Can Do It With A Broken Heart.” They may not sound like much on their own, but they paint a picture about how the topics pervaded her thoughts and her writing, and in many cases express her desires, and her pain.

It’s something that goes back several albums when you pick up on context clues. You get the first hints on Reputation with “New Year’s Day,” and “you and me forevermore.” Then Lover is very forward with it: “Lover” is basically wedding vows, “Paper Rings” is very engagement-coded, “I Think He Knows” is cheeky but low-key “you better put a ring on it,” “It’s Nice To Have A Friend” has wedding/marriage imagery in the last verse. As a self-professed diaristic writer, it’s the type of stuff one presumably doesn’t put out there unless those conversations have already happened, and she was very excited about it at the time it was released.

Then the pandemic happens and folklore comes out, and while there is still happy love there (“invisible string”), there are also the first indications that something has happened to put a halt to whatever future she once dreamed of (“hoax,” “the lakes”) and that she’s trying to reassure herself and him that it can still happen even if she’s scared it might not (“peace”). Notably, as far as I can remember it’s the first time Taylor explicitly brings up the idea of family (with her partner) with “you know that I’d give you my wild, give you a child,” which stood out at the time because it’s so incredibly vulnerable, but it’s even more poignant when you really take in that the whole song is like a confession of her deepest worries, and this is her vowing to give him these things that she holds most sacred if he’ll let her. These are what she cherishes most dearly and wants to return in kind: her youth and commitment (my wild), the family she craves (a child), unconditional support (swing for the fences/sit in the trenches) and understanding/compassion (silence that only comes when two people know each other).

Evermore follows an even darker path, and suddenly the album explores relationships that end and grappling with loss. There are toxic relationships (“tolerate it”), dangerous marriages (“no body, no crime,” “ivy”), failing/broken relationships (“Coney Island,” “champagne problems,” “happiness,” “‘tis the damn season”), as well as grief (“Marjorie,” “evermore”). Even some of the happy songs have uncertainty in them: in “willow” she’s begging for him to take her lead, like she’s still trying to decipher him and ask him to commit; in “cowboy like me,” still a beautiful love song, she’s thinking, “this wasn’t supposed to work and we were supposed to bail on each other but we fell in love instead”; “evermore” is about the depths of severe depression (and more) with the love story being the one saving grace in her darkest hour. And it’s also notable that after all the “fiction” writing, shortly after this album she writes “Renegade” where she’s telling the subject: I’m ready to start the next phase of our life now, why aren’t you? Is it me you don’t want after all? It’s like there’s something telling her that this stall might not just be a stall.

Midnights is a jumble (in a good, but in hindsight, also sad way) with the “sleepless nights” concept, but it seems pretty clear now that the themes and events and relationships she was revisiting tied into a lot of what she was feeling in her present life. I wrote the cliff notes version awhile back, but she’s questioning so much of her life that’s reflected in past events and relationships. Am I actually always the problem? How did we lose sight of each other and what we had? We only seem to work when we block out everyone and everything else. Can we ever go back to when things were good? Why are you neglecting me? I once thought I was going to lose everything but you saved me in the nick of time, can that happen again? I chased my career, but did I give up my chance at having a family in the process? Nobody knows what I really suffer from behind closed doors and I’m all alone.

And so on, which in retrospect now that we have TTPD, is very much what she was grappling with in private while writing and releasing the album. The inspiration behind the songs may have been different events and muses, but regardless of their origins they all end up feeling too familiar, like she's seen this film before (ahem). We’re seeing her view of commitment change too, or rather how she writes about it: she’s not making the outright declarations of it like on Lover, or even the implied ones on folklore, nor is she talking of the dark side of it like evermore. For the most part it’s a return to the early days of some relationships, before things got hard, or the end of them when there was nothing left, and also pushing away the discussion of it altogether by the outside world. “Sweet Nothing” is a sweet slice of life, but even at that, it’s the peace of the home in conflict with the pressure of the outside world. Now that we have “You’re Losing Me,” which was written at the same time as the rest of the album, we can probably deduce that she was going back to the start because something happened that made her doubt the future.

THE SETUP

So much of Midnights directly ties into TTPD, and I said in the post I linked that it’s like Midnights is asking the questions that TTPD answers. But there’s one song in particular on Midnights that sticks out to me as being key in the broadest sense to understanding the state of mind that led to the events of TTPD, and that’s “Bigger Than The Whole Sky,” because the way it expresses grief is reflected in the theme of mourning a life built and the dreams along with it that are never realized in TTPD. There are several instances in TTPD that are basically variations of: “every single thing to come has turned into ashes,” and that’s what makes her snap, and leaves her vulnerable to someone who promises her those things when she’s bereaved at losing them in the first place. (In other words: “the deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling.”) The song tells a story about how that loss of hope colours one’s entire mindset, and in some ways is a bridge to TTPD to understand what such a low point feels like.

I think that that grief, and most importantly losing hope for an imagined future in its wake, is fundamental to understanding TTPD on so many levels: both the decline with one partner that kept her hanging on then led her such a dark path, and why she fell for the conman's apparent bullshitting because it offered an express pass to what she was losing with her partner. And I also feel like it plays a part into the ruminating she’s doing all over Midnights, trying to make sense of where she finds herself when she’s writing the album, which directly leads to “You’re Losing Me.” Loss permeates so many of the stories on Midnights: of lovers, of innocence, of youth, of faith, of control, of life’s work, etc. “BTTWS” is just one of the ways in which it is expressed so fully, capturing that deep depression and subsequent extinction of faith in something that once felt assured and very much wanted. (Which is also mentioned in her writing process in the “Depression” playlist on Apple Music.)

If you understand why that feeling of loss in general across so many parts of life is so important to Midnights, then it illuminates so much about the “narrative” in TTPD too. If on Midnights she’s wrestling with the seeds of grief and loss (on multiple fronts), TTPD is her reckoning with it in its full form. “So Long, London” is the song that is the most explicit about it: How much sad did you think I had in me? How much tragedy? Just how low did you think I’d go before I’d have to go be free? You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof. It’s the sequel to “You’re Losing Me.” It’s, the air is thick with loss and indecision, I know my pain is such an imposition, I’m getting tired even for a phoenix, all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier, I’ve got nothing left to believe unless you’re choosing me, my heart won’t start anymore, but from the other side of the break.

This is highly speculative, but if you follow the thread about the topic and the relationship as told from Rep through TTPD, in broad strokes it goes: young love with a serious connection (Rep) -> growing up and making life plans (Lover) -> something happens that delays those plans or makes them grind to a halt (folklore) -> serious doubts arise and cause a loss of faith in their future (evermore) -> struggling with the loss of that future and trying to make sense of the problems in a last ditch attempt to save the relationship (Midnights) -> fallout from that grief after the blowup of the relationship (TTPD). Understanding that progression of events (through the music) explains not only the storytelling side of TTPD (e.g. the jump from the partner to the conman) but also how the experiences/muses blend in the music, and how the music that on the surface is about the short-term relationship is really driven by the destruction of the long-term one.

Following the music, it’s IMO implied that Taylor (the narrator) was holding out for marriage and family with her partner, for years, and it seems like it was at one point a shared dream until something happened to pump the brakes, and seemingly on her partner’s end. And extrapolating further, given how the sorrow expressed in former albums bleeds into TTPD, it sounds like a plan that had been concrete in some form before it had fallen apart, and losing something that once felt so tangible is what drives her in her grief to find any kind of respite from the pain. Which is why the situation with the conman becomes so appealing as the one with the partner splinters further and further.

(If everything you’ve once touched is sick with sadness and you don’t want to be sad anymore, what are you left to do?)

THE STORY

So (one part of) the story kind of sounds like this from the standard album: the relationship with her partner as well as his mental health slowly deteriorate and he withdraws emotionally (“London,” “Fresh Out The Slammer”) and physically (again, “London,” and “Guilty As Sin?”) and takes his resentment out on her (“London” and arguably “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys” even though I don't want to get into muse speculation here). As she sinks deeper into her own depression as a result, the weight of the failing relationship starts feeling like a cage— or a noose (“London,” “Guilty”), but coming to terms with the loss of their life together and the future they’d dreamed of was killing her (again, “London,” but also “I Can Do It With A Broken Heart”).

Enter the conman who she reconnects with at the very point where this is coming to a head (knowing that IRL she reconnected with him around the time Midnights was being worked on) , and if you read between the lines, she confides some deeply personal things to him (“Down Bad” and “hostile takes overs”/“encounters closer and closer,” “Smallest Man” and the entire sleeper cell spy imagery which is one of my favourite things and I could write a whole essay about the meaning of it, “loml” and “A con man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme”). Then after she’s confided these secrets to him, he insinuates himself back into her life (“Guilty,” “Down Bad,” “Smallest Man”) and sells her a dream that HE can give her all these things she hopes for (again, “Down Bad,” “Smallest Man,” “loml,” song “TTPD,” “Broken Heart”).

But the thing is, he only knows these are the things she wants because she’s revealed it to him, and presumably, told him that was what she was losing by staying with her partner. And instead of the normal response of, “that is really sad that your partner is not supporting you and you deserve to be treated better,” to a friend in growing distress, it seems like it was, “well I can give you all those things!!!! Right now!!!! Trust me!!!!” And worked on her until she believed it, and jumped at the chance at a precarious time in her life. And one thing I want to underscore is: Taylor has agency in the situation always, it’s not like she’s been kidnapped and brainwashed. (In fact, she implores on songs like “But Daddy” that SHE is in charge of her own choices, good or bad.) She chose to rekindle the friendship and then relationship, and she chose to eventually leave her long term relationship for another man, and she reiterates on the album that she owns this all. But it’s also: nothing exists in a vacuum, and she makes choices based on emotions and information she has at the time, which is why it gives so much whiplash.

THE ALBUM

When you look at it as, the situation with the conman only happens because of what happened with the partner first and that the appeal of the conman and the fantasy he sells her is a direct reaction to that, it makes the “swirliness” of the music make so much more sense. And for much of it, even many of the “conman” songs on the surface are really “partner” songs underneath.

Fortnight

A suburban gothic allegory about a broken marriage with a distant husband with a wandering eye, which makes the rekindled romance with the neighbor so appealing. She’s miserable caged in her stifling house because she’s been abandoned by her spouse, so the reappearance of this past love reignites the passion that’s dead at home.

TTPD

“So tell me, who else is gonna know me?” “I chose this cyclone with you.” I’m gonna kill myself if you ever leave. Everyone knows we’re crazy. She’s laying it out there that she’s already in a dangerous state of mind, and she’s actively putting herself in more danger by pursuing the conman. “At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that’s the closest I’ve come to my heart exploding,” spells this whole thing out so clearly: whether it’s an actual event (likely) or a metaphor for the promise he makes to her, the reason why it makes her heart explode is because it’s the thing she’s been waiting for forever with no movement, and here this person comes in and slips it on her finger in an instant like it’s nothing. (And eventually, as we’ll come to know, it is absolutely nothing to him.) You mean it could have been this easy this whole time?! (Well, no. Not until a certain other suitor makes his appearance later.) It feels like she’s finally getting everything she wanted in the blink of an eye! How lucky! How convenient! What was that about the get-love-quick scheme you say? (Unsaid: the reason why this feels so urgent is because there’s a sense that time is running out in so many aspects of her life and not just the obvious. Which reappears later on.)

Down Bad

“Did you really beam me up in a cloud of sparkling dust just to do experiments on?” sets the scene for this euphoric experience in the moment that starts to feel violating once the dust settles (which is then followed up in “Smallest Man” and the spy mission on her). The bridge spells out how he weaselled his way into her life, preyed upon (intentionally or not) her emotional state, sold her a dream and then vanished, without the benefit of hindsight yet we see later in the album.

The alien abduction metaphor is pretty brilliant, because it shows both how she was desperate to escape the place she found herself in, and how much it screwed her brain to then be left stranded when the affair was over. “[I loved your] hostile takeovers, encounters closer and closer,” is so evocative because it details how the situation came to be: his overtures under the guise of friendship blurred lines until he made her an offer that she eventually couldn’t refuse (hostile takeovers) as he infiltrated her life more and more intimately. The sad thing is that the song has parallels to how her relationship with the partner started too in earlier albums, in that they ran away to live in their own bubble (or planet) only for him to metaphorically abandon her as the years went on. (Oven, meet microwave.)

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Being continually emotionally broken down by a person who knows he’s hurting you but still acts the way he does. (The original voice memo version makes this even clearer and it’s rather heartbreaking.) “He saw forever so he smashed it up,” speaks to the loss of a future the person became scared of, and the original lyrics (“he saw forever so he blew it up”) somehow cut even deeper to me because it feels so much more intentional.

Also in the original version, “he was my best friend and that was the worst part,” also speaks not only to the loss of an entire partnership in the wake of this hurt, but also to the feelings of betrayal that the person you trust so deeply has the ability to hurt you in this way too, and how it’s a one-two punch of not only losing the relationship but also your closest confidant. (It’s like the sequel to “Renegade” and the missiles firing to me.) Again, there are shades of both/many situations in the song, pointing to an unfortunate pattern in some ways. The situation in “My Boy” is part of why she was so low, and why the “get love quick scheme” was so appealing later on. And it dovetails nicely into…

So Long, London

The most explicitly “partner” song that puts a coda on “You’re Losing Me,” and is Track 5 because it’s the emotional underpinning of how she got to where she was, and drives the events of the rest of the album. It spells everything out: He withdrew, she tried to fix it for both of them, eventually even that stopped working, he was oblivious to or minimized how badly she was suffering and his (in)actions couldn’t reassure her, he wouldn’t move forward on their future plans and stewed in his own struggles, she was spiralling out of control trying to hang on and ultimately felt like she was going to die if she didn’t leave.

But Daddy I Love Him

Like a direct reaction to “So Long, London” in that she breaks free from the death of one relationship and throws herself with reckless abandon to the next, fuck the haters. How dare you judge me, when the relationship you think I should have stayed in was killing me? (Dutiful daughter all the plans were laid. All you want is gray for me.) Fuck all of you, I’m going to choose whoever I want! (So what if I have a baby with HIM, huh?! I tried doing it the proper way and look where that got me so now we're back to square one) It’s again her imagining how wonderful and freeing this “wild boy” is going to be for her, and how wrong she’ll prove everyone. THIS TIME she definitely got it right. So what if she has to run away! So what if she scandalizes the whole town! They don’t know what she really wants or needs anyway! She’s the only one of her (hee-hee-hee) and she’s the only who gets to decides how this goes. (Because: she longs for control in a situation she’ll eventually realize she has little of it in, which we’ll find out is a recurring theme in her life.)

Fresh Out The Slammer

Also spells out what happened with the partner in the first verse and the pre-choruses, which is what makes the conman so appealing as the imagined jailbreak. The bitter loneliness vs. the sultry passion she builds up in her head as she awaits her release from prison is key to understanding the two sides of the story in the album. There’s this whole outlaw imagery (which is also carried through in “I Can Fix Him”), but it’s contrasted in the end with her and her reunited lover sitting on park swings like children with “imaginary rings” — because “Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake.” What’s at stake is lasting love and the promises that come with it (marriage/family) that are precious and time-sensitive. The imaginary rings are both a nod to the youthful dreams of her and her new/old lover, but also has a double meaning to me because those promises aren’t built on anything together; they're made up, intangible. (They’re no more concrete than the plans that went up in smoke with the partner.) Like with most of the conman situation, it’s all a fantasy in her head that has yet to happen, and as we find out later in the album, reality ends up leaving much to be desired.

Florida!!!

Broadly speaking, it’s running away from your problems and wanting to disappear from your life. (But again: the life she’s disappearing from is the cheating husband she may or may not be feeding to the swamp-- another miserable marriage.) What kind of flies under the radar though is the “I don’t want to exist,” line, which points to her dire state of mind that led her to fleeing to that metaphorical timeshare down in Destin. In many ways about cheating death.

Guilty As Sin

Yes it’s the “masturbation song,” but again the nuance is that she’s left to pleasure herself because her partner has abandoned her emotionally and even physically, i.e. “my boredom’s bone deep.” To be blunt: they aren’t even intimate anymore, so she starts fantasizing about the guy she used to have chemistry with who’s reentered her life and is making moves on her. And realizing that she’s now finding release in another man (albeit imaginary) breaks her even as it reinvigorates her because she finally understands that the relationship she’s in is effectively dead. (“Am I allowed to cry?”)

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me

This isn’t about relationships, but about society and its reaction to them in a general sense. But again, she’s left to stew in all this anger and hurt as she’s been abandoned at home, then abandoned by public opinion, and the public attack on her is part of the origin as well as the end of that story. The trauma inflicted upon her detailed in the song is the reason why she felt trapped in the first place, which led to the decisions she’s made and habits she’s leaned on ever since.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

This is one of the few songs that is the most completely conman-coded, and shows when the delusion finally breaks at the end of the song. She spends the whole song being like, “no really, I alone can make him better! You’ll see! I know he’s gross, but he’s mine! It’ll be fine I swear! You don’t know anything! Uuuuuum hmm wait actually what the fuck—“

Loml

Oof. THE song. Again the surface reading is about the “conman” who comes in and sells her the lie, but the pain is because all the dreams she writes about are HER dreams and implied that they were the dreams she built with her partner that the conman sold back to her. I could do a deeper dive on this but most of the song is applicable to both relationships, which not only shows the “swirliness” of her writing, but also how they both ultimately did the same thing to her in different shades.

The bridge and the last chorus are kind of fundamental to understanding it all, and her ending it with “you’re the loss of my life” is about, among other things, how falling for this trap blew up the life she built and dreamed of for good. (I could talk about this one forever.) “You shit-talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles” to “Our field of dreams engulfed in fire” is a hell of a line and progression, and again, indicative of what the real driving force behind the whole album is. The shit-talking is because he took her dreams (of marriage and children) and hyped it back up to her tenfold whether in a moment of his own delusion or for more nefarious reasons — much like how the man prior kept promising these things but never followed through, which left her vulnerable to someone who appeared to offer them enthusiastically. The field of dreams isn’t just the one with the conman, it’s the one with the longterm relationship she’d built the dream with in the first place, because the conman’s actions are part of the reason the LTR went up in smoke. (Not the reason for the rift, but the consequence of the final break.) And THAT is why it’s the loss of her life, so completely.

When she says “I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all,” IMO it’s not just the fake future that the conman lures her into, but also (and perhaps mainly) the once-real one she had with her partner and the loss of which that made her susceptible to falling for the con in the first place. There’s honestly so much between the lines in this song that covers every theme and speaks to the grief of seeing the life she imagined slip away, slowly by the first man then annihilated by the second.

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

The juxtaposition of “He said he’d love me all his life, but that life was too short” and “He said he’d love me for all time, but that time was quite short” sums it up to me (and parallels “loml”), because they are two different situations, but they cut her just the same. In the first, “that life” IMO was the life they’d built with the dreams that went along with it and it was too short because he never followed through, and in the second, the “time” was quite short because it was the frenzy of the whirlwind romance that fizzled as quickly as it began. The life that was too short led to the time that was quite short.

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

This is definitely THE conman song. The rage, the shame, the violation, it’s all in there. But the key to it is the bridge and the espionage imagery woven through it. A honeypot scheme is when spies target a mark and seduce them to gain their trust and their privileged information for their homeland. So her likening him to a sleeper cell spy who set her up just to mine her deepest secrets and use them against her is a heavy, loaded statement. And implied: that valuable information she unknowingly held were her longings of marriage and family (the aforementioned shit-talking about rings and cradles she never got to have), and more importantly, those dreams preceded him reentering her life and then beginning his mission on her.

The insinuation then is: she confesses these are her deepest wishes which are now seemingly unattainable in her current situation (e.g. with her partner) -> he convinces her HE will give them to her and make the dreams she pines for come true -> she falls for him and blows up her life to make it happen -> he gets what he wants (thrill of the chase/sex/the idea of her/whatever his intent was) -> he abandons her when he gets what he wants, or rather it isn’t what he wants or can handle -> she’s left a) all alone b) with dreams unfulfilled c) with no answers d) feeling used at having her most sacred wishes used against her.

Again, the song is unquestionably about the way the conman absolutely destroyed her, but he was able to do that because there was this thing she wanted more than anything, that was dying in her previous relationship, that he was able to prey upon to seduce her, then discarded her and her dreams as soon as it was inconvenient for him while absolutely hollowing her inside out. (And again: the devastating thing is that this also applies to other relationships she’s written about, in different ways.)

The Alchemy

Not about either the partner or the conman directly, but it (loosely) touches on her finding herself after the whole oven-to-microwave experience and opening herself up to life and love again. #GoodForHer

Clara Bow

This isn’t about the romantic relationships on the surface, but it is about how damaging the entertainment industry and public life are on women, and how women are only valued for their beauty as commodities until they can be discarded and destroyed in the process. Which I think plays into the circumstances that led her to make the decisions that she did years ago, and why she makes the ones she does now. (But also, being valued for physical traits and appeal for the male gaze brings us to…)

The Manuscript

The “original sin” that kicks off all of this. Again, at first light this isn’t about the partner or the conman, but the person it is about is the reason why she has made all the decisions she has ever since in relationships (and that’s Mr. Plaid Shirt Days from “All Too Well”). The realization that her first serious adult relationship is what cemented these patterns, and this view of herself and her worthiness in relationships, is profoundly sad. An older man who valued her for being so mature for her age and implying that the mature activities ahem associated with that were the performance benchmarks in her ability to carry a relationship, only to leave her, was earth shattering. She placed her faith in this person, but then the way he treated her changed her view of love and of herself.

She took his innuendo about “pushing strollers” as a sign of potential commitment, whereas he ultimately meant it as foreplay, and she was too young and naive to know the difference. So not only did she learn from that that this man (and men) didn’t view commitment and family the way she did and that it was something to be toyed with, but she also learned that her value to them among other things was sex. Imagine being an idealistic 20 year old and your boyfriend ten years your senior tells you, “if the sex is anywhere near as good as our dates have been, we’re going to be making babies before you know it,” (e.g. this is relationship is serious) and then he dumps you: does that imply that the sex was not in fact that good? (E.g. that you’re not worthy after all?)

No, obviously from this side of life, it’s because he was a commitment-phobic playboy, even if he did love her, but she couldn’t have known that at 20 and instead internalized that shame. But, it did send her on a path of how she approached sex and love and relationships for over a decade afterwards. And her coming to the realization that that first act of (perhaps unintentional) manipulation is what informed her actions thereafter helped her break the pattern. Her worth to men is not just sex, she has value and her hopes and dreams have value, she doesn’t have to change into a different person to please anyone, because if that is what they want, they won’t ever want her anyway.

It’s been described here on Tumblr by people more eloquent and astute than I as a song that encapsulates the album as this: one did it slow (partner), one did it fast (conman), and one did it first (first love)— and that is haunting. After years of men minimizing her dreams and desires, if not outright using them against her, she’s finally at the point where she can let it all go and move on for good. (There’s a whole other tangent about consent and shame and manipulation, but that’s an entirely different kind of discussion. But it is so devastatingly contrasted with “you said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine, and that made me want to die.”)

THE SUMMATION

This is just my interpretation of it, but in going through the standard album, it feels pretty clear how cohesive the album is about a story of love and loss and grief, then reckoning with what caused it all in the first place that set a person on this path. It’s a formative experience at a young age that was traumatic and led to certain coping mechanisms and a shaping of one’s self-perception, as well as the reaction to external pressures that try to dictate behaviours and influence how one feels one deserves out of love which makes it harder to know when one absolutely deserves more and better. And leaves one struggling to cope with loss when there isn’t anything else to hold onto. Then in light of one’s life blowing up, learning to find oneself in the aftermath all over again.

On another tangent that is somewhat related to the theme of loss, the way she writes about the two main muses on the standard album also ties into how the situations converged to create absolute carnage on her emotional and mental well-being. With one situation, she’s talking about a concrete life that crumbles under the weight of their struggles; with the other, the entire thing is a fantasy that she builds up in her head, and when it comes to fruition it falls far, far short.

If you look at the “microwave” (conman) relationship, you realize that almost everything she writes about it happens before it actually becomes reality, and it’s mostly her imagining how great it’ll be, but with few exceptions, when she writes about what actually occurred, it doesn’t even come close to living up to her expectations. “Fortnight” is an imagined future where she escapes to Florida and his touch finally starts her stalled engine (ahem). “TTPD” is perhaps the most positive retelling of their time together, but even that implies he was better off stoned and when he sobered up he succumbed to his demons all over again, and more importantly she conveys how she also is in extreme distress, barely concealed by the veneer of being infatuated with him. (E.g. saying to that she’ll kill herself if he ever leaves her — the implication is that she is absolutely serious about it when she “felt seen.”) And that the warning bells are going off in her head, but she feels like this person is the only one she can be with (because they’re equally fucked up and the chaos he brings into her life makes her feel alive when she felt so close to death).

“Down Bad” is the most explicit about being in love, but she’s also left completely confused and disoriented by him disappearing, wondering if any of it was real and the seeds of violation creep into her consciousness (“did you really beam me up in a cloud of sparkling dust just to do experiments on?” “Waking up in blood.”). “But Daddy” is her imagining she can tell everyone to fuck off for telling her what to do with her life. “Fresh Out The Slammer” is her fantasizing about this man while feeling trapped in her relationship — but never in the song is she actually reunited with him; she’s using him as the projection of all the things she’ll make right after being wronged by her partner. “Guilty As Sin?” Is very obviously about her fantasizing about sleeping with him, but again it’s such a minefield for her because it hasn’t happened yet; they’ve only just reconnected. “I Can Fix Him” is the only song other than “TTPD” that shows them actually together, and it’s the one where she keeps saying, essentially, “I know he’s gross but I can rehabilitate him into an upstanding person, trust me,” until the mic drop at the end of the song where it finally hits her that no, she can’t, because this is who he is, not the person she’s built him up to be.

“Loml” is when it all comes crashing down, and the song emphasizes everything he did and told her, e.g. that she’s the love of his life, but she doesn’t return the sentiment in the song about their time together. Because now that it’s past tense, she knows it wasn’t actually love. (And says as much in the album epilogue poem.) “Broken Heart” is her reeling in the aftermath, but again, it’s “he said,” not “I loved.” And then there’s “The Smallest Man,” where she eviscerates him: he also pursued an idea of her but didn’t care much for the real her in front of him (who else is gonna know me?), he love bombed her only to hurt her (crushing her dreams), he was constantly stoned (and not just in the funny munchies kind of way), and he wasn’t even a good lover (despite the fantasy she’d created before). That last point is especially striking because she spent albums singing about the importance of and pleasure in (sexual) intimacy in the relationship with her partner (sometimes to both their own detriment) and how it was at times the only way they could connect, but in this case, the idea she hyped up and acted on in her head about this lover never panned out in practice. She spells it out in the epilogue: it wasn’t a love affair, it was a mutual manic phase.

In contrast, there’s a lot more tangible action in the “oven” (partner) parts of the album, showing how hard she tried to make the relationship work in real life instead of just in her head. All of “So Long, London” is her detailing how she tried to break through to him and support him, even when he rejected it and pushed her away, thinking she could carry them both until they ultimately sank, but she did it because she “loved this place for so long.” (The place? Not just the city, but the home and perhaps most importantly, him.) In “Slammer” she stayed with him even as things disintegrated for “one hour of sunshine.” (E.g. holding onto the rarer good times even as they were fewer and further between, hoping things would eventually turn around.) And like in “London,” she held on despite people in her life pleading with her that it was hurting her. (Which is also echoed in “Slammer.”) In “Guilty” her boredom is “bone deep” because the passion that once drove their relationship (and papered over their problems) has finally gone out too, so there’s nothing left to hold onto, leading to her fantasizing about the new suitor, which makes her realize her relationship has passed the point of no return. “Loml” is about the conman on the surface, but the undercurrent of all the things she says about him is that he was co-opting the dreams that she was clinging onto for dear life in the previous relationship, which is why the con is so painful; the field of dreams he sets ablaze isn’t just the fake painting he sold to her, but the original artifact (her life with her partner) too.

All the physical and emotional labour she puts into the relationship with her partner ends up reflected in the fantasizing she does in the one with the conman, which is why it is so confusing in the moment and so lethal when he leaves her without any answers. She wants to get married and start a family with her partner which keeps getting stalled; the conman mock-proposes which makes her think he’s immediately serious (“TTPD,” “loml”). She feels caged by having to hide with her partner and shrink herself; the conman promises he’ll stand by her side publicly and let her shine (“Smallest Man”). She sinks into a deep depression in her loneliness as the relationship with her partner careens off a cliff; the conman convinces her they’re meant for each other in a them-against-the-world way (“Down Bad”). The intimacy (in all senses of the word) in her relationship with her partner fizzles; the conman stokes the fire by sending her secret messages and reigniting passion (“Guilty”). She spent years trying to help her partner to no avail; the conman makes her think she has the power to reform him (“loml”). She feels misunderstood by her partner; the conman acts like he’s the (only) one who truly gets her (“TTPD,” “loml”).

In short: there’s nothing that the conman does or says that isn’t a direct response to what her partner did first, and it’s even worse because the conman knew how much her partner’s actions hurt her and he used that privileged information to paint a picture of what he could give her, but in doing so in some ways aimed at her heart with even deadlier accuracy. (I’ve likened it to him borrowing someone else’s life for his own joyride, until he crashes the rental car and flees the scene.) It’s why in the aftermath, the difference in emotions are so different: she feels nothing but rage and violation towards the conman for getting in her head and using her, whereas her feelings towards her partner are more complicated. There’s anger (at her lost youth and being taken for granted), but there’s also sorrow (at their lost life and future), disappointment (that he never could step up the way he’d promised or she’d needed), even compassion (towards his struggles) and a tiny measure of appreciation (for the good times they did share).

When you look at the bigger picture, the story the album paints is just so painfully normal. You have two people (Taylor and her partner) who once loved each other deeply, and despite warning signs early on telling them they have fundamentally different needs and ways of living their lives they fight like hell to make it work (the epilogue) until those warning signs become grenades that destroy their home (“My Boy,” “London,” “Slammer,” arguably “loml”). Having already been through at least one rough patch/break/breakup that she felt almost destroyed her (harkening back to Midnights on “You’re Losing Me,” “The Great War” and “Hits Different”), the final and fatal downward spiral of the relationship (“YLM,” “London”) and the grief over losing that future sends her into a tailspin, just at the time where a flame from the past (the conman) reenters her life and tells her all the things she’s been longing to hear and feel (“TTPD,” “Down Bad,” “Guilty,” “loml”) and, crucially, missing from the relationship that was once her entire life.

So in her panic, she falls prey to the (empty) promises of the past lover (“loml,” “Smallest Man”) and decides he’s actually what will save her from the free fall, because the alternative (that she will end up in a situation she doesn’t think she can survive) is too painful to bear. When she finally acts on these circumstances (leaves her partner/runs to the conman), she snaps, acting on pure emotion and adrenaline (“But Daddy”), but before she knows it, the new lover abandons her, and she’s left to reckon with the fallout of the episode and process everything that has happened (“Down Bad,” “loml”) — with the conman, with her partner, with the choices made in her adult life personally and professionally which leads her back to the moment she feels set her down that road at the start.

The TL;DR of this unintentionally long essay is that the reason the conman affair was so serious was precisely because it was meant to fulfill the promise of what was her life with her partner. To me, a large part of the story is that she projected that life onto the conman (or he projected her life back to her for his own purposes) because she wasn’t ready to deal with that massive grief and the life raft he offered felt like the only alternative to an even darker end. Whether the conman actually believed what he told her, or he went along with it or encouraged it because it served his purpose, we’ll never know, just like we’ll never know the finer details of what went on (nor should we). But no matter what, the album is just an extreme deep dive into all the ways grief can consume us, and whether it’s a long, drawn-out death or a sudden, inexplicable one, it can turn a person’s life into such a trainwreck that they act in ways unfathomable to even them, let alone the people around them. It can also unleash repressed trauma and mental illness that can crater your sense of self. And when those situations are compounded? It makes for a nearly impossible type of breakdown to unpack. (Which is why you might need a 31 song album to process it.)

#What if i told you I’m back lol #Time for me to finally just post the thing after it’s been sitting in my drafts for so long so I can rid myself of it lol #Writing letters addressed to the fire #the tortured poets department #Consider this a treat before Eras comes back for its swan song leg idk #Would you believe that as long as this is #i deleted quite a few chunks of it from the original draft i sent to a friend(s) in the interest of ~propriety~#Because they were a little too rambly and um— ~speculative~/personal/etc and we are flying too close to the sun #And i tried to be as tactful and more or less stick to things we can point to in the music and such #So hope people catch my drift lmao but also iykyk i guess #I have so many other themes I want to talk about but I never have any time #I have so much more i want to say and yet #wavesoutbeingtossed: The Anthology #Also if things get weird i will turn off reblogs/delete the post tbd #This is not an invitation to get into muse ranting or debate in my inbox and I ask that you please respect my boundaries :)#Midnights #lover #folklore #evermore

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xthescarletbitch · 10 months ago

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bg3 ladies giving the strap (x reader)

18+, minors do NOT interact

cw: afab!reader!receiving said strap-on (i could not figure out how i wanted to write otherwise, i'm sorry)

word count: 700+

author’s note: proofread? don’t be silly! these are just my goofy little thoughts that hit as i was playing the game and thinking about fucking the ladies i just wrote about. @happysparklingshadows got to this idea first, so please go give her the attention she deserves (it’s delicious). <3

lae'zel

lae'zel starts rough

(but don’t worry, she’ll get you completely ready and wet first ;))

and then she’ll end off even rougher

i swear it’s like she wants to break you in half

she has to slam into you at such an unforgiving pace

the strength stat does not lie!!

i also think she’s a big fan of watching your face, and pussy, as it takes her strap

moaning and groaning, watching it split you open, as well as your face of pure bliss

that kind of reaction makes her want to pound even harder

she also thinks it’s an excellent workout, and that’s why she won’t do it half-assed

she just wants a big orgasm from the both of you, and she will get it

one thing about lae'zel is that she is devoted!!

there will be marks if you’re into that

sources of each other’s bruises, you know

minthara

minthara would give you time to adjust, sure, but she can be so impatient

she’ll start rubbing your clit to get things moving (and most likely continue to do so)

once you’re ready to take her even more, that’s when she’d get rougher

her stroke game is something else

rolling her hips into yours, wanting to get as deep as she can each time

she may even put your legs over her shoulders so she can get even deeper

and she will not be going slowly, either

just imagine her grunting as she ruts into you, not even giving either of you a break to catch your breath

i also think she’s a massive fan of seeing your eyes roll

or honestly just the overall being so consumed by the pleasure that your face says it all

she’ll hold your hands above your head as she pounds away, looking for the telltale sign that she’s doing a good job

and while going fast and deep is a favourite, she’ll know what your body needs

oh, and if double-sided dildos are a thing, just know she’d be using that

shadowheart

shadowheart seems like she’d be so gentle with it

she would want to give you all the time to adjust, no matter the size

her strap would go in slowly with her eyes watching your face intently to ensure she’s doing alright as she gets even deeper

she would definitely be careful about her thrusts, pulling out slowly and then keeping the same pace back in

(she’ll still go deep, though)

(bottoms out every time she enters you)

the feeling of the strap’s base against her own clit drives her insane, though

and she’ll chase that feeling

so, maybe she’ll get a little bit rougher to get off herself, but nothing too strenuous

i think she’s a bit scared of hurting you, even if she knows you could take it harder

at the same time, she doesn’t know if she could take it any harder

i feel like she’d be pretty sensitive, but that’s okay

she makes up for it with the fact that she can scope out your body well, knowing which spot makes you shiver

even when she’s nice and gentle, she’ll constantly be hitting that bullseye

karlach

karlach is another softie i fear

don’t get me wrong, finally being able to put her hands on you makes her go feral

but she also wants to be as tender as she can be

she appreciates the slow love-making sessions where she can just consume you for as long as she can before it’s time to go back out

slowly bottoming out inside of you and then immediately running her hands along your sides, up to your breasts, and then to your face

she just adds so much intimacy to the moment by wanting to feel, and kiss, all of you

she is all about skin-to-skin contact as she’s thrusting away

i also think she’s a fan of the sounds—particularly her strap exiting and entering your sopping hole

“hear that, soldier?”

she��ll say as she pulls out slowly and then slams it back into you

she’ll repeat the pattern until she’s gotten off herself

(which does not take long)

but do not worry!!

karlach is all about multiple rounds

as many as you can take :)

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dokries · 7 months ago

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my boo

pairing: boo seungkwan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: ~1.1k (with bonus)

warnings: seungkwan being embarrassing in public, going to the beach/sea, mentions of food in the bonus

author note: hi i know it’s may but. here’s a first snow seungkwan fic? i wrote this and originally posted it in early december so…basically, i don’t want to keep this in the drafts until then HAHA once again, this is a repost! if you think you’ve seen it, you probably have :D (it is still my work though of course)

masterlist

“IT’S SNOWING!” you hear seungkwan’s voice right before you get tackled by him on the couch, his limbs trapping you underneath him.

you giggle at his excited expression before looking over his shoulder, seeing the white flakes fall outside through the window. “you’re right, it is. the weather report said there was a 80% chance of snow today.”

he gets up, untangling your bodies before pouting at your cool demeanour. “you’re not excited. why are you not excited?”

you shrug before getting up, groaning from the use of your legs after the time you had spent sitting down. “i mean, it’s not like it doesn’t snow every winter.”

seungkwan gasps before putting a hand to his chest, offended. “are you telling me that your first winter with me isn’t important? we haven’t even had a date in the snow yet! or—or literally anything wintery! i can’t believe this. why do i even love you?” he finishes ranting with a huff, turning his body away from you.

you roll your eyes fondly at your tangerine boy before pulling his hand towards you, urging him to look at your face.

“it’s nothing like that kwannie, i promise,” you say before grinning widely. “and you love me because of my amazing sense of humour and just because i’m great, of course.”

he sighs and gives you a fake annoyed expression before smiling mischievously. “so this means you’ll let me take you to the beach so we can have a photoshoot right? yeah,” he says, pulling your arm to the entryway, giving you no choice but to put up with his antics. (you would anyway; it’s him after all.)

“wait…in this?” you look down at your silly moose pyjamas, and at seungkwan’s matching ones before shaking your head. you knew seungkwan didn’t care—he loved to be open about your relationship, and these pyjamas definitely helped that. besides, it’s winter! you would be wearing a jacket on top anyway.

you let seungkwan put your coat on you (not without a little peck on your forehead to let you know he wasn’t actually mad; you knew he never was when he acted like this) and your socks when you struggle before putting on his own winter gear and opening the door. he lets out a low breath before taking your hand and putting it in his pocket, both your hand—and hearts—warm together.

…

in the car, you clap every time after seungkwan finishes belting out a christmas song from a playlist you had found (how he managed to focus on driving while doing this, you had no idea) and when he parks in the small lot the beach has, you grin, fully excited for your little date.

after your hands reunite in his coat pocket, he takes you to your favourite spot whenever you both went to the beach; a place not too close to the water where you had to worry about getting wet, but also one where you could still see the serene beauty of the ocean clearly.

as you take your phone out of your pocket to take pictures of the icy sea, you hear the sounds of seungkwan’s phone clicking in your direction. when you turn to look at him with a question on your face, he shrugs before saying, “just making sure i take pictures of the best view around here.”

soon enough, your photo taking session comes to an end, and you walk back to your parked car, laughing at a silly picture you took of seungkwan. he takes a look around before running over to a small field nearby covered in fresh snow, before slipping and falling.

“seungkwan?? you okay, honey?” you ask as you run over to his side before your worried expression turns into a deadpan, seeing his pose. he was on his side with his elbow propping up his head, and before you can say anything about how silly he looks, he wiggles his eyebrows. “that was a perfect reenactment of how i fell for you, my pookie dookie snookie pookums.”

before you can shush him and remind him that you’re in public, you hear a loud gasp and a little girl’s voice say, “mommy, look! they’re flirting!” from behind you.

you turn your eyes back to the trail you were walking on with your boyfriend just a few minutes ago, and see a mother cover her young daughter’s eyes from seungkwan’s antics before hurriedly walking away from the scene you two were making.

thankfully, as soon as they leave, there’s no one to see the way you crouch down and smack seungkwan’s shoulder. “what was that for, kwannie?!”

he pouts before sticking out his tongue at you and pulling you down onto the snow beside him. “i was just showing my love for you, my sweetheart plum sugar with two eggs five cups of flour—”

you shut him up with a small peck to his cheek before shooting his lovestruck face a dirty look. “that’s enough out of you now. i’m telling your mother that you embarrass me in public,” you huff, fully knowing that seungkwan’s mother simply adored you.

you giggle when seungkwan makes a sound of indignation and instead peck his cheek again. “fine, fine, i won’t. but…you have to stop using those corny pet names.”

he huffs before sighing dramatically.

“fine. i’ll stop, my five large egg yolks, one and one third cups water…okay i’ll stop,” he finishes off, seeing your face before leaning in to peck your cheek, making you giggle and him smile. “there’s my boo.”

bonus!

in the car, you remember to ask seungkwan something. “what were you even saying? my 2 cups of sugar…was that even an actual recipe?”

he looks at you while fixing his rearview mirror. “yeah, it’s from a recipe for lemon meringue pie.” his neck flushes a bit as he continues, “i was planning to make it for you one day…so it was the first thing i thought of.”

the next day, you wake up to the smell of something burning. you quickly get up and sprint to the kitchen, only to see seungkwan putting something in the trash sheepishly. “…i burnt the pie.”

though it takes a while to get the smell out of your home, and the window needs to be open in the cold weather, you have an excuse to cuddle up with seungkwan in your warmest blanket. (he would anytime you asked anyway; no need for burnt baked goods).

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #boo seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan scenarios #boo seungkwan imagines #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan fluff #boo seungkwan fluff #dokries works

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 1 year ago

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

You have heard it before: if you feel like your life sucks and you’ll never be truly happy - take a shower. Have a snack. Drink a glass of water. Stretch gently. Take a nap.

Basically, take care of your very basic physical needs and you may find that your emotional and mental well-being improves as well.

This definitely falls under the category of advice that sounds ridiculously oversimplified, especially when you are right in the middle of a bad mood - and of course it needs to come with the caveat that this won’t cure depression. But even if your low mood is a symptom of depression (or another mental illness), taking care of your physical needs will help stabilize your mood and is a good foundation for further treatment.

But in this letter, I don’t actually want to discuss that. There are already plenty great tumblr posts doing so. I just want to remind you of another basic need after water, food, sleep, movement and hygiene: Enrichment.

Enrichment means stimulation of the brain, and you may know this term in the context of people working with animals. Dog owners, zookeepers etc. try to stimulate the animal’s brain by offering them physical or mental exercise. For example, a dog may be encouraged to search for hidden treats!

You are not a dog, but your brain also needs stimulation. Being understimulated easily leads to feeing unfulfilled and unhappy!

A really easy way to provide enrichment for yourself is to just change something small about your daily environment or schedule, or try a new activity! Some simple ideas:

You don’t necessarily need to buy new furniture or even new decorations to change your environment. You could just switch around some pieces you already own!

You could take a different route home from school/work, go to a different grocery store or even just sit in a different place in your own home than you usually do

You could try a new recipe, prepare a favorite food in a different way or buy a snack you haven’t tried before

You could try to move in new ways. That could mean trying a new workout routine but also just doing a silly little dance to your favorite song in your own room!

These things sound too exhausting? That’s fully possible - being understimulated can, ironically, drastically lower your motivation! If that’s the case, remember that tiny baby steps still help! You don’t need to start with anything too exhausting. It can be something quick like:

change the lockscreen of your phone if yours has been the same for a long time

challenge yourself to read a random article on Wikipedia

listen to a song, but pick one from outside of “your” genres

Slowly working your way up to bigger changes can make it easier.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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ellecdc · 10 months ago

Note

hear me out - a remus fic but set in come back be here, like maybe a muggle and remus is instantly smitten but has no idea how to navigate but everyone is pushing for him to actually go for it and it’s just chaos but in the best way possible… regardless come back be here was AMAZING

CBBH Remus x muggle!barista gn!reader

(Pretend they have phones for this okay? Thank you lol)

CW: just fluff, swearing, self deprecation, making a fool of oneself - you know, the remus lupin special

Remus would describe himself as many things.

He was a wizard. He was a werewolf. He was a business owner. He was an uncle. He was a friend. He was a war hero.

He was also, apparently, a coward.

He knows this to be true because he’s sat in the same spot that he’s been haunting all week – a chair in the far back corner of the café – pretending to look over ledgers in his notebook while he actually watches you work.

It’s fucking pathetic, is what it was.

He watched as you smiled politely at every customer in line – even the ones who weren’t as polite to you as Remus thought they ought to be.

He felt silly, really, watching you like a creep. He shouldn’t be here to begin with. He had stumbled upon this café completely by accident two weeks ago whilst in the city to pick up more muggle literature to add to his bookstore on Diagon Alley.

It was here he saw you, as if you were a siren calling him to this sodding caffeinated inlet to damn him to hell.

What a willing victim he was.

But he shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t get caught up with you. It was unthinkable. Most witches and wizards would have a hard time coming to terms with someone like, well, someone like him.

He was a burden. A risk.

It was selfish to think he could entertain the thought of you.

Suddenly, as if she’d known he was talking poorly of himself, his phone buzzed.

Remus tried to steal himself as he took a deep breath.

Right Lupin, you’ve done scarier things before. He thought to himself. You’ve run with wolves, you’ve gone undercover into enemy bases, you’ve deceived the dark lord right in front of his slimy fucking face, and you’ve even told Sirius once you thought his hair looked weird. By all means, you can talk to a barista.

Except...well...he really kind of couldn’t talk to a barista. He had made it all the way to the counter, even smiled politely at you as he stepped up to the cash register and...

And then words left him. Failed him. Completely abandoned him. He even thinks there may be a little stickie note in his brain that says ‘resignation effective immediately’ where words should be because he’s staring right at you with your gorgeous eyes and lovely hair and perfect features and for fuck sakes why isn’t he saying anything!?!?!

“Is there something I can get for you?” You asked so sweetly like this bloke wasn’t standing with his mouth agape at your cash register making a sure and utter fool of himself; like you had all the time in the world for the poor bastard.

“Uhm, uh...” He tried finally as if only now realizing he had functioning vocal chords.

“Uhm, fuck, I’m so sorry uhm...”

You chuckled at him. Holy shit you chuckled at him. It was the most beautiful sound Remus thinks he may have ever heard. He hoped you’d do it again, though, at the rate he’s going it was really very likely.

“I’m so sorry. I swear I’m not usually like this. Uh,” He apologized awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I think you’re lovely and would, uh, like to get to know you. You don’t have to say anything now!” He interrupted as you began to interject. “In fact, for my pride's sake, I’d prefer if you didn’t. But I’d like to leave my number here for you, in case you’d like to text me some time.”

He offered you the kindest smile he could muster as you took the now crumpled and sort-of-damp-from-his-sweaty-palms note in your hand with a smile of your own.

Now, Remus wouldn’t say he ran out of the café, per se. He would describe it as more of a jaunt, or perhaps a brisk walk. But he did nearly take out a woman with a pram as he all but flung the door open in his haste to get away.

You stupid ridiculous bastard. He scolded himself as he made his way to the closest apparition point. If Sirius could see you know, you’d never hear the end of it.

His phone buzzed and Remus nearly dropped it in his haste thinking it might be Sirius having somehow actually seen what just took place.

Then he nearly dropped it again as he saw a new text from an unknown number.

Perhaps Remus wasn’t such a coward after all.

#marauders come back be here #come back be here one shot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #moony #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #Remus Lupin ficlet #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #reader insert #self insert #ellecdc fics

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

Note

This may be a bit of a strange idea (Feel free to ignore this request)

But since your about Jaime Tartt baby fic. I had the thought of Jaime trying to give reader a break takes the baby in a stroller to training with Roy and Roy is just kind of like WTF and other hijinks ensue like maybe someone flirts with Jamie with the baby or roy gets left with the baby at somepoint or Reader is freaken out cause the baby is gone. IDK just an idea that has been stuck in my head since I read your baby fic

Dude this request was not strange AT ALL. It was actually nice because it was similar to something I wanted to write, and I haven’t been able to do that because I’ve been doing requests. THANK YOU.

i’ll still be right next to you my dear

Your daughter Bea is five months old. You’re still sleep-deprived, but less than you were a month ago. Jamie does his absolute best as her dad and your husband, but the weight of it still falls to you. Things have gotten considerably less tense, too, since you moved out of the flat and back into your house. It was weird at first, both you and Jamie walking on little eggshells around each other.

The tension was broken with an all-hands-on-deck moment at 1am, when Bea had a stomach bug or something, and you two had no choice but to just laugh in resignation at the sheer enormity of the mess she made. There go the beginnings of sleep training.

Bea had her own schedule, one that involved being an early bird like her dad. She would wake up five to ten minutes before his 3:30 alarm went off, and it got to the point where he barely even set it anymore.

Jamie would get out of bed, throw on some pants, change her, and then zip through his morning routine. He’d put her back to bed, give you a half-awake kiss, then be out the door before Roy could knock.

(Roy made that mistake early on, waking Bea. You thoroughly chewed him out in an exhausted rage. Jamie says it’s the closest thing he’s ever seen to Roy crying).

Anyway, at 3:55 this Saturday morning, Jamie kisses you, says, “I’ve got Bea, so sleep in,” and is gone before you even know what’s happening.

You flop back on the pillow and are out in seconds.

—

“The fuck is this?” Roy says the moment Jamie steps out the door, pushing a happy Bea in her jogging stroller.

“The fuck does it look like?” Jamie replies. “Her mum needed sleep, so Bea’s joining us for training.” He leans over the stroller to look at his daughter and coos, “Isn’t that right, angel?”

Bea makes a delighted gurgle and Roy grunts.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me the great Uncle Roy is daunted by a silly wee baby?” Jamie says, grinning. “You are Bea’s favorite.”

Roy glares at Jamie. “Don’t fucking lie to me, everyone knows Sam’s her fucking favorite. She even likes fucking Isaac better than me.”

Jamie pouts. “Don’t listen to him, Bea. We know you love Uncle Roy, even though he’s being a twat.”

Roy just grunts and looks at Bea. “You know how I feel about you, kid,” he says. She babbles. She knows.

“Alright, come on. Suppose the stroller gives your dad some extra weight while he runs.”

Jamie grins, and starts jogging down the street.

—

You wake up to the sound of silence. No Bea, no Jamie. Just birds chirping and the sun shining. You squint at the clock. 8:37am. You reach for your phone and see a selfie from Jamie of him, Bea, and Roy marked 7:02am with the caption, headed to breakfast!

You now have a hazy recollection of Jamie saying something about taking Bea when he left, but it felt like a dream at the time. The silence makes more sense now.

You smile and send heart emojis. I love you! you type.

love u 2, Jamie replies. Then: I hope that was for me not Roy?

You shake your head. That boy. He thinks he’s a comedian.

You roll out of bed and stretch. Time for a nice, long shower, then a good coffee from Jamie’s complementary espresso machine. You’re not gonna lie, there are certain perks to being married to a footballer.

—

Meanwhile, Jamie and Roy have stopped for breakfast at a café that Roy says fits in with Jamie’s diet. He says no coffee and Jamie makes a disgusted face and replies you’re not the boss of me, which is why they’re letting Bea decide if Jamie gets coffee or not by seeing who will get her to smile first.

Jamie wins, of course. It’s part of being a dad.

They’re sitting at a table outside till 9am, Bea out of her stroller and in Jamie’s arms. They’re on their third cups of coffee and Bea’s draining her bottle of formula like there’s no tomorrow. Jamie is in the middle of stroking Bea’s nose (a miniature version of yours) and watching her eyes blink slow, when two girls walk up to their table.

“Ohmygod, no way, is that your baby?” one girl asks.

Jamie looks up and gives a polite, perfunctory, “yeah,” and turns back to Bea. Roy’s sitting back in his seat, ready to watch this unfold.

“It is like, so totally adorable. There’s something so sweet about a baby, don’t you think?” the other girl says, putting her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. He shifts away as politely as he can.

“I just think that like, men with babies are so much hotter than men without babies,” girl 1 continues, oblivious to Jamie, who has shifted Bea onto his chest and is displaying his left hand as conspicuously as possible. He taps Bea’s back with his ring finger in what he hopes is an absentminded manner.

Roy holds back a snort.

“Especially single dads,” says girl 2. “Soo hot. I’ll give you my number if you ever need a babysitter.”

She’s barely done speaking when Jamie blurts out, “I’m married.” He looks so harried that this time Roy can’t hold back a laugh. The girls turn to him with a glare, then back to Jamie.

“She doesn’t have to know,” says one of them.

“Pretty sure she does,” Jamie replies. “And anyway, I ain’t interested. Have a good morning.”

Bea, the angel that she is chooses that exact moment to start burping.

The girls give her a disgusted look and turn away.

Roy looks at Jamie, eyebrows raised and a ghost of a smile on his face. “Nice fucking move with the ring finger,” he says. “If it were me, I’d’ve fucking given them a different fucking finger.”

“That’s where you and me differ, granddad,” Jamie replies, wiping spit up off his vest (waterproof, thank god), “I’m a gentleman.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

—

The windows are open, the laundry is spinning, and you’re dancing around the house. You love Bea, but god you also love good rest. And a clean house. And Jamie Tartt. Man, you love him. You can’t believe he took Bea out for the whole morning and knowing him and Roy, they’ll be out until at least 11am. You smile. That gives you time to head to the shops and pick up some flowers, which will make you feel like a civilized human being, one who has her life together and can take care of her child and her husband and maybe, just maybe, one who is in the mood to get laid tonight.

—

Jamie and Roy are strolling through Richmond, passing by shops and enjoying what feels like the first lovely day in ages. Jamie hasn’t heard from you since you asked is this shirt clean or dirty? with a picture near the washing machine. He knows Saturday cleaning is like a ritual to you, one you picked up in high school and carried on through college. You have a system and you take your time, windows open and music playing. He can picture you spinning around the house putting things away, and that mental image is enough to make his face split into a smile. He remembers the Saturdays you spent before Bea, you cleaning and dancing, and him, well, not helping but certainly dancing with you and promising that he’ll give you more dirty sheets to wash if you’d just take a tiny little break? In the bedroom? With no clothes on because they need to be washed, wink wink?

It usually worked.

You’d lay in bed for precisely ten minutes afterward, take a no-nonsense shower, then kick him out of the house. He’d be gone for an hour, buying you that chocolate you liked and whatever flowers he thought suited the day. There’s a good thought. He should get you flowers, a reminder of their early days of romance. And maybe, just maybe, Bea can sleep soundly enough that they can revive other traditions, too.

“Roy,” Jamie begins.

“No.”

“Oi, you didn’t even let me finish!” he says indignantly.

“Fine. What do you fucking want.”

“It ain’t for me,” Jamie says, “it’s for Bea. And my wife. I want to get her flowers, but it ain’t easy to push the stroller and look. Can you take Bea around the green? I’ll come find ya when I’m done.”

Roy stares at Jamie, and Jamie is sure he’s going to say no. But then Roy walks around to the front of the stroller and crouches down in front of Bea.

“If your dad fucking goes and gets flowers for your mum, do you promise to be alright for twenty minutes? I know I’m not fucking Sam or Isaac, but Phoebe thinks I’m a good uncle. She’s a proper fucking dweeb, but a good judge of character.”

Bea just stares at him. Roy slaps his thighs and stands up. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Jamie grins and says, “Bye, Beatrice. Be good for Uncle Roy.” He gives her a kiss on her forehead, a boop on the nose, and is gone, weaving through Richmond, man on a mission.

“Your mum’s a fucking saint for putting up with him,” Roy says to Bea. Bea says nothing. She’s fallen asleep. Roy shrugs and starts pushing her in the direction of the green. Better asleep than crying.

—

You’re showered, dressed, with just a touch of makeup, and you’re on your way to the flower shop. There’s this little one you and Jamie used to go to. You know the owner a little, but you suppose Jamie knows her better because he’s been in more. She’s about the age of his mum, and has a soft spot for him. He overpays and always leaves one flower for her. He hasn’t had the time to be over since Bea, so you say hello and show her some baby pictures, and then some of Bea and Jamie. You both laugh over your favorite, Jamie passed out on the couch, mouth open, wearing gray sweatpants and a single sock, with Bea on his stomach in a gray onesie and a single sock. She’s drooling on him and his hair’s a mess, but you think it’s adorably hilarious. Like father, like daughter.

Now, you’re perusing the flowers. It smells wonderful, the warm weather diffusing the fragrances through the shop. You turn a corner and bonk straight into a man with his back turned to you. You open your mouth to apologize and he turns, and out comes, “Jamie?”

He smiles and you peer behind him. “Where’s Bea? Oh my god Jamie, did you lose our daughter? She had better be close by, I swear to god, Jamie Tartt, how do you lose an entire baby, especially one as noisy as Bea?!”

You’re oblivious to Jamie’s attempts to interrupt your rant, so when you pause for a breath he says, “love.”

You turn to face him, from where you were trying to stand on your tiptoes hoping for a glimpse of Bea’s stroller.

“I didn’t lose her. She’s with Roy. D’you really think I’m that irresponsible?”

He looks so hurt that you realize what you’ve been saying. Your hands fly up to your mouth. Of course Jamie wouldn’t lose Bea. He loves her. He looks at her as though she makes the stars shine.

“Babe. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wasn’t expecting to see you, and then I wasn’t expecting to see you without Bea, and I thought I’d surprise you by getting flowers before you both got back, and-” you stop. Jamie is gently holding your face and smiling, no longer hurt.

“Babe,” he says, “love of me life and best mum around, it’s ok. I know whatcha mean.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Bit funny we had the same idea, innit?”

You smile. You’d been so caught up in your split-second worry about Bea, you didn’t even realize what was happening.

“Guess some things don’t change,” you reply. “You pick out any good ones?”

Jamie places his hand over his heart. “Love. I only pick out good ones. I picked you, didn’t I?” You laugh at his sparkling eyes, and put your hands on his waist, pulling him close.

“Pretty sure I picked you,” you reply.

Jamie hums. “That’s a fuckin lie, and you know it.”

Your feeble retort is cut off by his lips on yours.

—

You and Jamie walk toward the green, hand in hand. He’s holding bright yellow daffodils in the other.

Jamie spots Roy first. “Oi!” he yells, “look who I found!”

You wave, jog over to Bea, and crouch down. “Hi baby! I missed you! Did you have fun with Uncle Roy?” Bea babbles at the sound of your voice.

“Oh good,” you reply, “he is your third-favorite uncle, after all.”

Roy nods. “You fucking get it. Jamie tried to feed me this fucking bullshit that I was fucking number one.”

“Jamie!” you say. “Everyone knows it goes Sam, then Isaac, then Roy.”

Jamie puts his hands up defensively.

“Honesty,” Roy says, “Such an admirable quality. Remind me again why you’re with this fucking prick?”

You pretend to think for a moment then say, “For his money.”

Jamie says “Oi!” so you quickly amend, “And his smokin’ hot body.”

Jamie nods, satisfied. “That’s better.”

Roy is looking at Jamie in disgust. “You two are so fucking adorable, it’s fucking disgusting. C’mon Bea. I see Sam over by that bench. Let’s give these fucking idiots some time alone.”

You and Jamie turn to each other.

“He said we’re adorable,” you say, grinning.

“He said we get alone time,” Jamie says, grinning back.

“Roy!” you call, “how much time do we have?”

“Three hours!” Sam yells back. “I want to walk Bea to my restaurant!”

You and Jamie turn back to each other, giddy.

“You know what that means,” you say.

“Sex,” he replies immediately.

You laugh and grab his hand. “C’mon, babe. Let’s enjoy our alone time.”

As you walk away, Jamie says, “Oi, need to tell you about these girls who were trying to flirt with me. But don’t worry, I gave them the finger.” He holds up his ring finger and you slap his arm.

“This is why I love you.”

“Really? And here I only thought you were with me for my money,” he replies.

“And your hot body. Don’t forget that one,” you say.

“How could I forget?” he says. “When we get home, let’s put it to some good use.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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sirianasims · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 43.9

I arrive at GeekCon both sweaty and with a vague sense of unease. The stifling heatwave has turned the city into a pressure cooker, and it feels foreboding, like something terrible is building and about to break free.

I’m greeted by my own face by the door, advertising the panel that I’m supposed to be on this morning. I never got comfortable seeing myself like this, I prefer it when they just use the logo or my masked promo pictures. At least today is the last time I’ll appear as Llama Man in any official capacity, and then…

Then I don’t know.

But there’ll be time to figure that out later, right now I’m about to see Julia again. I can’t believe it’s only been a year since we met, and I have no idea how she feels about me right now.

I spent most of the night in my hotel room tossing and turning, thinking about what I’ll say to her, but I still don’t have a plan. I just want to apologise for ending things so abruptly.

It really wasn’t my best work.

She said she just wanted to be with you. And then you dumped her.

I groan inwardly as I scan the faces of everyone I see. There’s no sign of her, but the cosplay competition isn’t until later, she may not have arrived yet.

I wonder if she’ll refuse to speak to me at all. I wouldn’t blame her, but she never seemed like the type to carry a grudge. I just want to see her and make sure she’s not too upset about how things ended, something I should have done months ago.

I need to make sure she doesn’t hate me. I can’t handle if she hates me.

I guess I’ll have to play it by ear, although Lee would tell me that’s not my strongest suit.

I leave my jacket in the wardrobe and linger a bit, fiddling with my VIP bracelet. The gallery’s air-conditioning is working overtime, and it helps a little with the heat but I still feel uneasy. My eyes are drawn to the bathroom door.

If this was a movie, Julia would come out of the bathroom right now, exactly like last time. Our eyes would meet. A beat, as the camera cut from her face to mine, both of us too surprised to speak. I would recover first, tell her that we can’t keep meeting like this, and her face would crack into a smile. Then she’d leap into my arms and I would kiss her like there were no tomorrow.

Get it together, Romeo. She’s not kissing you ever again, you’re going to be lucky if she even speaks to you. Focus. You’re at work.

At least I’m not in full costume this year, I would probably have died from heatstroke. And it would have made me feel silly trying to have a serious conversation with Julia.

I decide to take a quick tour of the convention floor before the panel starts.

Even though it’s still early in the day, there’s people everywhere. Some tabletop role-players are recording their podcast on location, kids are running around, and several people are dressed up despite the heat. I wish Julia had shown me pictures of the costume she was planning so I knew what to look for.

A woman with long, red hair makes me do a double take, but I know it isn’t Julia before she even turns around, the way she moves is wrong. I know every inch of Julia’s body and this isn’t it. Everything Julia is, the way she walks and talks and laughs is imprinted on my brain, and it feels like I should be able to locate her by telepathy, by following some sort of invisible string tying me to her.

“Uh, Mr. Romeo! Sorry, hello.”

“Oh, hey. Edmund, right?”

The young man beams, clearly pleased that I remember his name. His booth was next to mine last year, we talked about old movies. I wish I could introduce Julia to him, she would have loved to discuss Cow Plant Love with an expert.

“Wait, you do know him? I thought you were lying!” The teenage girl next to him sounds somewhere between impressed and angry.

“Yeah, why would I lie about that? Sorry, sir, this is my sister Liz, she’s a big fan of Llama Man.”

“Can I have your autograph? I collect them, I already got the Coolala guy and the Freezer Bunny lady this morning. Oh, and can you make it out to ‘Lizette’, with a Z, please?”

“Of course. That’s a very cool costume, Lizette with a Z.”

“I made it myself! It’s Michelle from Doherty’s Revenge, have you seen it? The one with the zombie gym teacher?”

“Oh? Haven’t heard of it, do you think I should watch it?”

“You have to, it’s so good! I used to think it was actually really scary but now I just think it’s funny. Me and Edmund watch a lot of like, retro movies with dad, we even watched the really old Llama Man movies once. I’m gonna tell my dad I met you, he won’t believe it!”

“I’m flattered. Thanks for the movie recommendation, I’ll make sure to check it out.” I hand her the autograph before waving goodbye to Edmund who mouths a silent thank you.

Retro.

I know everything seems ancient to a teenager, but the word tastes like dusty VHS tapes, like lava lamps and shag carpets, like mid-century kitchens. This is my demographic, I suppose, nostalgic dads and their excitable kids.

Julia is not in the panel crowd either, but I guess that would have been too much to hope for. I would probably have found her presence too distracting anyway.

I know one of the other panellists, Mei Zhang, the iconic voice of the Freezer Bunny for over fifteen years. We’ve met briefly at conventions and even on a few gigs, but never really got a chance to speak much.

The third panellist is a young man named Andy Okeke, who seems to be voicing a few Voidcritters as well as a bear-like creature I’ve never heard of. It’s his first time on a panel, but he’s already annoyingly good for his age, and I can imagine him having a pretty impressive career at the speed he’s going.

I answer the same questions I’ve answered a million times before and try to find some sort of comfort in the fact that it’s the last time. As much as I loved my job, it got repetitive after almost a decade. Maybe I should get that number for Sierra’s agent, try to get back on screen. Maybe I’ve grown too complacent, stagnant.

Finally, the questions dry up and the last people leave the room, and just like that, I’m free from my contract. It doesn’t feel like freedom, though, more like a free fall.

“Hey, Romeo, wait up.” Mei stops me by the doors.

“How are you doing? It must be so weird.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I’ll do if they ever retire Bunny.”

“You’ll still have others, won’t you?”

“I know, but I’m known for Freezer Bunny, not for… four or five Voidcritters. I can’t even keep track of their names, which is ironic since it’s all they ever say.”

I’m not sure how to respond so I just nod. I’m impatient to get to the cosplay competition, but I don’t want to be rude.

“Mei, it was great seeing you again, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, actually.”

“Sure. Would you – would you want to grab coffee some time, though?”

Shit. Before Julia, I would have gladly followed Mei home tonight, maybe we’d even go on a couple of real dates before things fizzled out as they normally do. But right now, every muscle in my body is telling me that I have to go, to move, to be somewhere else.

“Sorry, I’m, uh. Maybe another time, I don’t…”

The giant poster of my face is judging my lame attempt at stringing together a sentence, and I’m painfully aware that the woman behind us has been sweeping the same spot for a minute now, pretending not to eavesdrop.

“I’m a big girl, Romeo. If you’re not interested, that’s fine.”

“Right. I am sorry, though, it’s not…” I mumble something politely incoherent and more or less flee the room.

Fuck. One year and I’ve completely lost my touch.

I hurry up the stairs, the competition must be just about to end. I can see through the doors before I even reach them, all of the contestants are on stage – and she’s not there.

I stand in front of the doors, frozen, arm still outstretched. This doesn’t make sense, she loves this, she told me about the costume she was planning, she should be here.

There’s no time to dwell on why I so desperately need to see her again, what I would even say to her, the only thing left is fear.

What if something has happened to her? Would I ever know? We’re not together anymore and we have no friends in common, no one who would think of me or assume I’d want to know if she got hurt or sick.

She could be dead. She could be dead and I would never know.

I’m vaguely aware that I’m spiralling but I can’t stop, I feel dizzy. The heat and the lights and the people, everything is too much and I can barely see.

Somehow my feet carry me outside, to the very same bench where we talked for hours on that first night. I try to breathe, deep breaths, but the air is too warm and feels thick.

My hands shake as I log into the anonymous account I made during a moment of weakness after she blocked me, and I pull up her social media in the hopes that she posted something recently, anything that can reassure me that she’s fine.

Relief floods through me when I see the timestamp on her latest updates. San Sequoia Aquarium, just a couple of hours ago. But the relief dissipates quickly as I scroll through the photos.

Nestled between fish and family pictures, there are two selfies with her friend Marten.

I stare at them, suddenly feeling numb.

Her eyes are shining like stars in the lights from the tanks. She’s smiling, and so is he. His arm is around her, possessively, and there’s a hint of triumph in his eyes that I don’t like.

He seems to be carrying her on his back in the other photo, and the thought of her legs wrapped around him awakens an urge to tear him away from her that is almost suffocating.

If they’re not already dating, it’s a matter of time. They would probably have gotten together a long time ago if I hadn’t been there. A petty part of me wonders if he was really being her friend or just biding his time, waiting for me to fumble, but that’s crazy. I barely know the guy. Actually, I don’t really know any of Julia’s friends, I just have a vague idea about their names and who they were to her.

I wasn’t a very good boyfriend, was I?

I told you it was better this way.

I’ve kept reminding myself that I didn’t make a mistake, and here’s proof at last. This was meant to be, they were meant to get together, I just happened to get in the way. He’s been a good friend to her, nice and considerate, while I only brought her chaos and pain.

I was so worried that Julia was wasting my time, but all along, I was the one wasting hers. She deserves better, I know this, but it still feels like I lost her all over again.

I put away the phone and take a deep breath of the scorching air. And then I reach for the tiny, secret corner of my heart where I was nursing my last hope of getting her back and stomp it out.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #paul romeo #cw anxiety

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thetarttfuldickhead · 2 months ago

Text

Roy had, he realizes, half-expected this to happen. He must have suspected on some level that their trip up to Manchester to face off against City would see a repeat of last season’s illicit night-time outing, because when he catches sight of Jamie surreptitiously slinking away from the team movie night just as the film ends, he isn’t surprised.

Just rolls his eyes and huffs a fucking prick, before telling Nate that he’s going out and not to let any of those idiots cause any trouble.

He can feel Beard’s eyes following him as he follows Jamie, out of the impromptu movie hall and the hotel, and into the chilly evening.

Roy lets Jamie amble on for a couple of streets. Let the little muppet think he got away with it; it’ll make his realisation to the contrary all the more satisfying. Then, as Jamie idles on the pavement while waiting for a lull in traffic, Roy sneaks up to him and grabs his shoulder.

”Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Jamie startles, which is pleasing. He doesn’t look particularly concerned at catching sight of his fearsomely scowling coach, however, which is less pleasing.

“Fucking hell, Roy,” he says, having the gall to sound mildly reproachful. “How’s giving your best player a heart attack the night before you take on the champions a good idea, eh?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Roy drawls. “Is it a worse idea than letting one of my players sneak off and break curfew the night before we take on the champions?”

Jamie snorts, unimpressed at his coach’s careful omission of the best. Shrugging out of Roy’s grip, he starts walking again. “Weren’t going to get into any trouble or nothing,” he says airily. “Just wanted to see me mum.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Not exactly a leap. (And if there’s a part of Roy that had been concerned that Jamie might slink away to see someone else, well… No need to bring that up. There’s been enough heated discussions on that topic between them ever since Roy learned of Jamie actually going up to see his fucking piece of shit father in rehab.)

For a few moments, they walk in silence, through the chill October air and the increasingly distant rush of Manchester traffic.

“Are you… okay?” Roy asks eventually. It comes out hesitant and it takes all of his willpower not to smash his own stupid face in for how silly he sounds. He’s getting better at this, he thinks – the emotional shit – but he’s still not good at it.

Jamie cuts him a surprised look. “Uh, yeah? Awesome. Why?” Then his face softens into understanding, his soft lips curling into a silent oh. “I’m good, Coach,” he says earnestly, pushing a strand of his carefully styled hair out of his eyes. “Swear down. Just wanted to say hi to mummy, yeah?”

Roy nods. He’d thought as much, but… he’d needed to make sure. “You could have just asked.”

Jamie gives him a sidelong glance. “Yeah, well, but. You’re not Ted. Might have said no.”

Roy’s eyes snap to Jamie’s face, narrowing in incredulity. “And if I had I told you, specifically, that no, Jamie, you may not fucking run off to see your mum the night before a game, then you wouldn’t have tried to slip away?”

“Yeah, man, ‘course.” Off Roy’s sceptical look, Jamie makes a face. “Come on, Coach. I do everything you tell me to, don’t I? Even when it’s stupid,” he adds, not quite under his breath.

And Roy doesn’t know what to say to that because… Jamie is right, isn’t he. He does everything Roy tells him to, and while that’s… good, obviously, hearing it stated so baldly leaves Roy feeling. Well. Something. Not bad, exactly, but slightly like he’s on a roller-coaster and suddenly he’s weightless and breathless and with that sucking sensation in his gut. Or like when he held Phoebe for the first time, awed and terrified of all that frail softness in his rough hands.

He clears his throat, pushing that weird feeling right back down into the dark recesses of his mind where it belongs. “Sneaking out of the fucking hotel when I told everyone to stay in and hit bed before eleven is a weird fucking way of doing what I tell you.”

“Yeah, but that was like, general,” Jamie says, waving away Roy’s fully legitimate argument like an errant fly. “It’s different, yeah?”

“It really fucking isn’t,” Roy snaps, even as there’s small, strange part of him that feels that Jamie – inexplicably – has a point.

Jamie grins at him, then, “And yet you haven’t hauled me back yet,” he notes, exaggeratedly looking around them to indicated the more and more run-down surroundings, and sure enough, if memory serves Roy right they’re already halfway back to the council estate where Jamie grew up.

Fucking hell.

But he’d suspected this, too, hadn’t he. Known that he wasn’t really going after Jamie just to read him the riot act and bring him back in.

“Half an hour,” Roy growls. “Then I am hauling you back to the hotel, and if I hear one complaint about it, I’m making you run the whole fucking way and then we’re doing burpees until you drop and I don’t care if you’re too stiff to play tomorrow.”

Like hell you don’t, Jamie’s laughing eyes tell him, but all he says is, “Yes, Coach. Mint.”

Roy gives a curt nod. Mint. Yeah. Maybe that’s what this is.

At least it could be hell of a lot worse.

At least until Jamie asks, much, much too innocently, “So, Coach, are you coming with me ‘cause you wanna keep an eye on me or because you wanna see me mum too?”

Roy is grateful that there’s no telling if his cheeks redden in the autumn dark, and that his voice is as gruff as ever when he growls, “All right, you are definitively running back to the hotel, Tartt.”

Jamie sighs. It’s a happy sound. “Yes, Coach.”

#i've had a bad cold and am FINALLY feeling better #so have some random roy & jamie weirdness #jamie tartt #roy kent #roy & jamie #ficlet #my stuff

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reverie-starlight · 1 year ago

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{PILLOWS- kuroo t.}

BIRTHDAY BOY!!!! LOVE OF MY LIFE!!!!

here’s some silly kuroo fluff for you. originally I had another idea for his bday fic, but I decided on this instead. it's not bday specific, though, sorry :(

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. all fluff, this is sickeningly sweet actually. lowercase intentional. cuteness aggression but not really, reader has trouble asking for things. I make use of one (1) recognizable joke and you're not allowed to say anything about it. it's good dialogue and he's a dork, you can't tell me he wouldn't do this.

“I want to throw a pillow at you.”

kuroo turned around from where he was sitting at his desk and slow blinked at you. “I’m sorry, you what?”

you giggled at the silly, incredulous expression on his face from your own spot on the couch in his apartment and tried to quell the ever-growing feeling of affection for him in your stomach.

“you heard me.”

he gave a dramatic sigh and threw his head back before standing up and walking over to you. he made a big show of taking the decorative pillows from the couch (ones that you had insisted he should get a month ago when you were walking past the home section in that one department store despite not even living together) and dropping them on the ground.

“may I ask why you’d like to attack your precious, doting, loving boyfriend?” he questioned as he crawled on top of you and nuzzled his face into your chest.

your hands immediately got to work running through his messy black hair. “because I love you.”

you said it so simply that for a moment he almost accepted it without question. almost. “…explain?”

it was silent in his tokyo apartment for a few moments and he tilted his head up to look at you. what surprised him wasn’t the lack of response, but rather the look on your face. it was almost as though you were struggling to find the right words.

that was fine. he could see you needed a little push, so he handed you a pillow and smiled when you gently bonked him on the forehead with it. nothing harder than that with how close in proximity you two were to each other. you dropped the pillow back down after that.

he gave you the time you needed and rested his head back on your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

finally there was an inhale and your sweet voice reached his ears once more. “sometimes I just get... overwhelmed with affection for you. it bubbles up and I don’t know any other way to get it out besides annoying you and getting playful.”

he holds himself up on his forearms and looks down at you- wholly amused, if his stupid smirk was anything to go by. “so, cuteness aggression, but like, affectionate aggression instead? does that technically count as the same thing?”

you nod and wrap your arms around his neck. “yeah. throwing a pillow at you feels like I’m knocking all my love and support into you.”

he snorts and presses kisses to your cheek. “that's adorable. you can just ask me for affection if you want it, baby.”

you pout, and he knows exactly what’s about to come out of your mouth. “you know I’m not good at asking.”

and he did know. throughout your relationship, he had realized that you’re not good at asking for the things you want- no, need. affection always seemed to be on his terms. you would only ever offer it if he had already made a move, and you always returned it equally. that was fine with him, of course, and you had gotten better about it in the past year you'd been together, but you still struggled a bit.

he knew you were trying, though (even this conversation was a step forward for you), and that was all that mattered to him. until you got fully comfortable with it, he was more than capable of reading your mood and knowing your tells.

he pressed a couple more kisses to your face, which showed clear signs that you were enjoying the contact, and smiled. “I know, baby.”

it was quiet for a few more moments before you felt him smile into your skin. his shoulders shook and his voice sounded strained. "hey, maybe 'I want to throw a pillow at you' will be our 'always'."

he peeked out from your neck sporting a grin to see the glorious sight of you staring up at the ceiling and struggling to not laugh. "I take it back, I actually want to throw things at you because I hate you."

he cackled and you let loose a few small laughs of your own, reaching a hand down to arm yourself with the pillow from earlier. before he could realize what you were doing, you smacked the pillow against his back a few times and his head shot up. he was back to hovering above you in an instant with a dark, mischievous look in his eye.

"you are really not in a position to be doing that sweetheart," he shifted his weight to one arm so that one of his hands could freely move down to dig into your side. "especially after what you just told me."

you squirmed and struggled, whining out apologies you both knew were meaningless, before you somehow managed to grab hold of his wrist and throw him off balance. you made your escape (not before attacking him with another round of soft smacks from the pillow to hopefully keep him down) and he gave you five seconds before he was darting after you.

it didn't take long for him to catch up at all.

"what's the matter, baby?" he taunted, scooping you up and carrying you to the bed, chuckling along with you as he tried and failed to keep up his menacing act. he threw you on the bed and dug his fingers back into your sides. you shrieked and tried to grab at anything you could reach to defend yourself.

"you said you were feeling affectionate, right? I'm just trying to return that tenfold. that's what you wanted wasn't it?" he laughed and dodged your attempts to fend him off. "that's why you kept hitting me with those pillows? because you're just soooo full of love for me?"

eventually he ended his attack and admired the giggly mess you had become. he shook his head fondly and laid down next to you. "you're adorable. even if you need to throw things at me to let me know you want some attention."

you rolled onto you side so that you were nose to nose and smiled brightly at him. "I love you."

his eyes softened and he ran his knuckles over your soft cheek. "I love you too. and..." then they grew mischievous again and you felt a pillow hit your back this time.

"...I kind of want to throw a pillow at you, too, baby."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

if the ending feels rushed, it's cause I had two midterms this week and I'm drainedddd. but I just had to get something out for the loml. this makes up for me choosing to do an osamu bday fic over an atsumu one this year, right? I still feel guilty for that :') hope you enjoyed <33

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x reader fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x gender neutral reader #kuroo fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #kuroo x gn!reader

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unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin · 5 months ago

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Macaroni Art

Summary: Your daughter desperately wants someone to come to her Father’s Day party at Daycare and Kenny steps up.

Warnings: single mom!reader, your daughter is about 4 years old, daughters birth father isn’t discussed much, it’s just accepted that he’s not around, lots of fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst

An: I don’t know why but the idea of wrestlers being sweet to their kids has been on my mind. I haven’t written for wrestling for a while and haven’t had the time to really watch it so please be kind of it’s not the best

Taglist: @peachmango-kombucha @kcloveswrestling @writtingrose @xkennyxomegax @melissahausen @fiskers7136 @bellalutionn @tummyyellin @legit9thlunaticwarrior @auburnwrites @thesusbunny

“Be careful!” You scolded your young daughter as she ran into the house the moment you had the door open. Your arms were occupied with your work bag and her backpack, making closing the door slightly difficult. Once you were inside you kicked your shoes off and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. The smell of food filled your nose, and you smiled slightly at what would be waiting for you when you went into the kitchen.

You set your own bag, keeping your daughter’s backpack over your shoulder as you walked further into your home. You could hear voices as you turned into the kitchen, seeing your daughter in Kenny’s arms as she told him about her day. Kenny nodded along as he stirred something on the stove.

“That sounds like so much fun” Kenny told her before he glanced up to see you. “Why don’t you go wash your hands for dinner?” He set the little girl down and she happily ran off, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

“I think I like this,” you set your daughter’s bag down before walking cover to Kenny, your arms wrapping around his neck while one of his wrapped around your waist.

“You like what?”

“You being here to cook for us when we get home.” You said with a smile. Kenny’s own smile matched yours as he placed a quick kiss on your lips.

“I’ll do it as long as I can.”

You and Kenny had known each other for years, you had been a promoter for different wrestling promotions over the years and you had worked with him plenty of times. If you asked any of your friends they would say they thought you were both dating back then, but you weren’t. Instead you ended up pregnant with your daughter and you left your traveling job for a more stable one.

“All clean!” Your daughter yelled as she came running back into the kitchen. You turned to her, holding your hands on your hips as you looked at her.

“What have we said about running, little missy?” You asked, watching as she blushed.

“Only walking.”

“Exactly. Kenny’s cooking in here and there’s hit stuff, you’ve got to be careful.” You picked her up as you walked over to the table. Kenny started to make plates behind you while you sat her at the table.

“What did you do at daycare today?” You asked as you started to pull things out of the bag. You let the little girl explain the different art projects as Kenny brought the plates of food over.

“…and you’ll come to school tomorrow!” She cheered, causing you to pause for a second.

“You mean mama will drop you off at school?”

“Silly mama,” she shook her head, confusing you further. “Come to lunch.” She pointed to the stack of papers that were meant for parents, little notes and reminders. You grabbed the one for today and your heart sank as you read it.

Good Evening Parents,

We’d like to remind parents that tomorrow will be our Father’s Day celebration at the daycare. Any guardian is welcome to come in for a picnic lunch and games, and at the end of the day students will give out the presents they’ve made in class. We understand not all families may have a father so any guardian is welcome and gifts were to be given to whoever the child wished to make it for. We hope to see you all there!

“Y/n?” Kenny tapped your shoulder as you finished reading the paper. You glanced at him before looking over at your daughter who had begun eating the spaghetti Kenny had made. She had a happy grin on her face as she ate, causing your chest to tighten.

“Excuse me…” you whispered as you pulled away from Kenny and went to the living room. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, and once you were alone you let them fall. How could you have forgotten? You had meant to take the day off to either go to class with her or keep her home that day, but it somehow slipped your mind. Between everyday stuff and helping Kenny after his surgeries a day off was the last thing on your mind.

As you cried a pair of strong arms enveloped you in a hug. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” Kenny gently asked, but you were too upset to verbally answer so you just shoved the paper into his hand. Kenny kept one arm around you as he read over the note.

“I was super to take the day off,” you sobbed into his chest. “I forgot and now she’s gonna be the only kid without someone there and it’s gonna break her heart. I’m such a shitty mom, how did I let this happen-

“Hey,” Kenny pulled you away from him so he could see your face. “First off, you are not a shitty mom. You raised y/d/n for three years on your own, and you did an amazing job with that little girl. Secondly, you need to take a breath, calm down a bit.” You nodded as you tried to take a few deep breaths and pull yourself together.

“She could always stay home with me tomorrow.”

“She already knows they’re doing fun stuff, she won’t want to miss. Besides, don’t you have meeting tomorrow with the bucks and Khan?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind her in the background, but there is another option.” You waited for him to continue, but he seems almost nervous to. “I don’t want to over step, I know we’ve only been together a year and y/d/n had only known me a few months, but if she really wants someone there I’d be happy to go.”

Kenny’s words shocked you a bit, not expecting him to offer something like that. Sure, Kenny had been great with your daughter in the months he’d known her, but you weren’t sure how he felt about taking a parental role yet. You and y/d/n were a package deal, but you didn’t want to push a role onto him he didn’t want. She was your daughter, not his. As long as he was kind to her that’s all that mattered in your eyes.

“Are- Are you sure?” You asked him. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to go to this. Plus, you have work stuff tomorrow.

“Out of everyone that would understand missing work for something with your kids, Matt and Nick will understand completely. And Tony is pretty understanding in general.” Kenny tried to tell you but you were still unsure. “Y/n, I love you. I want to be in your life for as long as you’ll let me, and I know that means being in her life too. I don’t want to replace her dad if that’s not what you want, but I do care about her. I will be there for her tomorrow if you’ll let me be.”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes as you thought about what he was offering. Kenny was making the step from ‘moms friend’ to being something more for y/d/n. “You’d really do that for her?”

“Absolutely.”

You couldn’t help the smile as you hugged Kenny close to your body. “Thank you,” you whispered into his neck, some of his curly hair getting stuck to your wet cheeks. “Thank you so much.”

————————

“Mama!” Was the first thing you heard as you opened the door after getting home from work. You hadn’t needed to pick your daughter up today due to Kenny going with her.

“Hi baby!” You kneeled down to greet her, pulling the little girl into a hug as she ran at you. “Mama missed you so much today!”

“Kenny came to school!” She excitedly said, making you smile.

“That’s what I heard, what did you do?” You stood up and walked further into the house with your daughter on your hip as she babbled about her day. You could smell pizza coming from the kitchen, and you figured Kenny must have ordered out today as you found the man on the couch.

“Hey y/d/n, why don’t you go get the thing for mama?” Kenny suggested, having your daughter quickly wiggle out of your arms. You let her down and walked over to the couch, sitting down and cuddling into his side.

“How was school?”

“Amazing. You should have seen it, she was so excited to have me there. She proudly told everyone that my name is Kenny and I’m her mamas boyfriend.”

“Did you get any pictures?”

“Lots, I’ll show you later-“

“Mama!” Y/d/n came running into the room with a gift bag. “Happy Father’s Day!” She excitedly said as she shoved the bag into your lap.

“Is this for me?” You asked and she nodded.

“Open,” she pointed at the bag and you followed her directions. You pulled out a small keychain with her fingerprints on it, and then a paper with macaroni art.

“Ooo, what’s this, baby?”you asked as you showed her the picture.

“It’s us!” She happily said. “This is you, and me,” she pointed to two blobs. “And this is Kenny. Our family,” she explained.

You felt like your heart was going to explode as you pulled y/d/n up onto your lap. “Babygirl, I love it so so much!” You kissed her cheek happily. “I think we should put the picture up in the living room so everyone can see our family, what do you think Ken?” You tired to look at the man who looked happier then you’d ever seen him.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

#aew #fanfiction #kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #single mom!reader #father day fic #aew x reader

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